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drabblesandsnippets · 20 hours ago

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Whatever You Need

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

Summary: (3.3k) Bucky comforts you during a rough time.

Background: Reworking of this snippet. It’s been a rough few weeks (for a lot of folks, I’m sure) and I couldn’t stop thinking about this one. To everyone who struggles with their mental health, please be kind to yourself.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of insomnia, depression, anxiety. Angst. Fluff. Attempt at a bit of humor? Soft and sweet Bucky. Established relationship. Pet names (sweetheart, doll). Non-sexual nudity & touching. Kissing. Cuddling. Brief mention of/alluding to past sexual intimacy.

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You sit by the open window, breathing in the heavy scent of the steady rain, listening to the thunder getting closer. You should be in bed, with Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, snuggling you back to sleep. But, you can’t seem to make yourself go.

It’s been weeks of this. Insomnia. Depression. Anxiety. Every day, things feel just a bit more hopeless, like you’re barely treading water, surely to go under at any moment. Rationally, you know this will pass, as it always does, you just have to wait it out and hope you don’t drown in the meantime.

The closer the storm gets, the more anxious you feel. As if the energy of the weather is triggering your fight or flight response. You push open the window a bit more and scoot closer to the screen, imagining yourself out in the storm, getting soaked to the bone. At least then you’d have a reason for the way your body is currently shaking.

“Sweetheart,” the tenderness of Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you glance over to find him watching you from the doorway. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, wearing just his underwear and an obvious look of concern on his face.

You let out a heavy sigh and bite back the unnecessary apology, turning your attention back to the storm, a wave of guilt making your stomach flip. Bucky’s done everything he can to be patient with you, and never once has he made you feel like you’re a burden, but it’s taken an obvious toll on your relationship. The way you’ve kept him at arm’s length, scared to let him see how much you’re really struggling.

Your racing thoughts are interrupted again when Bucky comes closer, now barely a foot from the window nook where you sit. “I just wanna take care of you.” You turn your head to watch him slowly crouch down next to the seat, never once taking his eyes off you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

You immediately shake your head, needing him to understand it’s not about that. Your mouth opens, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. This is how it’s been for weeks. Words desperately trying to claw their way out, only to get stuck in your throat with no escape.

The frustration easily builds, fresh tears pricking your eyes, and you look away again, letting out a shuddering breath. Bucky should just give up on you. Leave you to wallow in self-pity and loneliness. He never will though, no matter how much you think you might deserve it.

“It’s also okay if you do want me to,” he continues, his hand slowly reaching out towards you, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the blanket wrapped around you, waiting for permission to touch you.

Bucky sees you, understands you in ways no one ever has. Your independence is your shield, something you’ve carefully cultivated. You’ve handled everything that life’s thrown at you on your own, and relying on someone else doesn’t come easy. It has absolutely nothing to do with him, but he can still be there for you, if you’ll let him.

“It’s okay if you need me to take care of you.”

His gentle assurance breaks your resolve, the tears currently blurring your vision spilling over your lashes, and the only thing you can do is bury your face in your hands, trying to hide from him. Bucky’s not one to give up so easily, choosing to join you, taking a spot on the edge of the seat instead of breaking the physical distance, his hand now inches from your sock-covered foot.

“You don’t have to look at me,” he promises, letting the words process before he continues, “I just want you to listen, okay? Can you do that, please?”

All you can manage is a slight nod as you try to stifle a sniffle, your breaths uneven, willing yourself to stop the fresh tears threatening to build.

No matter how many times you’ve been down this road - both alone and together - it never seems to get easier. Especially when Bucky’s male ego tells him he’s supposed to fix this, that it’s his job to put you back together and all you have to do is let him.

It’s a ridiculous notion, one he does his best to ignore, choosing instead to tell you, “I know it’s scary to admit you’re not okay, especially when you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening inside your own head. So, I’m not expecting you to have the energy to talk about anything tonight, I just want you to know that whatever you need from me, you have it sweetheart, even if you’re never able to tell me what’s going on.”

You try to fight through the rush of emotions, his words bringing a fresh wave of tears, your body aching for his comfort. You’re so tired of being strong, of forcing yourself to power through, pretending it’s not as bad as it seems. Bucky’s your one safe place in this chaotic world and for a fleeting moment, you have the courage to bridge the gap, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit as you let your hand drop towards him.

He takes it for what it is, catching your hand before it can fall to his thigh and brings your palm to his lips, placing a sweet kiss right in the center. At the feel of your pulse fluttering from his simple touch, Bucky’s smile grows and he’s encouraging you closer with a soft, “co’mere,” his metal hand sliding along the outside of your arm to help guide you.

Pulling you into his lap, your soft curves molding perfectly to the harder planes of his body, Bucky wraps you up in his warm embrace, cradling your head against his shoulder. Your tears come more freely now and for a while, you just sit there, listening to the steady heartbeat of the man you’re lucky to call yours, the sound a gentle reminder that you’re not alone, regardless of what your brain tries to convince you of sometimes.

It’s not until your breath begins to even out, your sniffles slowly subsiding, that Bucky softly breaks the silence to ask you, “How do ya feel about a bath, sweetheart?”

A soft noise of protest comes out muffled against his skin, your arms tightening around his torso, content to just stay here as long as he’ll let you. Still, you can’t help asking, “is this your way of saying I smell?” It hasn’t been that long since you forced yourself to shower.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes your body, your own smile building in return and he wastes no time in nuzzling your hair, his head dipping to dramatically sniff along your jaw and neck. “Nope,” he says matter-of-factly, meeting your gaze with a grin before repeating the action along the other side, drawing an unmistakable laugh from you. “You smell just as good as you always do,” he promises with a tender kiss right below your ear. “But, a bath might make you feel a little better.”

There are a multitude of reasons to say no - the energy it takes just to get in, the stark contrast of the cool air after getting out, having to dry off every inch of your skin before you can even think about getting into bed, just to name a few. All it takes is one look at Bucky and you’re realizing none of them matter because he already knows.

His assurance that you won’t have to lift a finger comes quick, reminding you that he’s here to take care of you, in whatever way you need. He’ll even carry you, if you’ll let him.

To both of your surprise, it doesn’t take much for you to agree and the moment you do, Bucky seeks permission to kiss you, showing his appreciation, murmuring words of adoration against your lips. He takes a moment to savor the intimate connection, silently thanking the universe for bringing you to him, for allowing him the privilege of loving you.

He drops you off in the bedroom, resecuring the blanket still wrapped around your body, convincing you to rest in bed while he draws a bath. Once he’s gone, you actually start to doze off, snuggled with Bucky’s pillow, the distant thrum of the bathtub filling a nice break from the near constant rush of thoughts trying to occupy your mind.

When he returns, the vision of you resting peacefully is almost enough for him to break his promise to wake you. He’d happily sit watch, keep an eye on you for the rest of the night to ensure your sleep went undisturbed.

It’s the last thing you’d want though. You’d wake disoriented, feeling constricted in your clothing, worse off than you were when you fell asleep.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky shakes his head, a regretful smile crossing his face as he reaches out to stroke your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You ready?”

His voice is barely audible, your mind not comprehending his touch until his beard is tickling your nose, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your response comes in the form of a confused grunt, your face scrunched, hands reaching up to touch him.

“The bath’s ready,” he explains, his smile evident in his tone, giving you one last lingering kiss before pulling back. “Are you ready, or do ya wanna rest a bit longer?”

It’d be easy to just stay here, let Bucky undress you and put you under the covers, your body craving rest. It won’t last though. You’ll start to get restless, toss and turn in hopes of finding a better position, all the while your mind will refuse to quiet, growing more on edge until you’re forced out of bed yet again.

A bath isn’t a cure-all, and maybe it won’t really help, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. To let yourself be vulnerable, no matter how scary it feels.

Bucky effortlessly carries you from bed into the dimly lit bathroom, the heater already keeping the room relatively warm, ready to be adjusted when it’s time to get out. After setting you on your feet next to the tub, he gives you another reassuring smile and starts to undress you, careful not to snag your shirt on your hair.

You have to close your eyes when he kneels to remove your sweatpants, your body fighting the urge to take over and do it yourself. It’s far from the first time Bucky’s undressed you - and it certainly won’t be the last - it’s just not usually under these circumstances.

The lingering tension starts to fade when he looks up, his obvious love for you shining through even your most persistent insecurities. Once he’s freed you of the rest of your clothes, he helps you in, the oversized tub providing more than enough space for you to sink down, the water coming up to your chest.

Bucky takes his time, giving you a minute to adjust to the heat of the water while he gathers the necessary supplies, the bath pillow already secure behind your head. All you can do is watch him, your throat tight with emotion, tears starting to prick your eyes, the nagging voice in your head trying to convince you that you don’t deserve someone like him.

Biting back the urge to tell him what’s going through your mind, you blink back the tears, your eyes cast to the ceiling for a brief moment. He gives you more time than necessary, his focus on dipping the fresh washcloth in the water, then reaching for the body wash to pour a generous amount.

Seeing him preparing to bathe you makes the moment fully come into view and a soft, incredulous laugh leaves you, “are we really doing this?” You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so naked and exposed, despite all the sinful things you’ve let this man do to you.

Bucky’s grin does wonders for your anxiety, as does his soft assurance of, “not if you don’t think it’ll help.” He tilts his head, holding your gaze, ensuring you hear his next words, “But, if it’s because you think I don’t wanna do this, or I’m not gonna enjoy every single second of it? Doll, come on, this is me.”

His words cause another exhale of a laugh and a blush spreads across your cheeks, Bucky’s smiling growing wider, his tongue peaking out to tease along his bottom lip.

“I’m getting to take care of you, be near you, touch you. I live for this shit,” he laughs, his brows raised to drive home his point. “I’m obsessed with you, remember? I’d literally drink your bath water.”

You barely have time to react before he’s leaning forward, having every intention to prove it to you. Your wet hands reach out just in time to push against his head and shoulder before his face gets any closer to the water, a loud laugh spilling out of you, “What- Stop, Bucky, oh my god!”

His laughter joins yours and he allows you to turn his head at the last moment, taking the opportunity to close the distance to share a kiss, Bucky smiling against your lips. You can’t resist keeping your hands on him, the water dripping down his bare torso, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own hand reaching out to cup your jaw.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promises, peppering kisses across your cheeks and forehead, ending with one on the tip of your nose. Once he’s sure your worries and insecurities are starting to fade, he reaches for the washcloth again, telling you, “Now, just relax and let me take care of my girl, okay?”

A playful roll of your eyes and a smile you don’t even try to hide as you tell him, “fine,” begrudgingly doing as requested. Bucky takes it in stride, his smile never faltering, happily reaching for your arm to start taking care of you in one of the few ways you’ve let him recently.

He can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity, taking his time to bathe you, massaging your muscles in the process, his movements smooth along your soap-slicked skin. By the time he’s given each limb equal attention, you’re putty in his hands and you make no objections when the washcloth dips under the water to wash your stomach and hips.

Your eyes remain closed for the most part, Bucky’s occasional glance telling him you’re enjoying this far more than you anticipated. He makes a mental note to convince you to make this a regular thing, not just when you’re going through a rough time. You deserve to be pampered every day, but he’ll settle for at least once a month.

Not missing how careful Bucky is as he moves higher, the washcloth not lingering on your breasts any longer than necessary, you finally open your eyes, blinking slowly up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft smile as he starts to wash your collarbone, the warm water calling you to sink lower, as if it might erase the clinging numbness that refuses to dissipate.

The words tumble out of you before you can overthink them, your question catching Bucky off guard, his hand stilling on the edge of the tub. “What if I never get better?”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs with a slight shake of his head, his brow furrowing to match the frown beginning to appear. Your mouth opens to respond, the words failing you before they can even form, wishing you could rewind time to prevent the worried look on his face.

He breaks the silence before you have to, offering you an empathetic smile as he asks, “Can I get in with you?” It’s the last thing you’re expecting as a response and it catches you off guard in such a way that your mind stops racing long enough to scoot forward, making room for him.

There’s no time to waste, Bucky quickly discarding his underwear in order to join you, the oversized tub giving him space to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. With his arms wrapped protectively around you, he kisses your shoulder, rubbing his beard along your skin in hopes to ground you, “This isn’t going to last forever. Eventually, something’s gonna shift and you’ll start to feel better.”

Bucky’s not wrong. What you’re experiencing right now, regardless of how long it’s lasted, won't be forever and things will go back to normal at some point. Right now isn’t what you’re referring to though. With a heavy breath, you pull your knees up, letting the air hit your skin, goosebumps threatening to spread. “But that never lasts either.”

He can hear the emotion in your voice, the tears starting to build again, and it makes his chest ache, wishing he could ease your pain. “Maybe not,” he agrees, keeping his tone gentle, “but that’s okay. It’s all part of being human, sweetheart. We have good days, and we have bad days, and no, I’m not keeping score.”

An exhale of a laugh leaves you at the same time a tear escapes your lashes, causing you to automatically wipe it away, your wet hand leaving several drops of water in its place. Bucky gives you the space to collect yourself, using the opportunity to grab the washcloth and bodywash again, determined to complete his mission of bathing you.

You welcome the distraction, leaning forward to give him better access, his fingers soon working out the tension in your back. Your delicate mental state leaves you vulnerable, Bucky’s touch sending you further down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts, the once receding emotions returning tenfold, leaving you crying.

“You deserve better than this.”

“Hey,” Bucky soothes, gathering you in his arms to pull you flush against his body, your weight welcome on his lap, your face pressed against his neck, tears mixing with the water. “There is no one out there better for me than you,” he promises. “You’re it for me. You and your gorgeous mind and insanely hot body, and yes - all your ‘issues’,” he grins, kissing your temple.

There’s nothing you can do except sigh, your breath shuddering out of you, your hand pressed against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. What he’s saying is starting to break through, reminding you what it’s like when things don’t feel so heavy. How easy it is to be loved by him when you’re not so scared of being a burden.

“I just want you to be happy,” you manage to whisper, working past the emotions trying to overwhelm you again.

“Good,” Bucky’s quick to respond, his fingers on your chin tilting your face up to meet his warm gaze. “‘Cause that’s exactly how you make me feel.” He can’t help but shake his head at you, his smile growing, as if you don’t realize how ridiculous you’re being, “Every day you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Nothing is ever going to change that. Got it?”

Another heavy breath, and a tear that Bucky casually wipes away, but this time it’s accompanied by a twitch of a smile, the waves of anxiety starting to recede. “Got it,” you whisper, meeting him halfway for a kiss, solidifying your devotion to each other, your promise to work as a team to get through whatever comes, without pushing the other too far out of your comfort zone.

It’ll take time, and it won’t be perfect, but at least you’ll have the rest of your lives to keep trying.

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v6quewrlds · 20 hours ago

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❝ n side, a. iosivas. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it's the night after the night that didn't happen. andrei is on a mission to make it happen.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: listen... that summary makes zero sense because i'm finishing this at one in the morning. this is the second part to bad liar <3 this is also long asf, been writing this for nearly a month lol

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. friends to lovers, andrei is a simp part 2, language, college setting, first dates, first times, protected sex, oral (male receiving), slight overstim, fingering.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei iosivas x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 7.8k.

The TV's blue glow had been replaced with the soft light of dawn peeking through your curtains before you arose. You blinked awake to find Andrei's arms still wrapped around you, his face smushed cutely against the pillow that somehow ended up on his side during the night. You lay there, watching the rise and fall of his chest, the quiet of the early morning a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The room was still, your friends sprawled across the floor and chair like discarded ragdolls.

Carefully, you remove yourself from his embrace, not wanting to wake him yet. You padded over to the window and pushed the curtains aside before lifting the window open, the cool morning air brushing against your skin. The sky was a soft pink, hinting at the promise of a beautiful autumn day. You felt a pang of guilt for your skipped MCAT studies but pushed it aside, telling yourself that one night off wouldn't hurt.

Kaia stirred from the chair, her eyes squinting against the light. "What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice groggy.

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "A little past six."

Kaia groaned, rubbing her eyes. "Why the fuck are you up so early? You don't have class until 10."

You shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." You glanced back at Andrei, still peacefully asleep. "Besides, I need to get ready for that MCAT prep class I'm taking."

Kaia rolled her eyes. "Always the overachiever," she teased, stretching her limbs. "But seriously, are you okay with all this?" She nodded towards the makeshift camp of sleeping bodies scattered around the room. "I know it gets overwhelming sometimes when everyone crashes here. I don’t want you to feel like we’re taking advantage of you."

You couldn't help but smile as you studied the scene. "Yeah, it's fine. They're all just comfortable." You turned back to the window, the cool breeze from the opened window ruffling your hair. "And honestly, it's kind of nice to have everyone so close."

Kaia sat up, her eyes searching yours. "And what about Andrei?" she whispered, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Y'all was looking real comfortable last night. Kissin' and shit in the middle of the room." Her tone changing to poke fun at her friend's change in behavior.

You felt the blush creep up your neck. "It's not like that," you protested weakly, but Kaia only giggled, not fooled for a second. "Okay, it's kind of like that." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Kaia hummed in response, standing up and walking over to poke at Faith who was drooling on Javi's chest.

"Kai," you hissed as she turned around. "Pinky promise you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

Your best friend's eyes widened and she leaned in closer, holding up her pinky. "Pinky promise," she whispered back, a grin spreading across her face.

"I wanna fuck him, so bad," you confessed in a whisper, your eyes on Andrei. You could barely get the full sentence out before the two of you dissolved into hushed laughter. Kaia's head fell back as she tried to silence her giggles. "Girl, I was so close to jumping his bones last night," you continued, her voice a mix of amazement and frustration.

Kaia gave you a knowing look. "Why didn't you?"

"Because, Kaia," you whispered, "I don't know if he was just drunk or if he really means it. I don't want to mess up our friendship."

Kaia rolled her eyes playfully. "You've been crushing on him for months, he's been obsessed with you for years, and now you're gonna get all 'what if' on me? If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't have been so persistent all this time," she whispered back, her voice filled with amusement and a hint of understanding.

You sighed, leaning your forehead against the cool glass of the window. "But what if we do it and it's terrible? What if we ruin everything?"

Kaia's eyes softened as she leaned against the wall. "You're the smartest girl I know," she said, her voice low enough not to wake the others. "You'll figure it out, keep him in line. Just go for it."

Your gaze drifted back to Andrei. He had rolled over in his sleep and was now facing you, his features relaxed and peaceful. You felt a warmth spread through your chest. "You think?" you whispered.

Kaia nodded firmly. "I know. Just don't overthink it, bae. Sometimes, you just gotta take the risk." She yawned and stood up fully, stretching her arms over her head. "Do you have anything to eat in here or did they eat everything?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "We should pop into Dunkin', grab some breakfast." You turned to grab your keys, carefully stepping over Malik's outstretched legs. "Malik and Faith both have an 8AM, so they'll probably be up soon anyways."

The two of you made your way out of the dorm, the brisk morning air a welcome dose of reality after the hazy warmth of the night before. The quiet hallways were a stark contrast to the loud festivities you had left behind in the clubs. As you walked to and from the Dunkin' Donuts, your mind swirled with thoughts of Andrei and what your relationship might become.

When you returned, the room was a little more chaotic. Malik was up, rummaging through your mini-fridge for something edible, while Javi and Faith were still entangled at the foot of the bed, their breathing steady and deep. Andrei was sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone with a sleepy smile on his face. He looked up as you and Kaia entered, his eyes immediately finding yours.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill at his greeting. It felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room. "Good morning," you replied, handing him a bag of his go-to sandwich—a sausage, egg, and cheese on a croissant—and an apple juice. "How did you sleep?"

He took the food with a grateful smile, his eyes lingering on yours before glancing down. "Surprisingly well," he said, his cheeks coloring slightly. "Your bed's pretty comfy."

"Do you got food for me, too?" Malik called out from the mini-fridge, his voice muffled by the fridge door.

You tossed him a bag with a roll of your eyes. "You know the drill, Malik. You eat then you get the fuck out."

Malik caught the bag with one hand and pulled out a donut with the other. "But I'm your favorite," he protested with a mouthful.

"Not after last night," Javi retorted with a laugh as he was finally shaken out of his sleep from the smell of greasy breakfast food. Faith stretched, looking around the room with bleary eyes.

You balled up a napkin and tossed it at Javi playfully. "You're all my favorite, but you're all still leaving after you eat," you said, your smile not quite reaching your eyes as you turned back to Andrei.

The room grew quieter as you all ate, the occasional laugh piercing through the silence. As you all finished, you cleared your throat, looking at the clock. "I really do need to get ready for that MCAT class," you said, trying to keep you voice light. "So love you all but please leave."

Andrei took the hint and stood up, stretching. "Alright, I'll walk you there, it's on my way to my dorm," he offered, his voice hopeful. You felt a thrill at his words, the promise of a moment alone with him making your heart race. Kaia smirked as she watched them, nudging Malik who was still scarfing down the last of his food.

"Come on y'all, let's get going," Kaia said, shooing the rest of the group out of the room. "We don't want to ruin their morning after."

Malik and Javi groaned, reluctantly peeling themselves off the floor. Faith giggled, her cheeks flushed as she looked at Javi. "You two are adorable," she whispered to you with a knowing wink as she slid past. Andrei could only blush to himself as he avoided eye contact with the other guys who made kissy faces as they left.

Once the room had emptied, Andrei helped you gather the trash and empty shot glasses scattered from your night of partying. The air was charged with an electricity that made your skin tingle. As you worked, your bodies brushed against each other, sending a thrill through you that you hadn't felt in a long time.

When the room was back to its semi-tidy state, Andrei turned to you, the playfulness in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach flip. "So, about that date," he began, his voice low and earnest. "I wasn't just saying that because I was drunk or because everyone else is in love or whatever. I've wanted to ask you out for a while."

You felt a mix of excitement and nerves wash over you. "I know," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've noticed." You took a step closer to him, your eyes locked. "But why didn't you?"

Andrei took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. "I was fuckin’ terrified," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly with a nervous laugh. "Afraid of rejection, afraid of messing up our friendship, afraid of what everyone else would think."

You reached out and placed your hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "But we're all adults, right?" you said, your voice gentle. "We can handle it."

Andrei's eyes were sincere, void of any signs of doubt. "Yeah," he said, his voice firm. "We can handle it."

You both knew that saying it was one thing, but navigating the murky waters of a relationship while balancing school and your social lives would be another challenge entirely. But in that moment, with the sun just starting to peek through the curtains, you felt like you could conquer the world. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with excitement. "Let's do it."

Andrei's smile grew wider as he took your hand in his. "It's a date," he said, raising your wrist to his lips and giving it a gentle kiss. You shared a moment, your eyes locked, the anticipation of your newfound romance palpable in the air.

"Stop that," you said, giggling and pulling your hand away, though you couldn't hide the smile on your lips.

Andrei grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, this?" He leaned in and kissed your wrist again, sending a jolt of desire through you.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tugged upwards. "Yeah, that." You stepped back and began to gather your textbooks, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat every time your fingers brushed together.

Andrei took the hint and grabbed his shoes, laughing quietly. "Alright, alright, got you blushin' and shit." He nudged you playfully as he slipped them on.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating as you stepped into the hallway, leaving the confines of your dorm behind. The quiet of the early morning was a stark contrast to the noise of the night before. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your hands occasionally brushing against each other before Andrei gave into the temptation, taking your hand as you descended the stairs.

As you reached the bottom, your heart fluttered when Andrei leaned in and whispered, "Thank you for not throwing me out with the trash." His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You playfully swatted his arm. "You know you're not trash, you're more like a recyclable," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light despite the weight of your newfound feelings.

The walk to class was filled with easy conversation and occasional glances that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The leaves crunched under your feet as the cool October air kissed your cheeks, a perfect backdrop to your blossoming romance. As you approached the biology building, Andrei paused, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"So, tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful. "You're free, right?"

"I am not," you laughed, your eyes sparkling. "But I'll make an exception for you." You had a study group for the MCAT later tonight, but you figured you could spare a couple of hours.

Andrei's face lit up. "Really? Does that mean I'm special?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide your smile. "Bye Andrei," you said, pulling your hand away gently. "See you tonight." You turned to enter the building, feeling his eyes on you until you disappeared from his view.

The day passed in a blur of classes and study groups. You couldn't help but think about the date you had agreed to, your thoughts drifting to what you should wear and what you would do. You had texted Andrei all day, your messages light and flirty, filled with anticipation for the night ahead. Finally, the evening came and with it, the realization that you had to tell your study group you couldn't make it. You bit your lip nervously as you sent the text, half expecting them to be upset, but they only responded with a string of texts congratulating you on taking a well-deserved break.

When Andrei arrived to pick you up, he was dressed casually in a short-sleeved button-up and jeans, looking like he had put in more effort than your usual hangouts. His dark hair was gelled, the straight strands tamed to your liking. His eyes swept over you, taking in your own carefully chosen outfit of straight leg jeans and a square-neck top, giving you an appreciative nod. "You look amazing," he said, his voice soft with nerves. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck, but you took his compliment as he pulled you into a hug.

The two of you walked to the local Indian restaurant that you had both mentioned you loved but had never gone to together. The warm glow of the lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, mingling with the cool evening air. Inside, the smell of sizzling meats and ginger filled the space, making your mouth water. Andrei held the door open for you, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hand lingered on the small of your back as he guided you to a cozy booth.

"Thank you," you said, slipping into the booth across from Andrei.

The conversation flowed easily over dinner, filled with stories from your classes and shared laughs at the absurdity of your college experiences. Andrei had always been a gentle conversationalist, listening intently to every word you spoke and responding with thoughtfulness that made you feel seen. Despite the three years you had known each other, it was as if you were discovering each other for the first time, peeling back layers that had been hidden beneath the surface of friendship.

"So, what's your go-to?" Andrei asked, his eyes scanning the extensive menu.

You thought for a moment before saying, "Butter chicken and garlic naan, every time." You glanced up to find him looking at you with an amused expression. "What?"

Andrei chuckled. "It's just that everyone says that. It's like the safest bet here."

You scoffed playfully. "Maybe it's because it's the best thing on the menu."

The waiter arrived, and you placed your orders. The conversation turned to your costumes and the wild night you had shared. Andrei leaned in, his eyes twinkling. "Javi and Faith disappeared for, like, two hours, bro." You couldn't help but laugh, remembering your friends' unabashed PDA. "They're so in love," you said, a hint of wistfulness in your tone.

Andrei reached across the table and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "But we had fun too," he said, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. You nodded, smiling, and you shared a moment of understanding that this was just the beginning of something special between you.

"Yeah, we did," you said, your voice a bit softer. Andrei's touch was reassuring, a reminder that you weren't alone in navigating this new chapter of your changing relationship.

The waiter returned drink refills, breaking the momentary silence. Andrei took a sip of his water, his eyes gazing into yours. "So, what do you want to do after dinner?"

You felt a thrill at the casualness of the question. "There's an after dinner?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. Andrei chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

"Always," he said, his smile warm. "But, I was thinking something low-key. Maybe we could grab some ice cream and walk around the quad?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

The rest of dinner passed by in a blur of delicious food and easy conversation. You shared stories, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that was both familiar and new. When the plates were cleared and the check paid, Andrei suggested you go to the local ice cream parlor that was open late for the Princeton crowd.

As you stepped outside into the brisk night air, Andrei put his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace. The quad was lit by soft, yellow lamps that cast long shadows across the cobblestone walkways. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the quiet night as you made your way to the ice cream shop.

The bell chimed as you pushed open the door, and the familiar smell of waffle cones and sugary treats greeted the two of you. The place was mostly empty, save for a few other students cramming for exams or enjoying a late-night study break. Andrei ordered mint chocolate chip while you went with your usual, a classic vanilla on a waffle cone. You found a small table by the window and sat down, watching the occasional person stroll by.

You took a bite of your ice cream, savoring the sweetness that melted on your tongue. "So, what came over you last night? You've had this crush since freshman year?" you asked playfully, nudging him with your elbow.

Andrei's cheeks reddened slightly, and he took a moment before responding. "I don't know. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I've seen you with other guys, and it always made me feel... jealous, I guess." He took a deep breath and met your gaze. "But when you walked out in your costume, looking like that..." He trailed off, his voice thick with unspoken feelings.

You felt your cheeks warm at his admission. You had never seen this soft, romantic side of Andrei, and it was endearing. You leaned in closer, your voice low and earnest. "So you liked it?"

Andrei swallowed hard before nodding. "Yeah, I liked it a lot," he said, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "A lot," he emphasized with a laugh. You couldn't help but join in, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

The two of you enjoyed your ice cream, sharing bites and smiles, until the cold started to seep into your bones. Andrei suggested he walk you back to your dorm, and you agreed, your heart fluttering at the prospect of more time together. As you strolled under the arching branches of the trees, your laughter mingling with the rustle of leaves, You felt a sense of peace you hadn't experienced in weeks. The stress of your schoolwork had momentarily faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence of Andrei beside you.

When you reached the steps of your dorm, you turned to face you. "Thank you for dinner," you said, your voice a mix of shyness and sincerity.

Andrei's gaze searched yours, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand as he held onto your fingers. "It was my pleasure," he replied, taking a step closer. His eyes flickered to your lips, biting at his own.

"Are you gonna kiss me, Iosivas?" You teased, your voice low and playful. Andrei's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was a perfect blend of sweet and hungry. You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck as his free hand rested on your lower back, pulling you closer. The night air was cool, but the warmth from his body and the heat of your kiss made you feel as if you were floating.

When you finally pulled apart, Andrei's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. You felt none. Instead, you felt a thrilling rush of excitement for the future of your relationship. "Come upstairs?" you whispered, your heart racing. Andrei nodded, and you climbed the stairs to your dorm hand in hand, the weight of your decision hanging in the air.

In your room, the quiet was a stark contrast to the noise of the previous night. The lights were soft, and the space felt intimate. The two of you kicked off your shoes before you moved to your vinyl rack, selecting a record to play on your vintage record player. The sound of Stevie Wonder filled the room, a soft melody that seemed to wrap around you as he stood there awkwardly, unsure of what came next.

You laughed as you turned back to see Andrei standing there, his eyes wide. "You okay?" you asked, taking his hand and leading him to your bed. You both sat down, and you scooted closer, the mattress squeaking slightly beneath you.

Andrei took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, just... I never thought we'd actually ever do this," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands cupping his face. "Well, we're doing it now," you whispered, feeling the tension between you build.

Andrei's hands found their way around your waist, his grip firm but gentle. You kissed slowly, exploring each other's mouths, tasting the sweetness of the mint chocolate chip and vanilla on your tongues. Your hands traveled up to his neck, playing with the hair at the nape, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense and relaxing with every touch.

The record played on, Stevie Wonder's voice serenading your tentative exploration. Andrei pulled away to look at you, his eyes searching for permission. You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. He leaned in again, kissing you more urgently this time. His hands began to roam, tracing the lines of your body, his thumbs grazing the tops of your thighs. The heat from his touch was making it increasingly difficult for you to think about anything other than him. One of his hands reached for your jean-clad thigh, his fingertips brushing searing heat into your skin.

Your breath hitched, and you leaned into him, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warmth of his bare chest. His skin was smooth, his muscles firm under your touch. He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You kissed deeper, your bodies moving closer together as if magnetized. Andrei's hand pulled the thigh under his grasp over his lap, shifting your weight so that you were straddling him. The music continued setting the tempo for your escalating passion.

Breaking away from the kiss, Andrei looked into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and anticipation. "Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. You nodded, your breath shallow and your chest heaving. You leaned back slightly, giving him the space he needed to remove your shirt. The cool air kissed your skin, and you watched as his eyes darkened with want.

"Damn," Andrei murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He reached up, tracing the edge of your lacy bra with the thumbs. You felt a rush of heat pool in your stomach, and you bit your lower lip to stifle a moan. His attention was pulled to the roll of your hips as you whimpered, the fabric of your jeans rubbing against him deliciously.

Andrei leaned back, his eyes stuck on yours as he unzipped your pants. You helped him slide them down, and you were left in just your panties and bra. He took a moment to drink you in, his eyes lingering on the way your breasts heaved with every breath you took. "You're so beautiful," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as you felt his hands skim your skin. You leaned in and kissed him again, your hands working at the buttons of his shirt. You were both fumbling, a mix of excitement and nerves getting the better of you. The fabric of his shirt gave way, revealing his well-defined chest. His abs rippled under the soft light, and you couldn't help but trace the lines of his stomach muscles with your fingernails, causing him to suck in a breath. You ran your hands over the ink on his shoulder, feeling his muscles under your fingertips.

You moved together in a silent dance of desire, your kisses growing more urgent as your hands explored. You, growing impatient with the layers between the two of you, pushed Andrei's torso back onto the bed. He chuckled against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. With a playful smirk, you trailed your kisses down his chest, your teeth lightly grazing his skin, making him hiss in pleasure.

Your eyes searched for any sign of protest, but all you saw was the fire that matched the one burning within you. You continued to work your kisses downward, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. With a groan, Andrei lifted his hips, helping you free him from the fabric of his boxer briefs. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his tip glistening with need, and you couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him there softly, causing him to jolt in surprise.

"Shit!" Andrei cursed, his voice strained with pleasure, as your lips wrapped around his dick. You giggled against him, feeling empowered by his reaction. You took the angry red tip into your mouth, your eyes still locked on his, watching as his expression morphed from shock to pure ecstasy. His hands found your braids, his grip tightening as you moved your head up and down, your tongue swirling around him. His breath grew ragged, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him.

He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he kept your hair out of your face, thrusting his hips upward to meet your mouth. You took him deeper, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue playing with the vein on the underside of his shaft. Your hand slipped inside his boxers, your palm cupping his balls, rolling them gently as you sucked him off.

You released him with a pop, looking up at him with a seductive heat in your eyes, watching his face contort in agonizing pleasure as you began to stroke him with a self-indulgent smile. “Fuck, princess,” his eyes opened as he released a loud moan, groaning again as his thighs trembled under your touch.

You giggled at the pet name tumbling from his pink lips. You dipped your head, your lips closing around his tip, your hand still moving to jerk his shaft up and down steadily. His eyes rolled back as his hands stilled, their grip tightening on your braids and keeping them back in a makeshift ponytail.

Andrei couldn't believe it. The girl he'd crushed on for so long was giving him the best blowjob he had ever had. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing with every stroke of your tongue. He didn't want it to end, but he also couldn't wait to be inside you. With a reluctant groan, he pulled you back up and kissed you deeply, tasting himself on your lips.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you straddled him, your own need growing more intense with every passing second. You reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, tossing it to him with a grin. Andrei's hands trembled slightly as he nervously struggled with the packaging.

You giggled as you watched him, your nails gently scratching at his chest in an attempt to ground yourself. "Let me," you offered. "Here," you said, taking the condom from his hand.

You tore open the packet with your teeth and slid it onto him with a smooth, practiced ease that made Andrei's eyes widen in amazement. He watched as you positioned yourself above him, one hand on his chest for balance as the other trailed down to pull your underwear to the side.

"Ready?" You asked, your voice husky and filled with anticipation. Andrei nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as you lowered your weight onto him. He felt himself enter you, the tightness of you making him groan. You were wet and hot, and the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His hands found your hips, holding you still against him as you both adjusted to the feeling.

"Fuck, yes," Andrei murmured as you began to move again, sinking deeper onto him, taking him in inch by inch. Your eyes never left his, watching the pleasure etch lines across his face. When you were fully seated on him, you both took a moment to savor the feeling of your bodies joined together, the culmination of your years of flirtation and unspoken longing.

"I'm not gonna last," Andrei warned, his voice strained with desire as he watched your body begin to move.

You smiled, your rhythm slow and deliberate. "You don't have to," you whispered, your voice a sultry purr in his ear, "Just feel me."

And so he did. Andrei felt every inch of you as you began to ride him, your movements growing more urgent with every stroke. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving half-moons in his skin. His own hips began to lift to meet yours, the base of his cock smacking against you with each thrust. The friction was almost too much, and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from losing it too quickly.

The music played on, the beat syncing with your movements. As you bounced on him, Andrei's hands wandered to your breasts, tweaking your nipples through the lace of your bra. You gasped as a strap fell down your shoulder, your head rolling back in pleasure. He sat up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, his mouth finding your neck. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access as his teeth scraped your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Your breathing grew ragged as your pace increased. The bed creaked beneath you, melding with the rhythm of your bodies. Andrei could feel himself getting closer to the edge, his core tightening in anticipation. Your walls tightened around him, your breath hitching as you felt his strength shift to guide your hips, setting a tempo that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Andrei," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders as you leaned back, your arms reaching back to rest on his outstretched legs. Your breasts bounced with each upward movement on his lap as he controlled your pace, brown eyes connecting in the heat of your passion. His eyes trailed down to your chest, watching the mesmerizing sight, his arms flexing as he slowed the speed of your hips, taking a moment to capture your lips in a kiss as he rocked your hips agonizingly slow over his.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your breath coming in short gasps as you felt yourself building up to the edge. Andrei's kisses grew more demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as his hands moved down to your ass, guiding your movements. He felt your walls tighten around him, the wetness of your sex coating his dick, and he knew you were close.

"Fuck—oh, yeah, yes," Andrei groaned against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. His grip tightened as you began to bounce faster, your breath coming in ragged pants. You could feel him twitch inside you, his hips becoming more erratic as he lost control.

The tension grew, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Your moans grew louder, filling the room. Andrei couldn't hold back anymore, his head dipped to press his lips to the valley between your breasts. With a stifled moan against your chest, he buried himself deep inside you, feeling his orgasm rip through his body and spill warmly into the condom.

"Oh, shit," Andrei breathed out, his body trembling as he held onto you tightly, feeling the aftershocks of his climax. "Gimme a second," he managed, his chest heaving. You giggled as you ran your nails up and down his back, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own. You leaned down and kissed him softly, your breath warm against his cheek.

Your own orgasm was just around the corner. Andrei could feel it in the way you clenched around him, your breath hitching in your throat. He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he lifted you from his dick. He turned your body, pressing your back against his chest as he fell back against the sheets of your bed with an athleticism that should not have surprised you as much as it did.

"What are you doing?" You gasped, feeling a new wave of arousal as Andrei's strong hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open. He kissed your neck, shushing you with a gentle nip of his teeth. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

With your legs open wide, Andrei's hands moved to caress your inner thighs, his fingers lightly brushing against your slick folds as he pulled your panties to the side once again. He watched your face contort with pleasure as he touched you, exploring you with a gentle curiosity. The pad of his finger found your clit, and you gasped, arching your back into his touch. He circled the sensitive bud, feeling your pulse beneath his fingertip.

Your breath grew shallow as Andrei's ministrations grew more intense. Your hips began to rock against his hand, seeking relief from the delicious pressure building within you. He could feel the heat of you against him, your body begging for more. His mouth found your neck, his lips nipping and kissing the soft skin as he worked his thumb in slow, deliberate circles.

"Fuck, Andrei," you whispered, your voice thick with pleasure. Your head raised briefly to watch as a finger dipped to enter you, the wetness of your arousal making it easy for him to slide in and out of you. He curled his finger inside you before adding another one, feeling your tightness clench around him and your breath hitched.

"Feels good?" he asked, his voice gruff as he watched your reaction. You could only moan in response, your head falling back again. The sensation was maddening, the way he filled you up and then left you empty only to fill you again. One of your hands found his thick hair, your nails scratching gently at his scalp as the other reached down to guide his fingers inside of you, pressing it harder into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Andrei's unoccupied hand moved from its spot on your dark thighs, running upwards to squeeze your breasts, his thumb playing with your nipple, the lace scraping against your skin.

Your movements grew more frantic, your breathing shallower, your body writhing against him. He felt you tense, your pussy contracting around his fingers, and knew you were close. He picked up his pace, his thumb flicking your clit in a way that made your back arch and your toes curl.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Andrei whispered in your ear, "Go ahead, princess." His voice was a command wrapped in velvet, sending a shiver down your spine. With one final thrust of his fingers, you came apart. Your body tensed, muscles contracting, as you climaxed around his fingers. Your moan was muffled by your hand, your eyes screwed shut. He watched you, fascinated by the way you came apart in his arms, the way you clenched around him, your body begging for more.

As you rode out your orgasm, your breathing slowing, Andrei pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to your mouth.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his dark gaze. Without hesitation, you took his fingers into your mouth, suckling them clean. The taste was foreign yet intimate, and it only served to make you want more of him.

The two of you lay there, panting and sweaty, your bodies tangled together. Andrei's arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as if you were something precious, something to be cherished. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time. It was more than just the afterglow of great sex; it was a connection that you hadn't realized was missing in your life.

You stayed that way for a while, just basking in the intimacy of the moment, your hearts beating in sync with the fading bass of the music outside. Eventually, you turned your body over in his arms to face him, your hand tracing the lines of his jaw, your thumb brushing against his full bottom lip.

Andrei brought you back down, pressing your front against his. "Thank you, for this," he said, his voice gruff and sincere. He kissed your forehead, your cheek, and finally your lips. It was a gentle kiss, one that spoke of affection and something deeper than the physical connection you just shared.

Your heart swelled, and you kissed him back with equal passion. "Thank you," you murmured, your eyes searching his. You could see the emotions swirling in his gaze—desire, relief, and a hint of vulnerability you hadn't expected from the usually laidback multi-sport athlete. It was endearing, and you found yourself smiling against his mouth.

Lifting your chest from his, your nails gently raked up and down his abs, your thighs straddling his hips. "I’ll be right back," you whispered, breaking the spell. Andrei's grip loosened, and he nodded, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watched you move away from the bed. You walked to the bathroom, your legs feeling like jelly. Your chest ached at the loss of his warm touch.

You took care of yourself, then looked in the mirror, your makeup melting slightly from the heat of your encounter. You attempted to calm yourself, washing what was left of your makeup away with your makeup wipes, your eyes bright with excitement. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts, but they remained a jumbled mess of pleasure and wonder.

When you emerged, Andrei was still laying in your bed, his bare chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. He looked up as you approached, the smile on his face growing as he reached for you. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, climbing back in beside him. He pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart. "Where the fuck did you learn that?" You asked after a beat, your voice muffled by his skin.

Andrei laughed out loud, the tension leaving his body, his fingers caressing your skin softly. "I have my ways," he replied with a smug grin, not giving anything away. You smacked his chest playfully, Andrei’s cheeks flushed from your encounter.

"Ow, asshole," he huffed, feigning pain.

The two of you laid there, your bodies cooling down but the warmth of your connection remained. Finally finding the strength to lift yourself off Andrei's chest, you reached for his phone on the nightstand. Flicking his flashlight on, you directed the light to his face. His flushed cheeks and swollen lips made him look even more handsome than you had ever seen him.

He squinted under the strength of the light, groaning with dissatisfaction. “Dude… what the fuck?”

With a giggle you moved your attention to the rest of his face, "You have makeup all over your face," you pointed out, wiping away the remnants of your gloss from his lips.

Andrei's smile grew wider, his eyes bright with mischief. "Worth it," he murmured, sitting up to kiss you again.

"Let's get you cleaned up," you said, standing up from the bed to reach for Andrei's forgotten button-up. You smiled to yourself as Andrei watched you with a lazy grin, his eyes tracing your every move. Your fingers moved gracefully across the material, pulling your hands through the sleeves while Andrei stepped into his boxers.

In the bathroom, the warm light cast a glow on your half-dressed bodies as you crowded around the mirror. Andrei lifted you to sit on the counter, catching you by surprise, your legs dangling as he stepped between them, his underwear hanging low on his hips, his silver chain glittering against his tanned skin. He leaned into your touch, you beginning to clean him up. You were meticulous, your movements tender as you wiped away smudges of foundation and the rest of your lip gloss from his face. His eyes swept over your face, committing your post-sex glow to memory as you worked diligently.

"You're so beautiful," Andrei murmured, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as you focused on removing the last of your makeup from his face. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.

"You're just saying that because I gave you head," you teased, your voice light and playful.

He leaned in, kissing your neck gently, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Best head of my life," he conceded, making you laugh and shove him away.

Andrei stepped back between your legs, his hands resting on your knees. "But seriously, you're stunning, princess." The use of the pet name again drew a shy smile out of you again. His words were sincere, and you could feel his eyes on you as you worked to clean off the last smudges of makeup from his face. You felt the tug of your smile against your lips, but you didn't look away from the task at hand.

When you were done, you tossed the wipe into the trash and leaned back against the mirror, looking at him with a soft expression. "What now?" you asked, your voice still playful despite the weight of your earlier conversation.

Andrei's expression grew more serious, his hands stilling on your thighs. "Now, we do this right." He paused, searching your eyes for any hesitation. "I don't want this to just be a one-time thing. I want to date you, for real."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Okay," you said, your voice a breathless whisper.

"Okay?" Andrei teased, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, hands squeezing your plush thighs softly.

"Yes, John Green. Okay," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, your voice filled with excitement as you leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more passion. Andrei wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as your kiss deepened. You broke apart, both of you grinning like fools.

"So, we're dating?" You asked, your voice filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. Andrei nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I've liked you for a long time. And if you're willing to put up with me and all my shit, then I'm all in."

"And what if I'm the one with the shit?" You countered, raising an eyebrow. He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "Then I'll just have to be extra patient."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect, leaning in to kiss Andrei again. This time, there was no teasing or heat, just the sweetness of two people discovering each other on a deeper level. His arms tightened around you, and you felt yourself melting into him. It was a perfect moment, one you hadn't allowed yourself to dream of.

He lifted you off the counter, setting you on your feet, and you both took a moment to look into each other's eyes, the gravity of your decision settling in. The room was filled with an electrifying silence that seemed to crackle with anticipation. You felt your heart racing as you stared into his brown eyes quietly. With a sudden movement, Andrei bent down to pick you up bridal style, making you squeal with laughter as he carried you to the bed, flicking the light switch in the bathroom off.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight coming in through the window. He laid you down gently, the mattress sinking under your combined weight. The two of you shared another kiss, slower this time, savoring the moment. You felt the warmth of Andrei's skin against yours, and you knew you had made the right choice. You had never felt so alive, so seen, and so desired.

You settled against the sheets, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence. Andrei's hand caressed your side. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt your softness next to him, he knew he never wanted to let go of this feeling.

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you whispered, "Don't fuck this up for me, Iosivas. I really like you."

Andrei chuckled, kissing your forehead. "I'll do my best, princess."

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mymoodwriting · 2 days ago

Text

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Solitude, Anxiety, Late Nights, Sleep Deprivation, Promises, Manipulation, Star-Gazing, Spacing Out, Swords, Death Threats

Words: 5.9K

Chapter Three

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @yizhou-time @hannahdinse8)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

“I’ve never been given flowers before…”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly at the flowers Seonghwa gave you. In the morning you looked around for a vase, getting some water and setting up the flowers by your window. You made sure they were soaking up the sun, watching them with a smile on your face. Although despite the joy they brought you they did also make you worry. These flowers weren’t ones you grew yourself, so surely someone would question where they came from. You weren’t sure what kind of excuse you’d give, or what would be believable. Then again you made yourself anxious for no reason.

When your ladies or eunuch came by they merely did their duties. You tried to hide your flowers, but it made no difference. As far as you knew they didn’t even notice them. To a degree it made you sad the flowers weren’t important enough to be noticed, but at the same time it should have been expected. You lived such a quiet life, the little things never stood out. At least you didn’t have to worry about hiding them and could admire them all the time. What you were really nervous about was Seonghwa. He said he would visit you again, and you excitedly waited for that time. The first two nights after his visit you didn’t expect him, but on the third you stayed up late.

You’d sit at your window, enjoying the night breeze and carefully tending to your gifted flowers. You’ve been doing your best to take care of them and make them last. It was easy to pass the time as you stared up at the stars, even starting to doze off. At some point you fell asleep, startled awake when you hit your head on the window sill. It was still dark out, but the moon was no longer up in the sky. The sun would be peeking over the horizon soon enough. It seemed that Seonghwa couldn’t make a visit tonight, but you weren’t upset. He was a busy person so perhaps tomorrow. You shut your window and went to bed. Of course you were tired by the time the sun rose, but you didn’t mind and just pushed through.

No one was around so there was no issue with taking a nap during the day. After all, that next night you stayed up again, waiting for your secret visitor, but no one came to see you. It did hurt, but you really couldn’t get your hopes up too much. Seonghwa surely had a lot of new responsibilities that kept him occupied, and a late night visit meant sacrificing his sleep. You napped during the day once more, and wondered if you should stay up late again or not. Ultimately you decided to sleep. He’d surely come visit you eventually, so you just had to wait. What really hurt your heart was the fact the flowers he brought you were wilting. The little reminder of him that you had was fading away.

“Princess… pst… y/n… are you awake…?”

“Hm…”

You groaned and slowly opened your eyes, looking around your room. Eventually your gaze turned towards your window, seeing a blurry figure waving. You didn’t need clear vision to know who was there, a smile appearing on your lips. You crawled over to your window, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hello, I’m sorry I had to wake you, but I really wanted to see you.”

“Hm… it’s nice to see you too.”

“Did you miss me?”

“I’ve been waiting…”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Seonghwa chuckled. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy.”

“I don’t wanna be too busy to see you.”

“Then tell me about your days. I wanna know what a scholar does around the palace.”

“It’s very boring stuff.”

“I’m confined to my quarters all day. Anything outside these walls is interesting to me.”

“Very well.”

Seonghwa indulged your request and told you how he spent his days. He admitted he wanted to see you sooner, but his father swamped him with work. Once he was done with lectures he had tasks and different assignments to complete. He had to get through those first before he could even have a moment to himself. As tiresome as they were, they did take him all over the palace and gave him a chance to introduce himself to other officials.

“It sounds like you’ve seen more of the palace in the few days you’ve been here than I have my whole life.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“You forget I’m also a lady. I doubt I have any business in many of the places you’ve been.”

“Still, this is your home.”

“It doesn’t feel like it… then again, I don’t think I know what a home feels like…”

“We’ll work on that.”

Seonghwa reached over to gently pet your head, continuing on as he told you about the things he did. You eagerly listened, loving the stories, but eventually Seonghwa noticed you dozing off.

“I see someone is sleepy.”

“I’m not… I can stay up…”

“Sh, it’s okay, I’ll come again to tell you more stories. Although, before I go.” Seonghwa revealed a bouquet of fresh flowers. “These are for you. I’ll take the old ones.”

“No, wait.”

“Hm?”

“I wasn’t going to throw the old ones away… I wanted to bury them in my garden… I don’t want any gift from you to leave me…”

“Ah, how sweet. I’ll bury them for you on my way out then, but you must go to bed now.”

“Fine… can I at least make another request before you go?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t… don’t make me wait so long… please…”

“I shall do my best princess, but you know-”

“I do… as long as you return before the flowers wilt, then I won’t be mad.”

“I see, I think I can work with that.”

Seonghwa grabbed the flower vase, taking out the old flowers and putting in the new ones. He made sure to arrange them nicely, noticing your gaze on him. There was a nice little twinkle in your eyes, one that was only for him.

“There you are. I shall see you again soon, my princess, good night.”

“Good night, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa stuck around until you were tucked under your bed sheets, and he could be sure you’d be sleeping soon. He made his way through your garden, using the moonlight as his guide. Once he found a good place he dug a hole, burying the flowers he had given you before just as promised. Although he did take a petal, wanting a token of this gift as well.

♦♦♥♦♦

“The Crown Prince is here.”

Yunho was doing his best to see you, wanting to make sure you were alright, and also giving himself a break from studying. Although when he came to see you he immediately became worried. You were laying in bed, food half eaten. He quickly knelt down at your side, gently coaxing you awake.

“Y/n… y/n, wake up.”

“Hm… Yunho…?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…” You sat up, yawning. “What are you doing here?”

“Paying you a visit, but why are you in bed? Do you feel ill?”

“No, no, I’m just sleepy, that’s all. Look, I ate, and took my medicine.”

“You should have eaten everything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

“I have. I’m fine, Yunho. There’s not much for me to do, so sometimes a nap is nice.”

“Hm… I’m not sure if I believe you.”

“Then call Yeosang, but I’m perfectly fine.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling over your food table, deciding to finish up what was left so Yunho could worry less. He happily watched you, reaching over to pet your head and getting a smile out of you too. While you ate he looked around the room, thinking of things to get you so you don’t get so bored, but then his eyes landed on something peculiar.

“Where did you get those flowers?” Yunho asked. “You don’t grow those in your garden.”

You froze mid-bite, knowing exactly what he was talking about. You were trying not to panic, knowing your heartbeat could give you away. Despite all the time you had you never really figured out what excuse to give when asked.

“Did one of your court ladies bring them?”

“… yeah… I wanted something different… maybe I’ll ask for these flower seeds in the future.”

“I see. They’re nice. Should I send you flowers?”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“Something else perhaps. New flower seeds for your garden?”

“I’d prefer new paints. It’s what I mostly do to pass the time.”

“Very well.”

Yunho stayed with you for a while longer, wanting to make sure you’d be alright and not sleep away your day. Even if you said you were fine he couldn’t help but be concerned. So of course he sent word to Yeosang to pay you a visit later. He had to be sure you were okay at any given time. Even though you had requested paints he did like the idea of sending you flowers, although he wanted to make sure they weren’t ones you had in your garden. He thought to send Jongho out to get some, but the boy let him know he didn’t have much knowledge of flowers, let alone which one’s the princess kept in her garden. It seemed that Yunho would have to venture out of the palace for that, so he’d have to plan for that in the future.

♦♦♥♦♦

“I feel like we’ve been seeing each other more often these days.”

“Does that upset you, princess?”

“Not at all. If anything, I feel bad for wasting your time.”

“I’m a royal physician after all.” Yeosang reminded. “It’s my duty to look after the royal family.”

“Well, once again, I assure you I’m fine, but my brother needs to be sure.”

“There’s no harm in that.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s ease his worries. I’m told you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“Not really… I just want to take naps during the day.”

“That’s new behavior for you.”

“So? It’s not concerning, is it?”

“Not at all, but it does sound like you’re not sleeping well at night.”

“I am.”

“Which I am inclined to believe. Medically speaking, nothing in regards to your health should be affecting your sleep schedule, but I’ll check just to be sure.”

“Go ahead.”

You were used to Yeosang’s check-ups, especially as they were happening more than usual. Although you did need to figure out a way to stop making your brother worry. It seemed that every little thing about you was cause for concern, which was far from the truth. Staying up late at night and sleeping during the day shouldn’t be a problem to him.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re not sleeping at night?” Yeosang asked. “I know there’s an answer.”

“… sleeping during the day just passes the time faster. I don’t have much to do anyway… besides, star-gazing is really nice.”

“I see. You’re not a nocturnal creature though, so you shouldn’t mess with your sleep like that.”

“I’ll do better.”

“I hope so, but just in case I’ll leave you with some sleeping aids. Take one before bed with water and you’ll be good.”

“Thanks, Yeosang. You can let Yunho know I’m doing okay.”

“I will. Now, since I’m here, is there anything you want to discuss?”

“About what?”

“Anything, really, but if you say you’re good then I’ll be off.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you next time.”

“Be well, princess.”

“I’ll do my best.”

♦♦♥♦♦

If Seonghwa truly had his way he’d see you every night, but that was a luxury he’d have to work hard for. Even if he had his own plans and desires, he still had his title to uphold. For now at least. So there were things that were expected of him as a scholar and a Park. Not to mention he knew his father would be keeping a close eye on his progress. Moreso to make sure he didn’t do anything to embarrass him or the Park family. Still, the thought of seeing you and winning your favor was all the motivation he needed. He knew you eagerly awaited his visit every night, which ultimately worked to help his plans.

Once he had a good routine every other second or third night he’d make the journey to your quarters. Each time he’d happily coax you awake, loving the twinkle in your eyes as you awoke to his call and realized he was there. You were so well behaved and eager for his company, Seonghwa knew he practically had you in the palm of his hand, but he would remain a gentleman. You needed care and love above all else. So he always made sure to bring fresh flowers, not wanting to repeat himself, nor give you anything that you had in your own garden. He had stuck around a while longer once you had gone to bed a few nights prior, wanting to get familiar with the space you called your own.

He felt your friendship was growing nicely, and as things progressed he did more. One night in particular he had brought over a blanket, wanting to lay under the stars with you. It provided you with some fresh air, and company. Seonghwa was more than happy to talk about the stars and the things he knew about them. It seemed you were fascinated with astrology, keeping your eyes glued to the stars while Seonghwa’s gaze remained on you. By now he had the temptation to kiss you, but he had to hold himself back. Time was on his side for now, and he could be patient. Of course late night visits could only last so long. While talking Seonghwa realized you were curled up next to him, dozing off. He chuckled and softly pet your head.

“I see it’s time for you to get to bed.”

“… it won’t be warm…”

“Shall I go with you then? I can stay until your bed warms up and you’re asleep.”

“… yes, please…”

“Alright, but you have to get up first.”

A pouty whine escaped your lips, but still, you had to get up. You sat up with Seonghwa’s help, rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes. The two of you went back to your room, Seonghwa making sure you were under your blankets before laying down beside you. He gently moved to spoon you, wanting to keep his word and warm you up. Although he had to be careful not to fall asleep himself. Late night visits took a toll on him too, but he could trade a good night’s sleep for this. He hummed for a moment, listening to your steady heartbeat.

“You know… we should try daytime visits.”

“… that’s dangerous… I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble…”

“I worry more about you, but I do really want to see you bask in the sunlight. To tend to your garden together. Perhaps even share a meal.”

“I don’t… sorry…”

“Hm? Why are you apologizing?”

You rolled over to face Seonghwa, seeing his curious eyes, but you could also see the exhaustion. You could get away with napping as you had nothing else to do, but Seonghwa didn’t share in that privilege.

“You must be tired during the day…”

“Ah, it’s okay. I function well on a handful of hours of sleep. I’d rather see you and lose some sleep than not see you at all.”

“But those short nights will catch up to you eventually…”

“I can handle it.”

“Do you want some sleeping aids?”

“Sleeping aids? Why do you have those?”

“When my brother caught me taking a nap one morning he got worried and had Yeosang look me over. He’s my doctor, and he gave me some sleeping aids, saying I shouldn’t mess with my sleep schedule.”

“Ah, are you saying I’m bad for your health?”

“No, not at all.” You chuckled. “My brother just worries about every little thing when it comes to me. Anyway, I don’t use sleeping aids, but it sounds like they’d work better for you.”

“Hm, perhaps they might.”

“Take them.”

You got up and brought over the little box Yeosang had given you before. You held it out to Seonghwa, who took it and examined the contents.

“He said you’re supposed to take one before bed with some water.”

“I’ll give them a try then.”

“Good. I want you to sleep well.”

“As long as I get to see you I know I’ll have sweet dreams. Now come on, you do need to sleep.”

Seonghwa tucked you back in under your blanket, humming to help soothe you. It wasn’t long before you were fast asleep, all warm and comfy. Seonghwa would have loved to stay longer, but that ran the risk of getting caught. He carefully moved away, being careful not to wake you. He took the box of sleeping aids and snuck out the window quietly closing it on his way out, then gathering up the blanket he brought. He still wanted to try and see you during the day but that would be a conversation for another time.

♦♦♥♦♦

Hongjoong was always rather nervous as he stood guard outside the princess’ quarters, not wanting to get caught, or worse, get Seonghwa in trouble. He was only ever at ease once Seonghwa returned to his own quarters and turned in for the night. That’s when he got his much needed downtime, although on this particular night that wouldn’t be the case. As Hongjoong got ready to sleep himself he was approached by a familiar face. Words didn’t need to be spoken, so Hongjoong merely followed the other, soon finding himself a guest of Minister Park.

“Minister Park, how may I be of service?”

“There’s no need for such formalities. Sit, I merely wanted to speak with you.”

“Of course, minister.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been easy keeping an eye on my son, but knowing you are with him puts me at ease.”

“I’m glad to be of service.”

“There hasn’t been any trouble, has there?”

“Not at all. Lord Park does well to maintain the honor of the Park family. All those who meet him are impressed by him and eager to build a relationship.”

“I see. He must be very busy then. So he’s no longer making late night visits to the princess?”

“…”

“He’s persistent.”

“Lord Park focuses on his duties first and foremost. His visits to the princess are only when he has time. He knows what the real priority is.”

“Hm… then perhaps it’s best to remind him who he is.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa truly enjoyed being in the palace. It felt right, and gave him peace of mind. So he had no trouble stepping out into the nearby villages, happy to mingle with the locals knowing where he’d return to in the end. Today he wanted to do something special, wanted to try something new. Of course Hongjoong was against the idea.

“Visiting the princess during the day is very risky.” Hongjoong reminded. “You’re already bust as it is.”

“I have more time during the day. Besides, outside of meals and basic things, the princess is alone. There are many opportune times to visit her.”

“You could get caught at any moment.”

“That’s why I have you, and if you need any help we can ask Wooyoung.”

“Seonghwa-”

“I won’t do anything until I have a proper plan, so you don’t need to worry.”

“I still don’t think you should do this. Why don’t you just focus on your work in the palace? You have an incredible career ahead of you.”

“One I don’t care for. I can do better for this nation and you know it.”

“Seonghwa, you have to know that what you’re after is insane. If anyone-”

“I’m going to need you to run a little errand for me today.”

Hongjoong has wanted to dissuade Seonghwa from his plan of courting the princess since he was first told of it. He had been trying, but his pleas were falling on deaf ears. Of course many times when the subject of the princess was brought up, Seonghwa was quick to change things when he no longer wanted to hear Hongjoong try to reason with him.

“What kind of errand?”

“I want you to deliver something to the princess.”

“What!?”

“She’s never been outside the palace, so I want to send her something unique. These vendors sell all kinds of little treats I’m sure she’s never had. Although I should probably speak with her physician to make sure I don’t send her anything that might make her sick.”

“I doubt her physician would share such information.”

“I have my ways of getting answers… today I want to send her little cakes, what do you think of these?”

“Seonghwa, this is also risky.”

“When I first wanted to apologize to the princess you suggested I send her a letter, what’s so different about this that now you disapprove?”

“I-”

“Just sneak into her quarter’s after her court ladies leave her lunch. Can you do that?”

Hongjoong sighed. “Yes, I can.”

“Good. I’ll take these then and write her a letter.”

Seonghwa paid for the cakes, eager to return to the palace and send off his gift. Although as soon as he was back he was approached by his father’s guard. He told the guard he was busy, but that wasn’t an acceptable answer. It seems his gift would have to wait till later.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, the King requests your presence in the throne room.”

“Right now? Is there a reason why?”

“One was not stated, but we should not keep the King waiting.”

“Agreed.”

Yunho was rather surprised by the request. Even before the most recent events his father was not one to call on him so suddenly without reason. He couldn’t help this uneasy feeling but he’d have to face it regardless. He made his way to the throne room, his arrival being announced and then stepping inside. He expected his father to be alone, but instead he was met with some guests, and familiar ones too.

“Crown Prince, I don’t suppose you remember Lord Park Seonghwa, he is Minister Park’s son.”

“I do. I heard of his return and the two of us reacquainted ourselves.”

“That’s good. Since Lord Park has studied outside the palace he’d likely have good insight for you, so building a relationship would be wise.”

“I understand, your Majesty.”

Yunho knew the two of them would likely be pushed together by their fathers, but he didn’t expect this so soon. Still, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with rekindling an old friendship. A few more things were mentioned but Yunho and Seonghwa were soon dismissed.

“How have you been adjusting to the palace?” Yunho asked. “It must be very different to the way you lived before.”

“It’s not too difficult to adapt, your highness.”

“I suppose this is still technically your home.”

“It always has been.”

“Come. We should talk in a more comfortable setting.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Things were a bit awkward between the two. Yunho would have preferred to build this relationship on his own, but there was no harm in getting to know each other sooner. If anything Yunho could help Seonghwa out as he settled into things at the palace. He brought Seonghwa over to a quiet place in the royal garden. Those from their entourage kept a few steps away and out of sight.

“I honestly thought you’d visit throughout the years, but I never saw you again until now.”

“I wanted to, but my father rejected the idea every time I brought it up. So eventually I stopped asking.”

“You’re back now though.”

“It was my father who requested I return, well, more like ordered me too. He sent me away and brought me back. I still don’t understand why.”

“Perhaps it was all for this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve lived and studied outside the palace, something I could never do. Together we’d surely be able to take care of the nation. Just like our fathers have.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

For a moment the two just sat in silence, letting the sounds of nature fill in the empty space. Their fathers would surely expect them to spend more time together going forward, but maybe not right now.

“I’m assuming your father brought you to the throne room and interrupted your day.”

“More or less.”

“Then I won’t keep you too long. Feel free to stop by my library when you like. We should see each other more often and I would enjoy hearing some stories from your time outside the palace.”

“I’ll make an effort to see you at least once a week, your highness.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Seonghwa excused himself, but Yunho remained in the garden for a while longer. He thought back to his childhood, and the times he and Seonghwa used to play together. He wondered if they could actually rekindle an old friendship. His father and Minister Park got along well, and the nation thrived. He wanted to do right by the people as well when he became king, and Seonghwa was meant to help with that. Although his thoughts soon drifted to his studies. Besides his desires he had other things to consider, and he was nowhere near making a proper decision.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Seonghwa, are you alright?”

Hongjoong was certainly worried when Seonghwa was summoned and wound up in the throne room. He waited anxiously outside, and only got more nervous when the Crown Prince arrived. He feared the worst, but was greatly relieved when Seonghwa stepped out unharmed. Although the fact he was accompanying the Crown Prince was odd. Now that their little gathering was over Seonghwa was clearly upset.

“He did this on purpose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My father has been making sure I have my hands full with my studies and tasks, trying to make sure I’m too busy to do anything else. Clearly that wasn’t enough so he brought me before the King and Crown Prince. He knows if I refuse them it not only looks bad on the family, but most of all me. He’d have me disowned and exiled from the palace immediately, which would ruin my plans. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

“Then for now you must comply with his wishes.”

“If I want to remain in the palace, yes.”

“Perhaps your father doesn’t have ill intentions and is merely trying to help you. The Park family name is respected and you have a bright future ahead of you as-”

“An advisor? No, a servant, better yet a slave. I’ve seen what this nation is like and it’s time for a change.”

“Seonghwa, don’t speak like that. If someone hears you-”

“You may not have studied history as much as I have, but I can tell you that the Jeong family has been in power for too long.”

“If you want the throne so bad why don’t you just challenge the King?” Hongjoong snapped. “Or wait until the Crown Prince ascends, why involve the princess? You’re playing with her heart and manipulating her for your own benefit! Your father is trying to help you and remind you of what’s important!”

“My father… what did you tell him?”

“What?”

“The other night I was looking for you and saw you walking off with my father’s guard, now what did you tell him?”

“I didn’t-”

“No wonder he pulled such a stunt today. He needed to add to my workload to keep me away from my own goals!”

“Seonghwa, you-”

“Get lost.”

“What?”

“Get lost! I don’t need a traitor like you at my side.”

“I serve the Park family, Seonghwa, and that includes you. It’s my job to protect you from all kinds of danger, especially while in the palace.”

“I don’t need protection here, I need a friend, someone I can trust, and I mistakenly thought that was you. Now get out of my sight!”

Seonghwa took back the little bag of cakes Hongjoong had been holding onto, storming off, but Hongjoong followed without hesitation.

“Seonghwa, you’re being ridiculous, you-”

All of a sudden Seonghwa stopped in his tracks and turned around. He startled Hongjoong, distracting him as he reached for the boy’s sword and unsheathed it. The tip of the blade pointed at Hongjoong’s throat, keeping him frozen in place.

“If you’re a servant of the Park family then you should know by now I intend to make my own path. I don’t need a guard, I don’t need you, Hongjoong. I told my father to stay out of my way, and the same applies to you. Do not show your face to me again unless you are prepared to die.”

Seonghwa threw the sword to the ground and walked away, this time Hongjoong did not follow. He merely stayed put, watching the other leave, uncertain of his own future.

♦♦♥♦♦

Seonghwa couldn’t bring himself to see you, not after his day had fallen apart. As far as he was concerned everything that had happened so far would have no effect on his plans, but it would just complicate things. The little cakes he had gotten you were now cold, and he wanted you to enjoy them while they were fresh. He’d have to make another trip outside the palace and plan accordingly in order to deliver them himself. For now he just retired to his own quarters, needing some peace.

A few days later he went to visit you at night, keeping to his original promise of seeing you before the flowers died. Despite everything that twinkle in your eyes shined bright, like a beacon of light in the darkness. You loved star gazing, but tonight he merely wanted to hold you in his arms. Hongjoong’s words rang in his head since they were true, but not entirely, not anymore. He thought he could trust him, but he should have known better. You can’t really trust anyone in the palace. As he was lost in thought he was suddenly pulled back to reality by a hand running through his hair. His gaze met yours, seeing the curious and worried look in your eyes.

“Are you alright, Seonghwa? You seem… distant tonight.”

“Apologies. I have a lot on my mind.”

“You must really be busy.”

“Indeed I am.”

“Then… I won’t hold you to your previous promise anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t have to come before the flowers wilt… I can wait for you, however long that takes.”

“Princess, you don’t need to say such things.”

“You’re busy in the palace, and have many responsibilities to uphold. You’re also the son of Minister Park, there must be quite the expectations on your shoulders. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

“Y/n.” Seonghwa reached over to cup your cheeks. “You’re not a burden to me. Seeing you brings me much joy, and it’s the best remedy after a long day. I’m still getting used to everything, so I apologize for being so distant.”

“I can understand you have your priorities but… I must ask…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why… why do you care about me? Why did you approach me? Why do you sacrifice and put yourself in danger to see me?”

Seonghwa chuckled softly. “I wanted to see what had become of you after all these years… but also… I know what it’s like to be alone when there are so many people around you. To be at arms length from your parents… it may not really be my place, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Are you alone in the palace?”

“It seems I am… besides you of course.”

“But you have your father, and guard.”

“Not really, not anymore.”

“… I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know the palace is a lonely place, which is all the more reason to come see you. I want to keep our promise, and I want to see you during the day.”

“Seonghwa, you know-”

“I do, I do, we’ll talk about this more some other time. Let’s just enjoy the present.”

Seonghwa pulled you closer, wanting to keep you wrapped up in his arms, safe and sound. He hummed softly and closed his eyes, listening to your steady heartbeat, providing him with comfort. He was slowly dozing off, a lot of exhaustion catching up to him, but then he heard a tapping on the window. His eyes snapped open, immediately on alert. For a second all he caught was the hilt of a sword, and then he noticed the slivers of sunlight in the sky. He had stayed for too long. Thankfully it seemed that you hadn’t woken up, and he’d do nothing to disturb your sleep. Seonghwa carefully pulled himself away from you, biting his lip instead of kissing your head. He made his way out, careful to be quiet and not be seen.

“Thank you, Wooyoung. I’m sorry I must have fallen asleep at some point and lost track of time.”

As Seonghwa thanked Wooyoung for being his look out he saw the boy shaking his head, gesturing to someone behind Seonghwa. A scowl quickly appeared on Seonghwa’s face and he drew out Wooyoung’s sword. Although when he turned around, ready to keep his word, he saw Hongjoong on his knees, bowing his head as he held up his own sword. For a moment there was silence and then Hongjoong dared to speak.

“I was wrong, my lord. I am not a servant of the Park family, only yours. Whatever you desire, whatever becomes of you, I wish to stand by your side as a protector, but most of all a friend. The palace is a dangerous place and you should not traverse it alone. If you’ll have me… I shall serve you until my dying breath. If I cannot do that for you then I ask you to keep your word. I am prepared to die.”

Hongjoong raised up his sword higher, still keeping his head bowed. Silence once again filled the air, the sounds of nature waking up, of a new day, began to take over the quiet morning. Seonghwa returned Wooyoung’s sword, stepping towards Hongjoong and taking the blade presented to him.

“Stand.”

Hongjoong did as he was ordered, but did not meet Seonghwa’s gaze, not until the tip of the sword was under his chin.

“You swear loyalty to me, no matter what happens? You’ll die for me if needed?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Tsk.”

“Seonghwa.”

The tip of the sword was pressed against Hongjoong’s throat, any more pressure and blood would be drawn. If this was the end Hongjoong would accept it. He deserved it for abandoning his friend. Instead Seonghwa pulled the sword away, stepping closer and returning the sword to its sheath.

“I will hold you to your words, Hongjoong.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“Thank you, for the wake up call.”

“You definitely need to sleep more, which is why it’s best you visit the princess during the day.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yes. I know how you can accomplish this.”

“Do tell.”

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newtsniffles · 1 day ago

Text

BETWEEN YOUR EYES

the jackal x oc

chapter one

WARNING: this fanfiction will contain mature scenes, violence, and coarse language.

word count: 1.6k, a short set-up chapter. enjoy!

if you enjoy this fanfiction, please don't forget to interact.

CHAPTER ONE: ONE SHOT, ONE KILL.

Grace McCarron loved the smell of coffee. Especially in the early mornings when the sun hadn’t risen and the streets were still wet with last night’s rain. It irked her though, how people could be so loud at such an early hour. Couldn’t people just be quiet? Talk at a normal volume, it was only the hour of six.

The blonde’s fingers rap against the counter in a steady rhythm. Her expression reads neutral as she watches the customers enjoying their breakfasts, discussing work projects and gossip. It was all so mundane, every word they said was capable of drawing a yawn from her lips. Nobody is interesting this morning.

With a sigh, Grace reaches under the counter for the remote, flicking on the television in the corner. Her head tilts, blue eyes sparkling with intense focus at the headline written across the lower third of the screen.

Manfred Fest assassinated.

Grace’s eyes narrow, something interesting. Her attention is only being drawn away by the sound of a customer waiting to order. A young woman, brunette, she’d be mid-twenties.

‘It’s horrible isn’t it?’ The woman says.

‘I’m on the fence,’ Grace admits. ‘What can I get for you?’

‘A latte, please… You don’t think it’s bad?’

‘That a fascist offended somebody and got himself killed? Not really.’ Grace presses the coffee, clicking it into the machine before foaming the milk. With practised expertise, she fills a takeaway cup with the espresso and milk, creating lines of art on the top.

‘I don’t know much about foreign politics,’ the woman taps her card.

‘Take it from me, be glad he won’t be the new German Chancellor.’

Grace’s attention is brought back to the screen as the customer walks away with her latte. A single sniper shot from a distance of over three kilometres. Impressive. More than. The corners of her lips tilt into a small grin, leaning back onto the counter with crossed arms, she watches the news report.

It had started raining again, like it usually did in London. The sound of tires driving over the slick roads was comforting to Grace. Red brake lights reflected in the puddles by the footpath, headlights and street lamps casting a warm hue despite the darkening sky. She loved the rain, the sound of it pattering against whatever surface. However, it did make it hard to get a decent line of sight. Her lips quirked slightly, a lover of challenge. One blue eye closed, a glint of thrill in the other as it stared through the scope of a personalised sniper rifle.

Sleeping with the blinds open, Grace could never understand it, but it certainly helped her in this case. The target laid across his bed, his thumb scrolling across the screen of his phone. The lights in his apartment were on, everything visible. He was so stupidly vulnerable. She could’ve shot six times over by now, but would there be any fun in that? Her finger taps against the trigger as she recalls the deviance of the sleazy man. The world would be better off without him.

BANG. One shot, one kill.

Grace pulls her head back from the sniper, standing up, she starts to pack down the rifle. Her eyes don’t leave the window of the now-deceased target as she unscrews the barrel, packing it all into a case. She hurries downstairs, unlocking her car and driving off swiftly. Chances are nobody would find him until morning, but it is still safer to get away as quickly as possible.

The internet cafe was practically dead at this hour, a lone stranger or two. It had started to rain outside again, Grace could hear it on the roof, see it on the windows. It was also a Wednesday, unlikely that it would be busy. She plugs a USB into one of the many PCs, accessing Dark Core.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ job complete.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___he will not bother you anymore.

FPOxENT779X___thank you.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___yes.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908 one new message.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Big admirers of your work. Have project we think will interest you. Superlative remuneration.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t work for money.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___What do you work for?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___enforcement of consequence.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___There is a man who needs to face consequences.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Can’t talk here.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will you meet in person?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___where?

Grace sits back in her seat, her finger traces her bottom lip as she waits for a response. This was an odd one, but they seem insistent. For them to know of her work, they had to have communication with sources she had helped in the past.

CRTVDSTRYR*1908___Will make a transfer of good will. Location attached.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___tomorrow morning.

Logout.

A sum of $10,000 has been transferred to your account.

A transfer message has been left.

Grace shuts down the computer, taking out the USB, she packs it into her handbag. Her lips quirk as she exits the internet cafe. Something new, something interesting, a potential challenge. This calls for a stop at that delicious dessert bar down the road from her apartment, a nice meringue or maybe some ice cream would do.

For once the sun was out in London, albeit only slightly, but it did still make Grace look less ridiculous for wearing a cap and sunglasses. She notices a woman sitting on the park bench, must be her. Her black coat flutters behind her in the wind as she sits beside the other woman.

‘Who are you?’ Grace asks.

‘Irish?’ The woman responds with a question.

‘And you’re American.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why am I here?’ Grace leans back against the park bench, crossing her legs. ‘What did he do? Was it assault, did he hurt the kids…?’

‘Ulle Dag Charles.’

‘UDC… the River man?’

‘Yes,’ She answers.

‘I don’t see how exposing the rich is a crime,’ Grace grins. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve wasted my time.’

‘If he releases River, it’s not just the rich who fall. All secret networks will be exposed, you’ll be discovered.’ The woman turns to face Grace, trying to get a look at her expression. She quickly realises it’s impossible with the cap and the darkly tinted glasses. ‘You’ll go to prison for a long time.’

‘If that’s the case, hidden networks of paedophiles, rapists… it will all be exposed. You think they’ll go after little old me?’

‘I think even after exposing the rich, they’ll still have the power, and they’ll still be protected.’

‘You’re very insistent,’ Grace observes. ‘Why me?’

‘Because you always get the job done.’

Sighing, Grace looks up at the cloudy sky, the sun peaking out slightly. She sucks in a breath of the fresh park air before responding. ‘This job is a bit harder than the others…’

‘Which is why we’ve hired a second… professional, such as yourself.’

‘First, you ask me to eliminate a man for wanting to expose the rich, and now you tell me I’d have to work with another person?’

There is a silence that passes momentarily between the two women as they stare each other down.

‘River is good for nobody. You will go to prison.’

‘No, I won’t.’ Grace smirks knowingly. ‘Who is the other person?’

‘He is one of the best, alongside yourself.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I don’t know his identity…’ She answers. ‘He took out Fest.’

‘Ah.’ Grace’s lips immediately quick upwards, a grin taking over her expression. She stands up, hands in pockets, she stares down at the woman still sitting. ‘And what do they call you?’

‘Zina.’

‘Zina… I don’t kill innocent men. Give me one good reason to take this job, and not because of River.’

‘...’ The American woman sits there contemplating for a moment, her mind working a million miles an hour. ‘You don’t have to take the shot. We need you to… babysit.’

Grace lets out a loud chuckle, ‘babysit?’

‘It seems our other hire is caught up in a few… troubles after the fest situation. We need you to ensure he gets the job done, and if he fails to, you step in and finish it.’

‘Well… let’s hope he doesn’t fail.’

‘Is that a yes to the job?’ Zina sits up straight.

‘He is aware, I assume?’

‘He will be made aware.’

‘Get me in contact,’ Grace turns around and walks away, her coat once again billowing behind her.

It was another early morning, three days after Grace’s meeting with Zina. She sat behind the counter at the cafe, it was a very quiet morning. A Sunday morning, not many were up and about. She opened her laptop, plugging in her USB.

Access Chatroom:

Username: xxxfOxTROT22971x$

Password: ************

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___who are you?

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___should i not be asking you?

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i do not need babysitting.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___ah.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___the other ‘professional’

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___nice shot.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___refuse the job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i don’t think i will.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i get bored sometimes.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___then stay out of the way.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i do the job i’m hired for.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___don’t get into trouble, and i won’t have to step in and clean it up.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t need anybody to clean up.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___a little birdy told me otherwise.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i am not the enemy.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i don’t work in teams.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___there is a first time for everything.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m not here to steal your job.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___i’m here to cover your ass so you can get it done.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you said you don’t work in teams, that means you have no connections.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___you will fuck up, you will go to jail.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___Munich.

**&525marTinGuerrE^$___i will send the hotel details.

xxxfOxTROT22971x$___see you there.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

enjoy? consider a tip. https://ko-fi.com/newtsniffles

taglist: @ysabay @blue-and-yellow-jjk-pjm @fawkes5050 @our-future-is-up-to-us-2 @itszara-theurbanwitch @wintercrows @rosie-read-that @kpopgirlbtssvt

#eddie redmayne #eddie redmayne x reader #eddie redmayne x oc #fanfiction #jackal x reader #jackal x oc #the day of the jackal #the day of the jackal x reader #the day of the jackal x oc

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slvtforfiction · 10 hours ago

Text

Stalker!Ghost brainrot

☆ Stalker!Ghost is ruining my brain

☆ Ghost X Reader

☆ TW stalking obvs

☆ New account layout,will try change old layout as much as possible,requests are open.

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Divider creds to @cafekitsune :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post | Part 2

☆ He’s a shadow himself so becoming a second shadow to you is particularly easy.

☆ Not to say you don’t notice anything’s wrong,you’re paranoid constantly,you feel like someone’s watching you but you can never really pinpoint it and so you sigh daily and quietly accept that you might be going insane.

☆ You start to realise when you come home from the gym,unloading your washing from the dryer and realising that all of your panties are missing and the laundry looks like someone had sifted through it.

☆ That night you don’t sleep,you cry most of the night,shaking and flinching when you hear a noise,scared that someone or something is out to get you.

☆ But Ghost’s not that silly, he’s watching you cry through the window,sighing to himself. He didn’t want his girl to be upset.

☆ As you clamber your way out of bed the next morning,most of the night spent in floods of tears and paranoia,you make your way to work quietly,looking over your shoulder as you walk into town.

☆ Ghost is watching from the shadows and as you open up shop he’s your first customer,getting his morning coffee as you try to put on a smile for the day of work,after all it’s not this strangers fault that your so paranoid.

☆ Ghost gets bold,walking into your house whenever he pleases,he even has a copy of your key at the point.

☆ Ghost doesn’t know what comes over him but after smashing one of your favourite mugs he frowns and places a sticky note on the counter next to five £20 notes.

☆ As you come home from work you still feel paranoid,almost depressed from how watched you felt.

☆ You opened your front door,slowly peaking in almost expecting someone to jump out at you but you see nothing but an empty house.

☆ You walk in cautiously and take off your shoes before walking into your kitchen,looking at the money and sticky note as you enter,suddenly the fear returns,coursing through your body before you read the note.

☆ Sorry love didn’t mean to break your mug,bit of cash to get yourself a new one

Love,ghost.

☆ In a flash decision you decide to find a pen and paper,scribbling down any thoughts left in your head.

☆ Who are you? Please don’t hurt me,if I’ve done something that wronged you in any way I’m so so sorry and I’ll make up for it any way you want I promise,just please don’t hurt me

☆ Your fear doesn’t subside as you walk up to your bedroom,it’s almost like the stalker is taunting you,waiting for you to lose your guard.

☆ You make your way to bed,once again without an inkling of sleep yet once you trudge down the stairs in the morning thankful you don’t have work today you see that your paper is gone and replaced with a sticky note.

☆ I’m not going to hurt you sweets,don’t you worry your pretty little head,I just wanna help you.

Love,Ghost.

Hey guys if you like this post you should follow my Wattpad to get a notification when I post my ghost fic! It’s Christmas themed,slow burn and I know you’ll all definitely love it - Char 💞

Wattpad

out nov 25th 00:00 gmt*

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orestesimp · 1 year ago

Text

me, so far up that moon knight guy’s ass that i was ready to throw hands

Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous issue] [TBC]

You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#i have so many thoughts #first wtf kind of biscuits are those #and how much money does she make that it’s not bankrupting her #loooooove love love the idea of catching him in a trap à la scooby doo #and he’s just so unbothered eating his cooking and being the grumpiest grump to ever grump #that moon knight guy can paint the town red it’s okay he’s baby #but back to another baby #miguel you big softie #he’s like a cat #feed the feral cat once and he’ll come back for more #but really don’t sleep with your windows open #that’s how you wake up dead #the reader is so cute i love her am but my girl is clumsy hahaha #if the fall doesn’t kill her i’m guessing miguel might #miguel o'hara #fic rec

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always-a-slut-4-ghouls · 25 days ago

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Every time I see anything about Europeans not having screens on their windows I remember that one post “this is why you got the plague”. I cannot read anything about Europe and window screens without remembering that post, and honestly, I am still confused as to why people there don’t have screens

#emma posts #around here if you had no screens you’d be getting west Nile and shit just because you wanted some nighttime summer breeze #even without west Nile I don’t want more mosquitoe bites than necessary #plenty of other stuff would get in too. but you would be in mosquitoe hell #how do you guys live with biting stuff getting in your house? with flies getting in your kitchen?#it only happens here if someone leaves the door open too long or they have the lights on when they open the door at night #I mean. flies get in when it starts to get cold. but it would be way worse without window screens #and I’m pretty sure mosquitoes don’t know flies’ mysterious secrets for getting through small openings #at least most flies that get in houses don’t bite #if you leave the door open and a horse fly or deer fly gets in it’s shitty #those fuckers bite #and ticks! They usually don’t get right next to your house. but that depends on what’s around your house #and mosquitoe bites itch for DAYS #how are you guys not just getting diseases and unpleasant bites in your sleep?#and what happens if a bird accidentally flies into your living room?#if that ever happens here there’s a lot of panicking between both the bird and the humans #and I love bats but you really don’t want them getting in your house and that would just make it easier #I love them a lot but they are very good at carrying diseases. they are built different when it comes to immune systems in mammals #and if you leave your window open at night and don’t have some dog to scare them off you know raccoons would be all over your kitchen #and mice and rats too. maybe squirrels. rodents get in sometimes other ways but that’s just opening the door for them like welcome guests #if they aren’t pets then you probably don’t want them there especially for sanitary reasons #and bugs that like to eat your food!#I like animals but a lot of them aren’t great in your house #and when mice have gotten into my family’s house and realized that there were multiple cats they would just hide somewhere out of reach #until they died. even with live traps around they didn’t always move from their hiding spots out of fear #it has to be a terrible way to go. I feel bad for them #more would end up dying that way or from the cats eating them if they could just wander in through open windows. often when they do get #inside it’s because a crack formed somewhere in the window insulation #and your cat could just yet themselves off the second floor or higher. one time I had the screen off for something and my cat wandered onto #the roof and only came back in when he noticed I was panicking

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fairy-angel222 · 7 months ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹

prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader

✧ synopsis: you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?

✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap

✧ wc: 4.7k

✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna

Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.

Sukuna.

That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.

Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.

How long had it been since they’d seen one after all.

“Hey Doc… you sure you wanna take this case.. i mean, i don’t doubt ya or anything but this one.. he’s bad. Dangerous.”

“Now what kind of doctor would i be if i feared a little danger. He’s still a patient.” You smiled, ignoring the way your hairs stood as you were led deeper into the institution. The part where they held those deemed a danger to society.

Those who had a no chance of even seeing sunlight again.

You were nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest when you scanned your surroundings. There weren’t any cells. There were only.. rooms. Fully enclosed rooms with a singular window for passing food.

Every part of your being begged for you to turn around and run. To not even interact with whoever sat on the other side of that door. And you froze when bright red eyes pierced into yours. The rest of his face casted behind a dark shadow as his head tilted back. Giving you sight to the small smirk creeping onto his features.

“Doc, i really think that-” It was the other guard who spoke up. Both of them holding nothing on their features but fear. It was clear that they never even bothered with Sukuna. The rumors had been enough to make every guard turn a blind eye.

“Hey, it’s fine. Okay? This is what i do.” It really was. The guard gave you a curt nod and a sigh when you clasped both his hands in your smaller one. Offering him a reassuring nod.

“If anything happens, us and about five others are stationed close. Good luck Doc.”

You gave him a small thanks, your head held high as the door was pulled open roughly. Revealing a pink haired man who sat on his bed against the walls, his eyebrow raising when you dared to step inside. Nodding to the guard to close the door.

You might as well have been a dead woman.

“You’re scared.” His deep voice rung out, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled out a small chair that was tucked away near the sink.

“And how do you know, Sukuna?” Your tone was steady, letting out a breath when the shakiness you felt wasn’t reflected in your voice.

Sukuna hummed, his smirk widening when you spoke to him like a normal being. To stuttering, no harshness. Just your sweet voice saying his name. “I can smell it, Doc.” He loved the way you tried to hide your squirm under his gaze.

“So, Sukuna. Tell me something about yourself.” You steered away from his accusation, holding eye contact even when he leaned forward. Taking you in from head to toe. You were hot, he liked that. You seemed to like being confident too. And God did you smell fucking delicious.

He wanted to eat you alive.

Break you.

Use you.

He really did. But you were so fascinating, and he’d only just met you. Who knew how entertaining you could be.

“I’ve killed people.” He was blunt, eyes almost begging you to keep asking these ridiculous questions. It was making his cock twitch.

“Well Sukuna, that is common knowledge, don’t ya think? I wanna know something else.. tell me a secret hmm?” You leaned forward with a smile, elbows rested on your knees as you looked to him for a response.

He reciprocated your actions, leaning forward until you felt his hot breath fan over your face. “A secret huh? Alright Doc..” he watched as your breathing sped up, using every strength in your body to not pull back. You were brave, he liked that. “I surprisingly don’t wanna kill you right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said right now, didn’t say anything about later.” He pushed away from you, one of his knees up to his chest when he leaned back against the concrete wall behind him. “Let me ask you, Doctor. Are you stupid?”

Your head tilted at where this was going. You were supposed to be the one asking the questions. But a conversation was two sided, this would’ve made things easier. “I’d like to believe not. Why do you ask?”

“Because you really think that if i try to kill you, some measly guards would come to your rescue.” He scoffed.

“But you don’t want to kill me. That’s all that matters.”

Fair.

Sukuna watched as you took a quick peek down at his files. There was something that you missed, that much was evident. “Finally found it huh?”

“I haven’t found anything that i didn’t see before.” You objected, glancing to the door with your lip hanging loosely between your teeth.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He demanded lowly, watching with lidded eyes as you let your plump bottom lip, slick after running your tongue over it, fall back into place. Sukuna breathed deeply, finally looking away from you as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes with his head rested behind him.

There was something about you that he wanted a taste of. It was driving him crazy..er, “I never did anything to these other doctors. They were just weak. Got scared way too fast.”

“And what did you do to scare them away?”

“Nothing.” He spat, “They came in here acting all high and mighty, talked to me like i was beneath them. So i simply didn’t bother to hide how much i wanted to strangle them. And somehow that makes me the bad guy right Doc?”

You shook your head, “No, you have a right to respect too. They should never have treated you as unequals.” Lying was all in the job description.

“Good try Doc. But you and i both know that’s a load of crap.” He finally peeled his eyes back open, and you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to how attractive he was in the dim light. He was extremely built, and had the facial structure that made you clench your thighs. “Now, we gonna finish our game of twenty one questions or not?”

He was actually being cooperative.

“Yes we are. How about i start?”

“I’ll start.” There was no room for objection in his tone. “What’s your name?”

You contemplated whether to tell him or not, eventually letting it out with ease. Though you missed the small smile tugging at his lips when he muttered a small “cute.”

“My turn, what was your childhood like?” You watched his face grow cold, a small glare being directed at anything in the room but you. “Next question.”

“Sukuna..”

“I said next question. How old are you?”

You sighed, “I’m twenty eight.” His eyes widened, that was extremely young for a doctor. “Is there one good memory you have from before you killed for the first time?”

“I had twin kittens. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You were taken aback by the question, mouth opening and closing a few times before you chuckled. “No. I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.”

You jumped when the door was yanked open, the guard eyeing Sukuna warily before nodded to you. “Your time’s up, Doc.”

“Oh, already? Could we get just a few more minutes?”

“You know how dangerous he is Doc.. we can’t risk it.”

“You heard the man. I’m dangerous, Doctor.”

You nibbled at your lips softly, and Sukuna fought a groan as you did exactly what he warned you not to. Standing up, you gave Sukuna a warm smile, the gesture making his stomach get all weird inside. “Goodbye until our next session Sukuna.”

He only hummed, the door being shut behind you as you were led away.

It was back to darkness.

There was more than enough light, sure. But it suddenly felt so empty without you there.

—

You couldn’t keep Sukuna off your mind when you arrived home. A part of you just really wanted to figure him out. The other actually liked his company.

You must’ve been so sick in the head. Splashing your face with cold water as you mentally scolded yourself. What was wrong with you? He was a criminal.

—

The next morning you walked the path that you had taken the previous day to get to Sukuna. This time without the guards following you.

There was only one who stood outside of the door to let you in with a small nod of acknowledgement.

Sukuna’s head perked up at the familiar clicking of those heels you wore. His signature smirk on his face as he stared you down. “Just couldn’t get enough huh Doc? Aren’t you forgetting that i’m dangerous?”

You took a seat, no file in had this time. “Good morning Sukuna, how are you?”

“If i said better now that you’re here, would that be cliché?”

You laughed, an actual laugh. A sweet one that made his heart flutter the tiniest bit while blood rushed to his groin.

“It’s very good to see you too. How about we get started yeah?” You paused as you collected your thoughts. “You seem to be heavily affected by people calling you.. dangerous. Why?”

“Everybody is dangerous. It just takes pushing at the right buttons to get it out of them. Half of the people here have done just as bad as i have yet i’m the only dangerous one. Makes so much sense right?.”

He shook his head. “Tell me Doctor, do you really think i just happened to get caught? That i couldn’t get out of this damn place if i wanted too? Hell, tell me you realize that i could drop a good twenty more bodies right here, right now.”

You shifted in your seat. “I think that you let yourself get caught because you’re tired. Because there’s a small sense of peace you get from being in here. And i think that you aren’t trying to leave because you don’t want to.”

“You almost had it Doc. See, i was well on my way out until you came. So i might stick around for just a little bit longer.”

Your heart fluttered, for you? Giving up on fighting the rational side of you as you continued to engage in conversation. Getting Sukuna to slowly open up to you more.

“Do you have any friends Sukuna?”

“I don’t consider people friends. They just exist alongside me.”

“If I asked you to be your friend, what would you say?” It was routine, but you really were curious.

“I’d say you came be whatever you want to be Doc.”

Another flutter.

“Have you ever been in love Sukuna?”

He was silent, jaw clenching as his gaze got harsh. “Next question.”

“What was she like?”

“I said next fucking question Doctor.”

“And i said, what was she like?” You leaned forward, pressing for him to answer the question.

“You’re stubborn aren’t you? I wonder what my hand would loom like around that pretty little neck.” He grinned, sharp teeth peeling from beneath his lips as he brought his face to yours. “She was a lot like you.”

“What happened to her?” You knew how touchy that question would’ve been.

“Nothing. The bitch left.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in confusion, “I never said she died.”

“Yes. But that’s only physically. When she broke your heart she died to you. And that hurts just as bad.”

He was silent, studying your eyes. Trying to get a read on you. “What else do you want to know Doc?”

You were getting somewhere.

Sukuna found you smart. Thought that you knew a lot. Found it hot how good you were at cracking him. But it pissed him off that the one thing you didn’t seem to pick up was how much it hurt to watch you leave at the end of each session.

—

A week later had led to a Monday morning where you hadn’t gone to the prison. You had quite an agenda for the day that could cost you your job if you didn’t get it done.

That was something Sukuna was obviously clueless about. It was why he thought you’d just decided to up and go after he had just started liking to have you around. After he’d started opening up to you.

It was also why he was causing a fit. Yelling at guards to get you to him now. That he wanted to see you. Needed to see you. A line of men laying knocked out atop each other from being sent to ‘handle’ the crazed prisoner.

Would you really not come back? Would you really abandon him? It seemed like that was common with the people he cared even the slightest for.

Sukuna’s fist met the wall near his bed, knuckles bloodied as he cracked into the hard surface. Chest heaving up and down heavily when his hands reached to tug at strands of pink.

He blinked when he heard the clicking of heels on the tiles. Immediately scowling at the unfamiliarity of them. “Who the fuck is this?” He growled through the small window.

“This is Dr Smith, she’s-”

“I don’t fucking care who she is. Bring me my doctor. Now.”

—

Back at your flat, you dropped the piles of paper in front of you at the sound of your phone ringing.

It was a number you didn’t have saved.

“Hello, Doctor ___ speaking- yes? Oh my. I- i am so sorry. Yes, i will be there right away.”

What had you done?

You practically ran through the halls after parking outside the building. Finding many guards posted outside his door with guns in hand. Some of them spotting very black and blue eyes.

“You can all go now.” You panted, it was clear that you had been in a hurry. “Please.”

They all shared a look, finally walking away and allowing you to slowly open the door.

“Where were you?”

“I’m really sorry Sukuna. I was so busy today and-” you gasped when a hand reached out to wrap around your neck. Slamming you into the wall behind you with his face buried in your neck.

Sukuna inhaled your floral scent, groaning to himself as his grip on your delicate skin tightened. “So you just left me here today? Am i not as important as your other little patients? Is that it hmm?”

Deep down, you had hurt his feelings. And he couldn’t help the way he clung to you as your hand lifted to his cheek. Turning his face to look down at yours.

“N-no i promise you. You’re just as important as anyone else. I would have never missed our session if i didn’t have to.”

“Make it up to me.”

It was the perfect opportunity.

“W-what?”

“Strip for me Doctor.” He let go of your neck, letting you catch your breath while looking up at him timidly.

“Sukuna..”

“Why so shy now doctor? We both know you want to.”

You shook your head, shrinking under his gaze with a protesting whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sukuna. This is very unprofession— ahh.”

Sukuna brought his knee up between your thighs, pressing it into your clothed clit. His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin as he breathed deeply. “You can always leave if you want to. I’m used to that after all.”

You shifted on your feet when your back arched. A small whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away from you and gestured to the door.

He smirked, “Blouse first.”

You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was on display. The heavy swell of your breasts causing Sukuna’s mouth to water when he nodded to the bra.

With your eyes still on his you let your breasts spring out of their confinement. Two pert nipples pointing right at him as his dick rose. His hand palming himself under the pair of black pants with a shiver. “C’mere.”

You walked over to him on shaky legs. Sitting down on his lap with your head to the floor. “Uh uh,” His hand reached under the your chin to force your eyes back on his. “None of that Doc.”

You moaned when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples. Sucking your breast into his mouth while he palmed at the other. “These are even more perfect outside that tight fucking shit of yours.”

Sukuna watched as you shivered when he ran his finger down your belly. Cupping your clothed cunt with the jerk of his hips into your ass. “Fuck.. take that off.”

You hurriedly peeled off your pants, Sukuna’s pupils dilating at the sight of your lace panties. “Wore this just f’me hmm Doc? All this for Mr Dangerous.” He groaned out.

Sukuan didn’t give you a chance to respond before flipping you onto the hard mattress they called a bed. Lifting your heel clad feet onto his shoulders with his head hovering over your pussy. His tongue darting out to lick at the wet spot building from your arousal. “You’re real dirty f’ a doctor.” He teased, glancing behind him with a chuckle. “Imagine if you got caught.”

Your eyes shot up to the small window, taking note of the vacant corridor as per your request.

“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna devour that pretty pussy.” He breathed, large hand ripping the flimsy fabric to expose your glistening folds. “Hmm, this wet all for me.”

You mewled when his long tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Swirling around your clit before sloppily dipping into your hole. His hums sending vibrations through your clit as he lapped at your dripping slick.

“Sukuna—” you mewled, back arching as you reached for his hair. Tugging softly with the curl of your toes when his tongue and fingers swapped places. The two joints fucking up roughly into your g spot as he sucked noisily at your clit. “F-fuckk, nngh— so good.” You cried out, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as your body filled with pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that Doc? Bet you wanna get that greedy cunt stuffed right after.” He grunted, your eyes rolling back in a string of muffled moans as your other hand shot up to your lips.

Your legs began to tremble, Sukuna’s smirk growing wider and wider until he stopped his movements. Watching as you blinked down at him with a sniffled whine.

“You left me. You know how much that fucking hurt? I thought i would never see you again.”

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry. Yeah, yeah.. i know.” He rolled his eyes, crawling over your body with a sigh. Using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before pressing his lips to yours. Making you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fell deeper into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction as his lips moves hungrily on yours. Pulling away with a string of salvia connected you to him.

“Let’s reverse the roles yeah?” He whispered, standing up to sit in the chair that you usually sat in. “So, my adorable little patient.. put these tiny fingers to work on that clit of yours. I want you to make yourself cum.”

You whimpered, your fingers immediately meeting your sensitive clit with a shiver.

“You know what to do.” He encouraged. Your fingers beginning to rub small circles on the small bud before speeding up. Little gasps and moans falling past your lips as your stomach burned with heat.

Your eyes locking onto Sukuna’s red ones as his head tilted. Just like it had the first day you met him. “Ahh, K-kuna. Fuckk.” You cried, head falling back with your eyes still on his. The primal look in his eyes making your insides flutter as he did nothing but watch you. Not even freeing his painfully hard cock.

“Sukuna— c-can’t. Can’t hold it.” Your voice cracked, body shaking lightly as your orgasm washed over you.

“Yes you can.”

“Nngh, can’t Kuna. Need to let go.”

He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, your breathing getting heavy as you desperately waited on his permission.

He leaned his head back, eyes boring into your fingers working your wet cunt before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You came with a silent moan, body spasming uncontrollably as your pussy leaked onto his only pair of sheets.

“Dirty, dirty girl. Look at that mess.” You shied away feom his gaze. “And look at how hard you made me. Come fix it.”

You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels as you fell to your knees before him. Looking up at him through your lashes while pulling down his pants.

You blinked at the mere size of his bulge. He was huge. Tugging off his underwear to reveal his thick, veiny length. Pointing up to the sky with a fiery red tip. “Suck.”

You took him past your lips, barely able to take even half of him before he hit the back of your throat. Your fist stroking all the parts of him you couldn’t take.

Sukuna groaned, head flinging back with another strained one at how good your mouth felt. “S-shit doc. You really got a mouth on ya.” He gasped, eyes meeting yours as you attempted to take him down your throat. Your drool coating both your lips and his cock as you lewdly sucked him off.

He took your head into his hold, letting you do your own thing as he grunted with each jerk of his hips. Defined abs tensing when he grew closer to his release.

“Fuck Doc, gon’ shoot my cum down that tight throat of yours.” He breathed. Holding you down onto him as you gagged and sputtered lightly, Sukuna’s cock twitching before you felt the warm liquid run down your throat.

“Wish i could fuck that pussy so bad.” He let go of your head, wiping a drop of his cum from your chin before pushing his finger past your lips. Watching as you sighed in content while sucking every last drop. “It’s too bad that in about one minute those guards are gonna come get you Doc. Our session is over.”

You had no time to question how he knew. Scurrying to redress with widened eyes.

Sukuna may not have had a clock. Nor was he able to distinctly see the sun rise and set. But he’d learned to count the seconds when you were around. He knew how much time he had with you.

“And… now.”

At that very moment the door swung open. Sukuna having easily pulled back up his pants after giving you your seat back. Both of you looking as professional as you possibly could.

“See you tomorrow Doc.” He smiled innocently, watching as you scrambled out while avoiding his eyes.

You really fucked up now.

It was hard to keep him out of your mind before. But now, trying was futile. You’d gotten a taste and you needed more. Which was why your brain would not let you close your eyes without thinking of him fucking you.

—

The next morning you bit back a whimper as your clit was caught between your rubbing thighs. You had worn a tight pencil skirt with no panties. Just for Sukuna.

You were thankful that the guards had complied to your wishes of them leaving.

You wanted to stop yourself. To go back home and forget about the red eyed prisoner. He may not have been dangerous to you physically. But to your heart and mind.. he’d be the death of you.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself bring pushed roughly into the same wall as last time. Sukuna letting out an animalistic groan as he captured your lips on his. Kissing you so much more feverishly than yesterday.

“You don’t know how much i need you. Didn’t even sleep last night.” He panted, turning you around so that your chest rested against the concrete surface. “Missed you so much Doc.” His voice softened, kissing down your neck while grinding up into you. His fingers finding their way under your skirt with a smirk against your skin. “And i thought you couldn’t get any dirtier.. no panties huh?”

You moaned when he prodded at your already dripping cunt. The thought of him being enough to have gotten you soaked. “Shit- tell me what you want Doc. Let me hear you say it.” He growled lowly, ready to snap the second the words left your mouth.

“Please— please fuck me.”

Sukuna hungrily shoved your skirt up. The fabric bunching at your hips as he freed his aching cock. Both of you letting out a noise of satisfaction when he sunk into you, his large hands holding tightly onto your hips to pull you into him. Your back arching as your hands shot out to the wall for support.

“O-ohh God.” You cried loudly, your lips parted in shaky moans as Sukuna’s cock rammed deep near the entrance of your cervix. His veins grazing at your g spot as the fat girth stretched you to your limit.

“Nah baby, ‘s only me.”

“Kunaa— so goood- ahhh.” Tears pooled in your eyes, Sukuna’s hand reaching into your hair to pull you back into his chest. Your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as he destroyed yours.

“Taking me so fucking well. Shit- pussy’s so damn snug.” He husked, hips snapping noisily into yours as he fucked into your walls mercilessly. Basking in the sounds of your choked screams and mewls. The way you sobbed underneath him when your knees buckled.

He was fucking you so hard and deep. Better than anything you’d felt before. His cock slamming into all the places that would drive you crazy.

“The day you fucking leave me i will break outta here Doc. And i will find you. You’re mine got it?” There was a certain seriousness in his voice that made goosebumps arise on your skin. Your salty tears mixing with your drool as they ran down your flushed face.

“And when i do get outta here you’re gonna have my baby Doc. ‘M gonna fuck you again and again till’ i eventually give you my fuck—ing kid.” His breathing became ragged, your body rocking forward with each of his movements.

He smirked. “I’ve fucked ya this dumb already?” His cock twitching inside you as your body moved with his cock like a fleshlight. Your vision blurred as your head grew light, dizzy. You couldn’t think, every roll of Sukuna’s hips clouding your mind as you let an incoherent babble drip off your tongue. Shakily chanting his name when he reached forward to pinch at your clit.

“Look at you. Look so pretty underneath me like this.” His free hand snaked up to your neck, groaning loudly at the feeling of your heart beat on his skin. Pulling you up so your back rested flat against his broad chest, wandering lips meeting your exposed collarbone. “Let go f’me.”

Your body quivered as you tightened around him. Letting out a whimper-like cry as you came messily on his cock. A breathy moan of his own sounding in your ear when his thrusts began to get sloppy.

“Kunaaa.. inside. Want you inside. ‘M on the pill.” You begged, legs giving way as he held you flush against him.

“Whatever you want, Doc.” Slowly coming to a halt as he buried himself inside your warmth, tongue darting out to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Feeling his cock swell as he pumped you full of his cum. Painted your gummy walls in nothing but white

“Looks like i’m sending you back with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He pulled out with a grin. His cum leaking out of your fluttering cunt in small spurts when he used his hands to knead at the flesh of your ass. “Hottest thing i’ve seen in a while.. after you of course.”

You hummed, eyes shutting as you fell into him. Feeling the thick substance slowly dripping down your legs while spreading over your sticky folds. Sukuna stumbled back onto his bed with you on top of him. Your face nestling into his chest with a soft smile. “Hey Doc.. i love ya but those guards are gon’ be back soon.”

‘So worth it.’ Was the one thought branding itself into your mind as your body registered the rough, lust filled fuck.

“Shit.”

—

You and Sukuna had gotten so much closer over yet another week. You had never believed in falling in love that quickly until now. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much better when he was around. Seeing him was the highlight of your day- especially now that you’d convinced for longer sessions.

He felt the same way. You were the second person he had fallen in love with and somehow even harder. You made his heart.. swell. And he was serious about busting out to start a life with you.

“So, your first love. We never finished talking about her.” You smirked, notepad back in hand as you did your job. Sukuna having been stealing small kisses from you between every question.

“How about we forget about my first love and focus on my current one. You.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #divider by cafekitsune #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x you #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut

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sceletaflores · 2 months ago

Text

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck.

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room.

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in.

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you.

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat.

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh.

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him.

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before.

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands.

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer.

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response.

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning.

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come.

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth.

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering.

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

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imaginedisish · 3 months ago

Text

My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?

Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...

You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly.

It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend.

So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time.

“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”

“Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”

For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy.

The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep.

Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”

“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg.

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his.

He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time.

His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses.

“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”

Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back.

“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”

Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.”

Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body.

“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.

Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"

But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him.

“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”

“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him.

“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”

“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.”

Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs.

Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands.

You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”

Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.

You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan.

You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face.

“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot.

Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully.

You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.

Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.

You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?”

Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.

Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off.

Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you.

“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow.

“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response.

You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”

You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.”

Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little.

“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.

Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.

“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder.

He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

It is not going well, or fine.

Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand.

You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail.

This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge.

So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration.

“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”

The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer.

He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”

You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”

“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”

“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door.

You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.”

Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”

You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious.

You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts.

He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.

You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom.

You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together.

You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience.

And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together.

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.

You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”

The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.

A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls.

Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again.

You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.

Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”

You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.

Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold.

“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”

Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?”

“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood.

You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?”

Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours.

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand.

You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him.

“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”

“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you.

“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?”

You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”

Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!”

“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down.

“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”

You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension.

“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.

He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of.

Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.

Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him.

“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”

“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts.

You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.”

Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb.

“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”

“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.

He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”

“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.

Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud.

You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds.

“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”

But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead.

“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?”

His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace.

His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish.

Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours.

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”

“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust.

“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…

“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”

Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.”

“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”

“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”

You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s.

The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened.

“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”

You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”

Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly.

“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”

tags: @cosmiccandydreamer @alsoprettyinpink @alastorssimp @1800-fight-me @iamburdened @chaoticweirdogeek @loganobsessed @seasonofthenerd @witch-lemon @the-occasional-artist1125 @https-murdock @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

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bunnis-monsters · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW

Fairy x Reader PT2

PT1

warning: somno, dubcon to consensual, size difference, aphrodisiac, tentacles(?)(vines😩)

Your little fairy friend became more enamored with you as time went on. Every night he came into your home and fucked your soft, plump lips.

And recently, he had gotten brave. Tonight he flew to the middle of the bed, standing over your lower belly and peeking down at your panties.

He had been waiting for a night hot enough for you to sleep in your underwear since the blanket was too heavy to lift.

He reached out his hand and felt your damp panties, his wings fluttering in excitement as he pressed down, biting his lip when his hand met your clit.

He could tell it was your clit when your hips bucked slightly, causing him to be tossed in the air before landing on your chubby belly.

The fairy shook off the fall before returning to his task, this time sticking out his tongue to get a taste of your pussy for the first time.

Licking the damp fabric made his wings twitch, his cock rising to attention from your taste alone.

How could he go back to being a good little fairy when you were so tempting?

For the first time he, he was finally able to pull back the fabric off your pussy, revealing it to him.

It was so pretty, smelling so sweet and when he touched it, the fairy noticed how soft and wet you were.

He chittered in excitement, some of his fairy dust landing on your cunt, causing you to whimper softly in your sleep.

The fairy purred, positioning his pretty little cock at your entrance, trying so hard to fuck you. It frustrated him, not being able to fill you up and make you cry out in pleasure.

As he focused on fucking you, the opening of your eyes and shifting of you upper body went unnoticed by the little fae.

He out a squeak, his wings flapping in distress as he was picked up by his tunic, held in the air. The fairy’s face turned beet red when he spotted your sleepy face looking at him.

It looked like he had been caught.

“So you’re the one that’s been giving me wet dreams every night…”

His face turned red, and a little jingle could be heard as he shook his head and held up his hands to try and act innocent.

“Don’t lie, I caught you, you little-“

You lifted his tunic, causing him to squeak and squirm, his cock still hard and at attention.

“Here’s the proof, you’re covered in my cum…”

He whimpered when you brought him closer to your face, his pointed ears twitching as he pouted apologetically. He reached out his hand to touch your nose, hoping you wouldn’t be too angry with him.

“You should have just introduced yourself. Hmph, better than leaving me all wet and needy every night.”

The fairy nearly yelped when you poked out your tongue, touching it to his tip. “Ahh… it’s really sweet…”

He held onto your chubby cheeks as your tongue twirled around his leaking cock, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

His little hips bucked and his wings fluttered pathetically while you looked into his eyes.

You teased the poor thing, giving his flat tummy kisses and toying with his cock until he was crying and begging you through tears to give him a break. Once he had cum all he could, you sat him down on your breasts, watching as he panted and buried his head into your cleavage.

“There, is that what you wanted, little fairy?” the feeling of your finger petting his head made him coo and reach out to pull your hand closer.

The fairy was completely attached to you now, wrapping his legs around your hand and clinging to you desperately.

In the following months you and the fairy grew closer, and he was eventually able to communicate his name. It was Fern, and the fairy seemed very adamant that you know his name.

“Fern, are you coming in for lunch?”

You always called out to him through the window by the garden, and he always came flying in, hovering in front of your face and planting a kiss on your lips before settling on your shoulder to accompany you wherever you went.

Fern kept your garden alive, making sure your vegetables grew large and your fruit stayed fresh and sweet. He always came when he heard you…

But today, he hadn’t answered when you called.

You donned your coat and stepped into your shoes before walking out into the forest, calling his name ever so often.

Through rumors you had heard trolls and evil spirits lived in the forest, but before you met Fern you haven’t believed in such things. Now that you knew fairies existed, was it that much of a stretch to say evil creatures existed as well?

It made you worry that something had hurt or captured him! He had told you a few things about his people, communicating through writing. Although you knew he could take care of himself and knew the ways of the forest far better than you did, you still wanted to find him as quickly as possible.

“Fern? Are you here?”

A rustling noise to your left made you jump, and before you could reach you were being lifted up and carried away by a humanoid figure. A scream left your throat, but your mouth was quickly covered, a familiar scent making you pause.

“Shh, shh, my love. It’s just me.”

You blinked rapidly, looking up to see… Fern!?

He was nearly six feet tall now, his glimmering wings shining as he ran through the forest. The sound of trees being crushed and stomped on had gone unnoticed by you until now.

You were being chased!

“Ahh, I hadn’t expected them to be that angry…” Fern said, holding you to his chest as his wings began to flap. You caught sight of a few trolls charging towards you, their mossy, rock like bodies making easy work of the trees around them.

“Hold on tight, dear. We’ll leave for a bit until they calm down…”

He launched into the sky, his face nuzzling you softly to keep you calm as the two of you flew away just before the trolls could reach you.

“W-what did you do to make them so angry with you!?” you yelled over the wind as he dipped closer to the ground, landing in a field of flowers.

“Stole a growth potion.”

“WHAT!?”

He smiled, peppering kisses on your neck. “I had to… can’t you understand how unbearable it is being unable to properly mate with my lover?”

He set you down on a bed of flowers, and their vines tickled your body, wrapping around your legs and pulling at your underwear. “Now that my body is bigger, my control over nature is much stronger…”

The vines pulled your legs apart, keeping them spread open so he could watch the vines rub against your clit.

“F-Fern…”

Noticing your flustered expression, Fern purred in satisfaction, his wings fluttering as he lined up his cock with your tight hole, pressing on it. “Tight… might have to stretch you out…”

He pulled back, and the vines slowly pushed into your warm cunt, stretching and growing inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, whimpering while he rubbed circles into your clit.

Something was pumped into your body, making your mind grow hazy and your body hot. All that was on your mind was getting fucked stupid by these vines, taking them into your holes like a good girl…

One entered your ass, pumping in and out as it lubricated you with the aphrodisiac it produced. It was enough to have you drooling and clinging to your lover, unable to do anything but babble and beg for more.

“You can’t comprehend how badly I’ve wanted this… how much I need you…”

The feeling of his soft, lithe fingers grabbing your fat was overpowered by the vines pulling out, making you whine needily. “P-Please, fern…”

One look at your hazy eyes had his cock drooling with need.

“Shh, shh, love… I’ll fill you back up, don’t you worry…”

He cooed, his shimmering wings flapping uncontrollably as he finally pushed his cock into you, his entire body shaking. “Oh gods, oh my love..”

It was better than he could have ever imagined. You were so warm and tight, and looking down as your fat pussy swallowed his cock was enough to have him flushing red.

You looked so good, fucked out of your mind and holding onto him like a lifeline. It made home feel like a proper mate to have you in this state, dependent on him for pleasure.

“That’s it, darling, my precious flower… cum for me again, just like that…”

He pressed against your cervix, biting down on your neck. You would have never thought he was capable of this, dominating you in such a primal way.

The tables had really turned…

But he was still the sweet fairy you had come to love, burying his face into your neck and letting out the prettiest of moans, tears of pleasure pooling down his cheeks…

It was nearly nightfall when the effects of the aphrodisiac finally wore off, leaving you exhausted and a bit sore. Fern seemed tired too, but he quickly scooped you up, flying back home with you.

“I don’t have much time left before the potion wears off… and I want to spend all of the remaining time holding you…”

He settled down on the bed with you, gently brushing back your hair and kissing your forehead. It felt so good, getting to hold your plump form on his lap and grab fistfuls of your fat with his hands. Fern had wanted this for so long, yearned to touch and feel your warmth with the body of a man.

“Fern… you know I love you no matter what form you take, right?”

You caressed his cheek, leaning forward to muzzle him softly. He sighed and pulled you closer so he could rest his chin on your head.

“I know… that doesn’t mean the knowledge of being too small to give you what you need doesn’t hurt any less…”

The two of you stayed like that, curling up together in bed, too exhausted to stay sitting up.

“… I enjoyed today, Fern…”

He blushed when you kissed his cheek, your body pressed against his. “I did too… more than you could ever know.”

“We should do it again sometime…”

The two of you held hands, his eyes softening as his wings fluttered gently. “… yes…”

He couldn’t help but look at your chubby belly, knowing he’d bred you so full of his seed that it was slightly distended.

Fern began to think of ways he could make the potion more… permanent. Now that he had a taste of life as a human… he wanted more.

When you woke up the next morning, Fern was sitting on your pillow, his form returned back to that of a fairy. All you could do was hold him close, kissing the top of his head to comfort him as his wings drooped.

He wanted you… and he’d find a way to be with you…

part 3?

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans

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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago

Text

Moonstruck

jason todd x reader

aka sober thoughts and all that

warnings: intoxication

Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you.

You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.

You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual.

You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.

You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.

You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously.

“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.

“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”

You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”

He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.

You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.

You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.

You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”

“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.

You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.

“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.

He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”

You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”

He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”

You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”

“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so.

Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.

You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold you in the morning for not locking it.

He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be.

You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.

He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.

You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.

You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”

He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?”

He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.

He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.

You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.

You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”

“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.

You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”

He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips.

“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.

You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”

“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.

Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”

He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”

“Batmobile,” you finish.

“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t.

“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.

“No.”

Enough said.

“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.

He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”

You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”

His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting.

“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear.

You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.

“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”

His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”

You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.

He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”

“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Jay—”

He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”

Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”

He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”

He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”

You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it.

“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.

Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?

You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”

He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.

You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.

💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗

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sapphire-writes · 6 months ago

Text

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester.

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love.

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player.

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more.

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing.

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows.

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin.

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear.

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up.

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs.

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other.

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him.

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that.

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure.

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him.

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly.

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!”

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him.

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes.

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps.

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone.

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest.

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop.

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered.

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field.

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again.

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center.

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs.

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance.

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?”

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers.

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself.

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer.

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit.

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes.

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure.

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch.

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air.

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest.

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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