#but i just really wanted put something out tonight

[techwrecker]

Handful of Roses

Summary: It’s you and Logan’s anniversary and he can’t even be bothered to show up. You’re left alone, wondering where he could possibly be.

Genre: Angst ⇒ Fluff

Tags: SFW, minor swearing, angst & fluff (duh), fem!reader, no use of y/n, reader calls logan bub sarcastically, logan is still a mutant, sickeningly sweet ending,

Word Count: 1.6k

Request: "Logan forgets a special event? Angst to fluff. Maybe a birthday, anniversary or special date night."

A/N: Tysm for the request! I really hope you enjoy it!

Other: dividers by @moosgraphics & @saradika (tysm!)

The congealed pasta slid into the trash bin with a solid thud. Hours of your hard work gone to waste.

Tonight you and Logan were supposed to be celebrating your one year anniversary. When you suggested the idea to Logan, he wasn’t too keen on going out to a fancy restaurant, so you compromised by promising to fix him something at home. You had made him swear he would be home by 7 to eat. You wanted him for the evening— all to yourself.

And yet.

You checked the time on the stove— 8:45 p.m. You had half a mind to lock Logan out. If he was going to break his promises, you were going to make him pay the price for it. Your heels clattered against the floor as you made your way to the front door. Just as you were about to turn the deadbolt, a tiny piece of your heart shot a plea of forgiveness through you. You hesitated, weighing the pros and cons.

On one hand, Logan deserved exactly what he had coming. You wanted to drive home your frustration. If he wanted to act like an animal, then he could sleep in the dog house.

But then again, staying in the house alone made you nervous. The house you shared was out in the middle of the woods and your mind tended to run wild with dangerous scenarios at the slightest sound. Usually, Logan was home before dark to protect you from your overactive imagination.

You decided to be nice to him. Especially since the rain was really coming down outside and storms made you nervous. And despite how angry you were with Logan, you didn’t want him to come down with anything.

You withdrew your hand from the door. The figure-hugging dress you had put on just for him was starting to scratch at your skin. This was the last straw. You let the plates clatter into the sink, not caring if they shattered or not and stormed off to the bedroom to find your fuzziest pajamas.

You gathered the pajamas and a towel and headed to the shower, turning the temperature gauge as hot as you could stand. You hoped the boiling temperature would take your mind off the disappointment Logan left you alone with.

Unfortunately, as soon as the water had saturated your hair, and turned your skin a flaming red, you burst into tears. You sat down in the bottom of the tub, wrapping your arms around your folded body to console yourself. Salty tears mixed with the water for some time. You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed since you had gotten in, but your fingers had already pruned by the time you calmed down enough to stand up again.

You knew Logan cared about you, so why did he have to forget stuff like this? It was important to you— you wanted it to be important to him, too. Your life was sucky before he came into it. Was it really too much to ask for him to acknowledge the wins with you? For a man who had walked the earth for over 200 years, a one year anniversary is probably just a drop in the bucket. But to you, it meant the world.

You turned off the water and toweled off. The vibrations of the front door slamming closed shook the walls.

“Hello?” You heard Logan’s voice call out. “Y’home, darlin’?”

You nonchalantly dried your sopping hair a few seconds longer before pulling on your pajamas. You wanted to make him sweat a little. Logan’s footsteps were thudding about the house, looking for you. You waited in the bathroom, arms crossed.

After a few more minutes, a gentle knock sounded against the door.

“You in there?” His voice was soft and tender. It was the voice he used whenever he pleaded cutely for hugs and kisses. Your expression softened out of habit. Not fair.

Your mind brought you back to reality. His manipulative tactic only fueled your anger. You ripped the door open. “Yes, Logan. I-“

Logan’s appearance cut your spiel short. He was filthy. Sloppy mud was splattered from his boots to the chest of his t-shirt, his jacket was soaked through, and his face was covered in dark grease— a giant, walking contrast to your soft, pink appearance. He extended his arm to you, a wilted and nearly bare bouquet of roses in his fist. His forlorn expression reflected the misfortune of his appearance. You almost felt sorry for him.

“Before you say anything,” he rushed out. “I want to tell you that I can’t apologize enough, darlin’. These are f’r you.”

“What the hell happened?” The hot tears threatened to well up again. “You were supposed to be here hours ago,” you said, shakily.

“I know, I know. The goddamn pickup quit on me after work tonight. Nobody in town had the part I needed.” He paused, expecting you to cut in. You kept silent and let him continue his excuse. “I had to walk home in the friggin’ storm.” He raised his arms in exasperation.

It explained why he was late, but not why he was absolutely covered in mud. At most, his boots would have been caked.

You jutted your chin out, gesturing to his mud-covered body. “And that? You’re gonna be late and track mud through my clean house?”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” He looked down at the floor, avoiding your eyes.

You crossed your arms and set your expression in a slight frown. It was difficult to be intimidating in pink, fuzzy pajamas and slippers, but you did your best anyways. “Try me.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, clearly embarrassed. “I slipped.”

“What do you mean, ‘you slipped’?”

“On the walk home. Tripped on a tree root and fell face first. I tried savin’ the flowers but…” He let the twiggy bouquet speak for itself.

You thought for a moment. It was difficult to imagine your stoic Logan tripping on anything, much less falling into mud and trying to save delicate roses in the process. A tiny smile crept onto your lips. You took the few flowers that were left out of his hands and took a whiff. Logan visibly relaxed his shoulders as you accepted his gift.

“I figured once my truck is up’n’runnin’, we could go out to celebrate instead.”

You lit up, eyes jumping from the roses to meet his gaze. “Oh, Logan! You mean it?”

“‘Course, darlin’. How else ‘m I supposed to make it up to my favorite girl?”

How were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looked at you like that? His deep hazel eyes contained nothing but devotion for you with a smile sweet as honey.

“I guess I’ll make an exception— just this once,” You gave in to his appeal.

He made a move to envelop you in a hug, but he was met with your index finger pressed to his chest before he could wrap his dripping, disgusting arms around you.

“Nuh-uh. I don’t think so, bub. You gotta get cleaned up before you come any closer.”

He looked down at the clothes sticking to his body. “Oh— right.”

You sidestepped around him, giving him a wide berth trying to avoid touching the mess of a man. He left the door open as he peeled the clothes from his body. He had no shame about his body and you didn’t mind one bit. Making your way to the kitchen, you found a delicate glass vase under the sink. It fit the handful of roses nicely. Despite the rough journey, the roses that did make it out were somehow still perfectly picturesque.

The roses reminded you of your relationship with Logan. It’s not exactly like he was the easiest person to live with. In fact, you had bought more sheets in the past year than you ever had in your entire life. His nightmares could get awfully terrible. You would hop out of bed and run to the other side of the room— not because you were scared of him. But because you knew he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, even unconsciously. It was one of the little ways you were able to try and protect him— by protecting yourself.

But when you were with him, it was hard to imagine being anywhere else. Logan adored you. Every fiber in his being did everything it possibly could to please you. You knew he would always love you.

The shower shut off, hazy steam rolling from the bathroom into the hall. You pulled out a bag of popcorn to make while Logan got dressed. As the kernels began to pop, you heard his heavy footsteps carry him to the bedroom. The opening and shutting of drawers told you he was about finished up.

You were monitoring the popcorn when now-clean Logan wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Hiya, darlin’.” His voice was low and relaxed. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and nuzzled into your neck. His soapy scent somehow made him more attractive.

“Hi baby,” you said, bringing your hand up to caress the side of his head. His hair was still damp, but you didn’t mind. “I’m glad you’re home. I missed you today.”

“I miss you every day,” he said into the crook, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He lifted his face to meet your gaze.

You tilted your head to give him a gentle kiss, lips tenderly pressing together. His scratchy facial hair grazed your face. The sensation kept you grounded— reminded you that he was real and he loved you.

He cupped your face, turning you toward him slightly. He searched your eyes and found only love in them.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” He pulled you tight against his chest, letting his strong arms swathe you in his adoration. “I love you.”

You melted into him. What would you ever do without your Logan?

“I love you too, Logan.”

Taglist: @arthurcerverogf @gdsvhtwa vwa @rosiahills22 @lonewolflupe

Join the taglist! || AO3 || Thanks for reading!

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for Elise

Request: Male Boss Minotaur x Fem Skinny Friend x Fem Chubby Reader: So basically the Reader and her Friend both like their Boss but the Reader doesn’t think that their Boss likes them. But what the Reader doesn’t know is that both the Boss and her Friend want her (and their Boss wants both of them). Sorry this is kinda short but this is the idea I hope this is okay. 😁

Are you stupid?

Minotaur x fem!human x chubby fem!reader || body worship, oral sex, sharing is caring, MFF threesome, spanking (lowkey), soft sex || tw: internalized fatphobia

“I want to have dinner with you,” your boss said as he approached the table where you and your bestie were eating lunch. You looked directly at her, obviously he liked her, why wouldn’t he? She was skinny and pretty and everything any human or monster would like (even you). Of course he would ask her out. You tried not to be hurt about it, you both liked him, and he made his choice (the obvious choice, you thought).

“Okay, when?” Your friend instantly asked, hiding her excitement and surprise as if it meant nothing that the hottest and most amazing minotaur just asked her out. But you knew her better, you knew the tilt on her eyebrow meant she was surprised. You knew her better than you knew yourself.

“Tonight. Wear something casual,” he told her. “And you…” He looked straight at you when he said it: “Wear something tight.” You gaped at him, confused. What the fuck did he mean?

“What? Me?” You asked. And then it clicked, he wanted you there so it wouldn’t be weird when he finally asked her out and they made out, you were the buffer. It made sense, but why would he ask you to wear something tight?

“Yes,” he answered curtly and left, leaving you looking at his back with a gaping mouth. What the fuck just happened?

“Yas girl, we just got ourselves a hot date!” Your friend rose her hand to high five you, and you did without thinking, not fully processing what just happened.

You laughed at her, dark thoughts crossing your mind. “You got yourself a date, I’m just the buffer,” you clarified.

Your best friend looked at you like you were stupid. “What the fuck are you saying? He has the hots for you,” she sounded so sure that you almost believed her. Almost.

“No he doesn’t. He likes you, and I get it, you are… perfect.” Your soft tone let out a lot of truths that you weren’t ready to release out in the wild yet.

Again with the incredulous eyes as she almost spit out: “What? Are you insane? You are funny and all soft and pretty and have the greatest tits in the universe.” You looked at her confused, what the fuck was she talking about?

“I- What?” You asked, completely thrown back by her words. Did she really think that about you?

“We got ourselves a date, both of us. Stop arguing,” she added as she got up and left you there, even more confused than before.

You couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the day, anticipation and dread building inside of you at the same time.

You were back at home (you shared a house to save some money on rent) when she entered your room. “Put this on,” she ordered, giving you a piece of fabric that probably wouldn’t cover your ass cheeks.

You looked at her with skepticism, but you put it on just to shut her up. It fitted you like a second skin, your tummy and ass squeezed with the fabric. Your boobs looked fantastic, though, but it wasn’t you. You looked at the mirror and almost didn’t recognize yourself in that kind of outfit. You couldn’t bend down without exposing your whole pussy and ass, it was that short. And you… kind of liked it.

“I can’t go out like this!” You told her exiting the bathroom, trying to pull down the hem but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover you anymore.

She gaped at you, her eyes big as plates. “You look… You look phenomenal,” she let out after a pause, licking her lips as she checked you out slowly. “Come here,” she asked, and you complied, still self-conscious about all the rolls the dress showed. “You look perfect, he’s going to lose his mind the same way I just did.” She grabbed you by the waist and plastered her body to yours, her face millimeters away from yours.

You looked at her with a tiny smile, thinking she was just playing. “What are you doing?” Your tone was amused.

“I’m kissing you senseless so you stop thinking you aren’t the hottest girl in the whole world,” she said before she closed the distance and attacked your mouth with desperation.

You were shocked for a total of two seconds before you were responding the kiss with equal fervor and need. She parted and squeezed your ass, the tip of her fingers caressing the lower part of your ass cheek, the dress was definitely way too short.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, dizzy.

“Because I’m tired of pretending I’m not in love with you and want to bury my face between your tits until I suffocate,” she let out. You stared at her, gaping like a fish and probably looking stupid, but you couldn’t stop.

“I- I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I love you, too,” you finally let out, baring your heart to her and feeling like a thousand kilos lifted from your chest.

“Now come on, let’s blow his mind so we can be a power thruple,” she joked to reduce the tension in the air. But you didn’t laugh.

“He wants only you either way, he only invited me because I was there and it would have been weird otherwise,” you said with a self-depreciating laugh.

She turned around and looked at you with anger flaring in her eyes: “Are you stupid? Do you like being stupid?” She asked, her tone accusing.

“I only tell the facts.” You were sure of it, there was no way your hot as hell best friend just kissed you because she liked you AND your hot minotaur boss also liked you, you couldn’t be that lucky, not a chance in hell.

“Okay, dummy, if he gapes at you like a fish when he sees you in that outfit I get to spank your ass tonight,” she threatened and you shivered. A whole body shiver.

How did she know you were into spanking? You never discussed your sex life with her… Or maybe you did when you were drunk at the last Christmas party. Shit, you definitely did tell her that. Oh goddess, you were going to die of embarrassment.

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, your face red as a tomato at that point.

“If he doesn’t, you get to tell me I told you so.” You did love to tell her that when you were right.

“Deal.” You were going to win for sure.

But she was right, and you fucking lost.

He not only gaped at you, but as soon as you entered, he reached to grab your waist and pulled you to his body to devour your mouth. As your friend (girlfriend?) cheered and patted you in the back, his roaming hands groped your ass until your panties were wet and uncomfortable, and your heart was about to explode from your chest. He pulled back and grabbed your friend in the same way, kissing her senseless until she was groaning and you were dripping wet just looking at them.

He was breathing hard when you three pulled apart. “You both look fantastic, I’ve been waiting to do that since you were hired,” he confessed in a low tone.

“But you… You are the boss,” you told him, dizzy from arousal and confusion. Your brain didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Was that really happening? Good goddess, were you dreaming? Was all that a dream? Were you in an accident?

He didn’t even blink before saying: “Which means we all should visit the HR department tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” You asked, still not knowing what was happening.

“Because you two are now mine,” his growl made you shiver as you felt your girlfriend’s hand on your leg, comforting you.

Oh shit, you just got yourself a boyfriend AND a girlfriend, what the fuck?

You three joked and had fun until midnight, when he, being the gentle minotaur he was, walked you two to your shared apartment and kissed you goodbye. It was the hottest and most decadent kiss you ever received, and when he kissed your best friend you whimpered. She chuckled and grabbed your neck, devouring your mouth, too. Good goddess you loved when she got all controlling like that.

“You,” he pointed your minotaur boss (boyfriend?), “need to go home. And I, need to spank her ass because I won a bet.” She pulled the back of your dress up, exposing your ass to the night and groping you until you groaned. She smirked at you as your boss groaned like it pained him.

“Don’t do this to me, now I will have to jerk off twice before going to bed,” he whined, readjusting what looked like a huge erection in his pants.

“Have fun with your hand, big guy. We’ll see you tomorrow and if everything goes well… You might get lucky and get to spank her ass, too.” The fact that she was offering that without even considering you about it shouldn’t be hot, but you couldn’t contain the groan that escaped your mouth.

“Oh goddess, I might have to do it three times… You two are going to kill me,” he lamented without any sadness behind it, kissing your forehead and hers and going back to his car.

You two watched him go, and when you were safely back inside, you felt a hand squeezing your ass in a very naughty way. She guided you to your bedroom and spanked you until you cried, and then fucked you with your favorite dildo until you came all over yourself, your poor sheets not making it. You had to sleep with her as she complained jokingly. But it was her fault, after all.

The morning after, everything felt happier and brighter, and when you two had breakfast in comfortable silence you couldn’t avoid having horny thoughts about your girlfriend and boss going at it over the counter. She winked at you like she knew what you were thinking, and slapped your tender ass as you walked to the car. You whimpered as she laughed, you never felt more desired.

Your boss was waiting at the door of the HR department, looking handsome as hell as you walked to him. He looked like he wanted to kiss you senseless again, but he refrained and opened the door so you two could go first. You had to sign some papers about not suing the company and all that law stuff, and when everything was set, he grabbed your waist and bent you back, kissing you like in the movies and leaving you breathless. He did the same with your girlfriend (now shared girlfriend), and walked out saying he had some calls to make but he would meet you two later.

You walked to your desk in a daze and the work tasks seemed impossible for a long while.

“We have a meeting in five minutes,” your girlfriend said as she stopped next to your desk about an hour later.

“We have?” You looked at her panicked, you didn’t have any meeting in your calendar. You didn’t prepare. What was the meeting even about?

“Yes. Move your pretty ass, come on.” You were still panicking when she dragged you all the way to the meeting room, where your boss was already sitting on his big chair, legs far apart and cock out, slowly stroking himself. You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Wha- what are we doing here?” You asked, your panties already wet just seeing his huge juicy cock disappearing in his fist. It was the most erotic sight you’ve ever seen, you wanted to fall to your knees and swallow him to the root (which was very hopeful because you probably couldn’t even get half of him in your mouth without choking).

“I heard that my girlfriend didn’t think I was into her, so I decided we needed a team meeting to rectify that,” your boss-boyfriend explained, his hand working non-stop over his shaft.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Get naked and bend over the table. Now,” your girlfriend ordered and you looked between the two.

“What?” You couldn’t comprehend anything. Did they talk about you? Did your girlfriend told him that? You felt your face getting redder and redder.

“Now, darling,” he repeated in a softer tone.

You complied, still confused about what was happening. When you were face down on the table, you heard them whispering behind you, not sure about what they were saying. Soon after you felt rough hands caressing your sides and your ass, such a soft touch that you shivered. Two softer hands joined, touching you everywhere. It was like a combined massage and you were rapidly losing your mind.

A hand pushed your legs apart, and a tongue found your center. You wanted to look over your shoulder and see who it was, but they didn’t let you, a hand in your back pressing you against the table. The tongue was replaced with another, and then both of them were licking your pussy in tandem, worshiping you as they groaned. Their hands were groping your ass and tummy, you could feel them everywhere.

“Please…” You begged, almost there but not quite. They were playing with you, getting you almost to orgasm and backing down. You were desperate.

“I know darling, I know… Just let go.” Your minotaur said, a finger entering your pussy slowly and tenderly. You groaned again, and let yourself surrender to pleasure.

They were everywhere, they surrounded your body with caresses and kisses, hands roaming everywhere as you laid there, unable to move as they worshiped your body. It was the softest and most intense experience of your life. The orgasm kept building, slowly and surely, and by the time you were about to come, a harsh hand landed on your ass, making you cry out as you fell apart under their attention.

You were still panting when your girlfriend whispered against your ear: “You did great.” She kissed your cheek and caressed your hair softly.

“Such a good girl for us,” your boyfriend added, kissing your forehead.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you responded, half joking, half telling the truth.

“Good thing my penthouse is right at the top of the building,” your boyfriend said, taking your body off the table like you weighted nothing. You were about to protest that you were too heavy when he talked again: “If you say you are too big, I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit in a week,” he threatened.

“Don’t tempt her, she’s a good girl, but she loves to be a good slut, too.” You blushed hard, hiding your face against your boss’ neck as they both laughed.

“Let’s go to my house so we can finish what we started,” his tone was rough and deep, like the sea at night.

“What?” You asked, as the same time your girlfriend said: “What do you mean?”

“Oh, darling, if you think you aren’t going to be full of cum when I’m done with you, you are heavily mistaken. And that goes for both of you,” he added, bending down to kiss your girlfriend’s open mouth.

[meazalykov]

the critic

lena oberdorf x reader

summary: when lena gets tagged in a video clip, she approaches you

before the cameras, before the viral clips, before the edits, before your voice became synonymous with women’s soccer commentary, there was your games itself.

you used to play, back in the day. soccer was your life—practices in the morning, matches on weekends, hours spent refining your craft, the feel of the ball at your feet something almost sacred. 

you had dreams, big ones, of playing at the highest level, maybe even for the national team. but that all came crashing down when a spinal injury took you out of the game. 

one bad fall, a rough tackle by three players at once in a crucial match, and suddenly, everything you had worked for was gone. 

the doctors said you were lucky to be walking and running again, but for a long time, it didn’t feel like luck. 

it felt like a curse, like soccer was ripped away from you when you were just starting to get your footing in the world of professional sports. 

lyon was close to signing you from your childhood club. however, that changed. the deal had to fail and so did your dream.

so you had to shift gears. you couldn’t play anymore, but you could talk about the game, share your insights, your passion, your love for it with the world. 

and, as it turned out, people loved listening to you. your analysis was sharp, your delivery honest, your humor was sweet, and soon enough, you became a well-known voice in women’s soccer commentary. 

you poured everything you couldn’t put on the pitch into your work, and it paid off.

now, here you are—2023, world cup, germany vs colombia. the stadium is electric, fans buzzing with anticipation. 

it’s your job to capture all of it, to bring the game to life for those watching at home. 

alongside you in the commentator’s booth is tyrell, your close friend and co-host for one of the biggest sports streaming sites in the world. 

you adjust your headset, eyes scanning the field as the camera pans over the players. 

"alright, tyrell, we’ve got quite the matchup today," you say, your voice carrying across the broadcast. 

"germany is looking to bounce back after their last game, and colombia has been on fire in their latest matches with caicedo. it’s anyone’s game today."

"no doubt," tyrell agrees. 

“but you know i’ve got my eye on germany’s midfield. lena oberdorf, she’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders in this one. one of the best defensive midfielders in the world is on the pitch tonight." he finishes. 

you nod, your gaze locking onto oberdorf as she moves across the pitch. 

she’s been a standout for years—strong, composed, a true force in the midfield. 

you’ve always admired the way she plays, the way she commands respect on the field as she will roughly stop any opponent attack. 

but today, something feels off. you’ve been watching her closely during the first half, and you can’t help but feel like she’s holding back.

"honestly," you start, pausing to gather your thoughts, "i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

there’s a brief silence as tyrell turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

it’s not often that you call out a player like that, especially someone as highly regarded as oberdorf. 

"really?" he asks, curious. "what do you think’s going on with her?"

you lean forward slightly, watching as the replay of germany’s midfield play rolls across your monitor. 

"she’s not playing with her usual aggression. oberdorf is known for her ability to dominate the midfield, to break up play and transition quickly. but today, she’s been hesitant. this can’t continue if they don’t want someone like caicedo to get in their box. oberdorf needs to press harder, get more involved in the attack. if she steps it up in the second half, she can make the difference that germany needs."

your words hang in the air for a moment before tyrell responds, and the conversation shifts back to the overall match. 

but you can’t shake the feeling that your comment will stir something up. 

sure enough, by the time the game is over—colombia managing to scrape by with a fantastic win—your phone is buzzing nonstop. 

social media is ablaze with the clip of you critiquing oberdorf, the internet having latched onto the rare moment where you offered up something negative about a player you so clearly admired.

fans of both you and lena are eating it up, dissecting your analysis, making memes, and some even suggesting you had ulterior motives. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve been vocal in the past about your respect for oberdorf’s game. 

and maybe, if you’re being totally honest, there’s more to it than just respect. 

you’ve followed her career closely, always a little more interested in her games than others. not that you’d ever admit to having a bit of a crush on her—not publicly, anyway.

across the city, at the team hotel, lena oberdorf is stretched out on her bed, headphones in, trying to decompress after the match. 

her body is exhausted, germany didn’t get the result they needed. her phone buzzes with notifications, but she ignores it for now, lost in her thoughts.

that is, until laura freigang walks in, a mischievous grin on her face and her phone in hand. 

"lena," she says, her voice sings, "it looks like someone’s got their eye on you."

lena sits up, raising an eyebrow. "what are you talking about?"

laura tosses her phone onto the bed, and lena catches it, her eyes narrowing as she watches the video that’s already queued up. 

it’s you, sitting in the commentator’s booth, talking about her. her. 

"honestly, i expected more from oberdorf during that first half."

lena blinks, her mind processing the words. she’s used to hearing praise, especially from someone like you, who’s usually more positive in your analysis. 

but this? it feels different. not harsh, but… honest. like you know she could do better, and that, in a weird way, feels almost flattering.

"see?" laura says, flopping onto the bed next to her. 

"she noticed you. she expects more from you, lena."

lena rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. 

it’s no secret, at least among her teammates, that she’s always found you attractive. she’s mentioned it once or twice—half-joking, half-serious—how she watches your broadcasts not just for the analysis but because, well, you’re easy on the eyes. 

but she never thought it would go beyond that. you were based in new york city, worlds away from her, and probably didn’t even know she existed outside of your job.

but now? maybe things have changed.

"i don’t want to get your hopes up because it could’ve been a simple analysis but maybe this is your shot," laura adds, nudging lena with her elbow. 

"go for it. what’s the worst that could happen?"

lena hesitates, the idea forming in her mind. it’s bold, sure, but she’s never been one to shy away from taking risks. "yeah… maybe i will."

later that night, you’re sitting in the hotel bar, winding down after a long day of commentary in australia. 

the buzz from the viral clip still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re half-expecting to get some flak for it. but instead, it seems like people are more entertained by the whole thing than anything else. 

you take a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the room, when you hear a voice behind you.

"hey y/n-- I'm sorry, uh I hope i’m not interrupting."

you turn, and your breath catches in your throat for just a second. it’s lena oberdorf, standing right in front of you, looking a little nervous but still carrying that air of confidence she always has on the pitch.

how did she find you? maybe the german national team stayed nearby? i mean, you were told this was a popular bar in sydney.

however, why would lena go to a bar if she has to prepare for the important match against south korea?

"not at all," you manage, trying to keep your cool despite the sudden rush of nerves.

"what’s up?"

"i, uh, saw the clip," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "the one where you talked about me."

you chuckle softly, feeling a slight flush in your cheeks. "yeah… i didn’t mean to come off too harsh. just being honest, you know?"

you didn’t know how to react, so you smile. no player has confronted you about your comments before. this is a first.

"no, i get it," she smiles, her eyes locking onto yours. 

"honesty’s good. i just… wanted to ask if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. maybe when you’re in germany next? i’d love to take you out." lena speaks in perfect english. 

you blink, surprised by the offer. of all the things you expected tonight, this wasn’t one of them. but looking at her now, her smile genuine and her eyes soft with hope, you can’t help but smile back.

"yeah," you say, heart racing just a little. "i’d like that."

you were a little older than her, older by two years, but she carried herself in a way that pulled you to her.

the world feels a little smaller, the distance between you and lena shrinking with a single conversation. 

you think that maybe you should critic her more often, kidding— of course.

my masterlist is here if you want to read more fics <3

[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[jasntodds]

can i request a jason fic 🥺 i was reading through the prompt list and saw two ("here's a spare key, so you don't have to keep coming through the window" and "i didn't know you could cook this good") and i thought they'd make a cute setup for a friends to lovers moment 🥺 sorry for not being around! i've been struggling with reading on my phone for long periods of time the last few months 😭 -guiltywaves

@guiltywaves omg hey!! I love friends to lovers so much dkjf but no no it's totally okay!! No worries!! I totally understand!! It happens to me all the time lmao I'm so sorry this took so long!! I wanted it to be perfect and make sure it wasn't super long!! I hope you like it!!

Maybe I'll do a part 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of injuries

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

Jason climbs through your window. A routine of sorts, really. After patrol, he comes by and always through your window. Sometimes he’s injured and lets you help him before you offer your couch to him. Sometimes he just stops by with a snack. But, he always comes in through the window.

Tonight is no different.

It’s after three when your window creaks open, Jason noting to himself to fix it for you. He crawls through your window, your apartment dark as it usually is when he comes by this late. He flips on the floor lamp to your living room before taking his helmet off and making his way to your kitchen to rest it on the table. He finds a note, your handwriting scribbled across the page containing Nightwing symbols at the corner.

Jason rolls his eyes but reads the note.

Leftovers in the fridge please eat

A smile tugs itself onto his lips before he pockets the note, folding it neatly beforehand. He’s quiet, reaching for the fridge where he finds the leftovers already in a bowl for him with a note that has his name on it, something that almost always makes him laugh. He's the only one you ever save food for.

This note has the Robin symbol.

He doesn’t think you even own anything with a Red Hood symbol and a very large part of him knows it’s because you do it to fuck with him.

It works every time.

He grabs the bowl, pulling the plastic wrap from it before he pops it in the microwave. He grabs a fork from the drawer and leans himself against the counter with hooded eyes, sleep tugging at his chest and bones. Patrol wasn't too bad tonight, that's not really it. He's standing in your kitchen and it's comfortable here. He's allowed to breathe with ease in your apartment and sometimes, that alone can make him crave sleep. The white noise of the microwave is only contributing to the heaviness of his eyes until it’s suddenly interrupted.

“Knew you’d be hungry.” Your voice tugs Jason from his almost sleep.

You look tired.

You sound tired.

“Thank you.” Jason’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of red as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just gonna eat and head out.”

“You can stay.” You roll your shoulders.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “‘M fine.” He gives you this toothy grin as some sort of proof he isn’t injured tonight though you’ve already pieced that together with him heating up his food.

“It’s late. You’re just gonna be more tired after you eat, Jay. It’s not like you don’t stay half the time anyway.” You roll your eyes at him before you disappear down the hall.

The microwave dings and it sends Jason quickly reaching for the handle to get it to stop. The noise is so jarring in your quiet apartment it sounds like his ears might bleed. The bowl is hot on his fingertips as he grabs it, quickly stirring before he puts it back in for a bit more time.

“I got you something.” You state as you reemerge from the hallway.

Jason’s brow quirks up. “What?” He let out a half-scoff half-chuckle.

The microwave barely gets a ding off before Jason grabs it and removes his bowl. He places it on the counter before you approach him. Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully before he sticks his fork into the pile of pasta.

“Here’s a spare key.” You stick out your hand and open your palm, revealing a painted red key. It matches his helmet. “So you don’t have to keep coming through the window.”

Jason thinks he might have a panic attack.

He’s comfortable around you. You’re his best friend. You’ve been friends for years, long before Red Hood. You know everything there is to know about him. It’s why he’s so comfortable walking into your apartment and grabbing his food. It’s why he can get some sleep when he’s here. But, having a key feels serious. It feels like a large responsibility. It feels like a commitment to something he’s not sure he knows what to do with.

He's staring at your palm like the key might try to bite and you have to hold your breath. There's always a chance he says no and it really shouldn't be a big deal because he's your best friend but you hold your breath anyway. You tell yourself it's just a key because Jason Todd deserves to feel welcomed somewhere at all times and that somewhere is here.

“Jay, you’re here all the time.” You tell him before you grab his hand and put the key in it. “Just use the damn key. And whenever you want.” You shrug. “I know sometimes you just don’t want to be alone so you can just come over whenever. I don’t know. You’re just always welcome.” You glance to the key in his hand and then up to him, hoping he takes it.

“I can’t do that.” Jason shakes his head, still holding out the palm of his hand.

“And why not?” You challenge.

Jaosn’s different than he was when you were kids. He’s guarded, cautious, you think he’s scared. When he was a kid, he was a little fearless and a little reckless. It wasn’t anything too crazy but a little reckless. He was open and welcoming. He was still cautious but it was more that caution just came from needing to survive from one day to the next. Jason’s caution today makes him look over his shoulder, look at every single person near him to see if they have a weapon. It makes him hide a gun under your couch and in one of your cabinets. He has a stash of food in his apartment he thinks you don’t know about. He’s different now than he was. So, you offer patience while still testing him. He doesn’t need to be different with you.

“Not trying to impose.” Jason tries to play off his own fears. “The window’s fine.” He tries to deflect. “It’s not even a bother anyway and—“

You let out a sigh cutting him off. “You’re not imposing if I’m inviting you which I am. The window’s fine until someone spots you and wants to know what the fuck is going on. The door is right here.” You point over your shoulder to the door. “Just take the key and use it.” You offer him a soft smile. "I want you here." You clarify.

Maybe it’s not the key itself that makes Jason want to run through a window. It’s the implication of what a key could lead to. And what if you ask for it back?

What if you change your mind?

“I painted it to match your helmet.” Your eyes soften, a hint of innocence behind them.

Jason's eyes go to the table, spotting his helmet and his chest feels like it’s on fire. Most of the stationary you own has to do with the bats. You have random collectibles of theirs, too which may have actually been gifted to you but you have them regardless. But the key to your apartment is Red Hood red.

You think you see a smile forming.

“Fine.” He caves, curling his fingers around the key before stuffing it deep into his pocket. “‘M gonna thank you for it then.”

“Okay, Jay.” You shine, relieved he took it.

“Can I eat now?” He points to his bowl of food that's no longer steaming.

“Yes, yes you can.” You chime.

Jason picks up his bowl, leaning his lower back against your counter before he twirls the pasta around the fork. You sit in front of him on your table just watching him. He’s your best friend but it’s hard not to notice how the armor compliments his muscle. It’s hard not to notice how pretty he is even in the low light of your apartment. You think he’s always been pretty but since reconnecting, you can’t help but think he’s stunning and tall and big. Your mind wanders to his hands, the way he holds the fork with large but delicate fingers as if he could break the metal with ease. You think how it would feel to hold his hand in yours, knowing Jason’s always radiated heat. You think how his palms are probably calloused and how they’d feel against your skin and—

Nope.

You shake your head of your own thoughts. He’s your friend and you’re just extra tired and touch-starved lately.

“How was patrol?” You ask with ease, kicking your feet in front of you, just missing his legs.

He shrugs. “Not too bad.” He answers. “Stopped a few robberies.” He states as he twirls his fork around his pasta.

“You look tired.”

He hums softly before taking his first bite, not even realizing how hungry he was until now.

“You look tired.” Jason quips back with the nod of his head towards you.

“That’s because it’s four in the morning.” You laugh softly. “Most people are tired at this time.” You widen your eyes at him to tease him.

"You can go back to bed, don't have to watch me eat." Jason widens his eyes back at you in response.

"No, that's okay." You smile back at him, not wanting to go back to bed when you could be out here with him.

“You know,” Jason starts as he points his fork at you. “Gotta get you different stationary. Tired of your Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin bullshit.” He changes subject, a little relieved you want to stay up a little bit with him. He feels guilty you're up with him but he does really enjoy your company.

“Aww,” You give him a pout. “But don’t you just love Dick and Damian and Tim?”

Jason blinks at you a few times as he keeps a straight face before taking another bite.

You let out a laugh and Jason thinks your laugh could cure him of all of his sadness.

“They’re your brothers.” You giggle.

“Exactly.” Jason answers.

“I could have painted your key Nightwing blue or the Robin colors.” You tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t pick Spoiler or Orphan?” Jason says it more sarcastically than anything else.

“No, you like Steph and Cass.” You laugh.

“Swear, if I show up to Batman shit, I’m out.” Jason laughs back.

You make a mental note to pick up a Batman mug tomorrow just to fuck with him.

“Of course not.” You scoff but Jason knows he's given you the bad idea.

Jason laughs softly before taking another bite. “Go to bed.”

You let out a sigh before you hop down, noticing Jason is almost done eating anyway. "Pillow and blanket are already on the couch for you."

Jason glances to the couch, seeing a pale blue blanket peaking out from the arm of the couch.

"Thank you." Jason offers you a sincere but small smile. "Goodnight."

“Goodnight, Jay.” You smile softly before heading back to your room.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. For a few seconds, you think you’re either dreaming or hallucinating. But the longer you lay in bed, the more you become positive there’s definitely food being made.

It smells a little sweet and warm. It actually smells warm. And yet, it’s almost completely silent in your apartment. You figure it’s Jason because Jason can cook but you have no clue how he manages to be so quiet about everything he does. Sure, it’s his training and his life depends on it, but every time you try to cook anything, you drop at least one pan onto the floor and utensils usually go flying somewhere. You feel bad for you downstairs neighbors.

You grab your phone from the charger, pocketing it before you head out to the kitchen, still wiping sleep from your eyes. The smell grows stronger and you finally figure out it’s your favorite breakfast food. A smile pokes at your lips because, in all your years of friendship, you and Jason have only done breakfast a handful of times but he remembers anyway.

He’s attentive. That’s also something that comes with his training because his life depends on it. But, you knew him before Rd Hood. Before Robin and Batman. Jason Todd has always been attentive and you don’t think it’s something about living on the streets. It’s something that’s embedded into his DNA, pay attention to small things. Maybe that’s because of his mom, his overall childhood of having to take care of her but maybe it’s also just him.

“Morning.” You greet as you stretch your arms over your head, bending your back back a bit.

“G’morning.” Jason greets as he turns around from the stove.

He sounds well-rested.

He looks well-rested for once.

“You’re making breakfast?” You question as you walk over to your coffee maker, an empty cup already ready sitting there for you.

“Told ya I’d pay you back.” Jason states as he continues cooking.

“You really know the way to my heart.” You joke as you get your coffee going. “Always food.”

You watch Jason continue to cook and you think you could probably be mesmerized by everything he does. He's not really doing anything special but it seems that way because it's him. He could trip over a rock and fall into a lake and you'd still be mesmerized.

"Hello?" Jason calls, waving a hand in front of your face. Your eyes snap up to his as you feel your cheeks starting to burn. "I asked how you slept." Jason chuckles as he starts to plate the food for the both of you. "You alright?"

You shake your head, almost fumbling for words. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out." You clear your throat before you start to pour your cup of coffee. "Good, to answer your question." You let out a breath with the roll of your shoulders. "You?" You ask with a soft smile before you make your way to your spot at the table.

Jason always tends to sleep better here. Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable or the biggest but he still feels like he gets real sleep whenever he’s here. He could sleep a few hours and still be more rested than had he just slept at his place.

Jason doesn’t mind being alone, it’s always a bit safer if not for him then for the people around him but being alone gets pretty lonely. He doesn’t have to feel alone here. You’re here and he thinks he’d never be lonely again if you were always around.

“Good.” Jason answers, not willing to elaborate on his thoughts. “Your breakfast is served, princess.” Jason smirks at you with his quip as he sets the plate down in front of you.

“Ass.” You retort with the roll of your eyes just as Jason goes to take the plate back. Your hand grips his wrist. Your hand is no match for him, it’s tiny compared to him and his strength alone is enough but he stops anyway. “No, no, I’ll take this thank you.” You push his hand away and guard your food.

He laughs with the shake of his head and you hope the walls are absorbing the sound. Jason stays at your apartment a few days a week but he’s never here when you wake up. The blanket is always folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow placed perfectly on top. There’s always some sort of note thanking you for letting him crash. Sometimes, if you sleep in because work sucked or you're sick, he picks up some of your favorite snacks and takeout, leaving it in the fridge for you for when you wake up. But, he’s never here.

You find yourself thinking you could get used to this though. His laugh in the early morning and him looking so comfortable.

His hair is all tousled from sleeping. He looks a little disheveled. You see him disheveled all the time because he always has helmet hair and he’s always getting himself into trouble. It kind of comes tih with territory, you think. But, today, it’s just because he slept here. He looks disheveled because his hair is messy and he’s comfortable. He looks comfortable and warm and you’d go as far as to say he looks beautiful.

You hope he chooses to stay more.

“Okay, I didn't know you could cook this good.” You states after taking a few bites, genuinely surprised. Is there anything Jason Todd is bad at?

A rosey shade of pink dusts over his cheeks as he shrugs. “What? Thought I only eat pasta and whatever else you managed to save me?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his ribcage.

“Well…yes.” You let out a laugh while Jason offers you his fake glare.

“Like to cook sometimes, got good at it.” Jason shrugs a shoulder with his minimal explanation.

“Well, now you have to cook more.” You shrug easily as you offer him a grin.

“I have to?” Jason raises a brow at you, taunting you to rethink your words.

You don’t.

“Yes. I said so.” You laugh back at him.

“Not sure I want to now.” Jason shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

“Awww, pretty please, Jay.” You give him a pout and not even a single ounce of him actually believes he’d ever be able to say no to you about anything.

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Jason asks before he goes back to his food.

“Wait, really?” You beam and Jason glances back to you.

There’s always this sort of pull in his chest when things feel good, like he’s undeserving and he needs to wait for the other foot to drop. It feels like this now. He feels comfortable here. He’s happy here with you. You’re his favorite person and you're always the person he wants to talk to you about a new book he read or something insane one of the bats did. You’re the first person, the only person, he goes to when he’s been hurt on patrol. Jason swears you’re his best friend despite the beating and rumbling through his ribcage.

“Unless you’re bored of--”

“I’m never bored of you.” You cut him off immediately. “Okay, I’ll think of something and I can help.” You beam back at him with excitement before going back to your food.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jason’s lips and despite the worrying and fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face, he finds himself thinking he could get used to mornings with you, just like this.

[cosmicdahlias]

Take Me Under

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: NONCON, drugging, somnophilia, oral, smut

so this is a spiritual successor to my last fic, it’s not a continuation but the themes are similar

It was a warm summer night in Gravity Falls. The crickets chirped as you sat out on the porch with your research partner, Stanford Pines. You nursed your glass of whiskey that Ford had poured for you. It had been a long night of research, Ford was trying to build an interdimensional gateway, stuff you would’ve thought five years ago only existed in science fiction, but he really was a genius.

His other partner had already gone home for the night, Fiddleford. He was a good guy, a family man with a son, you believed his name was Tate. Tonight you were kind of happy Fiddleford had left already, you liked him just fine but the truth was you had feelings for his cohort.

You blushed whenever Ford looked your way, eyed his hands as they fiddled with the laboratory devices, wondering to yourself how his hands would feel on you. There were so many times you wanted to tell him how you felt, to confess your true feelings. With Fiddleford almost always present the timing never felt right, but tonight you had Ford all to yourself.

Neither of you said much, just taking in the night air. You bounced your leg nervously, you started to feel light headed but decided to ignore it. Ford studied your face, it was clear you were anxious about something.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You bit the bullet and took a deep breath.

“Ford, I-“

But before you could get another word out the world around you began to sway, the corners of your vision going black, the darkness slowly creeping in. You felt yourself falling forward. The last thing you heard was Ford’s voice.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

-

Ford caught you in his arms, he looked down at you, not sure what to do. He shook you.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

He tried to collect his thoughts, what the hell had just happened? You were fine all day and now you were out cold. He put a hand to your forehead, it felt normal, you weren’t sick.

A chilling laugh that made the hairs on his neck stand on end echoed through his head.

“Well well well well well well well well well, looks like the perfect opportunity is right in front of you, sixer.”

Ford swallowed. “Bill?”

“The one and only. So what do you think of my handiwork?”

“Handiwork? What handiwork?”

“Oh come on, you’ve been pining after this kid for ages and you’ve been too darn afraid to do anything so I figured I’d throw you a bone.”

Ford felt a pit grow in his stomach “Bill… what did you do?”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, sixer. I just had you add a little something special to their drink.”

Ford was horrified. “Bill, that’s- you can’t-“

“Oh come off it Fordsy, you and I both know this is a golden opportunity. Do you seriously think you’re gonna have the guts to even kiss them when they’re awake?”

Ford bit his lip, Bill was right, he was a coward when it came to you.

“Mull it over, I’ll leave you two alone for now, don’t be a pussy. Byyyyyyeeeee.”

And with that things were quiet again, it was just Ford and you lying unconscious in his arms. He felt his pulse in his throat. He had wanted to kiss you, to know you intimately for so long. Would he really get another chance like this?

He stood up, and carried you through the front door. He walked through the dark shack, the floorboards creaking underneath his feet. He opened the door to his room and walked to the edge of his bed, setting you down gently on the plush covers.

He cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. He knew it was sick, but thought you looked incredibly cute passed out. Your lips were parted slightly, so kissable. He couldn’t resist, he leaned down and kissed you deeply and felt himself grow achingly hard. Fuck, this felt so wrong but he didn’t have the will to stop himself now.

His fingers traced the top button of your blouse, undoing each of them slowly, kissing his way down the valley between your breasts as he did so.

He thumbed the delicate lace of your bra, god if you hadn’t planned to be seen like this why would you wear something so sexy underneath? He slipped a hand down your back to sit you up so he could undo your bra.

He sucked in a breath as he laid you back down and took in the sight of your breasts, they were so fucking perfect. He had pictured it in his mind thousands of times but the real thing was even better than he imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. Taking your other breast in his hand, he circled your nipple with his index finger.

His cock throbbed through his pants. If this was wrong why was he so turned on? Was he really that depraved? He shook his head, trying to escape the thoughts and enjoy the moment.

He ran his calloused hands up your thighs and started to pull down your pants. He let out a small dark chuckle, matching underwear. Yeah, you were asking for this. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and slid them off your legs. The sight of you elicited another sinister laugh from him. You were soaking wet, even in your unconscious state your body begged for him.

He pulled his hands off of you and began removing his trench coat, next his sweater vest and collared shirt. He unbuckled his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud thud. He slid his boxers off of his hips and let them fall over his discarded pants.

He stroked himself absentmindedly as he studied your naked body. He wished he had a polaroid camera so he could save this moment forever. He wanted to ravage you, claim you. Then it occurred to him that it would only be fair to make you cum if he was going to destroy you.

He slid himself down the length of your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His hot breath tickled your pussy. He took your clit in his mouth, his tongue flicking it rapidly. He moaned into your pussy, you tasted so fucking good. He wished that you were awake so you could tangle your fingers in his hair. He slid his index and middle finger inside of you, pumping roughly into you.

He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, your wetness dripping out of you. He worked you with a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you.

He sucked your clit furiously, his fingers fucking you with a brutal intensity. Your pussy began to spasm around his fingers, he knew you were close. He kept at his pace, wanting to push you to orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, cum for me.”

You began to pulse around his fingers, a small moan escaped your lips. He reveled in your orgasm. His cock leaked precum and twitched wildly. Nothing had ever gotten him this aroused.

He got up, dragging you head first to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back. He swiped his finger on your tongue, feeling the warmth of your mouth. He angled his cock to your lips and shoved himself down your throat.

He fucked your mouth aggressively, panting and swearing. You looked so pretty with his cock in your throat. He bucked his hips into your face, holding a hand to your neck, feeling his cock bulge in your throat.

He felt himself getting close, and pulled out. His breathing was ragged. He took a moment to collect himself before picking you up and laying you back down with your head on the pillow.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you deeply, hands fondling your breasts. He aligned his cock with your entrance and with a loud groan forced himself into you all the way to the hilt. The way your pussy gripped his cock was perfect.

-

Your eyes fluttered open, all you could see from the dim light of the bedside table lamp was a figure moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted and you started to come back to reality it hit you just what was happening and who it was.

“FORD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Oh, you’re awake. I’m sorry but you passed out and you just looked so perfect that I had to have you.”

You desperately tried to free yourself from underneath him, you clawed at his arms. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them down above your head.

“Don’t- ah, don’t struggle. I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“Ford, stop. Please.” You cried.

“I can’t, nngh, you feel too good.”

He fucked you hard, pumping his thick cock into you. The slick, wet sounds filling the room. He forced his lips on yours and moaned into your mouth, his tongue shoving its way to the back of your throat.

You wrestled yourself out of his grip and pushed him off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and ran for your life for the door, but Ford was faster. He tackled you and pinned you to the floor.

“Baby please don’t make this, ugh, harder than it has to be.” He whispered into your ear as you fought back against him.

He pulled you to your feet and shoved you back down on the bed, pinning your wrists once more. He was going to finish what he started. He violently forced himself into you again, his rhythm punishing. He groaned loudly and bit your neck, you whimpered. His cock twitching at the noise.

He stopped for a second, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he had stolen off a cop during a night of possession by Bill. He cuffed your hands above your head. His hand now free to travel south, making its way to your clit. He drew circles with his fingers while continuing to brutally fuck you, causing your pussy clench around his cock. The pleasure was indescribable, god he loved it.

You tried to struggle again, but Ford held you down by the waist with his free hand. His breathing quickened, he was close, you were too. He pounded you into the mattress, the bed frame shaking.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum, I need you to cum around my cock.”

His fingers didn’t let up, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You bit into his into his shoulder and felt the skin break, the sickly metallic taste of blood flooding your mouth. That was enough to send Ford over, he cocked his head back and his moan echoed throughout the shack. You cried out as you came, tears welling in your eyes.

Ford shuddered and panted, he was spent. He rolled off of you and collapsed beside you. You laid there, shaking and crying. Ford took your face in his hand, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

“Shh shh shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He cooed. “Let me get those cuffs off of you.”

With a click of the little key your hands were released. You thought about using this as an opportunity to run, but you felt frozen. He kissed you lazily on your lips and neck, then he pulled you against his chest. His big calloused hands stroked your back. You felt strangely comforted, safe almost. You had always wanted this, to be wrapped in Ford’s arms.

Ford had desired you for so long, and now that he finally had you he wasn’t going to let you go.

[hederasgarden]

Under the Influence - Part 1

Summary: While investigating a suspicious pharmaceutical company, you and Clark find yourselves exposed to a drug that forces you to grapple with its unforeseen consequences. Pairing: Clark Kent x F!Reader  Word Count: 3.9K Warning: 18+ only, explicit sexual content. Dubious consent (reader and Clark are exposed to sex pollen), unprotected PIV, size kink, biting, angst and other untagged themes.  A/N: Thank you @ryebecca @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for holding my hand through this and Becca for beta’ing!

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist ♡ Henry Cavill Characters Masterlist

It’s late, and the glittering skyline of Metropolis stretches out beyond the windows of the Daily Planet. The usual hum of activity in the bullpen is absent tonight – it’s just you, Clark, and an intimidating stack of boxes that seem to multiply with every passing minute. You may have indulged in a daydream or two about Clark just like this, but none of them ever involved so much paperwork.

You stifle a yawn, reaching for your coffee, only to nearly choke when you realize it’s gone cold. Grimacing, you set the offending mug aside and try to wash away the stale taste with water. The sound catches Clark’s attention and pulls him from his work. He offers you a wiry smile that you return, struck once again by just how handsome he looks. He makes it all too easy to have a crush on him, even though you know it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“I’ll put on a fresh pot,” he offers, stretching as he stands. 

Despite shedding his suit jacket earlier, and the way his tie is slightly askew, he still manages to look annoyingly chipper despite the late hour. You lean back to pass him your mug, your stiff muscles protesting. They ache from hours of sitting and sorting. 

“Back in a jiffy,” he promises, disappearing down the hall. 

By now, the two of you have been hunched over documents for nearly ten hours. Half of them are so technical they might as well be gibberish, but you’ve found a few leads in the financial papers. Unfortunately, your current stack of documents is so heavily redacted that they’re practically useless. You groan in frustration, resting your forehead on your arms until Clark returns, bringing the rich, intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee with him. 

You accept the mug with a smile but quickly set it on the table when the warmth that seeps through the ceramic nearly burns your fingers. Not for the first time, you wonder how Clark managed to get the ancient coffee machine to percolate so quickly. For everyone else, it typically spewed out lukewarm sludge.

“Bet you're regretting volunteering for this assignment now,” Clark says. 

“Not for a moment,” you reply. “You’re still sharing that byline with me, right?” You question, squinting up at him.

“I always keep my promises,” he says with such earnestness that you’re reminded once again why Perry liked to call him a Boy Scout.

“I’ll hold you to it because this story’s turned into a beast.”

Clark sighs, resting his hands on his hips as he surveys the cluttered table strewn with file boxes and paper.  “It really has,” he agrees. 

When Perry called for a volunteer from the pool of junior editors to help with an expose on Salvation Pharmaceuticals, you jumped at the opportunity and not just because Clark was the writer assigned to the story. Most of your days were spent copyediting stories and arguing about AP style. You were just itching for some hands-on research experience, although neither of you expected the thread Clark pulled to unravel so quickly or so thoroughly. 

What started as an investigation into government kickbacks and dubious congressional dealings rapidly evolved into something far more unsettling. Salvation Pharmaceuticals’ R&D department was embroiled in deeply questionable research, from a gas capable of erasing memories to a potent drug they called a truth serum. All of their drugs had horrible side effects, particularly the latter which worked by lowering inhibitions but also triggered something they called sexual psychosis.

Clark’s freedom of information request resulted in your current predicament. Based on the sheer number of boxes they sent it was clear the company hoped to overwhelm you with an avalanche of data and make it difficult to find what you needed. Unfortunately for them, Clark Kent was one of the most determined reporters you’d ever met. If anyone was going to get to the bottom of the story it was him. 

“Well…once more unto the breach,” you quote, holding up a fresh box of files.

As you lift the lid, Clark offers you a small smile, his cheeks dimpling. For a moment, you’re too distracted by him to notice the cloud of yellow dust rising from the box. It quickly expands, swirling into a thick mist that engulfs you both. Immediately, your lungs begin to burn, and you gasp for air. You push your chair back and struggle to stand as your vision blurs. 

A strong arm around your middle hauls you back, dragging your feet on the carpet. Clark pulls you to the edge of the room, and you lean into him, desperately trying to clear your lungs. Behind you, he grunts, his fingers twitching and spasming against your hip. It takes several moments for the air to clear, but when it does, you watch in horror as the yellow dust seems to melt into your skin.

“What was that?” You ask, voice hoarse.

Clark is silent and looks grim when you turn to face him. “I think that was the truth serum. The reports described it as yellow dust.”

You stare at him, bewildered. “Why would the dust be in there?”

“I don’t know. But I can guess.”

You rub your chest and take a hesitant step back. “I don’t feel any different. Do you?”

“No.” He presses his lips together, a muscle in his jaw twitching with tension. “Do you feel anything?”

You exhale slowly, taking stock of your body. “Maybe?” Your response is more of a question than a definitive answer. You feel oddly warm, but it could just be the adrenaline from the situation. 

“You’re sweating,” he observes, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. The warmth of his touch makes you shudder and you can’t help but notice how good he smells. “Your body temperature is elevated.”

“Huh?” You look up at him, momentarily lost in his gaze. “You’re hot, too,” you blurt out, mortified when the words leave your mouth.

“I feel fine,” Clark replies, either misunderstanding what you meant or choosing not to acknowledge the slip.

You step away from him, feeling your body buzz with embarrassment. Sweat dots your brow, and you’re halfway out of your thin cardigan before you even realize it. As you pace the room, you realize Clark might be right — the powder could be affecting you. You try to shake off the disorienting feeling that lingers, while Clark tracks your progress with sharp blue eyes.

“Should we call someone? Isn’t there a protocol for dealing with mysterious powders?” It’s difficult to think straight when your body feels like a furnace. “Clark?” You question.

His nostrils flare but otherwise, he doesn’t respond until you say his name again. “Yeah. There’s uh, an anthrax protocol. Perry’s got it in his office.”

Time seems to progress in strange lurches and lulls as you wait for Clark to return. You’re not sure how long he’s gone, each minute dragging as the heat within intensifies and your thoughts become increasingly muddled. There’s a growing pressure in your stomach too, something that radiates down. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s persistently irritating — a prickling feeling that needs to be soothed.

“I made the call,” Clark announces, reappearing. “They said it’ll be 30 minutes until they get here with everything they need. We just have to sit tight.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. If it really was the truth serum, and you’re starting to believe Clark might be right, there’s no telling what might come out of your mouth. Even now, as you pace back and forth, you feel a pressure under your tongue, as though the words are lurking just beneath the surface, eager to spring out. The last thing you want to do is reveal your stupid little crush on him.

“God, it’s hot,” you muttered, staring at the window. You press your palms to the glass. It’s cool to the touch and you lay your forehead against it, almost moaning in relief. You wish you could strip off your dress and melt into the floor. 

“Here.” Clark’s voice is closer than you expect.

You flinch at the feel of his hand on your lower back but let him turn you around to face him. He presses a glass of cool water to your lips, and you grasp his thick wrist as he urges you to drink it all, your gaze never leaving his. The moment you finish your mouth feels dry and your throat itches. 

“You have the bluest eyes,” you whisper. “You shouldn’t hide them behind your glasses.” You reach for them, but Clark stops you with a gentle hand on yours. Embarrassment rushes under your skin, and you draw back. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“It’s the drug.”

“Why aren’t you affected?” You question. “You seem fine.”

“My biology is different from yours,” he says almost absently only to freeze a second later. He presses his lips together and clenches his jaw. For the first time since you met him, Clark looks genuinely unsettled. “The reports said it affected women quicker,” he adds before stepping back.

Your hand falls limply to your side as you watch him. Clark tugs at his already loosened tie, stretching his neck with an audible crack. A dark red flush creeps up his cheeks, making the skin around his eyes glow faintly. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

“Maybe I should wait in the other room,” he grits out.

“Yeah,” you agree.

Clark barely takes a step towards the door before a sharp, unexpected wave of searing pain rips through your stomach, sending you crashing to your knees. The impact jolts your entire body, but that discomfort is overshadowed by a deep gnawing ache between your legs. You pitch forward onto all fours, struggling as your cunt flutters around nothing. 

“Oh,” you whimper, terrified as your mind recalls the adverse event report for the truth serum with perfect clarity. 

Following an increase in basal body temperature, patients exposed to the drug exhibit symptoms of full-blown sexual psychosis. This condition necessitates achieving climax to alleviate symptoms. Patients who are unable to reach climax experience a marked increase in heart rate and blood pressure, which in some cases progresses to cardiac arrest.

Every muscle in your body tenses, as a fierce, relentless pressure builds. Then, like the tide, it recedes, leaving you curled into a ball on the floor. Through half-closed eyes, you meet Clark’s gaze. He kneels in front of you and his expression mirrors your anguish.

“Clark….”

“I know,” he says quietly. His hands hover at your shoulder for a moment before he finally helps turn you on your back.

None of this feels real; it’s like a twisted wish gone wrong.

“Help me, please,” you cry, the words escaping in broken sobs. You’re too hysterical to feel ashamed about what you’re asking him to do. Details from the report keep replaying in your mind, fueling your terror. You don’t want to die.

Clark looms over you, a sheen of sweat on his brow. You stare up at him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the pain in your core pulses and builds. The ache in the body is all-consuming, overriding everything else. Worse is the feeling of emptiness that you know he could fill. 

“Please.” Your voice fizzles out as a strong wave of pain slams into you. It leaves you reeling and disoriented. You claw at his arms, fingernails digging into his skin. 

“I’m going to help you.” He says, his gaze lingering on you as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “If-if you want me to,” he adds, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up inside you. Of course you do, you’ve dreamed of him since the day you met him in the breakroom. You just never imagined this. 

When another cramp leaves you panting and desperate you grit out a pained, “Yes.”

His large hand encircles your calf, gently but firmly pulling your legs apart so he can kneel between them. The cool air makes you groan and you try to curl in on yourself again, but Clark pins you to the floor easily. With shaky hands, he drags your dress up to expose your simple black underwear. The sight seems to transfix him and you watch his chest rise and fall with quick, shallow breaths that mimic your own. 

“I have to ah, I have to…” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. When he shakes his head his glasses fall down his nose. “I need to get you ready.”

“I don’t care,” you sob. “Fuck me, please.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the part that's still you, is horrified by your words. You’ve never spoken to anyone like that, let alone a colleague or the man you have a crush on. But you know with a terrifying certainty that if he doesn’t fuck you, you’ll both die. 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, the calm tenor of his voice betrayed by the way his hand trembles against your thigh. He tears off your underwear with an ease that would give you pause if you were in your right mind.

Shame is a thing of the past as you spread your legs even further, allowing his hungry gaze to drink its fill. He parts your folds and draws two fingers through the wetness gathered there, starting with light, teasing strokes that quickly build to more. When his thumb finds your bundle of nerves, he rubs slow, soothing circles until the pain in your stomach eases a fraction. 

“You’re doing good,” he encourages, sounding breathless. “Doing so good for me, honey.”

You moan his name and he shifts closer, bent forward to watch himself work. Soon one kind of pressure recedes and another begins. You gasp, throwing your head back as Clark continues his slow assault, building in its intensity. When your legs thrash his other hand settles on your hip, holding you still as he works a thick finger inside. Your cunt clenches in response to the intrusion. Above you, he groans and his thumb moves faster. 

“More, oh god I need more,” you beg, keening when Clark pushes a second finger inside. 

The stretch of them both burns but that’s eclipsed by the pleasure you feel. You rock forward, trying to take more of him but he doesn’t let you, controlling the pace. You can hear yourself babbling, nonsensical words streaming from your mouth as he draws you closer and closer to your orgasm until, all at once, it overwhelms you completely. Your orgasm is almost painful and your hands curl into fists, your body contorting in response. The room blurs around you, and every fiber of your being is consumed by the relief you feel. 

When it passes you’re left trembling on the floor, avoiding Clark’s gaze. He hovers over you, his arousal hard to miss with the way it tents the front of his gray slacks.

“Clark.” You touch his chest, inhaling when his dark blue eyes snap up to meet yours. “Do you…” 

You can’t even force yourself to say it now that you’re back in your right mind. Clark shakes his head, withdrawing his fingers. You wince, and he looks pained. 

“We should —” he starts, but whatever he is about to say is abruptly cut off as he grunts and hunches forward, a visible shudder running through him. 

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his face. When your fingers brush over the curve of his cheek he moans and surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals your breath. He forces his tongue inside and the heat of him is almost unbearable. You push at his shoulder, but he doesn’t relent. His hands travel up and down your sides and you feel that familiar pressure return to your core. It builds slowly, like the spark of an ember that will soon flare into a blazing fire. 

You shift under Clark, drawing your legs up as he swallows down your needy whine. By the time he pulls away, you’re feeling dizzy and gasping for breath.

“We need to,” you begin, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles.

“I know,” Clark replies.

He fumbles with his pants and you look up at the ceiling as he pulls himself free. It feels like a violation to look, but without your permission, you find your gaze drifting down. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of his cock, just as big and thick as the rest of him. It’s red and weeping. Your cunt aches, and you toss your head side to side, trying to dispel the pain. 

Clark plants a hand near your head while he lines himself up between your thighs. He pushes inside slowly. It hurts, god, it hurts, but you need more of him, and you need it now. Wrapping his tie around your hand, you pull hard, urging him closer. He snaps his hip forward with enough force to jar your bones, and you wail in response. For one blissful moment, everything is quiet. Your buzzing mind and aching body are finally filled in a way they’ve been craving.

“Fuck.” The curse falls from Clark’s lips and brings you back to the moment. “You feel so good. You feel…” he trails off, his words bleed into one long, low moan that has you clenching around him. 

Above you, his handsome face contorts, his lips pressed tightly together. Tension lines the muscles of his jaw and his dark brows furrow in an expression that teeters between ecstasy and pain. Pleasure skitters along your nerves as he drives into you over and over again to reach some unknown place hidden deep inside. Your second orgasm rises to the surface just as swiftly as your first and Clark is relentless as he fucks you through it. 

There isn’t even time to catch your breath before his hands encircle your hips and he leans back, drawing you with him. The backs of your thighs drag over the fabric of his slack as he moves your body to meet his thrusts. As one orgasm fades you feel another spring to life, hastened by the feel of his calloused thumb on your clit. The need inside you burns even brighter, and a litany of desperate pleas spills from your lips. 

“You feel,” he pants, “just like I imagined.”

When you gasp his name he curls his body over yours, the new angle allowing him to move even deeper. You hold onto his biceps and listen to the desperate little noises that escape his chest with each thrust. His lips find the soft skin of your throat as his fingers dig into the neckline of your dress. He pulls hard and buttons scatter, giving him access to your shoulder. Teeth scrap over tender flesh and your back arches as another orgasm blooms in your stomach.

Waves of pleasure ebb through your body and your fingers tangle in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. Clark doesn’t falter even when you fall still beneath him. Your muscles ache, and your body feels tense and exhausted, but that frenzied need that’s driven you since the dust melted into your system slakes away until you’re left feeling everything. Guilt and horror fill your body like sand, weighing you down. 

Clark groans and you realize he’s still in the throes of the drug's effects. The ceaseless rhythm of his hips has turned painful and your insides feel raw. You push at his shoulder but he doesn’t even seem to notice, hitching your leg over his waist to push himself deeper. 

He shudders, gasping, “like that, just like that.” Then his teeth sink into your neck and he finally stills. 

Tears leak from the corner of your eyes as your breath comes in short little sobs, your heart fluttering in your chest. After a few moments, Clark stiffens and you know he’s come back to himself. He shifts, slipping out of you with a quiet exhale. You can’t stifle your whimper of pain and his gaze jumps to you. For a moment you stare at each other and the silence is deafening. Then he passes a trembling hand over his lips and rocks back, moving to his feet in a fluid motion. He turns from you to tuck himself away and runs a hand through his curls. 

You sit up slowly, drawing your knees to your chest while you hold the fabric of your dress together in an attempt to give yourself some dignity. It’s almost laughable after what just happened. Clark says your name and you stare at his outstretched hand. After a moment of hesitation, you take it and he pulls you to your feet. When he drops his jacket over your shoulders you feel a swell of gratitude. You let him guide you to a chair, wincing when you sit. Everything feels raw and tender. 

He clears his throat. “The response team is downstairs.”

“Okay,” you say numbly. 

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whispers. 

You want to tell him it’s okay, that it’s not his fault, but the words catch in your throat. All you get out is his name. Nothing about this is okay. How could it be? 

You wait together, Clark standing half a step ahead of you while you stare at his broad shoulders, lost in thought. He’s the one to greet the men and women in hazmat suits. You don’t catch everything he says, but his eyes drift back to you as he speaks. Before long, you’re separated, and the last image you hold onto is his hair tousled from your fingers and his wrinkled, untucked shirt.

From there, everything becomes a blur; moments merge into a disjointed sequence — being herded into a decontamination shower, the uncomfortable scratch of paper scrubs against your sensitive skin, a distressing medical exam, and then the questions. Endless questions bring back the haze of disjointed memories you’re struggling to process.

By the time you’re allowed to leave, the first rays of light filter through the windows of the bullpen. You watch the soft golden glow and listen to the faint chirping of birds. The city is waking up, bustling to life as it always does, but you feel disconnected from it all until you step into the elevator and turn to find Clark standing there.

He halts the doors from closing, his sad, mournful eyes meeting yours. A powerful wave of emotion rises in your throat as the weight of his guilt and your embarrassment settles inside you like a stone. There’s so much you want to say, so much that needs to be said, but it’s overshadowed by a deep ache in your chest. You feel so lost and unsure, terrified about what lies ahead that tears spill from your eyes, hot and unchecked. 

Clark exhales softly and steps back, but just before the doors close, he whispers your name. In that moment, everything else fades away — it’s just you, him, and all the unspoken words that linger between you.

Then, he’s gone and you’re left utterly alone. 

♡

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[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 42-59.5 Home Date or Bed Date (Nayeon)

After sending out Mina, you finally have the time to get back to your actual work after these 2 insane days. Time flies when you are focusing on work, it is already night now. You pack your belongings and then leave the office.

It's Friday today, so you have a longer time to rest tonight, you are thinking you should visit your family or date with your girlfriend tonight while you are driving home.

I decide to spend sometime with my girlfriend. Maybe an at home date were we cook something and watch a movie.

As it's Friday, you have decided to date your girlfriend tonight, so you try to call her.

She tells you she is ready to leave her office, so you are going to pick her up, and go to your home.

You have dated your girlfriend Nayeon for a couple of years since you were in college. However, as she is working on the other side of the city, so she is not living with you, instead she share a flat with some of her colleagues.

You really miss her, so you just drive there as soon as possible.

Once you arrive, she is rushing to you to get a hug.

'Y/N, I miss you so much, do you miss me too?'

"Of course, I miss you. I want to be with you every day." I give her a kiss, and tell ask her what she wants to do for our date. If she doesn't have an idea I suggest we go back to my place and I cook her something.

You kiss her forehead and hug her back, 'Of coz I miss you, Nabong, I can't even sleep well without you.'

Nayeon smirks and said she was a bit tired and want to spend the night for a home date.

You two then buy some ingredients at the supermarket before back to your home.

As she is tired, you tell her to go to a bath first and you would cook her dinner.

I'll cook her favorite meal as she takes a bath.

In the downtime, I have between cooking. I'll run over to turn on the Television to get a movie ready.

You send Nayeon into the bathroom, and you start preparing dinner, cooking steak and making the salad, pouring wine, in the meantime time, you set up the table and light up the candle, trying to get the dinner more romantic.

After everything is settled, you sit on sofa and turn on the TV, looking for some movie that you two can watch.

You then tell Nayeon the dinner's ready, and ask is she ok cause she take the bath a bit longer than usual.

Nayeon come out with her pajamas and then you two finally start the dinner with the wine, Nayeon seems not too happy, you are curious and ask her why.

'I didn't lock the door, babe.'

It takes me a second before I realize what she means, I go and hug her before whispering "we have all night my love, we can take things slow" I'll lead her to the food I made.

You two then enjoy the dinner through the night, while talking about how it's going when you are separated.

Nayeon is a bit drunk after dinner, but she still wants to spend some time with you before she falls asleep, so you hold her to the sofa and watch the movie together.

You didn't realize Nayeon has fall asleep during the movie, she sleeps when she cuddling you and have a smile on her face.

I gently lift her and carry her to my bed. I'll get behind her and hug her being the bid spoon as I fall asleep.

The sleeping is too good which you two sleep until noon, you wake up first, and Nayeon awake so when you try to pull out your arm.

'Sorry that I woke you up baby.'

'Never mind baby, we have wasted a night already, perhaps it's the time now.'

Nayeon kisses you while searching your morning boner in your pants.

I'll kiss her back while one of my hands goes underneath her pajama pants and the other starts to play with her tit through her clothes.

You two are kissing and fingering each other inside the pants, she grabs your hand and put it inside her pajamas so you can play her tits directly.

You two keep making out passionately like the end of the world, she rides on you as you two remove your clothes, she sucks on your nipple and keeps stroking your shaft with your pre-cum as lubricant. The sensation makes you shiver, and you start moaning.

I just tell her enough with foreplay, and align myself with her pussy before pulling her down. I continue kissing her as I thrust.

It's time for the main course, you tell Nayeon you are ready and you kiss her, you align your shaft with her pussy and thrust up before she can react. Nayeon's pussy is already familiar with the size of your shaft, so she takes no time to adjust herself, knowing she has been waiting for a whole week, you thrust to the deepest every time, hope to make she cums as soon as possible.

You pull her head down for kiss as you keep fucking her, you can still hear her moan although you two are kissing. Soon she pushes your head away and start riding you more quickly, you can feel her walls become tighter.

'Faster babe, ahh, I am ahh, nearly cumming, ahh, make me ahh, cum!'

I hold onto her hips and when I feel that she's about to cum, I slam her down on my cock and fill her with cum.

'Yeah Nabong, I'm cumming too, let's cum together' Feeling her walls becoming even tighter, you de no resist the pleasure as you want to cum with her, with three more thrusts, your push into the deepest and slam her down when your cock is releasing your seed.

You keep thrusting until all your release all your seed, Nayeon's hand also massaging your ball. You two enjoying the aftertaste of the orgasm as she is laying on your chest.

I kiss her forehead and ask if she enjoyed herself, already knowing the answer.

You two are sharing some sweet time after the sex, with Nayeon laying on your chest, but suddenly you feel Nayeon is adjusting her body, you thought she was finding a better position to cuddle, but you soon realize what is happening when she is playing your dick.

'Come on Nabong, I suppose we are going to have sweet time?'

'Isn't it a sweet time? Nayeon smirks and turn her head down to you lower half.

I smile at her and start to play with her tits in response. "If you want a really sweet time, then how about we go again?"

'Let's go for another round babe, I want you to eat me out.' Nayeon said while sits on your face and start sucking you.

You two are now in a 69 position and you start licking her cunt, her moan makes vibrations in her mouth, which make much pleasure to you, so you lick her more fiercely, and try to put your finger in her ass. She starts to shake when you enter her, you can feel her mouth getting tighter.

I decide to have some fun and add another finger in her as while at the same time speeding up my fingers.

You found that every time you push in your finger, Nayeon's mouth is becoming tighter, so you put one more finger in and speed up, you also put your tongue in her pussy.

Nayeon is so hyper, that she keeps moaning, however as she is sucking your cock, she has nowhere else to release her pleasure, she just suck you harder.

This becomes a cycle, each time you go in faster, she sucks your dick harder, and you feel your dick start twisting. 'Shit, Nayeon you have such a good mouth, I'm going to cum.'

I'll start rubbing her clit with my other hand as well as inserting a third finger in an attempt to make us cum at the same time.

You increase your intensity hope to bring Nayeon cums at the same time with you. However, her mouth is too good to resist, you did not make it.

'OH, Nayeon, shit, I 'm cumming, I 'm cumming, take it all' You thrust your hips up wanting to get deeper in her mouths while you keep shooting your cums into her mouth.

This is the most pleasant orgasm you have for a long time, the amount you cum even more than your first cum, Nayeon cannot hold onto it, and some of the semen are leaking out from her mouth and even nose.

I'll keep eating out Nayeon and fingering her asshole that way she gets to cum too.

You keep the intensity of your fingers while Nayeon is milking you. Nayeon finally cums and splash her cum on your face. Nayeon lay down in your chest once again to get some rest while still playing your cum.

'You cum so much babe, much more than the first round, you like my mouth more than my pussy huh?'

I tease her by asking if she likes it in her ass more than her pussy. I follow that up by telling her that I just enjoy being her.

'With that much cum in my pussy, we would definitely get a baby, it's wasted in my mouth.' Nayeon answers seductively.

'But I am hungry now, babe.'

I focus on Nayeon's first comment. Cupping her cheek I ask her if she wants a baby.

You are turned on by Nayeon's comment on having a baby, your shaft immediately harden. Nayeon giggles when she feel your dick is pointing her thigh.

'Turned on by imagining pumping a baby inside me, huh you horny boy.' She grabs your shaft and starts stroking again.

You cup her cheek and ask her would she like to have a baby with you seriously. She turns around her face to focus on stroking you instead of giving you answer.

I'll bring her face back up and kiss her saying I'd love to give her a baby

You kiss Nayeon and tell her again you really want to have a baby with her, She answers you 'Why don't we enjoy this moment instead?' and returns to your kiss while hitting the sensitive spot on your dick with her hand.

The sensation makes you addicted, you forgot what you wanna say and start moaning again.

I roll over her and get ready to fuck her again. Playing her modest tits while I do so.

You roll her over and align with her pussy, then you thrust in. You even don't want to tease it with her cunt as you just want to solve your pain in the boner by putting it in. You keep thrusting her and grabbing her tits. Her leg is crossing on your waist, demanding you to go deeper.

I kiss her and tell her I love her as I push deeper into her pussy.

She replies to your kiss passionately and says she love you too. She move your hips to fit your rhythm to give you a better sensation, soon Nayeon cums and you reach your orgasm in her tightened walls when moaning her name.

When you finish your orgasm and try to pull out, her legs cramp your waist not allowing you to let go. 'Don't pull out yet, I wanna feel you a bit longer.' So you just stay in the position and hug her.

When She recovers, she starts to tease you again, and you reply passionately. You two just keep having sex for the weekend. Eat, Sex and Sleep is the only routine, and you even can't remember how many times you have cummed in her.

As the weekend finished, I was a little sad that Nayeon had to go. I gave her a hug and prepared for another week at work.

When you two wake up again is already Sunday night, it's time for Nayeon to go, You bring her to dinner and then drive her back to her home.

'I can just barely walk, honey.'

'Yeah, someone just keep telling me harder yesterday.'

Nayeon blushes and hits you lightly. 'Don't find other girls when I am not here babe, and clean the bathroom so we can take a bath together next week.'

'You already drained me Nayeon, I would only cum for you.'

Nayeon gives you a goodbye kiss and then strugglely walk away. Seeing she enters the apartment, you turn away to back home, getting ready for the new week.

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 3

Masterlist

Ch. 1, Ch. 2

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: flirting, anxiety, insecurity, drunk background characters, canon-typical violence, communication issues, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

In theory, it's been a good day.

At the very least, it’s a lot less terrifying than Logan had built it up in his mind to be. Wade never really let him in on what his plans were, so he’s just along for the ride as they travel across the sprawl of the city. Interestingly, he notices that Wade keeps their hands linked as they wait for the next bus – not an unpleasant experience by any means, but something they’ve never really done before. Though each of them often remains close enough to crawl inside the other when within the privacy of the apartment, PDA isn’t something they’ve ever really done.

For Logan, general proximity has always been enough. Knowing where Wade is, having his heartbeat and scent to go off of. An occasional brush of fingers isn’t unusual, a playful hip knock. Being more visible as a couple out in the public eye is new, and Logan wonders if it has anything to do with Wade’s insistence on going out looking…well. The way that he currently does.

His gut is telling him yes.

But Wade’s humming contentedly to himself as they’re squished into a seat, shoulder to shoulder. His mind can’t help repeating back to him how much going out like this seems to mean to Wade, and Wade has somehow come to mean a hell of a lot to him. So he keeps his mouth shut and explores the hand-in-hand situation, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the skin of Wade’s palm. Turns out, the man’s got a whole itinerary for the day. Which makes sense, considering it’s Wade. Logan can’t imagine him taking them out for lunch and then going right back to the apartment after all the fuss he’s already kicked up.

“So,” Wade starts, in a tone that Logan’s grown fond of. “I was thinking we’d start with lunch – I don’t know about you, but I worked up an appetite from this morning –”

Logan promptly elbows him in the ribs.

“Wade –”

There’s a pint sized kid in the aisle across, staring at them with curious blue eyes. Wade turns to see what he’s looking at, then shrugs.

“Okay, slow down, Mr. Pervert. You think I’m handing out details of my personal life for free? And to minors, no less? If they want that sort of information they can lie about their age, like the rest of us did when the internet was the wild west of all things freaky.”

He looks over at something Logan can’t see. “And like some of them still are. Don’t think I don’t fucking see you.”

“See what?”

“Nothing, kitty cat. Anyway,” Wade continues, excited.

Logan listens patiently as he’s given every last detail of what they’re going to do and where they’re going to go. Does it sound like a lot of interaction with the general populace he wouldn’t normally seek out? Yeah. But does it also seem like Wade put a ton of effort into making sure it’d be a combination of things they’d both enjoy? Also yes.

“Sounds nice,” Logan tells him when he’s through explaining, and Wade gives him a tentative smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He puts an arm around Wade’s shoulders, and it doesn’t take heightened senses to catch the obvious delight emanating from him at the new contact.

So they meander through the massive sprawl of the city, venturing to places Logan’s never had a reason to go. If he’s being honest with himself, his circles are pitifully small. He likes to stay within certain neighborhoods if he can help it, places he already knows, close to home. The only time he really strayed from that trend was when he was trying to figure out what home was. Once he has a routine, he likes to keep to it.

Wade tends to veer toward the opposite. He likes a little spontaneity – hell, impulse may as well be his middle name. Logan’s not surprised when they go off path from one part of the day to something unexpected that catches Wade’s attention. He’s known him long enough to just accept that that’ll happen sometimes, doesn’t mind it.

It’s actually nice to be somewhere he’s not used to. Logan didn’t realize that he’d been growing a little restless himself until given the opportunity to see something outside of the daily to and fro, as comforting as that had become. The cheerful spring weather holds as Wade takes him to walk through some of the biggest trees Logan’s ever seen in his life, and later still as they weave their way through a public market.

They’ve been walking all day by the time Wade points them in the direction of their final destination, but Logan doesn’t feel (that) overwhelmed or at all bored. It’s…it’s nice. Seeing more of the city was probably good for him.

Dusk brushes across the sky, tentative. They walk together down the sidewalk, sometimes dodging to the side for a passing crowd. There’s more going on here in terms of entertainment than where they’re living – probably why he’s never been out this way.

Logan can’t help but take an occasional glance at Wade. The makeup’s become smudged throughout the day, and it’s a relief to see the actual Wade beginning to poke through a bit.

“I’m still waiting for it,” Wade says, looking at Logan wryly.

That makes him nervous. “Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for you to say, ‘huh, jeez, Wade, guess living here doesn’t suck the absolute balls that I always say it does.’”

He rolls his eyes. “Those the exact words you think would come out of my mouth?”

Wade nods, his expression solemn. “Verbatim. You’ve picked up some very unbecoming slang from hanging around Al so much, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“More like from hanging around you.”

“See, this is what I’m talking about!” Wade brings them to a stop. “The Logan that I dragged home would have just growled all sexy for the camera and stabbed me somewhere. He didn't banter like this.”

“Sooo…you’re saying you’re a bad influence.” He smirks.

They’re right outside the bar Wade wanted to poke his head into – some little hole in the wall joint Ellie, Laura, and Yukio won’t stop talking up called The Spork. Even from outside, Logan can hear and feel the pulse of the music. He can already tell that it’s going to be zero percent like the bars he’s frequented in the past. That’s probably for the best.

“Well, you did take off your chastity ring for me, didn’t you, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower on sweetheart, eyes roaming Logan’s chest through the strain of his shirt.

Fuck, he’s seriously starting to regret not taking Wade up on his offer this morning. They could have gone another round in under thirty minutes, right? (Wrong.) Logan can feel his cock stirring with interest, and though the street is growing dark now, it’s not something he wants to advertise.

“We goin’ in or not?” he mutters instead, fully aware that he’s lost the ability to quip back.

Sure, yeah, maybe he’s gotten better at keeping up, as Wade had said. But there’s no topping him when it comes to having a smart fucking mouth. He’s half-convinced Wade could just talk him to orgasm – and he wonders if it’s something they’ll ever try.

Wade chuckles a little at him.

“Don’t have to,” he says. “I know those dad shoes have seen more traction in the past eight hours than they’ve probably gotten in the last six months, so if you want to head home, we’ll head home.”

Again with this shit! Between him and Laura he’s never going to get away with any choice of footwear without getting roasted like he’s standing on the fucking sun.

“They’re literally just –”

“White New Balance, baby, I know.” Wade’s still grinning a little. “After you.”

He holds the door, and it only takes seconds for the two of them to become engulfed in sound. The bar is crowded with people he’d guess are probably around Laura’s age, a flurry of bright hair colors and crop tops, makeup on every kind of face. Queer couples whisper and laugh with each other, nursing drinks. Groups of friends pose for pictures. Lights dance from the ceiling, and the speakers are blasting a voice he’s become all too familiar with as Laura’s started turning the album on every time she’s in his car.

You know what they say – never waste a Friday night on a first date.

But there I was, in my heels with my hair straight, Logan finishes in his head, led by Wade to the bar by their connected hands.

“Be right back,” Wade says near his ear, careful not to yell. “You getting anything?”

Logan shakes his head. “Not if we’re just in and out.”

“Gotcha.”

He watches as Wade melts away into the crowd, side-stepping and inching through far more gracefully than Logan could until he slips into the restroom.

It’s easy to see why The Girls – as Ellie, Yukio, and Laura have come to be known in his mind – like it here. Inclusivity comes easier in cities, he knows that. But it’s still not perfect. Even harder when you have supernatural abilities you never asked for on top of it all.

Logan wonders if there are any more mutants in the crowd tonight.

Wade is taking a very long time. Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, Logan glances back to where he’d last seen him. Is he being too paranoid? Should he just wait and give it another minute? Fuck. He wished his brain wouldn’t turn everything into a disaster. It occurs to him that the bar is getting louder and louder and he can smell so much sweat and cigarette smoke and weed in here.

No, actually, fuck it, he’s going. There’s no harm in just walking in and seeing if he’s alright.

Anxiety spiral! Jess says cheerfully in the back of his head. He ignores her.

With one hand placed on the bathroom door, he’s just in time to almost fully collide with the man he’s looking for.

“Shit,” they say at the same time, getting out of one another’s way.

“No, it’s fine,” Logan says first, squinting as a flash of light from the overhead rig shines in his face. “You okay, bub?”

Sometimes eating genuinely does make Wade sick. Logan doesn’t know if it’s the cancer or a side effect of how his regenerative ability works for him, but there are days when food just doesn’t do it for him. Usually they can both tell when that’s going to happen, though. They’ll hole up in the apartment, turn on some good movies, and just be together while Logan rubs Wade’s back all day. He’s happy to do it for him; he’s prepared to take him straight home and do it now.

But Wade doesn’t smell sick.

When Logan blinks the last of the light away, he’s left looking at Wade, who is definitely not looking at him. In fact, he’s staring at his shoes, looking like he wants to crawl through the floor.

His face is clean, all the carefully applied makeup scrubbed away.

Logan opens his mouth to say something like okay, I’m glad you took that off, I like your actual face, but Wade beats him to the punch.

“Sorry,” Wade says softly. “It was getting all smudged, and…sorry.”

Tears gather hot and burning in the back of Logan’s throat. Out of nowhere, he’s furious, fucking outraged that Wade could feel this way about himself when it’s so clearly untrue. It’s the kind of emotion that he’s not sure he can shove down or redirect this time. Part of him knows that if Wade sees the look on his face, he’s going to read it the wrong way. And he needs to get out of this bar, right now.

He's like a string pulled too tight. Even the pressure of a breath could make him snap.

“Can we please leave.”

That’s all he can make himself say, the words coming out all taut and emotionless. It makes him feel like shit, but that’s all he can manage to get out.

Wade nods, and Logan offers his hand once more. A meager consolation prize compared to what he actually wants to tell him. Logan hates how lacking his brain-to-mouth output is. Whatever he ends up saying always sounds so inarticulate. Right now he’s staring at Wade’s profile in the gentle pulsing of the colored lights, thinking a million things. All of them thrum within him harder than his own heartbeat.

I love you.

You’re beautiful.

I hate that you thought you had to change for me.

I would kill for you.

I would live for you.

Ten feet until they’re outside – he can do that. Then he can fix this.

Logan’s eyes are fixed on the door, on the cool air drafting in as it opens and closes, when he’s shoved hard from the right.

“My bad,” says a voice at once. “Shit, my bad man, my bad.”

Logan grits his teeth so tight he feels one of them crack. He swallows the loose piece.

“Don’t worry about it.” Shut the fuck up and let me leave.

The man who bumped into him is so obviously wasted that he might as well be wearing a flashing neon sign. He sways a little on his feet, supported only by the sweet-looking woman he keeps bumping back into, as if she's the only thing keeping him upright. Brawny and dressed like he's just walked straight from his fraternity house, he squints at Logan and Wade like he's seeing double. Shit, maybe triple, at this point.

“Jake, maybe you need to sit down,” the woman says to him softly.

Her face is flushed, more from embarrassment than alcohol. She's staring up at the guy, one small hand on his arm, but Jake is looking at the two of them like he's never seen gays over thirty before. Hell, like he’s never seen a queer in general, which is astounding, considering the bar he’s currently standing in.

Logan can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. It’s a rare occasion when someone who’s looked at him like that didn’t end up pissing him off, and he’s already one step away from wanting a good excuse to tear into someone. Anyone.

“C'mon, just sit down with us, I'll get you some water.”

The guy isn't interested. He's too busy looking at Wade now, and Logan can see the thought forming on his face before he dares to speak it.

“Jesus, man, you're kinda ugly, did you know that?”

To Wade's credit, he says fucking excuse me? at the same time Logan's fingers close around the asshole’s throat.

For someone who'd been wobbling around only seconds before, Jake tries to pry them off with surprising accuracy. It only makes him squeeze tighter, watching with brutal satisfaction as his face turns darker shades of red.

That’s better. This, he can understand. For Logan, actions are almost always easier than words, especially when tinted with violence. Especially if he’s needed it for weeks now.

In his periphery, he can tell that several things are going on. The college girl is touching his elbow, asking him to stop, something like I’m so sorry please let him go I know he’s had way too much. Wade is standing back a ways, hands in his pockets, grinning more broadly than Logan’s seen all day. A small crowd is starting to gather.

Their faces are only inches apart. He knows he should walk away, just take Wade and go home.

Somewhere behind him, Wade is having the time of his life calling this frat boy a piece of shit. Logan can’t even keep up with half of what’s coming out of his mouth, but he hears something about getting his haircut off of a middle schooler’s Tiktok FYP but having his dad’s mental health issues, and those both seem like pretty deep cuts. He doesn’t fail to mention, of course, that Logan’s about to turn him into the wet food that they make for cats.

“C’mon, fuckface,” Jake wheezes, trying and failing once more to loosen his grip. “You mad your boyfriend ain’t pretty or–”

That’s all it takes. Logan curls his free hand into a fist and punches the other man so hard his nose breaks with a tidy snap. Blood pours out of him like a busted faucet as he punches him twice, three times, and in seconds he’s howling and pleading for him to stop – he didn’t mean it, he promises he didn’t mean it.

If it were up to Logan, he’d stay there and beat him until the fucking punk was barely capable of stringing a sentence together, then make him say thank you for letting him live. As the situation stands, however, several people are definitely calling the police – and that’s not something Logan has the patience for.

“Hey, Testosterone Tommy, we gotta go,” Wade calls, reading his mind.

Without another word, Logan turns his back to the mess he’s made, and they make short work of disappearing into the street.

By the time they’ve ducked through enough alleys and carved a confusing enough path that they don’t think they’re in danger of being pursued, Wade lets out a breath.

“Thanks for uh, defending my honor back there, peanut.”

Logan shrugs, still tense from the weight of the conversation he knows they need to have.

“It was nothin’. He needed to shut the fuck up. I was happy to provide the service.” He looks over at Wade in the soft light of a street lamp, who chuckles a little at that. “And I knew you woulda hit him yourself if I didn’t get there first,” he adds.

Wade's answering silence makes him wonder if he would have just taken the insult and kept walking, or turned it into a joke even if it made him feel like shit.

When they arrive back at the apartment, Laura opens the door, a wriggling Puppins in her arms, and scrunches her nose at the sight of Logan.

“Thought it was a date, the hell?” she says. “You’ve got blood on you.”

“Don’t all your dates end in bloodshed?” Wade says, shrugging. He turns to let the dog inspect his face with her mouth, which she does with excruciating enthusiasm. “Hi Puppins! Hi baby!! Did you miss us? You did! Anyway, we can’t go to your bar anymore.”

Laura doesn’t look that surprised. “What did you do?”

“Logan tried to kill a guy ‘cause he called me ugly.”

“I did not try to kill him,” Logan growls, passing Laura her phone as she goes to collect her things. “I just shook him up a little.”

“In a very heroic, brash, and manly way,” Wade sings, putting an arm around his waist. “The other guy really did gush, Laura, you would’ve loved it.”

She only shakes her head and sighs. “If you say so. I gotta get home, I work at six tomorrow.”

“Thanks for dogsitting! And catsitting, too, I guess.”

“Haha, I didn’t even see him.”

Logan walks her to the door while Wade wanders deeper into the bedroom. Every time Wade tells him stories about the Other Logan, and this Laura, he tries to imagine if he can feel that connection. It’s not the same as what he feels for her now – not as massive and deep as that love had to have been – but he still cares for her. He wants to see her do well. Growing up the way she had wasn’t easy, he knows that much. And she’s a good kid. Logan knows she’s trying to do her best – even if she sometimes gets into scraps of her own.

“Thanks, kid,” Logan says as they hover in the doorway. “Have a good shift, yeah? Try to behave yourself.” From the stories he’s heard from her working as a lead at a grocery store, people aren’t always the kindest.

“Could say the same to you,” she fires back, smiling before she turns down the hallway.

He watches until she’s gone before shutting their door and locking it. When he turns, Bonnet is staring at him from the little nook under the far left kitchen cabinet, his favorite place to hide.

“Hey, buddy,” Logan calls softly, bending down. Bonnet comes to him at once, tail lifted. “What'd you do today, huh?”

The massive tabby answers him with a quiet mrow, butting his head against Logan's hand. They stay like that for a moment, each of them comforted by the other.

When Logan makes his way to the bedroom, he finds Wade already in pajamas, scrolling on his phone. Wade glances up at him with a soft smile, watching him unbutton his shirt and toss it into the hamper.

“So…overall, was it an okay day?” he asks as Logan shuffles into bed beside him in only his boxers, landing with a heavy sigh. “Worth repeating, sans the whole dramatic knockout bit towards the end?”

His hand is already carding through Logan’s hair. Wade shuffles closer to let Logan sling a leg over his hip the way he wants to, recharging after a long day of being on the go.

“‘Course,” Logan mutters. The gentle way Wade’s touching him makes his whole body go limp and relaxed almost at once. He didn’t realize how much the day had weighed on him until he felt that weight lifting. “‘Course I’d go out with you again. Didn’t really know it was that important or we coulda – coulda gone a lot sooner.”

He feels Wade shrug. “Well, it took me a minute to learn how to get all the stuff right, otherwise I might have –”

Logan sits straight up in a way that makes the bed jolt. He looks Wade right in the eye, taking in the surprise, taking in every inch of his face, aching that Wade doesn’t think he’s good enough to go out without slathering shit on.

“Wade. For once in your life, shut the fuck up and let me say something. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re kind of leaving me no choice, but okay.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, Logan pauses to think. Everything he’s itching to say will come out angry, or make him want to cry. He doesn’t want either of those options to happen – he wishes he could just fucking say hard things without it being like this. Like his heart’s going to explode out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he says, dragging his hands across his face. “Fuck, Wade.”

“What?” He feels a hand on the side of his neck, feels Wade’s heartbeat pick up. Nervous. “Peanut, what’s the matter?”

“I didn’t want – I didn’t ask you – it wasn’t – you’re not – fuck.”

He can’t breathe. Wade notices.

“Just take a minute. I’m not going anywhere.”

Feeling very small and stupid and embarrassed the entire time, Logan closes his eyes and does as Wade asks. Forcing himself to breathe in and out until his chest doesn’t feel like it’s caved in on itself. Hating that this is so fucking hard. Other people don’t have to do this. Why is he like this?

Finally, he finds his voice again.

“Wish you didn’t go out looking like that,” he admits at last. “You didn’t need to do that for me. I didn’t want it, Wade. Wanted you.”

Logan peers up at Wade, who has a small, bitter sort of smile on his face. It’s probably one of the farthest things he’s seen from his genuine grin in some time.

“As the Irish forest man himself would say, you’re too sweet for me,” he says. “But you’re used to me, bud. You don’t get it.”

Exasperation roars like fire in Logan’s mind. “What the hell don’t I get? Wade. I’ve been lookin’ at you for a year now. I like it. Haven’t I made that clear enough?”

There are fucking tears in Wade’s eyes, though he blinks them back fast, and Logan’s own throat burns in instant empathy.

“I said, you don’t get it,” he says again. “You didn’t know me before. You didn’t see what I looked like then. And if you had, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be sticking around now.”

They’re both bolt upright in the bed now, tense, facing each other. Logan can’t tell whether he’s more angry or hurt that Wade would still cling so tightly to thinking about himself like this, but whatever held him back from speaking before is long gone now. It’s time to be mad.

“News flash, jackass,” he barks. “I did see you. And yeah, maybe you were cute, but you weren’t all that. So pull yourself out of this fuckin’ –” he throws his hands up “-- hole of self pity. I love you the way you are right now, not some fake version you feel like you have to slap on.”

Wade stares at him.

He can only hold the tough act for a half second before he wonders if he’s gone too far. Because getting Wade Wilson speechless? That is a rarity, and a cause for concern.

“Sorry,” Logan says lamely, after another long beat. “If that was too much, then sorry, I just don’t want you to think you’re not good enough to –”

“You mean it?” Wade says, his voice small. “The – the love thing.”

Oh. Oh shit. He’d fully said that.

“Yeah,” Logan answers, laughing a little. “Yeah, I do.”

And fuck, he does. There’s no use pretending it’s not true anymore. He loves the stupid little songs he sings in the morning and the way he hums when he’s sleepy and how much he loves the dog. He loves how much he cares about the people in his life. He loves how fucking smart he is and how he can crack a joke with absolutely no effort. He loves his weird taste in music and how he looks in his clothes.

He loves.

He loves.

He loves.

“I really do,” Logan tells him, cupping Wade’s cheek, pulling him in to kiss him. The way Wade kisses him back is so soft, and he’s laughing too, a breathless little sound against Logan’s mouth. He climbs into his lap and wraps his arms tight around him, and they stay like that for a long time, rocking back and forth, close, warm.

“Sorry it took so long,” Logan tells him after a while. The fact that Wade had said it first, and so much earlier, still fills him with guilt.

“S’okay,” Wade answers. “It was worth it.” He places more kisses to Logan’s forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks. “So…can I fuck you to celebrate this little revelation? Like, a lot?”

“Yeah, please.”

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 17

Summary: You and Jamil lay in his bed in his dorm room. While you’re very tired, you’re visibly not bothered by the social implications of being in the bed of another. Jamil, on the other hand, is a little too aware.

(I saw the birthday card and went “eh, why not?” and wrote this.)

Was this something common in your world? Where, out of nowhere, people will just casually ask their friends if they can sleep with them in their bed? Because that’s what you did to Jamil. You approached him, luckily out of earshot from anyone important, and asked that very question with zero shame.

“Hey Jamil? Mind if I sleep with you in your bed tonight?”

Jamil will admit, it took him a good five seconds for him to register the words. And, he will also admit that he banged his knee against the table he was cleaning. Hit it so hard actually that he curled up into a ball, and practically retreated into his hoodie because why would you ask that?! In broad daylight?!

But you know what’s the worst part about all this? Jamil actually got excited. Giddy even! When the hot flush flooding through his body finally settled, all that was left was this glowing feeling.

At the time, he thought that his charms have finally got to you. That all his efforts to be in your good graces have begun to bear fruit.

And so he said, “You know what? Yes, let’s do that. Setting aside the way you asked that, I think I can find it in my heart to forgive that.”

Past him’s an idiot. For all those times he thought himself above the hormonal college students, turns out Jamil was no better. He supposed it was only a matter of time before he was humbled.

And so here Jamil lays on his side of the bed, dressed in his best pajamas, surrounded by the best sheets and pillows he uses for special occasions, and you laying on your stomach, reading the next chapter for one of your classes.

You came in with a tired wave, bag at hand, and flopped over in his bed. And you’ve been in that pose since.

“So, this was what you meant.” Jamil said. Now that his judgment is clear again after an hour of doing nothing, he really should’ve known you didn’t mean anything special by what you asked. Shame on him for expecting an extra meaning to them.

“Hmm? Oh, was the way I asked weird?” You glanced towards him. Jamil recognizes that exhausted look weighing in your eyes. Perhaps, through the rose-tinted glasses, Jamil didn’t notice. Once again, shame on him. Jamil should suffocate himself with these pillows. “Sorry about that. I just really want one good night of sleep. Just one.”

The urge to hit himself with the pillows lessened. Jamil moved onto his stomach, and copied your position, propping his chin on the pile. “Is there something wrong with your bed?”

You put your phone down. “Weather’s getting hotter and I still don’t have a working air con. It gets so humid at night that I sweat through the night. Can barely get more than three hours of sleep at a time.”

…of course the headmage would neglect to give you something as simple as a stable heating and cooling. Leave it to him to ignore your problems while he goes off doing whatever else. Probably binge watching an old drama that’s not even any good.

“I can’t imagine it’s been easy to deal with. Though, I have to ask, why my bed? You have others that you’re closer to, don’t you?”

Others such as Ace and Deuce, but Jamil didn’t want to say their names. It’s childish but he doesn’t want to see if your eyes light up at their mere mention.

You stretched your spine and settled down. “Yeah I know other people, but–how do I say this–they’ll make it weird.”

Weird? Like how Jamil preparing everything from the lights, to the blankets and even stuffing his drawer with extra wipes just in case wasn’t weird? What?

“Wait, what you mean by weird?” Now Jamil’s worried. Did something happen for you to say that? Did someone do something to you?

You waved off his concern. “Well, see, originally I was just going to ask Rook since he doesn’t mind sharing spaces with anyone, but he’s also very into cuddling and I’m not in the mood for that.”

“That’s true, he’s very open about that kind of thin–wait you cuddled him before?” Since when?

“Cuddled him plenty of times. Rook gives the best hugs without trying to flirt with me. Anyways, Rook wasn’t an option, and neither are Ace and Deuce since there’s no room to spare. There was Leona but after that whole ordeal with Azul, I really don’t want to go back there. And as for asking Azul himself… I feel like he’d charge me for that. So, here I am.”

Oh. Well, when putting it like that, it does make sense doesn’t it? So long as you don’t figure out exactly what went through his head when you asked. He’ll just keep quiet about that.

Jamil sighed into his pillow. “While I want to ask why you didn’t ask Kalim, but I know him too well. A peaceful rest isn’t something he can give, not with the way he sleeps.”

You patted his shoulder and it took everything in Jamil to not jump out of his skin. “You get it. So, yeah, thanks Jamil, for not saying no. Honestly, I was ready to find an empty classroom and just sleeping in there.”

Jamil narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do that. You’ll get in trouble. Just sleep here for the time being. When I have time, I’ll see about pestering Crowley into getting everything in order.”

“You do too much for me, Jamil. Really.”

While things didn’t play out the way he wanted to, the warmth flooding in his chest has not once went away. If anything, from the sight of your smile, it threatened to overflow.

This is nice, that you trust him like this.

“…alright, this is still bothering me. How did you and Rook even start cuddling in the first place?”

And can he add himself onto that list of people you cuddle with?

“Hahaha, yeah that is strange, right? Alright, may as well tell you.”

[xdinaryvamp]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ 🩷 ` leehan "read your diary"!!

you and leehan have been bestfriends for years now. you were madly in love with him, but you keept it as a secret, to avoid ruining your friendship. from time to time, tho, you writed about him in your diary.

and as luck would have it, he read it.

genre : fluff, friends to lovers, a little angst, gn reader.

pairings : bestfriend!leehan × bestfriend!reader.

14 / 03

today i saw leehan for the first time in several weeks. he had curly hair, i rarely see him with his hair styled like that.

he was beautiful, i would have loved to caress them, but maybe it would have seemed too strange.

7 / 05

leehan came to my house today, my parents made him up, since he hadn't spent time at our place in a while. we went up to my room and watched a movie. one of those stupid ones, that are supposed to make you laugh.

i would like to write something about that film, but i don't remember anything. leehan was too close to me, i could feel his breath on my neck. i couldn't think of anything but him for the entire duration of the film.

i pretended to laugh when he did so, to not arouse suspicion, but i was completely lost in my own world.

god, my heart is still racing.

9 / 06

i tried to go on a date with a guy tonight. everything went perfectly, but all i could do was think about leehan. how do i get out of this situation?

24 / 08

i dreamed about leehan for the thousandth time last night. i don't want to go into details, because they embarrass me too much. but it felt so real.

as soon as i woke up i cried: i will never have in reality what i have in my mind, so i hate my heart.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“for how long?” leehan was seated on your bed, a notebook open in his hand, as he looked at you in shock.

the notebook was your diary, you left it on your sheets before going out.

you had just returned from the convenience store. your mother had told you that leehan had stopped by to say hello, and that he was upstairs waiting for you.

fear hitted you immediately, terrified that he might find the diary. and he did.

you remained frozen in place, the store bag still in your hand. you didn't know what to say, you rejected the idea that all this was real, that it was really happening.

“i asked,” said leehan, the diary still in his hand “for how long?”

you felt like crying. it had to remain a secret, that's what diaries are for.

how long? you couldn't answer. you couldn't recognize when you actually fell in love with him, maybe you had been all along.

you couldn't even understand his face. was he sad? disappointed? betrayed? disgusted? would this be the end of everything?

“leehan…” your voice sounded like a whisper, a part of you still couldn't force yourself to speak, “please forget everything, we can pretend like nothing happened.”

he finally put the diary down, and looked away from you. “forget everything” he sighed, running a hand through his hair “i won't.”

“leehan…”

“i don't want to.” he said, getting up from your bed, bringing his gaze back to you. “y/n” the look in his eyes was unreadable “why didn't you tell me anything?”

“our friendship” you could feel the palms of your hands getting sweatier and sweatier. “i didn't want to ruin it, you’re my best friend.”

“maybe i don't want to be your best friend anymore.”

your heart broke. deep down you knew, your friendship wouldn't survive this punch.

“can't we at least talk about this? please.”

“i like you too, y/n.” he said, finally the shadow of an emotion you knew on his face “i've been for long.”

“what?” this was a twist you weren't expecting.

“do we want to try to go to the next level?” he smiled, that smile that you loved and hated at the same time, because you knew what it meaned.

with all those questions, before, he had done nothing but tease you, as he always did. he was enjoying the moment.

you so wanted to punch him. “i hate you.” you said, punching him playfully on the shoulder. the tension was finally starting to disappear.

he pointed at the diary on your bed, still smiling. “i have proof that you actually don't.”

“i'm gonna burn that thing.”

“please don't” his laughter filling the room “it just became my favorite thing to read.”

thinking about the fact that if someone were to read my diary i could easily scream, go to another country, change my identity and then die. thank you.

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 5: DATE NIGHT*

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 4 HERE | MASTERLIST | READ CH 6 HERE [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, oral sex (female receiving), language, implied anxiety genre: fluff, angst, slow(ish) burn romance, slight smau wc: ~7.1k a/n: you asked for angst..i hope i delivered. please share your thoughts in my inbox!!

Enchantée(f)/Enchanté(m): 'nice to meet you' Rêveur: 'dreamer'

You stood in front of your mirror applying the final touch of gloss to your lips. Your nerves had been a mess all day and you were mentally spiraling, trying to convince yourself to chill out. It wasn't like it was your first time with Trent. You saw him plenty of times, but tonight felt different compared to the random run-ins and late nights. The anticipation of it all had your stomach doing somersaults.

Why am I so nervous? It’s just Trent. No big deal.

You took a deep breath, staring at your reflection like it was going to give you the answers to the superstorm brewing in your head. This date wasn't like all the other encounters where you ran into him. This date was planned. Intentional. Something about him putting in effort to plan all of it made things feel serious. 

“Okay..he's already seen me naked. It can't get any worse than that,” you said to your reflection, trying to hype yourself up. The pep talk wasn't really stopping your heart rate from skyrocketing though. 

Then you heard a knock. 

The kind of knock that makes your stomach lurch.

You took one glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to keep it together before you opened the door. He looked perfect as always. Honestly, he had no business looking that good. His gaze looked you over before settling on your face. “Damn..you look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You look good too...” you replied neutrally, trying to play it cool. It wasn't really working but it was worth a shot. He stepped closer, his eyes still scanning over you. “Nahh. You're showing out tonight Y/N. Look at you!” You laughed nervously, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “You've seen me before…”

“Not like this..I almost don’t want to go to the class,” he said softly, leaning in towards you. Before you could respond he kissed you. It was slow and deliberate, like he wanted to take his time to savour you. You almost forgot where you were for a second as you felt the warmth of his hand resting on your hip. When he pulled back, he smiled as he looked into your eyes. “Ready for tonight?”

You smiled, although your stomach was still doing somersaults. “Um y–yeah. I think so.”

“You sure? You look like you're about to faint,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “I'm not going to faint! This is just our first date. It feels weird.”

“Why is it weird?”

You shrugged, biting your bottom lip. “We've done everything but this. Just feels different, that’s all.” Trent chuckled as he brushed his thumb over the corner of your lips “Don't overthink it Y/N. We'll have fun.”

“Maybe..” you admitted. You definitely had a habit of overthinking and Trent was starting to clock it. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, but anxiety was always lurking in the background, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and mess with your head. 

“Y/N..” he said softly, “It's just us having a good time.” You nodded, trying to shake off your nerves. “Ugh. You're right..I'm being dumb.”

“You're not dumb. We’ll have a good time tonight,” he said while kissing your temple. Once you were in his car, his hand rested on your thigh as he drove to the cooking studio. “So..you gonna tell me if I get another date? Really trying to impress you here.” You burst out laughing, “The bar was low Trent..you already passed.” Trent joined in on your laughter, not offended in the slightest. “Low? Never that. I'm setting a standard.”

“Mhmm..we'll see.”

The city lights flickered by as he continued to drive. By the time you made it to the studio, your nerves had been replaced with excitement. The chef greeted both of you with a welcoming smile as she handed an apron to both of you. “Welcome, lovebirds! We're making a three course meal tonight. We’re starting with roasted bruschetta topped with heirloom tomatoes and fresh basil, followed by homemade pasta in a truffle sauce. And for dessert, a chocolate soufflé.”

Lovebirds?? 

The lighting in the cooking studio bathed the room as you and Trent tied your aprons. The space had a cozy and inviting feel to it while still being romantic. Every time Trent caught your eye, he looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the room. Your conversation with him flowed naturally as you began preparing the bruschetta. Trent grabbed a tomato, slicing it with more precision than you expected. Maybe he did know his way around the kitchen.

Trent leaned in closer to you as you started prepping the rest of the ingredients. “So how’d you end up in the perfume business? Love Notes..that’s all you?” You were a bit surprised by his curiosity as you glanced up at him. “Yep, it’s mine” you said, before placing an ingredient down. “I used to mix random things together when I was a kid. My parents would get so pissed off, so I would sneak around and do it while they were sleeping.”

Trent laughed, fascination displayed on his face. “So you turned that into perfume?”

“Eventually..” you said, smiling as you began to chiffonade the basil in front of you. “I studied chemistry in uni because I wanted to learn how to mix things professionally. I created a fragrance during my last year for fun..but it ended up getting some attention. Too much attention, actually.”

“It went viral or something?”

You shrugged, feeling shy now. “Sorta. A fragrance house offered to buy the formula from me. That's where I got the money to start Les Notes d'Amour.” Trent set his knife down, turning his attention to you fully. “So, you made a popular perfume and just..sold it to someone else?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I don't know if you've ever heard of it but it's called ‘Enchantée’. I thought I used too much tuberose but—” Trent stared at you for a minute with an unreadable expression as you continued to talk. Then he broke into the biggest smile you’d ever seen before cutting you off mid-sentence. “Enchanté! That's my mum's favorite perfume.”

“Wait..what?!”

“Yeah! She's been wearing it for a long time. That's wild..you made that??” he said, laughing softly. Your heart skipped a beat once you realized there was another layer of connection between the two of you. 

“Trent…are you being serious or are you fucking with me right now? Please.”

The universe sure had a funny way of circling back, always leading you right back to him. “I swear! She talks about it all the time. She never goes a day without it.”

What were the odds? First the train, the café, Paris, and now this. Insane.

“Small world, huh?” you whispered, nudging into him. He nodded, still grinning like he had won the lottery. “Just the universe and all its plot twists. It's been playing matchmaker from the start.” He was right. The idea of fate bringing you together felt more real with every moment you shared with him. You knew there was chemistry, but you never expected it to deepen in this way, it felt surreal. “So..after that I opened Love Notes..” you continued in a softer voice. “I started creating custom fragrances for brides and grooms, celebs, and I made signature collections. I want everyone to have something that’s made just for them.”

Trent reached over, brushing his hand over yours. “That's valid. I didn't know you were out here changing the game like that.” You smiled, feeling your heart race again. “I love it. It never feels like work to me.” You could see the admiration in Trent's eyes. He was taking in every word you said, every part of your journey, your world. “What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus to him. “I know footie is life or whatever, but what about your family? You seem close.”

You saw his expression soften when you mentioned his family. “Yeah, we're close. I've got two brothers who always have my back. We're tight.” You could hear the love in his voice as he continued to gush over his family. “That's so sweet,” you said, admiring how genuine he was being.

“Yeah, they're the reason I’m where I am. Couldn’t do it without ‘em.”

Before you could respond to him, he cupped your chin to tilt your face towards his. He searched your eyes before leaning in, giving you a slow and tender kiss. It felt like a quiet affirmation of the serendipity that seemed to weave your lives together in ways neither of you could fully understand at the moment. He gazed at you, looking like he was about to say something that would change everything.

“Maybe..” he began in a low voice. “Maybe we should stop pretending we're just—”

Your heart pounded, the anticipation pulling you closer as if the entire universe was holding its breath, waiting to hear what he wanted to say.

Was this it?

You felt that familiar tension you always felt with him—like right before lightning strikes. Just as his lips parted to speak again, the chef's voice cut through the silence like a bolt of lightning. 

“How's the bruschetta coming along over there, lovebirds?”

You and Trent jerked back, the spell between you breaking as you turned towards her. Trent was clearly thrown off and it was kind of funny. “Uh, right. The bruschetta,” he sounded like he was trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. You laughed, your tension easing once you saw the frustrated look in his eyes. He leaned into you, whispering in your ear. “I swear, worst timing ever.” You giggled, shaking your head. “The universe is just having a laugh at us, no?”

“Or keeping us on our toes,” he joked. “I guess it wants me to wait a little bit before I say what I really want to.” Whatever he was about to say wasn't forgotten...just postponed.

You both turned back to the partially assembled bruschetta, although his eyes were on you a lot more than they were on the tomatoes. Every time your hands brushed against his, you felt your skin tingle, reminding you of what almost happened. 

Eventually, you managed to pull it off pretty well. Sure, it was just toasted bread with toppings but it looked delicious. “See? I told you I knew how to cook,” Trent said with a smirk as he slid the bruschetta onto a plate. “Umm, let's not get carried away. All you did was chop some tomatoes and toast bread.” He nudged you with his shoulder lightly, “Ah, just wait til we get to a real challenge like the pasta.”

“Can't wait to see that disaster,” you teased, moving on to the next dish. The chef brought over a bowl of flour, eggs, and oil as she explained the technique of mixing it by hand. “Knead it just right. Don't be afraid to get messy, it's part of the fun!” You saw Trent's eyes light up as soon as the words 'messy' and 'fun' were mentioned. You were in danger, girl.

You made a well in the flour for the eggs as you followed the chef's instructions intently, but Trent was less focused on perfection. He dove straight into the flour, sending small flour cloud puffs into the air. “Slow down!” you shrieked, laughing as you tried to fix the pile of flour that was spilling over the counter. He grinned mischievously before grabbing a small handful of flour and tossed it in your direction. It hit you on the shoulder as a cloud of white dust settled on your outfit.

“Trent, I swear to god–”

He grabbed more flour before you were able to finish your sentence and flicked it at you. You grabbed a huge handful in retaliation, hitting his shirt, his hair, and half his face. “Oh, that's how it is?” he wiped some flour off his cheek, grinning like a kid in a candy store. You tried to dodge his next attempt but he was moving quicker than you were, setting off a flour warfare. Your face scrunched up, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “We have to clean this up later,” you warned. He stepped closer, dusting some flour off your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Unbeknownst to you, the chef had pulled out her phone and recorded the entire thing. “You two are too cute! Don’t mind me..just getting this for the ‘gram.” You hesitated for a second, wondering how this would look to everyone watching online. The thought of it made your anxiety start to creep in, but then you glanced at Trent. He looked absolutely ridiculous and had flour all over him, yet he was still grinning ear to ear. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like a big deal anymore. You were having the time of your life, and you didn’t care to think about the specifics of it at the time.

Eventually, you both managed to get back to the dough. Shared laughter filled the studio as you both struggled to knead the pasta into shape. You managed to pull it together before moving on to prepare the chocolate soufflé. There was no funny business this time, you both worked perfectly in sync before placing the soufflé in the oven. 

While the soufflé baked, you and Trent sat down at the table to enjoy the bruschetta and pasta. There were soft flickerings of candlelight which would have been romantic under most circumstances, but the fact that both of you were covered in flour made it feel like the goofiest thing ever. Trent’s shirt was basically covered and you had flour all over your face. You couldn’t stop the fit of giggles every time you looked at each other.

“This is a good look for us,” Trent said, chuckling as he wiped a bit of flour from your cheek. “Ready for me to post our masterpiece?” You hesitated for a second before smiling. The lightness of the evening still had you on cloud nine. “Yeah go ahead. It’s just a plate of pasta, right?” He pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of plated food on the table before posting it to his story. You weren't really in the shot. The only thing that could be seen was the tiniest sliver of hair in the frame, but the flour coated mess in the background was obvious. 

Just a harmless picture, you figured. There was no way the chef’s video would go viral. She wasn’t too well known, plus, the night had been too fun to worry about all the little details. It was just a plate of food, right? 

But then again… the internet was the internet.

In record time, your phone started pinging. Again…and then again. Frowning, you picked up your phone as the notifications came flooding in faster than you could process. Trent glanced over with his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“All good?”

You swiped open Instagram, immediately noticing SpillTheBeansUK had already reposted Trent's story, along with the chef's video. The video featured you and Trent in a fit of laughter while covered in flour, and people were connecting the dots faster than you imagined:

@.SpillTheBeansUK 👀 Looks like TAA’s mystery girl @.yourusername strikes again! The flour fight, the looks, the vibes..this is more than just a date. When’s the wedding?

@.ChillOutMate its giving hard launch but im shy

@.TAA_Angel03 Girly you’re feeding MY MAN well so you’re good in my book. But Trent..please come home we can fix this baby

@.InTheStands92 T isn’t subtle with his story at all LOL. He may as well have tagged her

@.CuppaT66 Man tried so hard not to reveal and still failed lmao

@.Y2KBabe20 Is this a soft launch or hard launch? confused but INVESTED

@.TeamHardLaunch ok, fuck a soft launch.. when is the wedding

@.YNGotFansNow The chef really did us a solid here. We needed this update!! But the fact they still don’t follow each other is driving me mad 😩

@.YNperfume_fan I wonder what scent Y/N wore for this date night? Something gourmand to match the vibe I bet.

@.ConspiracyBabe they’re not gonna hard launch until Y/N’s new fragrance collection drops. She’s gonna tie it all together and Trent’s gonna promote it. This is all PR strategy. 👀

@.FootieStan08 I want to hate but the way they’re looking at each other in that video is so cute. Fuming tho 😤

@.GossipLuvr ‘The Wait’  a fragrance by Y/N. Notes of suspense and slow burn angst. 😂

@.YNPerfumeJunkie not me refreshing her website just in case a surprise perfume launch happens after this date night 😭

@.TeamYNOfficial liking the chef’s post and then posting his own like we can’t piece it all together. You’re so obvious T

@.LoyalTStan wait…someone said they’ve been married for a year but keeping it private. I saw it on a forum  👀 

@.GirlWhatLies A YEAR?? sis they’ve been publicly spotted together like 2 times. Where are you getting this info??! lmao wtf

You handed the phone to Trent, who couldn’t stop laughing as he scrolled through the comments. “Man, these people are wild.”

“Right?” you replied, still giggling. “They’re already planning our wedding and we haven’t even had dessert yet.”

“I guess we’ll have to tell them to RSVP at a later date...” You scrunched up your eyebrows, giving Trent a confused look. “Huh? What are you on about?”

“We can’t have people RSVPing to our wedding if we’re not official yet, right?” he said, with a smug smile. Your brain was struggling to catch up with what was happening. 

You blinked, completely taken aback as you realized. “Wait..are you asking me—”

Just as you were beginning to clarify—and possibly answer his question, a shrill, ear splitting beep filled the air followed by the blaring of a smoke alarm. You both whipped your heads toward the oven. 

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

*BEEP!

!BEEP*

“Oh! The soufflé!” you yelped, eyes wide with panic. Trent’s laughter erupted beside you, both of you jumped out of your chairs, scrambling towards a chaotic mess of flour and panic. You grabbed a towel, frantically waving it near the alarm as the smell of burnt chocolate filled the air. The noise was so loud and annoying you could barely think, let alone hear anyone over the noise.

“IT’S BURNT!” you yelled over the blaring alarm, waving the towel harder.

Trent, still chuckling, quickly grabbed oven mitts and yanked open the oven door. “YEAH, NO SHIT!” he shouted, barely containing his laughter.

The whole thing was hilarious, truly. There was flour still clinging to both of you while smoke billowed from the oven, the alarm was blaring like a screaming toddler, and your phone was still pinging with notifications. Throughout all the chaos, it felt like your body was pumped with pure adrenaline. You knew what you wanted to say, and you needed to say it now.

“YES!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, continuing to fan the towel wildly. “I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” 

Trent whipped his head around, a huge grin spread across his face but the noise was so deafening he clearly misheard you. “YEAH! WE’LL CLEAN THE OVEN AFTER THIS!”

You blinked, caught off guard by his response. “WHAT? NO!! I SAID I’LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!”

Trent stared at you for a second as your words connected in his head, then he burst into hysterical laughter while taking the oven mitts off. “OHHHH! GIRLFRIEND, NOT OVEN! THAT MAKES SENSE!”

You were laughing too now, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once. “YES! YOUR GIRLFRIEND, SILLY!”

Without missing a beat, Trent crossed the smoky kitchen in a few quick steps and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into a deep fiery kiss. The fire alarm was still blaring while the smell of burnt chocolate filled the room, but none of it mattered. His hands held you close, your flour covered fingers gripping the front of his shirt as you kissed him back with just as much urgency.

Somewhere in the background, the chef stood with her arms crossed, smiling like she witnessed the greatest love story she had ever seen. She made no move to stop the chaos. She just let it unfold like she knew this was exactly how it was supposed to happen.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless and laughing as you tried to catch your breath. The alarm continued to screech dramatically.

“WELL,” Trent yelled, still holding onto you, “THAT’S ONE WAY TO MAKE IT OFFICIAL!”

You laughed, pulling him closer. “DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I IMAGINED!”

He grinned, his voice teasing. “BUT YOU SAID YES! A WIN IS A WIN BABY!”

As the fire alarm finally died down, and the chef gave you both a thumbs-up from across the room and you knew one thing for sure: 

The whole situation was perfectly imperfect in the best way..and it was yours.

After helping the chef clean up the studio kitchen, you and Trent headed back to your apartment for some much needed alone time. Flour still clung to your clothes as you stepped inside, but Trent didn't seem to care. The moment he heard the door click, his hands found your waist to pull you close. The way he gripped you was so needy, like he had been waiting to have you alone all night. He wasted no time pulling you into a hungry kiss as his hands made their way down to knead your ass. 

“Shower?” you whispered against his lips, barely managing to pull away.

“I won’t say no to that,” he winked, clearly having more intentions than just a shower.

You both tossed your flour covered clothes aside quickly before stepping into the shower. The water cascaded over your skin as it washed away the remaining remnants of the chaotic date night. Trent's hands immediately found their place, cemented onto your hips to pull you close to him from behind. 

He murmured against your neck, "Y'know..I had a good time tonight.”

You turned your head as your breath caught slightly from his hands sliding up your sides, his fingers tracing the curves on your body. "Mmm, me too." His lips moved to your shoulder as you felt heat rush to your core. You tilted your head and rested it on his shoulder when his hands moved lower, teasing the skin above your thighs.

"Trent please.." you whimpered, voice filled with desperation. “I need you.” His fingers immediately found their way between your legs, slipping inside you in a slow and deliberate motion. You gasped, clutching his arm to steady yourself as he curled his fingers inside of you with the perfect rhythm.

“You like that?” Trent whispered against your ear in a low and erotic voice, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to his fingers. You moaned softly, biting your lip as you nodded. “Y-yesss.” 

His other hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple sending sparks of fire coursing through you. “You’re so wet for me, baby,” he said, moving his fingers faster and deeper. 

You moaned in response, your body arching into his touch as the water streamed over both of you. The tension in your core tightened and you could feel yourself teetering on the brink of seventh heaven. Just as you were getting close to falling over the edge, a sudden thought blared in your mind—the shop.

Your eyes flew open, a sudden panic rising in your chest. 

Fuck, did I turn off the equiptment?! 

Your mind started racing as the anxiety came in full throttle. You hated when this happened. Always thinking about the next thing, especially right now, frustrated the hell out of you. Trent felt your body tense up and his hand immediately froze in place. “Shit..did I hurt you? I'm sorry.”

“No, no,” you quickly reassured him. “I think I forgot to turn something off at Love Notes. I need to go check, like right now.”

Trent stared at you, looking like he was caught between desire and confusion. “Now???”

“Yes, now! I can’t leave it on overnight.” you said, pulling away as you stepped out to quickly dry off and get dressed. Trent sighed, running his hand over his neck. “Only you would remember that right now, Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you mouthed, feeling guilty for letting your mind ruin the moment.

By the time you arrived at Les Notes d'Amour it was late, really late. The streets were basically empty and the shop was dark with the exception of dim lighting that illuminated the displays. You headed straight back to where the equipment was, relief washing over you when you saw nothing had gone wrong. The machinery had been off the entire time. You took a deep breath, double checking everything again to make sure you weren’t losing your mind. Trent stood nearby, leaning on the doorframe and looking completely relaxed like always. “Better?”

“Much better. Thanks for coming with me” you smiled, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders.

“No problem..” he said, stepping closer. “now since we’re here..”

You raised your eyebrow, curious. “What??” 

He grinned, a familiar glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “How about we make that aftershave we talked about?”

“Right now? You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning against the counter. “We’re already here anyway. Let's do it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you grabbed your perfume diary and some of your favorite oils. You immediately went into your element, gathering ingredients as Trent wandered around the shop. He occasionally picked up a bottle, sniffing it with curiosity.

“So..” he said, coming to stand next to you, “whatcha got?”

You explained the process as you went along, handing him different oils to smell. He made a funny face at some, but others seemed to catch his interest. You walked him through the idea of base notes, heart notes, and top notes. “I want something warm,” Trent said confidently. “Not too heavy, a little fresh.” You nodded, pulling together ingredients based on his preferences. “How about lavender? It's light and fresh. We can mix it with something like apple and spice for warmth.” While working, you mixed in a note of vanilla, cedar, and sandalwood to round the scent out—it was smooth yet bold as a testament to his calm confidence. While you were busy scribbling the formula down on a sticky note, Trent wandered over with a pen, flipping to a blank page in your notebook to write a note. 

He started doodling in soft strokes as he sketched a small eclipse. The delicate lines formed a shadow of the moon crossing in front of the sun. He hesitated for a second before writing the words that had been on his mind since Paris.

I want you for as long as the stars shine. - T

You were still mixing oils on the far end of the room looking like a mad scientist. He glanced over at you to make sure you were still distracted as he closed the notebook, hiding his little secret for you to find later. When you turned back around, Trent was leaning against the counter looking too innocent. You raised your eyebrow, knowing something was up. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” he said with a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Just letting my girl work her magic.” You narrowed your eyes playfully, still smiling. “I know you’re up to no good..” You eyed him suspiciously but decided to let it slide. “Okay sneaky, what do you think of the scent?” Trent took a deep breath, taking in the warm fragrance.

“Oh nah..what is this..?” he yelped, pulling the bottle away from his face dramatically. Your heart sank for a millisecond before you saw the corners of his mouth twitching. He was just fucking with you.

“Stop fucking around,” you said, rolling you eyes. “You're the worst liar ever.”

He started cracking up before pulling you into a quick hug. “You got me. But nah..you did amazing. I love it.” You pulled away from him, crossing your arms as you pretended to be annoyed. In reality, you were loving the way he was hyping you up. “You're so annoying, I swear.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “What are we going to name it?”

You paused, thinking for a moment before looking at the bottle. This part of the process was the most fun, naming your creation to describe the meaning beyond the bottle. “What about Rêveur?” you asked, the name rolling off your tongue easily. 

“What’s that?” he asked inquisitively. 

“Dreamer,” you replied with a soft smile. “It's perfect for you. You already made so many of your dreams come true.” Trent was silent but when he finally spoke, his voice lost its usual playfulness. “Hmm..Rêveur..” he repeated as he nodded. “I like that. Dreamer..yeah, that's perfect.”

As the name hung in the air, Trent set the bottle aside as his eyes darkened with admiration..and something more primal. You barely finished naming the scent before his arms were circling around your waist, his lips ghosting over your neck. “You're amazing, you know?” You opened your mouth to respond but your words were caught in your throat as his lips claimed yours in a hungry kiss. His hands roamed your body as he walked you backward until your body hit the display counter. Your perfume bottles rattled but you didn't care, all you could focus on was the heat pooling between your legs, the sensation of his touch, his lips moving from your mouth to your neck, then lower, lower...

“Trent..” you gasped, gripping the edge of the counter. He pulled back, dropping to his knees with confidence. “You made something for me, yeah? I think I need to reward you.”

Your pulse quickened as his hands slid up your thighs, pulling off the tiny shorts you had thrown on after your shower earlier. He hooked his fingers under your panties and dragged them down agonisingly slow before locking his eyes on yours, daring you to stop him.

You couldn't think clearly around this man, so there was no way you were stopping him. In fact, you needed him to keep going, and quickly.

“You deserve this,” he whispered as he kissed your inner thigh, sending a chill through you. His words made your breath hitch, but then his mouth was on you and you felt your whole world tilt. His tongue moved in perfect rhythm, flicking, teasing, and sucking until your knees buckled. You gripped the counter for support, gasping his name as he held you in place. Every stroke of his tongue brought you closer to ecstasy.

“F-fuck, that feels so good,” you could barely get the words out due to his tongue’s relentless assault on your pussy. He hummed against you and the vibrations had you seeing stars. His hands gripped your thighs tighter to hold you steady. You could feel the pressure twisting, tightening, building until you couldn't take it anymore. You were teetering on the edge of a devastatingly perfect orgasm as your body begged for release. He pulled back just enough to murmur against your skin, “Let go, baby. I wanna taste you when you cum.”

You arched your back against the counter, moaning his name as your orgasm tore through you like a wildfire. It was so intense that it was almost unbearable, but he didn't stop. His tongue was working you through the aftershocks to draw out every bit of pleasure until you were completely undone. When he finally pulled away, he rose to his feet with a cocky grin.

“Best aftershave I ever made,” you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Trent laughed, cupping your chin with his hands as he murmured against your lips, deep with affection. “Thank you.”

No. Thank YOU, you thought to yourself.

The way he looked at you made your heart race, but your mind started racing too as the warmth of the moment faded. A feeling of uneasiness stirred inside you. For a second you smiled at him, but the weight of everything you hadn't told him yet crept up and threatened to pull you down like a rip current. If you were going to have something real with him, you needed to be completely honest. He needed to know the truth. 

About you. About everything.

“Trent..” you began in a shaky voice. You pulled away, gesturing around the room. “This...all of this..is like my baby. It's the only thing I've ever truly had control over in my life.”

His brow furrowed, sensing the shift in your mood. “What do you mean?”

You ran a hand through your hair, sighing as you tried to find the right words. “I wasn't always like this. Successful, I mean. I almost lost all of it. Everything I built...all of this.” You gestured around the room again. “Because of him.”

“..Who?”

“My ex,” you spoke quietly, not wanting his name to linger on your tongue at all. “He was older..successful, charming..all of that. It was everything I thought I wanted, well–everything my parents wanted for me.” You swallowed thickly, the memories rushing back like ghosts haunting you.

“I thought the ups and downs were just a part of starting something new, y'know? I thought the struggles were normal but they weren't. He sabotaged me.” Trent's jaw clenched as he sat up straighter, turning his full attention to you. “He didn't want me to have something of my own,” you continued, your voice trembling. “He wanted a young trophy wife..someone he could parade around with at events. He seemed so established..so powerful. I guess I was drawn to that.”

Trent's hand tensed on your leg, “What did he do?”

The words started spilling out before you could stop them. “He fucked everything up. He stole some of my clients and pulled them into his failing business ventures. He shared ideas I was working on with competitors..he wanted to destroy me. He hated that I had ‘Love Notes’. He wanted me to feel like I needed him.” You paused as the bitter taste of the memory made your throat tight. “And I was so stupid..I stayed. Because my parents were so proud of me for being with him. They thought he was perfect. They wanted me to have this perfect life and if I walked away..I knew they'd be disappointed.”

He nodded, silently giving you more time to open up at your own pace.

You could feel tears welling up but you pushed them back. “I thought I had to keep up appearances because it was what everyone expected. Every day I stayed..I lost more of myself. My business was crumbling..my confidence didn't exist. And I didn't even realize it was because of him.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “It wasn't until Camille stepped in that I really started to see how fucked everything was. She saw right through him and hated him from the start…but she never pushed me. She just waited until I was ready.”

Trent looked at you with a mix of concern and admiration. He was being so patient with you. “Camille pulled every string she could to get me away from him. She cut off every business tie he had. Her family–they're connected in ways I don't even fully understand myself..but they made sure he wouldn't come near me again.” 

To be honest, they were the only reason your life wasn’t in shambles right now. 

“I owe her everything,” you admitted quietly. 

“Camille is a real one,” Trent said quietly, still taking in what you had just told him.

“Yeah, she is,” you agreed. “She warned me not to fall too fast for you but–” Trent's eyes softened as he pulled you into him. “I'm not him, Y/N. You don't have to worry about that. He sounds like a piece of shit.”

“I know..but it's hard,” you whispered, feeling the comfort of his words wash over you. “I have this fear that I'm not enough. Like–I'm going to mess everything up. And you're...you. You made all your dreams come true and I'm trying to keep my head above water half the time.”

Trent's thumb moved to your cheek, wiping away a tear that fell down. “Nah, it's not like that,” he said quietly. “I feel pressure constantly. Everyone expects me to win every match, be the best on and off the pitch. I feel like I'm not enough sometimes too.” You didn't really expect him to open up like this, at least not right now. You didn't know he felt the same kind of weight you carried. “You don't show it,” you muttered. "You always seem so confident like you have it all together.”

He smiled but there was a hint of sadness in his brown eyes. “Yeah, I'm good at hiding it. I have to be. Can't show your weakness when the whole world is watching.”

“I just don't want to lose myself,” you admitted in a small voice. “I can't go through that again.” Trent pulled you into a warm embrace to ground you. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N. Just tell me what you need and I'll give it to you.”

“I want to believe that, but I'm scared of what it means to be with you. I'm scared of messing up and not being enough for you.” Trent kissed your cheek, continuing to hold you close to him. “You don't need to be perfect Y/N. I don't need that..I just need you.” For a moment, you stayed wrapped in his arms as the weight of what was said filled the room. “You won't lose yourself,” he whispered. “Not with me.”

Maybe Trent was right. You clawed your way out of hell a year and a half ago. Despite your short time together, he made you feel something no one else ever had, especially not your god awful ex. Trent wanted you to believe you deserved every little good thing coming your way. He wanted you to see yourself the way others did, and he wasn't going to stop until you finally saw it too.

The drive back to your place was quiet but not awkward; both of you needed a minute to process everything. Trent's hand rested on it's usual place–your thigh. Every once in a while he would give your leg a reassuring squeeze to remind you he was right there and not going anywhere. You glanced at him, noticing his brow was furrowed like he was deep in thought. He seemed like he was mulling over everything you told him and it made you feel vulnerable..but it felt safe. You were thankful you didn't have to speak right now, both of you just existing in comfortable silence together after a heavy conversation.

Meanwhile, Trent's brain was running a mile a minute. What you told him about your ex had him fuming, he couldn't believe someone would do that to you. He didn't show it though. He knew how evil some people could be, and the fact that someone nearly made you lose everything made his stomach turn. And then there was the pressure he knew all too well–the public eye. He was used to it, but the idea of you facing that kind of attention made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap. He was protective.. maybe more than he should have been, but it was clear he didn't want anyone to hurt you again..not even him.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence. He glanced at you with his hand still resting on your thigh. “Yeah, I'm just thinking.”

“Thinking about???”

“You,” he admitted in a soft voice. “You're strong for getting out of that mess and building a life for yourself.” You swallowed, throat tight with emotion. “But Camille, she–”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut you off gently. “You didn't let him win though, and that says a lot about who you are as a person.” You didn't know how to respond to his statement so you just nodded, feeling your chest warm up at his words.

As you stepped inside your apartment, the quietness of the night settled around you. Trent followed close behind, which made everything feel more secure. You turned to face him, feeling the weight of everything you shared earlier. “Tonight was a lot,” you said, giving him a tired smile. He nodded, stepping closer. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm glad you told me.” 

You sighed, feeling exhaustion hit you at once. “You needed to know.” His hands found your waist and pulled you into him, “I’m still not going anywhere, Y/N.” You rested your head against his chest, letting his heartbeat soothe your thoughts. “I'm so sleepy,” you muttered against his shirt. “Let's get some sleep then, yeah? It’s late,” he said softly, guiding you to the bed. 

Once you climbed in, you fell asleep nearly instantly as Trent wrapped his arm protectively around you. Your phones were still pinging with notifications, they never really stopped honestly. Trent glanced at the screen as more people pieced together your 'soft launch'—if you could even call it that. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at the chaos that ensued tonight. He reached over gently, grabbing both phones and put them on silent.

While the two of you rested, the world outside hadn't stopped. The internet sleuths were in full force, your phones pinging silently as notifications poured in. The aftermath of tonight's not-so-subtle soft launch had the internet working overtime, piecing together clues you didn't realize were even there.

@.TarotQueenMystic Just pulled some cards for Trent and Y/N: ‘The Lovers’, ‘The Tower’, and ‘Nine of Swords’. This connection is seriously intense but they're about to hit a turning point. ‘The Lovers’ card shows a true deep bond..but ‘The Tower’? That's a warning. Something is about to shake up their world for sure. ‘Nine of Swords’ shows some sleepless nights ahead. Things are definitely going to go up in smoke before they get better! Something or someone could bring it all down, but it’s all a part of the universe’s plan. Stay tuned 🔮✨

@.FanFicReality ngl it feels like we’re being edged bc wtf is this supposed to mean? hello???

@.premierleagueprincess i was today years old when i realised i need a tarot reader on speed dial for my ship omg!!

@.LFCQueen Not the tower card...ain’t that the one where everything goes to shit? 😳

@.soccerchicTX I knew something felt cosmic about them! The lovers card is fate babes. They’re endgame if they can get through this

@.TuberosaConspiracy Omg guys Y/N uses tuberose in almost every collection. It’s all about intense love and dangerous attraction. Coincidence? I think NOT!!!

@.ImTalkingToYouReaders Tuberose means WHAT?!! We’ve been sleeping on these perfume easter eggs!!

im glad y’all told me u wanted angst bc now i’m feeling a bit chaotic 🥳

thank you for reading! 💌

[wolfofcelestia]

One of my last reblogs got me thinking about this so here is

How all four Zaynes + Sylus would treat you for low iron

Warnings: mentions of hunting, blood, suspicious food and drink. Everything aside from Doctor Zayne's section is not rooted in reality so don't take this as medical advice. If you feel tired all the time, go ask your doctor about it and get a blood test. Trust me, you're not supposed to be tired all the time.

Doctor Zayne

By the book treatments. You'll get iron pills and recommendations for iron-rich foods. If your stomach can't handle the pills, he might recommend iron infusions, all supervised by medical personnel. On his free nights, he'd take you out to dinner or cook for you to make sure you eat iron-rich foods, even if it's only in his presence

Dawnbreaker

He'd repeatedly remind you to rely on him. Just stay in bed, he'll take care of the rest

In his world, everything you need to live is packaged in nutrient drinks or in pills, so he'd gather all these less than tasty nutrient drinks and pills but he'd also go to the outskirts of town, where the wild animals have taken over a part of a forest. They don't entirely live in harmony with the wanderers there. Some say they're no longer animals, but meat is meat, and only fresh meat will do for his beloved, especially when she's sick

He'd come home with freshly butchered meat, and the blood from the meat in large bottles, hoping she'd be able to get some benefit from drinking such a valuable and rare fluid

Foreseer

He wouldn't treat you. You don't belong in the tower. You'll only get sicker here.

"Go back to your people. Only they can help you. I have no means or the experience to cure you here."

But you won't leave. Stubborn, even in the face of an illness that makes you weaker and weaker by the day. But you've experienced this before. It's nothing new

Soon, you and Jas annoy him enough to convince him wild game is actually high in iron and, with his powers, he'd easily be able to hunt one near the tower

It would be his first meal with someone. A warm, hearty meal with the girl he's seen his other selves eat with so many times before

Master of Fate

"Close your eyes and hold my hands. Imagine my energy flowing out of my body, crossing over our hands like a bridge, and being absorbed into your body. Take as much as you need."

The Master of Fate is also a master of ancient energy magic, so something like mana or energy transfer would be easy for him if you're ill or need a boost

This won't fix the cause of your low energy of course, but this would be a start to get you on your feet

Once you have enough energy to travel down the mountain, he'd bring you to a healer, someone who works with and sells all sorts of dried herbs and Chinese medicines

Protest all you want but these bitter, smelly concoctions are going into your mouth one way or another. He'd laugh at your reaction and call you a child for making a fuss about taking your medicine, and he'd promise you a sugary treat if you take it like a good girl

Sylus

"Are you ignoring Zayne's advice again? You're really putting him through his paces, huh? I'd have my own personal doctor take a look at you but I have a feeling you'd listen to him even less. Well, if it's iron you need, then tonight we'll have steak. And we'll have steak for as many nights as you like after that. I'll have the chef work on a meal plan with you."

With your steak dinners, he'd offer you a particular red wine. It tastes a little sharper, a little richer... The way he watches so carefully when you take a drink, and the way he smiles at you when you swallow... You'd be suspicious about it, if it weren't for the fact that you did in fact feel much better after each meal

[tan1shere]

I HAVE A..A FUN LITTLE IDEA!

what if sugar mommy billie x sugarbaby reader and like billie loves buying things for reader and loves just buying stuff for her and reader is kinda a bimbo but the public thinks they are polar opposite best friends. not knowing that same night reader put lingerie on that billie bought for her and billie tear it off to eat her out then later fuck her (with strap)

crazy big brain moment when thinking about if i should be a sugar baby or not

A Little Secret

Sugar mommy Billie Eilish x sugar baby fem reader !

A/n: duhrrr omg I adore this, and GURL you're so very real for that last statement 😫 I really hope I did a good job !!!! And that you like it 😊

Summary: it was all top secret what you and billie truly were. Definitely not just friends.

Warnings: Slight age difference ? (B30,R21) fingerings, eating out, let me know if i missed anything !!

Masterlist

You could come out and just say that the two of you are dating. But people would soon realize there was something more going on. So. You both had to keep it as secret as possible. Not to mention how obvious the age gap was.

And you managed to, it was especially hard when you wanted to post and flaunt all the pretty gifts she'd get you. All you wanted to do was show how thankful you were of her. You wanted to show her off even if the situation wasn't as normal so you two see it. But you both didn't care, you were insanely happy.

One day you were getting ready to go out to the mall. You open your car door to be met with some roses and a prezzie. With a note from Billie saying.

"I wanna be the reason you slightly tilt your phone away from others when you read it" - Have a good day sweet angel ;)

That was a constant thing she'd do, leaving gifts for you, especially with a cheeky note.

"Hey Bub, look what I got." She says with the widest grin. "Whatcha get." You say sitting up from the couch. She had a black handbag in hand, it was beautiful. She turns it around, smirking as your eyes gleam at the designer symbol. You look at her, looking at that sexy smirk of hers, her eyes. You quite literally pounce at her, kissing her lips. "This is gorgeous Bill!" You beamed as you go to grab it, looking at it. The compartments.

"Exactly like you baby." You blush ever so slightly, as you keep looking at it. You were truly mesmerized. "You can use it for our date night tomorrow." She then says leaning on the couch. "Where are we going!?" You had so much enthusiasm she adored it. It made her feel truly happy. "It's a surprise my love." You sit there and think for a moment. "Alright, but I know wherever it is I'll love it." She smiles more. "I know you will."

Tonight was the night, you were currently in the bathroom lining your lips before you put the soft red lipstick on. She comes up behind you, kissing your neck. "You look so good. Smell great too." You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "So do you!" She soon looks at you through the mirror. "Kinda don't even want to go for food now, I mean. You look pretty tasty." She bites your neck, causing another giggle to rumble from you. "Bill." - "You'll be calling me something completely different by the time I'm done with you."

A blush spreads widely across your cheeks, even more considering the slight blush you already wore. She then turns you around once your lipstick was applied. Grabbing your hand gently and kissing it. "Howd I get so lucky. Daym." You kiss her cheek. "I'm so grateful for you." You say sweetly. "Ready?" You nod as she takes your hand in hers again, taking you to the car.

The place she took you to was beautiful, the building was dimly lit. Only source of light was coming from a few on the ceiling, and the tall, skinny candles on the tables. You and Billie sit down, tucking your feet under the red velvet table cloth. Billie would always make sure the places she took you to were secluded. Just in case any eyes saw. Of course it could've been just two friends. But with the way you two were both dressed, a blind man would spot that from a mile away.

The evening was great, everything so still, calm and quiet. Soaking up the luxury of the building and the atmosphere. When you were both ready to go she grabs your hand leading you out to the car, like always she opens the door for you. Letting you get in before it closes, and she's making her way to the driver's side.

The ride is peaceful you had the window rolled down enjoy the slight breeze. You then get the idea to stick your head out, maneuvering your body out of the seat belt, having your back slightly out of the car. Having it rest there. Your hands grip the upper part of the car, leaning your head back as the wind blows through your hair. But as you got into the position you're in currently. You were unaware of the fact your dress had ridden up ever so slightly. Giving Billie the most perfect view of your black lace underwear.

Specifically the ones she bought you just recently. You hadn't worn them yet so it cones as a surprise to her eyes. She had to stay focused on driving but God how it hugged your pussy so delicately. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She eventually did, knowing you guys were almost home. The things this woman was about to do. She truly wasn't kidding earlier on.

That's exactly how you ended up here, sprawled on the black fuzzy sheets. The softness of the fabric against you skin only adding to Billies actions. Which currently was teasing. Your whine was heard for maybe the 5th time now. But she needed to savor this. Your taste your scent. Her face was right infront of your cunt, having her nose bump your clit purposefully. Sending you absolutely mental.

"Billie-" Your whiney voice echoed throughout her ears, her mind. Her soul. And all movement stops. Her eyes look straight up at you warningly. Your breath only gets caught in your throat, knowing where you fucked up. But too fucked out to correct. Her figure was still as anything, awaiting the propper words. Until you're whining again. Her head just shakes.

"That's no way to talk to me sweetheart." Her finger taps your thigh gently. "Do you not want this?" She knew damn well you did, but she needed you to say the word, needed you to address her properly.

"What do you call me baby. Go on, be good."

A small whimper is heard. Her finger slowly coming in line with your entrance making you snap out of your dazed state.

"Mommy."

"Louder." Her finger slides into you.

"Mommy!" You screech slightly, having your mouth hang open.

"Good. Girl."

She notices your reaction as she kisses around your pussy. "Don't forget to breathe." She whispers sexily, so slow with her words too. Her own breath fanning against the skin of your swollen cunt.

And that's all it took, for her fingers to move so insanely fast inside you. Her mouth coming to suck on your pussy lips, biting just a tiny bit. Your head flew back again, eventually feeling her soft hands move up your torso, so slowly, every action. Reaching a breast and squeezing. Your head starts to spin, her movements rapid.

Everything was happening in the speed of light as your orgasm approaches quick. Sending your head right back into the pillows as her tongue relentlessly moves against your clit. "Mommy, please let me cum.. please." Your breath was nothing but short finding any thought in your brain to be dead. She hums against you the vibrations not helping with the fact you had to hold on, until she grants you that permission you so helplessly need. "Mommy!" You scream out. "Cum." She growls against you.

Billie was so caught up in it she actually hadn't heard your voice asking. Her hands were gripped tightly around your thighs most definitely creating a mark. The way you smelt was like a drug, addictive. And the taste she could already feel on the tip of her tongue. "Need more." She then moans into you, desperate to taste you properly. You hadn't even overcome the last euphoric feeling.

When you feel her tongue stick deep inside you. Your eyes roll all the way back at this new feeling, her tongue was so warm and wet. Mixing with your previous orgasm. The way you tasted makes her own eyes roll back. If anything she was enjoying this more than you. Not to say you weren't, wriggling with pleasure underneath her. "T-too m-uhg!" A moan gets caught along your words as her finger move to spread your folds open, wide. Her tongue moving in and out of you faster. You were so loose currently and she was adoring it.

Loving how easily her tongue was slipping in. Your hole feeling stretched around her tongue. You begin to shake as the second one is coming, her nose bumping your clit as she moves. Making your brain fuzz over with pure pleasure. You gush into her mouth having her drink you like a thirsty dog, your body giving out in the process. She could care less that you didn't ask. Cuz like an addict she's not stopping tonight. Or ever.

She was going to drink you dry.

[penkura]

I don't know how to word it properly but I want to request, Penguin and y/n (who are currently not dating) go on a Wano festival date.

Dressed in yukatas, playing games, winning prizes for each other, hand feeding food/takoyaki to eachother to try, watching fireworks near a cherry tree, a petal falls on one of their heads and they brush it out flustering the other a bit ☺️💕 That classic anime/manga trope.

Omg yes, the classic anime trope with Penguin, my heart. 💚💚 This is so cute thank you for this! I can see Penguin in this situation so well!

When Penguin asked you to be his date for one of the post-battle Wano festivals, you were quick to accept with such a bright smile that he couldn’t help but return it. He didn’t think you’d actually agree at first, but when you did, he was ecstatic! He was worried you didn’t feel the same way or would just say no thanks, but even Law could see how much the two of you liked each other. It was a wonder you hadn’t gotten together yet.

He figures the two of you will just see what happens the day of your date, there’s no definite plan apart from the end of the night. There’s going to be fireworks again and Penguin fully intends on bringing you to the hill with a cherry blossom tree to watch them. He does realize there might be other couples there, but it doesn’t matter. He likes you so much, he wants to make this first date special!

Penguin is so nervous though when he leads you through the festival stalls, holding your hand to keep from losing you in the crowd. He was nervous before you two even took off on your own, but when he sees you in your yukata he felt the blush creep up his face as you smile at him and tell him he looks nice in his blue yukata. He stammers out a thank you and replies in kind, which makes you just as happy.

Penguin watches you stare at a stuffed animal that one of the game stalls has, it’s a cute little penguin, making him grin over it. Maybe you’re thinking about him, or maybe it’s just a cute plush to you. Either way, the way you’re looking at it tells him you want it more than other toys or prizes you’ve seen tonight. When he offers to play the game to get it, you try to tell him not to worry about it.

“I don’t want you to waste your money on it! It’s just a plush, I can—”

“No, it’s not a waste at all!” Penguin’s grin is more then enough to make you relent, as he leads you over to the stall and puts down the money for the game, receiving three balls to throw at the bottles set up in return. “Just watch, I’m great at this!”

He might have over exaggerated his skills, but Penguin gets so close the third time, the stall runner gives him a smaller stuffed penguin as a prize. He feels a little bad that he could get you the bigger plush prize, but the second he hands it to you and tries to apologize, you just give him a kiss on the cheek that makes his face redder than before as you smile.

“This is perfect, thank you, Penguin! He’s adorable!”

You both decide to get some food after that, agreeing on a takoyaki stand nearby the game, Penguin stays to wait for your order while you wander off to another stall for a moment. When you meet back up, Penguin takes your hand again and starts to lead you somewhere you can sit to eat, picking a spot near a cheery tree so you can wait for the fireworks too.

“Did you find something at the stall you went to?”

“Oh, I did!” You give him a grin while you pull a small package from your sleeve and hold it out to him, “It’s a good luck charm for you!”

“You…you didn’t need to spend money on—”

“Well you got me the plushie…it’s only fair you get something too!”

He really can’t argue with you about that, he might even need that good luck charm after tonight. He feels like all his luck is gone anyway, just because you accepted his invitation. Penguin thanks you while he takes the charm, before offering your share of the takoyaki to you. His face goes bright red when you don’t take it from his hand and just eat it right off the skewer, still in his hand, telling him it’s one of the better takoyaki you’ve had.  You laugh a bit at his embarrassed face when you offer a piece to him, which he eats in the same way.

He's so cute.

The rest of your food gets forgotten at you start talking, both glad everyone made it through the fight against Kaido and Big Mom, relieved nothing happened to Law or the other captains, or any of your friends. There so much to be done before your crew takes off, but you’re happy to have a small break, a night to relax and do whatever, especially with Penguin. Once the fireworks start, you watch them for a bit before looking back to your date, smiling as you watch him instead.

You’re beyond happy he asked you out, you had planned to do so before he got to you the day before. The fact he actually asked surprised you, after all the mutual flirting and a few close first kisses, he finally decided to ask you on a date, you went to Ikkaku squealing and non-stop smiling the rest of the day. After the last few years of having a crush on him, it’s nice to see it’s returned, you aren’t worried you’ve wasted time getting to know him better.

You surprise Penguin by brushing a few cherry blossom petals off his hat before placing a kiss on his cheek and laying your head on his shoulder. He knows his face must be redder the candy apples being sold, but he doesn’t mind, not when he puts his arm around your shoulders and kisses your forehead in return.

“This was a nice first date.”

“Yeah…?” You nod as Penguin realizes something, “Wait, ‘first’?”

“Well, yeah,” you glance up in time to see Penguin’s face is red but he’s starting to smile, “I expect we’ll have another one in a few days or something, after we leave Wano. Seems like Captain doesn’t mind it so.”

You shrug while Penguin laughs a bit, nodding.

“We’ll definitely have another date.”

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Ed: just say it.

Ed: you bastard.

Ed: go on, Stede, just say it already and get it over with

Stede: love, I really don't know what you -

Ed: you can just say told you so. would serve me right. just say it, man, I can take it, just say it now so I'm not waiting for it all night

Stede: Ed, sweetheart, light of my life, I did tell you that eating a full pint of ice cream when you know you're lactose intolerant maybe wasn't the best idea

Ed: mhm, go on. laugh it up

Stede: BUT I don't see why I'd make fun of you when you're in pain?

Ed:

Ed: huh?

Stede: are you just waiting for me to make fun of you? Because that's not really something I want to do. You can choose what to put in your own body, and I don't want to make fun of you when that decision doesn't work out the way you'd hoped

Ed: but you told me so

Stede: yeah. I did.

Ed: babe, please, just get it over with -

Stede: sorry love. Not gonna happen. I'm not just waiting for excuses to make fun of you and make you feel bad, y'know?

Ed: you mean that?

Stede: every word

Ed: aww, babe, I love you so much, you're so good to me -

Stede: I love you too :D

Stede: but this might be a good point to mention that I'm not going to be the big spoon tonight. Because you are very gassy right now.

Ed: I'm not -

Stede: Ed darling it's awful. it's the worst.

Ed:

Stede: aww Ed don't pout

Ed, pouting: I see how it is. yeah man. love of your fuckin life gets a mild case of the farts and suddenly you don't want to cuddle him. even though he is SICK and SUFFERING. i get it. i see how it is Stede. this is what I'm worth to you I guess.

Stede: Ed I would do anything for you. but my eyes are literally watering right now

Ed: it's not that bad -

Stede: take the clothespin off your nose then. just take it off and see how you fare. I fucking dare you Ed.

Ed, pouting harder:

Stede: uh-huh. not that brave about your "mild case of the farts" all of a sudden I see