#chatter near the bar // asks

[doldoldolcetto]

"Hey" I say in a strong sorta sexy masculine voice. "You like men?"

*Dolcetto looked up from the book he was reading, face flat.* "That depends. I dunno how Amestrians are with...different types of people. Considerin' how y'r in here of all places though, I guess I can trust ya. Th' answer is yeah. I don't mind 'em."

[eupheme]

— you’ve got me wanting you

[part iii of sugar, sugar] | [part ii] [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 7.4k

tags: jealous/posessive!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, wingman!wade, flirting, feelings, (another short) miscommunication, immature humor, light angst, use of alcohol, threat of violence, use of alcohol and smoking, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, PiV, creampie

As the days pass, you think your time spent with Logan is pretty much perfect. Well... almost.

(Or - a dash of insecurity, some badgood advice from Wade, a near-fight at a bar, and the confession of overdue feelings.)

Those two nights spent with Logan turn into more.

The days are bleeding together, blurring. You fit well with him, you think. Together in Wade's apartment - spanning that space between their chatter and silence. Softening edges, though you think he's softened, too.

A stray cat coming around. 

Bristling, with narrowed, untrusting eyes. Slowly learning that he can lean into your touch. 

Your days since have been spent humming as you work. It had been an anchor once, this routine of yours. Getting up early used to give you something to get up for. Enjoying the whirlwind of prepping, measuring, making, decorating. 

Now - you're grateful for how quickly the day passes because it means you can't overanalyze. Because it means by the time you catch your breath at the end of the day, you're already heading home to him. 

Takeout was brought over to their apartment. A crappy movie with a hand curled around you, sending your heartbeat racing. The night ending at yours, hours between dusk and dawn spent learning every inch of each other. 

You think it's pretty much perfect.

Well... almost.

“Do you think Logan likes me?”

It slips out of you. Something that’s been worrying at you, a splinter trapped just beneath your skin. You regret asking almost immediately - the sun glinting off the silver needle as you push it through the lycra suit. 

“You mean the guy that’s been fucking your brains out for the past couple weeks?”

“Wade.”

“Oh, sorry.” He lines his knife up, poking a hole in the top of his styrofoam container - coaxing the waitress from lunch to give him a ‘take-home-margarita’. A cheerful “baby knife!” as he sheathes it again,” I mean the guy that’s been having totally-chaste-and-appropriate adult sleepovers with you?”

You understand what he’s getting at. Stalling, holding up his suit - another gash sewn shut with black thread, “You sure this is okay?” 

“Mhmm,” He hums, “Gives me that bride-of-frankenstein vibe I’ve always wanted. Besides, anything is better than before.”

“You insisted, you helpless little man-baby.” Al adds, from her lounge seat, “Learn to dodge.”

Wade splutters - your lips twitching, as you work.

“See what I live with?” He gripes, “Maybe the two of you outta trade. It’d be cramped, but I bet the three of us could sardine it.”

“You wouldn’t last a week without Althea,” You snort. A beat, before you gather the courage to circle back to the topic at hand, “And besides, that’s just it. I’m not sure he wants to sleep with me." 

The summer breeze feels better up here, on the roof. The whip of the wind cooling you, as you work your way across the once-again battered suit - propped up against the brick parapet. 

“Okay, time out. Missing link here.” Wade gives you a sideways look, before his head pivots, "You cannot hit me with this fake virginal act when I literally heard you two fuck an hour after you met."

A beat, "And like, pretty much every day since then. I think I even heard a howl last night-"

Your eyes roll, "Wade. He’s not a werewolf, he did not howl-"

"Well, not anymore.” Wade smirks, “And funny that you assume I meant the Moan Wolf, but I could have meant you-"

You groan, head cradled in your hands, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, we'll keep it down. It's just-"

It’s just you’ve been here before - this liminal space between an excellent physical connection, and more. You've done the hookup thing - casual, friends-with-benefits, lonely strangers. Thought you had learned how to keep your emotions in check, especially with those past experiences.

But you’ve never met someone like Logan before. 

He makes you feel bare. Soft-hearted and stripped down - wearing your feelings on your sleeve. Opening yourself up - only for your fingers to brush up against a brick wall, in return. 

Wade must catch your tone because he sets down the styrofoam container - the pink umbrella tucked against his ear. 

"Alright Sugarbuns, tell Papa Bear what's bothering you." 

You grimace at the names, another flicker of regret lingering in the corners of your mind. But you find yourself talking. Letting those worries flow from you in a rush.  

But Wade would know, wouldn't he? It's his friend, after all. 

"He leaves after."

His eyebrows raise, and you continue, "I mean, he'll stay for a bit but he always winds up on the couch by morning.  I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and he’s out there. I mean, I thought he'd want a bed, after where he's been staying, no offense-"

Thought he’d want to stay with you. 

You nudged at it once. Getting nothing more than a grumbled excuse about not sleeping well, something about nightmares. Something you accepted, only to find him tucked in your bed a few days later - curled in your sheets when you had rushed back to the apartment after leaving your phone. 

Hadn’t wanted to push, even if it confused you. Wouldn’t he want comfort, after a bad dream? You always did. 

"Offense taken, Blind Al and I are excellent bedmates," Wade interrupts, "But please, continue."

His joke eases you a little. Risking a sideways glance, finding him already looking at you.

“I like him, Wade. I just really want this to work out.”

He hums, sympathetically. Knowing all too well the complexities of like and love. How you feel deeper than you’re letting on - he always was perceptive, after all. 

A beat, before your head turns. 

"Do you think it's me?" 

He does laugh then, his shoulder leaning to bump yours, "Sugar, you have a two-hundred-year-old boyfriend who's gone through a massive amount of trauma and has an alcohol problem, and you want to know if it's you?"

"Fuck." The heels of your palms press into your eyes, "Okay, okay-"

"I literally traveled through the void with him, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style. The John Candy to my Steve Martin, and even after saving the world he still wanted to kill me."

"Wait," Your head lifts, "Why would you be Steve Martin in that scenario?"

“He’s the main character, as am I.” He barrels past your question, "The point is, if he didn't like you, you'd know. You just need to be-"

"Patient." You finish, "Yeah, I know." 

And you do know. Even since that first meeting, you've known that he's been eaten up inside. Cracks of the man beneath leaking through his gruff exterior, as you had sat together on that couch. 

But Wade called him your boyfriend, but he's not. Not really - no conversation to indicate that's how he saw himself. 

It just left you confused. Vulnerable. Enough that you did dumb shit like this - going to Wade for romantic advice. The man who proposed with a ring pop and thought that a prostate orgasm was a sign of being soulmates. 

"Maybe you’re giving him too much. Withhold a little," Al interrupts, making you jump, "That's what landed me my second husband. Begged for it like a dog, and was married the next month. God rest his soul."

Wade mouths an exaggerated “what the FUCK" at you, before shooting a dark look in her direction - only just then seeing her smirk.

"Oh, you’re joking? She came to us for help and you’re joking-” A sniff, as Wade turns back, "So anyways, don’t do that. Do something normal. Like internalize it, until it makes you snap."

His face screws up, as he adds, “Or, maybe try it? That bricked me up a bit-”

"Or,” Al adds, “Maybe you should just talk to him, Sugar."

Althea always knew how to cut to the chase and give the hard advice you needed to hear. You just wish you weren’t afraid of the answer.

‘You’re both right,” Your head dips against Wade's shoulder, “I owe you. Again.”

Silence lingering, though it’s not uncomfortable. Leaving you to think about what he said.

The suit passed over to him, when you tie the final knot, “Done.”

“Thanks,” A beat passes, as he gives you a sideways look, “Any chance you want to cash in on that favor tonight?”

You know better than to agree without more info - an eyebrow raising as you wait.

“Vanessa is coming over tonight.” Wade gives you a meaningful look, “It would be great to have the apartment to ourselves for a bit.”

The serious tone does not last, as he smirks, “I fully intend to break my months of celibacy the second the opportunity arises.”

“Months?” You hadn’t realized it had been that long. Thought he would have moved on, in some ways. 

“Years, actually,” He adds, casually, “Turns out my obvious romantic hangups plus this-”

A gesture at his face,” Are a total boner-killer. As well as having an elderly roommate, apparently. Especially one who won’t leave.”

You shoot him a sharp look at the self-deprecation, Al’s voice cutting through.

“I told you, I’m hitting the casino for singles night.”

“Okay. I can drop Al off and pick her up,” Your mind is already racing ahead, “And Logan and I can go out to dinner or something.”

The prospect is exciting. Despite the time spent together, you haven’t really gone on too many dates yet. After your long hours and his rotating work schedule, your meetings have mostly been late-night. Quick meals whipped up in your kitchen. A rotating pile of delivery menus. 

“That would be great.” He smiles, “Thanks, Sugar.”

“Of course.” You smile, before adding, “What are you going to make?” 

A frown, when he hesitates.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to wing it.”

“I wasn’t winging it,” He protests, “I was going to hit up ol’ reliable.”

“For a second-first date? You can’t do takeout from Buns and Roses.”

A sigh, as you turn to face him, tugging out your phone, “You should make something nice. I have this recipe bookmarked for engagement roast chicken. I’ll help you-”

He tugs your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the eight-paragraph opener before the start of the recipe. 

“Make this for her, show her you’re serious-,” You start.

Wade finishes, with a smile. 

“-and there’ll be a cock ring on it before midnight.”

You keep catching yourself looking at him.

It’s almost embarrassing how bad you have it. Still not used to seeing Logan like this - away from your small apartment. 

Seeing him at work was different - a very cognizant realization that you were on the clock. The counter between you like a barrier, even when you slip a coffee and pastry across it. A lightning-quick kiss pressed into his cheek. The relentless teasing from your coworkers, after. 

But here - crammed in a booth, his hand slipping just under the hem of your dress, a palm curved against your thigh - it’s something else, entirely. Even in this dark corner, you have to resist letting your hands wander. Eyes flicking to the deep cut of his button-down flannel - dark hair peeking out from the curve of his white tank. The blue and grey pattern pretty against his skin. 

A curl of smoke pours from his lips, a cigar fit between two fingers. 

Logan had been curious to find you in the apartment when he got home. The aroma of the roast chicken wafting through the space, as you talked Wade through the last steps. The slow sweep of his eyes over the pretty sundress you wore, tugged from the back of your closet. 

It hadn’t taken much convincing, when you asked him to get dinner out with you. Even with Althea in tow, safely dropped off for her night out. 

“This is nice.” You smile, and his eyebrow lifts.

A glance around the room.

Dinner spent at a local pizza joint - stories shared, wound between updates about his new job at the local lumber company. About Laura, who you met two weeks ago. So much like Logan that it still catches you off-guard. Shared expressions, shared tempers. 

You think that it must have been hard for both of them, this reunion. That comparison between the Logan in this world, those memories that stay with her. She views him the same - even you can see that. He’s told you it came as a shock, but it’s easy to see how he’s warmed, with time. Finding joy, within the shared grief.

The conversations spill over into a bar you know well. Unsure what to do with yourselves with the order of “staying away”, the sun still setting when you had stepped inside.

“Not sure nice is the word I’d use, sweetheart.”

“Anywhere is nice if I’m with you. I am sorry, though. I know it’s not-” Your hand waves, shyness creeping in as you lean into his shoulder, “Wasn’t sure where else to kill some time. Dopinder and Buck run a tight ship, it’s really not so bad.”

“Mm. Guess this is nice, then.” He corrects, a hint of a dimple as he smiles, “But you let me take you somewhere safer next time, yeah?”

“I’m safe with you.” 

You miss the way he looks at you, as you take a sip of your drink. The brush of his fingers against your skin. His voice going low, goosebumps rising as he murmurs in your ear. 

“How much longer do we have to stay out?”

A question that’s been on your mind as well. 

“Well, Al’s thing is over at ten,” Your teeth worry at your lip, “But, I guess we could sneak back early. It’s just, Wade-”

“What about Wade?” 

It’s unfair, how he crowds you in the booth. Torso twisting to face you. The warmth of his hand - how you’re aware of each and every movement he makes. It takes you a moment to answer.

“Wade is… Wade,” You manage, “But he doesn’t really ask for much. I owe him, you know?”

“You owe him?” He chuckles, “He’s lucky you stuck around after he tried to give you cocaine-”

“Hey,” You smile, “That was Al.”

That had been your second run-in with your neighbors. Only desperation had sent you over to the apartment, needing a cup of powdered sugar for a personal favor. Under-estimating how much you needed, in your rush to finish some cookies for a friend’s baby shower. 

Meeting Al instead. The powdered substance swapped when her roommate had rearranged the apartment as a prank. Only Wade bursting from the bathroom, a towel slung low from his hips, had saved you from disaster. The nickname had formed when you hadn’t written them both off. 

“And besides, Wade was the one who introduced me to you.”

Logan’s expression softens, “That is something, isn’t it?”

He holds your gaze for a long moment. Eyes drifting lazily down to your lips, with a low hum, then further. It sends a heat blooming in your cheeks, an unconscious press of your thighs together.

“I’m, um, gonna let Dopinder know we’re heading out.” You breathe, “He’ll worry if we irish goodbye.”

“You sure?” He husks, with another exhale of smoke - and you can feel the heat rising from your cheeks to your ears. 

“Yes,” It comes out breathy.

“Um, yeah. You finish that, and I’ll be right back.”

Your elbows pressing into the sticky bartop as you wait - watching Dopinder work his way through pouring pints of beer for a crowd of bikers, all in dark leather.

A glance over your shoulder, finding the booth tucked in the corner. The dark head of hair, the expanse of his shoulders - a thick arm slung across the back - as Logan waits for you. 

It makes you smile, and you almost miss the bump of a shoulder against yours.

“Oh!” You squeak, shifting to the side to make room, “I’m so sorry, I-”

The apology dies on your tongue, as you glance up at the man leaning against the wooden post at the end of the bar. Eyes drifting over the black field jacket, up to dark eyes. 

“Been a while, darlin’.” 

You inhale a breath, in surprise. Close to two years ago, if you remember right. Numerous meetings spread out over months, before he slipped out of your fire escape and into the early morning.

No note, no text. Walking out just as suddenly as he had appeared.

It had never been anything serious - he had made that clear - but you can’t pretend that it hadn’t hurt. 

“It has,” You agree, a low twist in your belly, “How have you been? Didn’t think I’d see you outside Hell’s Kitchen.”

Unable to help that flicker of worry, even after everything. It’s always been ingrained in you - thinking of others more than yourself. 

“Should ask you the same,” His eyebrow arches, “This isn’t your kind of place. Taking up mercenary work, beautiful?”

“I’m here with someone.” It comes out clipped, a glance over your shoulder - the nerves eased when you spot his form.   

“Mountain man?” 

A scoff - lip curling over sharp teeth, “Taking you to a place like this… You can do better than that. You can do-”

“You?” It’s your turn for your brow to raise, “We both know how that goes, Frankie. This-”

A pointed finger, gesturing around the room, “Was my idea. Things are different. I’m different.”

There’s the hint of a smirk - dark eyes that drag slowly down. Flicking back up to yours, as his voice pitches low, “I’m sure some things are the same.”

Your head shakes, “Not like that.”

There are lingering shades of purple that fade to yellow across his cheekbone. Never was good with this. All that time spent glancing out your window, waiting for him to show up, battered and bloody like he used to. All he did was keep you out, keep you at arm’s length.

Maybe that’s why you’re afraid of it happening again. A little shake of your head - a reminder that you need to be patient like Wade said. Logan isn’t him.

“I know what I want, and it’s-” The words die, as you look for him, again. Finding only an empty booth - your stomach tying up into knots. 

A palm touches at your hip, a chest pressing snugly against your back. Startling you, as you breathe, “Logan.”

“This asshole bothering you, sweetheart?” It’s growled out, Logan’s eyes fixed on the other man. 

“Nice guard dog.” There’s an amused appraisal - narrowed eyes, tongue trapped against teeth. “He do tricks as well?

The fingers at your hip curl, the smallest tug backward to bring you closer. The words ground out between bared teeth.

“You watch it.”

Christ. This was bad, you need to find your tongue - and quickly. 

You twist, a hand resting on his chest. Only now does Logan’s eyes drop to yours, the tight pull to his features only just ebbing.

“This is Logan,” You smile, your palm pressing over his heart, “He’s, uh, my-”

And for a brief second, your words fail you. The tension is thick enough to cut, acrid in the air. Would labeling this right now send him running? 

The man cuts through before you can finish.

“Frank Castle.” His eyes flick back to yours, as he adds, “Sure you can guess how we know each other.”

The muscles beneath your palm twitch. A light pressure against your hip, urging you away from the bar - the words low in your ear, “Alright. Let’s go.”

A nod, and you’re giving Frank a tight smile - letting Logan guide you towards the back. No more than a step taken before his voice cuts through.

“You still got my number?”

You shoot him an exasperated look, “Frank-”

“Gonna be back in town for a while, baby girl.” His arms cross, as he leans, “Call me when things don’t work out.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before a fist closes around the collar of his jacket. Logan stepping into his space, a forearm shoving Frank hard as he pins him against the post.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, bub.”

Fights are common in Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, but you can’t say you’ve ever experienced one. Fear licks inside you, meeting Dopinder’s equally worried gaze as he starts to rush over.

Frank’s smile is dark, “You don’t want to start this.”

It’s met with a growl. Silver points peeking between the dips of Logan’s knuckles, the fabric straining in his tight grip.

“Fucking try me, you piece of shit.”

There’s a metallic click - the press of something cold against Logan’s groin. 

“Should shoot your dick off for that.” 

“Okay!” You shove between them, then. A hand on Logan’s arm, tugging - the other at his neck, trying to guide him back to you. 

“Hey. It’s okay,” It’s softer now, soothing, “Baby, let’s go.”

His hazel eyes are wild when they find yours. Face twisted in a snarl, deepened with the shadows cast in the dim room. Blinking, as he comes back to himself. A dark look as his arm eases - stepping away.

This time, it’s you that leads him towards the back exit. Something gritted out as you leave that you miss, but sends Logan bristling. An apologetic look thrown at Dopinder, before you’re stepping together through the swinging door, into the wood-paneled hallway. 

Ducking down one of the hallways, next to matching doors leading to bathrooms, and a storage closet. An exit sign, gleaming red at the end. 

The music and voices are muffled. His face silhouetted in the light of a vintage beer sign, his features outlined in gold as his back presses against the wall. A gritted, inhaled breath.

You haven’t seen him like this before. Seen him mad several times. Grouchy and annoyed with Wade. The sharp temper that hid his hurt when he thought you didn’t want him.

None of those moments match him now. You’re not sure what to make of it - the way your skin prickles. Something in your belly flutters, a warmth that drips from behind your ribs, settling low. You never wanted anyone to get hurt. But that look in his eyes, how quick we was to find you - it makes you inhale a breath.

“We-,” You start - your fingers still curled around his bicep, “We should talk about this. You okay, Logan?”

His eyes flick to yours, jaw working. The fury has bled from them, the sharp etches in his face easing, even as his expression stays guarded. 

“Yeah. ‘m fine.” Logan rasps, “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

A beat, before it slips from him, “Was he one of the ones Wade scared away?”

“What?” It takes you a long moment to remember. Your brow pinching, as you shake your head,” Frank? No. It was-”

The pull of his brow is back, his frown deepening with your explanation. 

“It was just casual.” You finish, lamely, “It wasn’t anything. Never was.”

“Didn’t sound that way.” It’s gritted out. 

His head turns, eye contact dropping. A hand, raking through his hair - pushing the dark strands back, “Listen. If you want to go with him, it’s fine.”

You’re left stunned for a moment. His jaw working, hands jamming into his pockets. It’s defensive - it’s familiar. 

“I don’t want to go with him-” You start, but it only makes him sigh. 

“Then what were you gonna say, Sugar?” The look he finally gives you is searching, “I’m your, what-, your neighbor?”

“No!” You cry, “I was going to say you’re my boyfriend, but you’ve never-”

Logan’s pitches low, “I’ve never what?”

Your shoulders droop. Curling around yourself, as you lean into the wall next to him. He leans, matching your height - trying to catch your eyes. 

“I don’t know, Logan.” It’s almost too quiet to hear. He might have, if he had been anyone else. “I told you I liked you the day after meeting you. But you…”

A little shake of your head, “You keep everything so close to your chest. You leave in the night. It’s okay, I just… sometimes I don’t know what to think.”

When his arms cross this time, there’s something in his eyes. A dark glimmer, the tug of his lips.

“You think that I don’t like you, sweetheart?”

A tilt of his head, a sharp edge slipping into his tone, “You think I wasn’t ready to tear that asshole limb from limb for talking to my girl that way?”

Something low in your belly twists, desire thrumming in an echo that radiates through you. A sharp inhale of breath at his words.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You manage, transfixed.

It’s easier, this time, for him to step into you. Hands ghosting along your neck. Tipping your face to his, so you can’t look away. Can’t miss what he tells you.

“If-, if I open up.” It comes out hushed, his words soft and low, “You won’t like what you see, Sugar.” 

You reach for him - fingers curling around his wrists, “I like what I see just fine.”

He huffs. The barest hint of a smile, before his expression goes solemn. 

“This,” The word is punctuated by the way his thumb sweeps against your cheek, “Never goes well for me. Sleeping on the couch puts me between you and anything coming through that door.”

Your pulse races with the remorse in his words. He’s touched on the barest of details of his past. Those small moments shared in the night you met, riddled confessions in the late nights that have followed. 

“And the things I dream about-,” His eyes go hazy - lost in a memory, “They pull me back. I don’t want to hurt you because I can’t tell them from reality.”

The words slip from you automatically, without thought. Guilt floods through you, an ache from wondering - doubting. 

“You won’t hurt me.” 

“I will.” He breathes, “Sweetheart, I will. It’s not an if, it’s a when.”

Your head shakes - a stubborn set of your jaw, “You won’t. Please don’t shut me out, Logan. Please try…”

He huffs - eyes dropping to your mouth, as he leans. Hands slipping to cup your head, angle you to meet the press of his lips. A soft sigh that you swallow, something tender in the way he draws you to him. A hand curling around your back, splaying between your shoulder blades.

“Give me some time, okay?” Logan murmurs, when the kiss breaks, “Let me draw out the first good thing I’ve had in a long time. Just for a little longer.”

“Don’t have to draw it out.” Your body still curves to his, anchoring yourself to him. A hand touching his jaw so this time, his eyes have to stay on you.

“You deserve good things, Logan.” Your mouth brushes his, “Let me give them to you.”

The sound he makes is almost wounded, as if he wants to protest. 

As if he wants to believe you.

Breath ragged, as his hands trace down to grip at your hips. Leaning into you, your touch. What you offer him. A thigh fitting between yours, nudging against your core - and you think surely he must see how your eyes darken.

The rapid flutter of your heart, how it races for him and only him.

“Yeah?” He husks, as if reading your mind, “You ready to get out of here, Sugar?”

“Bathroom.” You breathe.

“Can’t wait that long.”

He’s on you the second the door swings shut. Fingers twisting at the lock, as his head dips - mouth finding yours again.

There’s a desperation to his kiss this time. One that you match with the way your palms trace up his chest. Fingertips at his neck, tugging him to meet you.

A thrill shoots up your spine. You’ve never done anything quite like this before. The space behind your ribs is soft and tender from his confession - already breathless before he deepens the kiss.

Backing you up against the old, chipped vanity that lines the wall. The stalls hanging open - empty as his hands trail down your spine. Fitting beneath the curve of your ass, tugging you up to fit on the counter. 

Finding your jaw again - guiding your lips to his, meeting the sweep of your tongue as he fits between your thighs. 

“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” He breathes, against your lips, “So fucking pretty, you know that?”

It sends a pulse through you, down to where you’re already responding to his touch. Your knees close around his hips, urging him closer. 

“Logan, please,” You hum, fingers tugging at his belt buckle. A palm pressing against the front of his jeans, where his cock strains against the denim. 

His moan is ragged, bucking into your touch. Fingers tracing up your waist. Letting your tits fill his palm, as you work him free.

“This okay?” Logan rasps, eyes half-lidded, “Pretty fuckin’ filthy, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to hold back a moan of assent, when his lips presses against your neck. Open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, the scrape of teeth pressing into your jugular.

“Good,” He growls against your skin, “Would’ve bent you over that fucking bar if you’d let me.”

It’s possessive. It makes you shiver - a sweep of his tongue, the suck of lips as he marks you. The sharp sting of his bite fading into sweet bliss. 

“Need you.” Your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking. The lightest of tugs to bring him closer, your thighs inching further apart.

He groans, “You have me.”

The pretty dress you wear is pushed up to your waist. His palm cupping you, feeling your warmth before he’s tugging the fabric of your panties to the side. 

Need rushes through you. A heave of your chest against his as your mouth meets his, greedy. A tilt of your hips, a leg lifting to hitch around his waist. Your hand curling around the edge of the counter, the other guiding the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“Hold on, honey.” Logan’s fingers slip against your pussy, nudging inside, “Gonna be sore.”

“I can take it,” You insist, pleading, “I can take you, wanna feel it.”

His eyes darken. A little inhale of breath, watching as your lips part as two fingers press deep. Your teeth already sink into your bottom lip, muffling a whine.

Slipping them free, after crooking inside you. Wrapping his hand around his cock, a rough stroke to smear your slick around him. Lining the tip up with your opening, as his hands fit against your waist. His hips pressed snugly against the chipped counter, as he begins to tug you to meet him. 

You can feel every inch, as he moves you. He splits you open, your shoulders arching against the dirty mirror as your nails bite into the laminate. A hand pressed against his chest, as you urge him to go slow. 

A held breath coming in a rush, as he slips deeper inside you with a grunt. Filling that ache you’ve been carrying - your eyes dropping down to watch the slick shine of his cock. Sinking into you with the slow saw of his hips, a clink of his belt with movement. 

“Just for me, yeah?” He rasps, a hand drifting down. Fingers splitting where he fills you, drawing slick tips up to circle your clit.

“Just you.” You nod, breathless. Rocking into his touch, taking more as you adjust to the weight of him inside you. 

His teeth flash white, in the dim room.

“That’s my girl.”

The moan you’ve been holding back slips from you, as you clench down hard around him.

He hums, “You like that?”

“Yes.” You whine. Reaching for him, as he tugs you closer. The slow plunge of his hips turning into a shallow grind.

Fingers circling and pressing, in rhythm with the heady drag of his cock against your walls. Your fingers grasping onto his arms, his shoulders - the kiss is messy when he meets the tilt of your head. 

Leaning into you as his tongue licks into the cup of your mouth, your tits pressed up against his chest. A broad hand slipping from your waist, curving against the swell of your ass and squeezing.

“That’s it,” He rumbles against your mouth - eyes half-lidded. A groan when you nip his lower lip - grinning at the way you gasp, when his hips surge forward, “Atta girl, taking me so well.”

Each swipe against your clit feels like a countdown - hips angling until he finds that spot inside you that makes your teeth click together. That slickens him up even further, until he’s pounding into your wet, tight heat. 

Your fingers pinch down. Breath going short, until you’re panting. Unable to do more than buck into his touch, as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you.

“Couldn’t even wait to get home,” Logan growls, “Needed this cock so badly, didn’t you?”

“Needed you,” You whine, hips rocking to meet his. Eyes fluttering shut, as the winding pressure builds, “Fuck, needed you. Gonna make me-”

The words break on a bitten-back whimper. Your muscles go stiff, bracing yourself in his arms. 

“Want you to look at me, sweetheart.” He coos, with that steady roll of his hips. Nudging deep inside you each time, as his fingers circle against your clit, “Eyes on me when you come, alright?”

Your answer is a breathless nod, as you listen. 

You don’t think you could look away if you tried. Not with him right in front of you. So close you can see the pull of his brow in concentration, the pretty shade of his eyes. 

Fixed on you, as his lips part. The soft pant and grunt as desire throbs in your veins, your fingers curling into a fist in his flannel.

“Come for me, baby.” He urges, “Wanna feel you, let me fucking feel you come.”

It’s there, swirling inside you. Liquid heat between your thighs, yanking you to an invisible edge. Leaving you to dangle, breath held -

“Oh my god, Logan-“

You’re falling - clenching down hard around him. His name is a chanted prayer as he fucks you through it - a ragged, pleased sound rumbling in this throat as you pulse around his cock. The slap of his hips growing louder, more wet as your release coats his cock. His base and balls sticky, when they press flush to your cunt.

“That’s it,” He growls. Fingers leaving your clit, so he can grip your waist. Drive into you harder, chasing his own impending release.

“Come on, that’s my girl.”

It’s pulled from you, sweet and smooth.

“Yours.”

Logan’s moan is ragged, coming from low in his chest. His pace stutters - the steady thrust turning sloppy. A messy rut of his hips, grinding himself as deep as he can before he finds himself again. 

You forget the dingy bar. The flickering overhead lights. Filth and phone numbers scrawled on the walls. Everything narrows down to him.

How he holds you. Looks at you -  so much said in the way they soften. You don’t know how you ever could have doubted. 

Blinded with uncertainty. Fears from before, that will no longer have a hold on you. 

“Logan,” You sigh, your heel digging into the curve of his ass. Eyes still on his, as your plea slips from you, “Fuck. Don’t pull out.”

You want to feel him. The throb of his cock when he comes deep inside you. How he lingers, slick and dripping from you - now, and later, and tomorrow. 

A gritted-out groan, as the sharp tempo increases. Fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, and you’ll wear him there, too - fading marks against your hips. 

“Yeah?” Logan husks - that look back in his eyes. Pupils blown wide, as his lips part with a groan, “Gonna be my good girl, gonna fucking take it?”

“Mhm,” It pitches high, as you nod. 

“Fuck.”

It comes out choked, as he loses himself in you. One, two, three thrusts, and Logan is growling - hands slipping down to tug you flush against him, as he spills inside you with a muffled shout. 

Hips grinding himself deep into you, his words a rough rasp in your ear, “Take it. Just like that.”

He pulses inside you, filling you with each twitch of his cock. Marking you fully, as he tests his teeth against your shoulder. A moan, as your thighs hitch around his hips - nudging him deep, where you’re wet and warm and wrapped around him.

Leaving him to grind every last drop into you, slumping back when his grip finally loosens. Your limbs feel like liquid lead, head tipped back against the glass. A groan muffled against your neck, as your fingers slip beneath the tugged-open flannel.

Nails scratching along his back, the tight muscles beneath easing.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Logan hums when he finally leans back - and you already miss his hands on you, as they shift to brace against the counter.

It feels cruel that he teases you like this. When you swear you can still feel the throb of his cock inside you. When he’s still sheathed to the hilt.

You groan, “Don’t make fun of me, Logan.”

“‘m not sweetheart,” He huffs, eyes going soft.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

There’s something off about your apartment - he can sense it the moment they make it to the landing. 

This is exactly what he had been trying to tell you. The when, not if, something will go wrong. His senses flickering into overdrive, nostrils flaring. 

Catching the light that creeps from under the door, when he knows you clicked it off. His hand automatically leaves yours, reaching out to tuck you safely behind him.

“Logan?” There’s confusion in your voice, a hand at his shoulder.

He shushes you, his words a low growl.

“Someone’s in your apartment. Stay here, sweetheart.”

There’s the soft snick of his claws, your fingers untwisting from his shirt. A breath, and then his hand is closing around the knob - a sharp jerk of his fist as his shoulder slams into the wood.

Teeth bared, as he bursts into your apartment with a snarl. 

All that fury bleeds to relief, and then disappointment.

“How’d you get in here?” Logan grits, his claws sheathing. 

Your voice joins his, from where you had peeked around the doorframe, “You okay, Wade?”

Hazy, morose eyes peer back at him - a hand lifting to wiggle “baby knife” at him. A newly-opened bottle of your cooking sherry in the other - a plate balanced on his chest, filled with a half-eaten chicken breast and vegetables. Legs stretched out on your sofa, Dogpool curled between his ankles. 

“She didn’t show,” Wade mutters, with a miserable smile, “Didn’t want to be alone.”

Logan can’t help the soft flicker in his chest when you go to him. Sinking to your knees by the couch - moving the plate to the coffee table, lifting Dogpool into your arms. She licks your chin as Wade lets loose a long, drawn-out sigh - flipping to face the back of the couch. 

"What was the point of the first two movies?" The words are muffled into the fabric, "Why would Disney do something like this? We were picking out baby names for fuck’s sake-"

“I’m so sorry,” You soothe - a hand on his back, “What can I do to help? Can I get you anything?”

Wade’s head turns to the side, with a long sigh.

“Thor’s phone number.”

“How about I take this,” You tug at the bottle, until it loosens, “And I text Peter? We can have a movie night, okay?”

He turns further, until he’s facing you again, “Even that one you hate?”

"Don’t hate it." You sigh, “It’s just so sad. I don’t know why it’s your favorite.”

“It’s not my fault they made that tree star look so goddamn delicious.”

You’re beckoning Logan over, a gesture to take his place. You hand on his arm, beseeching - but you don’t have to beg this time. The snarling dog inside him calmed - the fury from the bar and from the hallway ebbing at your touch. He can still feel your lips against his, when his eyes close.

The uncomfortable itch of opening up oneself still lingers, but it’s soothed by the way you smile at him in thanks. By the words that he still clings to.  

Logan has to fold himself into the space, knees folding. Mary Puppins tucked in the crook of his elbow - his other hand patting against a curved-in shoulder. 

Sincerity, as he offers, "Tough luck, bub.”

“It’s her loss.” You call, thumbs tapping away a message. 

“Her loss.” Logan echos, “You’re… you’re a good man, Wade. It’ll work out.”

It comes out clumsy. It always does - he never had a silver tongue like the Professor did. His edges as sharp as his claws, never one to waste words if his fist could do the job. 

Wade flips back over. The hint of a smile, “That’s the second nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Before his eyes are flicking over to where you pace, voice lowering.

“And I gotta ask, did you maul Sugar? What is with that mark on her neck?”

Logan huffs, lips twitching.  

“We’re all set,” You smile, “Your Emotional Support Peter is on his way. He’s bringing Al and some ice cream.”

A glance his way, the question written so plainly in your eyes - the lift of your brow. “That okay?”

It’s not the way he imagined this night going.

Had thought he’d take you to bed when he got back. Take things slower, this time.

Using his touch and the greedy press of his mouth to make sure you understand that he heard every word you told him. That he meant each one he said back - make sure you never made the mistake of thinking he didn’t care for you again.

But when he looks at you - how you’re ready to sweep into the kitchen to make some popcorn, he thinks-

That he might just prefer this. Even as messy as it is. 

He smiles back. 

The couch is crammed with far too many people. Five squeezing into a space meant for three at best. You’ve been half perched on his lap all night, his arm slung over your shoulder - tempted to pull you the rest of the way.

A couple months ago, his skin would have crawled to be this close to others. Would have peeled himself away with a scathing word and a sharper bite.  

But something softened him, during his time in this world. Days, to weeks, to months. 

Couldn’t go back, he knows that now. All the wishing and TVA TemPads couldn’t undo what was done - he’s known that for a while. It would take a long time, but he could try to come to terms with what happened. Try to do better, moving forward.

Starting with himself. A scrap of paper - snatched from a bottom of a flier with a brightly-printed 12-step program, shoved deep into his leather jacket pocket. Relearning how to be patient with others, and even more so with himself. Trying to listen what you and Wade told him.

He’s done walking away from things. You make him believe that whenever, if ever, he manages to open that tightly-sealed lid… you’ll stay.

The thought is one that he'll cling to.

“Alright. Enough bullshit.”  

It’s announced, as the credits roll - breaking him out of his thoughts. A creak of the couch as Wade shifts - crammed between you and Al, his head twisting on her shoulder to peer over his way. 

“‘m being serious now.” He insists, though the words slur together - the bottle stolen back during the movie and drained, “I’m so happy my two besties are falling in love, even if I am a jealous little bitch.”

A gasp, as he remembers - a reaching over to pat Peter’s shoulder, “Not that I’m forgetting about you, sugar bear. You too, Blind Al. I’d be just as happy if you two were dating. It'd be like a less fucked-up Harold and Maude."

A derisive snort from Al. 

Peter smiles, “Just happy to be here, pal.”

“Anyways, life sucks balls. Big, fat, sloppy, wet, balls, but goddamn if seeing you two happy doesn’t fill me with hope.”

Logan can hear the hitch in your breath. The pressure of your fingers, entwined with his. Embarrassment flickering across your face, when you are unable to help glancing his way. 

Exasperation and something else mixing in when you meet his gaze. Something soft and tender and directed so solely at him, that for a moment - he forgets to breathe.

Falling in love, huh?

Yeah. He might just be. 

a/n: i adore frank castle, haha. i thought he would be a fun person to pull in for a jealous!logan scenario - and thank so from the bottom of my heart for all the love on sugar, sugar - I honestly had no idea so many of you would like it, and I can’t tell you how much it means to read your sweet asks and comments 💖 this is all I have planned for them right now, thank you for letting me share this series with you!!! (though I am definitely not done writing for logan!)

[grabby-smitten]

Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

[puck-luck]

change-up | luke hughes

warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382

“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light. 

You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.

You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.

Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means. 

Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile. 

Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.

Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.

As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night. 

He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.

You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.

One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.

When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door. 

The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face. 

Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you. 

Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head. 

Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head. 

His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright. 

His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own. 

“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug. 

“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”

“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”

Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.

“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands. 

Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas. 

“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”

You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards. 

Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”

You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.

He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen. 

After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.

You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches. 

“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?

Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.

You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.

“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.

“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky. 

A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”

“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.

“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”

He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”

Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss. 

He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.

It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.

He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.

You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain. 

It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.

The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit. 

“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”

“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would. 

You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity

Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north. 

He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.

“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time. 

Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips. 

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”

He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.

Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek. 

“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”

If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke. 

You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.

Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward. 

His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar. 

“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence. 

Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage. 

“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.

Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further. 

You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers. 

Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.

So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent. 

He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”

He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.

When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago. 

Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else. 

Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come. 

He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin. 

Luke is in a league all of his own.

“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”

“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”

Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.

“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”

“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”

It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.

His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.

“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.

“I’m here, baby, let go.”

He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear. 

It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving. 

Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back. 

His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth. 

Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips. 

The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time. 

“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”

“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat. 

“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.

“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”

The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.

[achilles-rage]

Protect You, Always

summary: you meet your boyfriend and the rest of the 118 at a bar after work. everything is going well until buck has to pry some creep off of you.

word count: 2.9k

request: anon- i wanna see sum protective buck kind of stuff, maybe the same as the twelfth chapter where’s buck is defending her, maybe with different plots

a/n: i am SO sorry this took so long anon!! i love protective buck, he makes me feral, so thank you for requesting!! enjoy!!<33

warnings: creepy man gets grabby, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You walk into the bar with a smile, eyes darting around the dimly lit building to try to spot your boyfriend in the crowd. He and his coworkers agreed to meet here after their shift, and he invited you along, knowing that his friends would love to see you, and vice versa. You begin to pull your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans, eyes still scanning the crowd as you get ready to text Buck. You finally spot him, though, and his face lights up when he makes eye contact with you. 

You weave your way through the crowd, slipping your phone back into your pocket as you go. You mumble quick apologies as you squeeze your way past people, silently wondering why the hell there’s so many people here tonight. Usually, this place is pretty lowkey, but tonight, you can feel something in the air that is making the people of LA even crazier than usual. Must be the full moon, which Buck has told you everything about. 

“Hi, baby.” Buck whispers in your ear as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle into his chest. No matter how many times he’s gone to work since you’ve started dating, you still feel an overwhelming sense of calm when you finally see him again; knowing that he’s made it home in one piece.

“Hi, my love.” you reply, angling your head up just slightly so he can hear you over the chatter and music of the bar.

“You want a drink?” Buck asks once he pulls away, moving his hand from your shoulder down to your hand. You nod, smiling as he gives your hand one firm squeeze. “The usual?” You nod again, and he gives you a wink, leaning down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead before he journeys across the bar to get you your drink of choice. 

You say hello to Hen, Bobby, and Eddie as Buck gets your drink, easily falling into conversation with them as they watch and laugh at Chim and Maddie playing pool very competitively. You laugh when you see Maddie sink yet another ball, and Chimney begins to complain very loudly that Maddie’s cheating as she does a little celebratory dance along to the music blaring from the speakers above.

Buck slows his pace as he walks back with your drink and a refill for himself, a smile growing on his face as he takes in the scene. You fit in so well with his family, and his heart swells at the sight of you, head tilted back as you laugh along with everyone else. 

He hands you your drink, and you mumble a quick thank you as you keep your eyes on what Chimney calls his “comeback shot.” He’s completely focused as he bends forward slightly, eyes trained on the planned path of the cue ball, and you all go quiet, you and Hen grabbing each other’s hands and holding them up near your chest as you watch. When he finally hits the ball, it goes a little crooked, making him miss the shot, and he groans loudly, throwing his hands up in the air as he turns away. You and Hen let out disappointed sounds as your hands fall back down to your sides, and you lean back into Buck, looking up at him with a lovestruck expression.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Buck whispers into your ear. His arm instinctively moves to wrap around your plush middle as he pulls you further back into him, and you hum softly in agreement, leaning your head back against his chest.

“How was your shift?” you ask, turning your head and tilting your chin up to face him. He shrugs, a smile forming on his face. “It was better than how the next shift is probably gonna go. Chim’s a sore loser, and he’s never gonna let me hear the end of ‘my sister cheating.’” he teases, his smile widening as he feels the vibrations of your laugh against his broad chest.

“Like you haven’t held anything against him like that.” you reply in the same tone, raising a brow. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks away.

“That’s not the point.” he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear before taking a sip of his beer. The smile he was fighting erupts on his face when he hears you laugh again, looking at you over the bottle and giving you a wink.

“So, what is the point?” you ask as you turn in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He shrugs, his hands moving to your hips, one squeezing your soft flesh while the other rests the side of his bottle on the fabric of your jeans.

“That you look gorgeous tonight.” he says in a suggestive tone, although it comes out as more of a question. You smile, averting your gaze as your cheeks heat up from the compliment. No matter how many times he compliments you, you can’t help but feel giddy.

“Nice deflection.” you tease, tilting your head to the side as you look back up into his eyes. You begin to gently sway side to side along to the music floating through the air around you, almost as if acting as a blanket to shield your moment from those around you.

He shrugs, a smirk forming on his face before he leans down to give you a sweet kiss, melting into your arms as he feels the tension from his shift slowly releasing from his body. He’s not sure how you do it, but he always feels like you’re able to lift the problems off his shoulders when he’s in your arms.

You’re ripped away from your moment when you hear Chimney calling your name desperately. You break apart from Buck’s embrace and turn to face Chimney with a smile, raising a brow.

“Come play with me. You’re the only other one that knows how it is to put up with a Buckley like I do.” You laugh, giving Maddie a knowing look as she hands you the cue stick with a roll of her eyes. She goes over and stands with Buck, and both of them look at you and Chimney beginning a new game with fond looks. 

Your game is far less competitive than the one before, as neither you nor Chimney feel the need to beat each other. Even so, you can hear Buck and Maddie arguing with each other after each turn, telling the other person that a good hit didn’t count, and a bad hit deserves a redo. You all know that their argument isn’t serious; they both have small smiles on their faces, but it’s still entertaining to watch. 

The game is at a standstill as Buck argues that you deserve a redo for missing the ball when you tried to shoot. You were laughing so hard at their antics that your hand slipped and made you just barely graze the cue ball, and while you were willing to give up your turn, as you were already losing by a long shot, Buck clearly has other plans.

“I’m gonna go get a refill. You want anything?” you ask Chimney, and he shakes his head. 

“I wouldn’t come back if I were you. We’ll be here all night.” he teases, and you laugh as you shrug at his words.

“They could be arguing about who gives a better performance during karaoke. Could be worse.” you tell him. He hums in agreement, shaking his head as he laughs at the memory of their very long argument about it. While Maddie is a far better singer than Buck, he argues that he makes up for it with his “moves and face.”

You make your way to the bar; the voices of your friends being drowned out as you get further away from them. By the time you’re at the bar, you’re listening to a woman begging her friend for her phone back so she can call her ex, which makes you laugh. You wait at the bar for the bartender to make his way to you, and as you stand there, you feel a presence appear beside you.

You turn your head slightly; just enough to see the man from the corner of your eye, but he takes this clear sign that you don’t want to talk as an invitation.

“Come here often?” he purrs, leaning against the bar on his elbow. You scoff, shaking your head as you let out a quiet laugh. You turn your head to face him, raising a brow.

“Did you really just try to use that line?” you ask in disbelief. He’s cute, you guess, but he’s nowhere as attractive as Buck. And either way, nothing he could say would make you actually want to leave with him.

Although your eyes show clear signs of disinterest, he sees the way you turn to face him, and he smirks. Clearly to him, you want him to keep talking. He had been watching you all night, and although he saw you with Buck, he still decides to take a chance now that you’re alone.

“Why, is it gonna work?” he asks suggestively, sliding impossibly closer to you. You can feel his cologne burning your nose, and it takes everything in you to scrunch your face up and tell him to fuck off. You don’t though, instead giving him the benefit of the doubt; that he hadn’t seen you with your boyfriend earlier.

“Absolutely not. Sorry.” you tell him with an apologetic, yet vaguely fake smile. He smirks, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You wanna get out of here?” This man clearly doesn’t know when to stop, you think. Did he seriously think you saying “absolutely not” was you begging him to take you back to his place?

“I’m good, actually.” you tell him, turning to try to get the bartender’s attention. You can feel unease creeping into your belly, and you can see the way his eyes travel down to your tits when your eyes move away from his frame. His smirk drops at your words, and he leans down so his face is right beside yours, the alcohol on his breath filling your nose and making your stomach churn.

“I think you’re lying. You just want me to keep trying.” he purrs, raising two fingers to the side of your jaw and tilting your head back to face him. You move your face out of his grasp, leaning back and off of the bar as you see that his nose is practically touching yours. You feel bile crawling up your throat as your eyes dart around the bar, trying desperately to meet one of your friends’ eyes, if not Buck’s. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re desperate for it.” he says in a slightly condescending tone. Your brows furrow at his words. What the hell is he talking about? He grabs your wide hips roughly when you don’t respond right away, his words shocking you to silence. He pulls you against him, pushing himself against you at the same time, and your hands immediately go to his chest to push him away. He’s not exactly a big guy, but he must clearly have muscles under his shirt, as he barely budges at your desperate attempt to create some space between you two.

“I have a boyfriend.” you tell him, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the loud voices around you. Your eyes keep searching around the bar to anyone that will look at you. Surely, someone will help you. But no one looks. Everyone is in their own little world as they continue to talk and sway to the music with the people they came with.

“Well, he shouldn’t have left you alone.” he whispers into your ear, leaning down to place a hot kiss against your neck. You flinch as his lips make contact with your skin, trying desperately to wiggle out of his grip as his lips burn your skin. You want to find Buck, you want to launch yourself into his arms and never let go, but first, you need to get away from this creep. 

“Hey! Get your hands off of her!” you suddenly hear over the music, and you sigh, head turning to see Buck stomping toward you. You barely even notice Bobby and Eddie a few steps behind him, immediately following him when they saw his body get tense and his fists clench at his sides.

You let out a sigh of relief as you feel the man ripped away from you, watching with wide eyes as Buck stares the man down and pushes his chest a few times.

“You confused about the word ‘no?’ Mean’s she doesn’t fucking want you.” he seethes. You gasp as Buck raises a fist, ready to punch the man, but Eddie and Bobby are rushing to him immediately and pulling him back. You almost laugh when you see the man use this chance as a time to scurry away, weaving himself through the crowd and toward the exit. 

You take a few steps toward Buck, then wrap your arms around his torso, sniffling softly as a few tears fall from your eyes. Now that the threat is gone, you can’t help the tears from falling. You can’t imagine what might’ve happened if Buck hadn’t seen you.

“Shh. I got you, baby.” he whispers into your ear, his body relaxing slightly as he wraps his arms around you. He rubs your back slowly, chin resting on the top of your head as you try to catch your breath through your tears. 

“Can we go home?” you ask him softly, looking up at him through your lashes. He nods immediately, one hand moving to your cheek to wipe your tears. “Of course, baby.” he replies in a similar tone. He leans down to kiss your forehead, then looks up at Bobby and Eddie, who nod before he has a chance to speak. He gives them a tight-lipped smile, then turns you both towards the exit. 

Once you’re out of the loud bar, he stops you, putting his hands on your arms and turning you to face him. He looks down at your sad, scared expression and your shaky hands and his heart breaks. He should’ve been there, he thinks.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a gentle tone. You nod slowly, letting in a shaky breath as you try to slow your racing heart. “I’m sorry, sweet girl. I should’ve-” You cut him off before he can say anything else, shaking your head.

“It’s not your fault. You were talking to Maddie, and I wanted to get another drink.” you tell him, sniffling softly between sentences. He sighs, bringing you in for another tight hug. You melt into his arms again, your body relaxing completely now that the sounds from the bar are no longer pounding against your skull and you’re back in the safety of Buck’s arms.

“But I could’ve-” he whispers, but you shake your head again, speaking before he can.

“No. Baby, it’s fine. You got there before anything could really happen. And you’re here now, so you can take me home.” you tell him, your last sentence almost coming out as a question. You tilt your head up to look at him, resting your chin on his chest, and he gives you a troubled smile as he nods. 

“Okay. Let’s get you home.” 

He leads you to his jeep with a hand firmly around your shoulders, almost as if shielding you from the world. If it were up to him, he would keep you within arm’s reach, or at least within eyesight from now on, but he knows that’s unrealistic. 

Once you’re in the jeep and safely buckled, he moves around to the driver's side and gets in. Once his seatbelt is buckled and the jeep is in drive he puts a hand on your thigh, his grip tight as he thinks about that man’s hands on you. While he knows Bobby and Eddie had good reason to pull him away before he could get a punch in, he wishes he could’ve fucking killed him for even thinking about doing that to a woman, let alone you. 

He helps you out of the car and up to his apartment when he’s parked in his parking spot, and then you both change into comfy clothes before you cuddle up on the couch. He puts on a movie, but his focus is on you, how your head is resting on his shoulder and your hand is tightly gripping the front of his hoodie. He kisses your temple, trying to read the expression on your face to make sure you’re really alright before he hesitantly moves his gaze to the tv. 

“Thank you.” you mumble, not even bothering to tear your gaze from the tv as you speak. He squeezes your shoulder, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby. I’ll protect my girl. Always.” he tells you earnestly, and he means it. If you were to be in any kind of danger, he knows he’d do just about anything to make sure he’s in between you and the thing threatening to cause you harm.

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[wreckofawriter]

Only If You Catch Me

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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now

word count: 4.4k

warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!

a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it

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♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.

“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 

You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 

The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 

“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 

“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 

Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”

“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.

“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.

“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”

Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.

Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”

You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”

Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 

“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 

“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 

Alicia snickered beside you.

Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.

“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.

Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.

You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 

“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.

“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 

You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 

“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 

Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 

“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 

Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”

“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 

“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 

Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.

“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 

You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 

Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 

Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 

You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”

“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”

You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”

Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.

You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 

You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 

Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”

He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”

You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 

“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 

George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.

“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 

“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”

Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 

Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 

Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 

“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”

“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 

“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 

“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 

Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 

Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.

“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 

Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 

Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 

“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.

The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.

That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 

By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 

“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 

He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 

You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 

“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 

You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 

“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 

You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 

As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  

George chuckled.

Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.

“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 

The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 

Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 

The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 

Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.

Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 

He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.

Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 

He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 

Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 

“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 

“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 

The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 

Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 

“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 

As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.

“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 

Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”

But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 

You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  

George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”

The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 

You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 

“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.

“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 

Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 

By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 

In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 

Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 

Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 

He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 

Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 

You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”

You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 

Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 

“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 

“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 

You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 

  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 

How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?

The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 

As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 

As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”

“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 

“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 

His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 

“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 

And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 

Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 

You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.

George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 

You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 

Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 

A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.

You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.

You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 

He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, “What?” 

“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 

It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 

He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 

“For what?” 

“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 

You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 

He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 

You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 

“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 

You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.

One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.

“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 

Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 

“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 

You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.

You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 

He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 

This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.

You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 

Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 

 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.

“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 

You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 

“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.

“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-dood13 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys @evyiione

m.list

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* How to train your pet Human (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)

CW: Mind break, training, human pet, pet/owner relationship, humiliation, dub-con, non-con, dead dove

Pt 2, pt 3

(Reader) sat quietly and fearfully in a small cage that didn't allow for any wiggle room, their legs falling asleep under them from being in the same position for so long. They didn't remember how they got here, in a cage surrounded by freaks in what seemed to be a street market, only remembering walking home from the convenience store a little past midnight and seeing a white, blinding light before passing out.

Aliens of all shapes stuck their disgusting faces towards the bars of (Reader's) cage, speaking in sounds that didn't sound like speech at all. (Reader) watched as sniffling cages near them were bought one by one, and feared for their future.

After nearly an entire day (Reader) felt their cage lift high above the ground without shaking, and witnessed a tall creature draped with beautiful deep blue robes raise the cage to get a better look at (Reader's) face without needing to bend down. And bending down to the tiny cage must have been impossible without dirtying it's knees, since it seemed over seven feet tall.

It's face face was smooth, with large, opal colored eyes eyes in a hard shelled face. There was no nose, or lips, on its black and purple iridescent face. It spoke in a human like voice, in an earth language (Reader) couldn't understand.

"What?" Their voice was dry from dehydration.

"I asked what language you speak."

The voice was higher than expected, and melodic, yet still masculine. He lowered the cage to his hip, but didn't set (Reader) down, exchanging chatter with the seller and handing over a bag full of, what (Reader) assumed to be, some type of currency.

(Reader) was carried back to what looked like to be a large ship, dying of anxiety over what was going to become of them. They passed through multiple corridors and gateways, before entering a room decorated with glass cases and blue drapery the same color as the alien's cloak. He placed the cage on the floor and unlatched it, stepping back to give (Reader) space.

They tried to stand, but their legs were dead from the hours they spent bent doubled over. They cried in pain as the feeling began to slowly tingle down their thighs to their feet.

"What is wrong, human?"

(Reader) wiped away the snot and tears rolling down their chin. "My-My legs are numb from sitting in the cage. It hurts."

The one who bought (Reader) reached under their arm pits, raising them up and sitting them on a very high desk. He reached with what looked like scaled hands and began to massage their legs. (Reader) whined in discomfort, both at the pain and the uncomfortable situation, fearful to push the much taller creature away. Now that they were out of the cage, the alien was much taller and imposing, visibly sleek bodied under the fabric, but not scrawny, (Reader) could feel his strength.

"What is your name, human?"

"...(Reader)."

"(Reader)." He practiced saying their name, still massaging their legs. "I am Kirtch."

(Reader) nervously fiddled with the bottom of their shirt. "Why am I here?"

Kirtch pried his eyes away from their legs, looking down into (Reader's) scared face. "This will be your new home."

"What?" (Reader's) heart dropped into their stomach.

"I promise your safety, (Reader). I will do my best to provide you with comfort." Kirtch picked (Reader) up again, but didn't set them down, carrying them around the room giving them a little tour. The room was actually three, entering from the main hall into a study first, with another door leading to a bedroom, a small restroom hidden within that.

"I didn't expect to be bringing you home, so I don't have any human furniture yet. Although I've never owned a human before there is no need for you to fret, I have done extensive research, and I am confident as a first time owner."

(Reader) only just began to fully realize what was happening to them. "I.. I want to go home." The back of their throat got tight, choking back a sob painfully. Their nose began to tingle and they knew they wouldn't be able to hold back their tears for long.

Kirtch rubbed their back in what was supposed to be a comforting manor, but his hands were harder than a humans, and it was rough against their skin. "You'll feel better once your adjustment period is over. I shall bring you something to eat. It won't be a cultural dish from your planet, but it will be made of human safe ingredients."

(Reader) stretched their legs while trying to smile through their tears. 'Like hell. I'd rather die.'

They watched as he left the room, wondering how far away the kitchen or dining area was from the room they were in. (Reader) waited for a few minutes after Kirtch left before shakily rushing towards the door. But the door had no handles or knobs, it was a flat wall with barley any indication that there was an opening at all. They touched all over the spot (Reader) had seen the tall man had placed his hand, but nothing happened.

"no no nO NO!" They slapped the "door" in frustration. Time for plan B. (Reader) pressed their back against the wall, as flat as they could muster, just trying to make sure they wouldn't be visible in Kirtch's peripherals. The fear was destroying the lining of (Reader's) stomach, gurgling uncomfortably.

A whirring noise activated as Kirtch entered the room, holding a tray in his hands. It was quick, but (Reader) snuck right behind Kirtch and out the room without him noticing, right before the automatic door slid shut. The walls of the hallway were very tall and slightly rounded, made out of a blue metal. (Reader) began running in the direction they remembered entering from. They knew the probability that they were still on land was slim, but dying was better than being kept a prisoner without any hope of returning home.

(Reader) made it down only one hallway before strong hands effortlessly lifted them under their armpits. They kicked while crying, not seemingly phasing Kirtch in the slightest. He brought them back to his room, and his lack of anger hurt (Reader's) pride; it was good that he wasn't furious, threatening to hurt them, but his calmness reinforced the futility of (Reader's) escape attempt.

"That was my fault. I read that humans were prone to escaping, especially in the adjustment period. I should have expected this." He sat down, a deep imitation of a sigh rumbling through his hard chest. Kirtch sat down in his large chair in front of his desk, and laid (Reader) across his knees as their face fell. "Knowing this is my fault brings me no joy for what I need to do, however the manual did say that humans will test authority and will continue to do so if not punished."

(Reader) protested while squirming, incapable of breaking free as Kirtch slid their pants down to their thighs, exposing their bare bottom. His shelled hand was cold against their skin. (Reader) clenched to prepare themselves for contact, but it was useless against the inhuman slap, his hard flesh resulting in a sharp pain like they had been struck with a paddle instead of a hand. They yelped, squeezing their thighs together as the tears began to form again.

Another slap connected with their ass painfully, stinging as their tender rear began to bruise.

"I'm so-sorry!" (Reader) blubbered, another whack rippling their buttocks aggressively.

"Humans may appear remorseful, however this is self defense tactic to cease the pain they are experiencing. Unless one establishes themselves as the dominant force, they will continue to act out."

"No! I really am sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!!" Their voice cracked as they screamed out the apology between sobs and slaps.

Kirtch smiled, rubbing the skin he had split open, stinging the fresh cuts. "I shall finish with your punishment for now. I do not wish to spoil you, but I would be lying if I didn't have a soft spot for you, my cute little pet. The next time this happens I will not be so gentle.."

(Reader) widened their eyes in horror. That was gentle?!

"Would you rather spend your first night in my bed, or shall I prepare a nest on the floor for you? I will buy a suitable human bed for you tomorrow, of course, but until then..?"

"The floor." (Reader) replied a little too quickly.

A "nest" of bedding was constructed, and (Reader) did find it quite comfortable, but refused to sleep, fearful that at any moment they would be in danger. They rested for what only felt like three or fours hours, max, before Kirtch rose from his bed and begun his day. His routine was uncannily similar to a human's, rising and dressing in his robe, stretching and leaving to five something to eat. It only enraged (Reader) further at their inhumane treatment.

"I am not a dog." They whispered to themselves, as though fearful they would forget.

The ship must have been still docked at the trader's colony, because throughout the day gifts for (Reader) were brought into Kirtch's room and office. With each piece of "human" furniture Kirtch would happily rub (Reader's) head, petting them like an animal and waiting for them to show some kind of sign that they enjoyed their new toys. But (Reader) showed no such sign, feeling humiliated as they were treated like a cat instead of an adult human. But they didn't snack away Kirtch's hand, or tell him off, scared of being punished again, so they simply sulked, trying to hide from his gaze so they could disassociate without interruption.

His new pet's attitude was making Kirtch worried. He flipped through the human owning handbook, wondering what he could be doing wrong. They seemed so stressed, and Kirtch felt it was far worse than the normal stress of a new environment. Then Kirtch flipped to an interesting chapter on chemical responses. "If your human has pent up frustrations or stress, a fun way to help them relieve themselves is the manual release of the chemical oxytocin..."

(Reader) hid under a box, hating the irony of their hiding place while they tried to formulate a new escape plan, now knowing that they were in fact still connected to some type of land. Not every alien could be a cruel monster, there had to be some kind of interplanetary animal rights group or space hippies. The box was lifted and removed from (Reader) sat to the side as Kirtch smiled down on them.

"I'm sorry I haven't been playing with you, pet. I've been so busy trying to make this room more comfortable for you that I have been unintentionally neglecting you." He scooped (Reader) up into his arms, and brought them over to his desk, which he had already cleared off. (Reader) nervously glanced around, wondering what was going to happen to them. "But I wanted to help you become acclimated to your new home. And you still feel more comfortable the sooner we ease your stress." He pulled out a box and a couple of strange bottles with syringes.

(Reader) scrambled to get away, but was quickly held down by one hand, being shushed in what was supposed to be a calming manner. One of the strange bottles filled the syringe, making (Reader) thrash harder. Kirtch pulled down their pants, revealing their still sore ass cheeks, and stuck in the needle, injecting them with the unknown liquid. (Reader) cried out as a warm sensation rippled through their body, turning their limbs to jello and making it difficult to breathe.

Kirtch released them, seeing that they could no longer run from him. (Reader) growled, pissed off that their body wouldn't act as they wanted it to. "What did you do to me?!" Their body was rapidly heating, becoming to feverish to hold up.

"If your human has pent up frustrations or stress, a fun way to help them relieve themselves is the manual release of the chemical oxytocin..." Kirtch opened the box next, revealing a strange rubber looking object shaped like a cup on the outside with polyps inside. "I have always wanted a pet human, (Reader), so I was very excited to see you for sale. You are the most attractive like human I've ever seen, and I promise to give you a long, happy life."

The device was placed on (Reader's) crotch, attaching itself to their pubic area without needing to be held on. It came to life, each nub moving on it's own as it rubbed (Reader's) growing erection. The contraption grew against (Reader's) body, enlarging to fill every hole and crevice, pulsating and writhing like a living creature.

"No! It feels gross! Take it off!" (Reader) screamed in fear, watching as their hips bucked against their will and their nipples hardened through their shirt. Tears over how unfair everything was pricked at their eyes. Kirtch lifted (Reader) into the sitting position, rubbing their back soothingly while giving them a better view of the throbbing toy violating them.

"Shh. There's a good pet.." His words felt like taunts to (Reader) as they kept approaching their orgasm.

(Reader's) body was shaking as it begged for release, but (Reader) held strong, trying to rob Kirtch of the satisfaction of seeing them crumble. Another bottle was opened, this one however was poured down (Reader's) throat before they had a chance to cognitively force themselves to close their mouth. The warm liquid was tasteless and odorless, but the effect was like an immediate five shots of vodka, clearing (Reader's) sinuses and plunging them into a drunken stupor.

"What..? What..?" (Reader) couldn't even form their sentence correctly. Their unfocused eyes drifted around confusedly before snapping down to their lower regions, feeling their stomach muscles clench in anticipation.

Kirtch continued to rub their head and chest, gently rubbing their head like a good puppy while he rolled their nipple between his harsh fingers. "Whose my good little pet?"

"Ahh! No.. I'm not a pet.." (Reader's) whimpering voice mewled pathetically, their quivering lips complimenting their sweaty visage. The tingling feeling that had been building was ready to overflow.

"Don't you want to cum, little pet? It's okay. I'll make sure to always keep you happy like this, all you have to do is ask nicely." Kirtch leaned in, amused by his human's drenched thighs soaking his desk, shaking from being denied their orgasm. Behind (Reader's) back, Kirtch held a remote. They would not achieve relief until they played the part of a good little pet.

Drool dripped down (Reader's) chin, unnoticed by their hazy mind. "I-I want to cum."

"What was that?"

"Please let me cum?" They moaned, trying to press themselves deeper into the toy.

A button was pressed outside of (Reader's) peripherals.

Their body rocked violently as (Reader) was finally allowed to achieve their climax. Kirtch continued to stroke their head affectionately, whispering words of praise to his little human as liquid dripped from between the toy and their wet holes.

Kirtch kissed the top of their damp head, still smiling over how adorable (Reader) was. Although he hoped his pet would come to love him and enjoy his company on their own, he was secretly excited to use this toy on his little pet again. He peeled the appliance off, causing (Reader) to twitch sensitively in Kirtch's arms. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed, but Kirtch found that it wasn't a bad look on (Reader).

"Why don't you lay down for a nap, little pet. We'll play some more when you wake up."

[dollfacefantasy]

WHICH ONE TO CHOOSE?

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader x chris redfield x carlos oliveira

summary: at a halloween party, you and your boyfriend play out a little fantasy with chris and carlos.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, anal, blowjobs, face fucking, foursome, cnc, praise/degradation, intoxication/alcohol, pre-planned roleplay scenario

wc: 4.2k

a/n: it's a little messy but i hope you guys like this one. it's set in an au where re characters are allowed to experience happiness <3 anyways comments, reblogs, and asks are always appreciated.

kinktober slot: day 26 - cnc

Holding Leon's hand tight in your own, you drag him along the cement pathway leading to Rebecca and Billy's front door. Their yard is decked out like it is every year you've been to one of these things. Cobwebs sprawl across the arch ways while purple and orange lights glow in each window. Skeletons hang by the doorway and loud music thumps from inside.

Pushing open the mahogany surface, you stretch your free arm above your head and announce your presence.

Rebecca who's standing near the entryway hears the call of your voice and turns to greet you. A smile spreads across her lips as she takes in you and Leon together.

"There you two are. I was starting to wonder if you couldn't make it this year," she says.

"Pfft. Please, the year we miss one of your parties is the year Leon's horrible driving has taken us out on the way here," you joke, earning chuckles from her and Billy who's come up from behind her.

Leon, in contrast to them, shakes his head before wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him. 

"Don't encourage her," he tells them with a suppressed smile.

Rebecca playfully rolls her eyes and waves him off. The song switches in the background, going from something low and quick to the slower melody of Eyes Without a Face.

"Really though, it's great to see you both. You guys look great," she praises.

"Thank you," you beam at the compliment, smoothing out the blood-spattered, white dress that covered your figure. Glancing up at Leon, you pull his Jason mask down over his features so that the looks are complete. 

"You and Billy look super cute too," you continue as your eyes scan over their simple matching doctor and nurse outfits, Rebecca being the one in the doctor's white coat and the tall man behind her in the little hat with the red cross on it.

She thanks you in return, and the two of you chatter on while you migrate into the living room to join the rest of the party. The usual crowd spans across the main part of the house, from the couches near the fireplace to the bar set up in the kitchen. While you yourself are not a government employee, you'd become friends with almost everyone here who is over the course of your relationship with Leon.

You prance over to Claire and Jill sitting on the sofa first, giving the younger woman a big hug over her shoulders from behind before reaching for Jill and bringing her in too. Claire returns the embrace by covering your forearm with her palm while Jill pats your bicep in acknowledgement.

You take in their costumes too. Claire has ditched her red jacket for the night and instead dons a black sweater with bat wings attached to the back. Jill, on the other hand, looks like she just got off of work, but you suppose soldier could technically be a costume.

"How are you guys? Oh my gosh, Jill it's been so long since I last saw you," you gush.

They give the usual small talk responses, checking in on you as well. Their eyes flit to Leon a few feet behind you with brief waves.

"Have you been keeping him in line?" Claire teases with a smile.

You nod proudly and lean back, wrapping your hands around his arm. "You know it," you chirp.

The small group of you banter back and forth for a while, catching up, talking about plans for the future. Even though these are Leon's friends, you're often much more talkative with them than he is. It's an arrangement that works for you both. You never mind taking the weight of socialization off his shoulders.

After the conversation with Claire and Jill runs its course, the two of you head to the bar. Your hips sway to the pulsing of the music playing while Leon rests a hand on the curve of your side. You and him traverse through the gathering of less familiar faces, friends of friends or newbies you hadn't acquainted yourself with yet. When you reach a clear area on-looking the kitchen, you immediately spot Chris leaning against the wall with a drink in hand. A generic wolf mask sits next to him on the counter, the costume he'd already abandoned.

You dart over to him with a smile on your face, ready to hug him as soon as you're close enough. He startles a little from the sudden contact against his chest, but once he sees it's you, your happiness infects him and softens the look in his eyes. His large palm lands on your back, giving you a few small pats.

"Hey you," he says.

"Hey yourself," you respond and pull back.

He nods at Leon and looks between the two of you.

"Cute costume. You supposed to be Leon's helpless victim?" he teases.

"Mhm," you hum with a nod.

You're about to say something else, but the man in the kitchen who'd been making a drink with his back towards you turns around.

"Carlos?" you say when you catch sight of his face, your smile morphing into a grin.

He wears a similar expression and rounds the counter to be closer. You spring against him with more enthusiasm than you had for Chris, and he returns the sentiment with a crushing grip.

"Oh my god, I didn't know you were gonna be here!" you say.

You hadn't seen Carlos in a while, longer than you hadn't seen Jill. He only came to these things when he was in the area, which wasn't all too often these days. Leon wasn't the closest with him either, but you always thought he was so fun. He was outgoing and funny, charismatic with the perfect level of charm. Plus, it didn't hurt that he looked like a god. To put it in simple terms, you had a little crush on him. Nothing too serious but definitely enough to trigger involuntary butterflies in your stomach when you saw him.

"I think Leon wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a little smirk.

You glance at your boyfriend. He nods at you with a knowing look, still watching you in the other man's arms.

Even without words you know what it means. While your touchy behavior would have been an absolute no with any of your past partners, Leon didn't share that same possessive outlook on the matter. He enjoyed watching you be all over others only to be the one that got to take you home. He liked when his friends like Chris or Carlos lusted over you, trying to cop a feel during a hug or speaking as if you're available for the taking. It just prodded at some primal part of his brain that he didn't have control over. None of it ever upsets him. He doesn't get jealous, he gets horny.

That aspect of his personality was why Carlos's appearance was a surprise for you. Tonight after the party, you and your boyfriend had already made plans with Chris, but obviously now, Carlos was going to be involved too, and that was more than ok with you.

You press your cheek to his chest and tighten your arms that are already wrapped around him.

"You look so good. You totally need to visit more often," you say to the bulky man against you.

He chuckles, giving you another small squeeze in return. "For you, I would," he teases, his hand grazing over your ass as he lets you go.

A giggle trickles from your lips, and you follow him back around the counter to the main part of the kitchen. From here, you get a good look at his body. He's muscular as ever, his tight white shirt only accentuating that mass. In your excitement, you hadn't noticed his costume which was similar to yours. White fabric with red dye flicked across it. Only he had some face make up too. You guessed a zombie or something in that vein.

He catches your stare. "You really missed me, huh?" he asks teasingly.

"Of course I did," you say, "Now are you gonna pour me a drink, or do I have to do it myself?"

He laughs and grabs a few nearby bottles, pouring a mix into a black cup for you. Passing it into your hands, he watches you take the first drink.

Things would only get better from there.

Over the next few hours, you get yourself buzzed. You gulp down each drink you're handed with joy. The smile gracing your features grows hazy, your eyes become cloudy and your voice gets extra giggly.

Suddenly, you're super touchy. Your hand lands on the forearm of whoever you're speaking too. Sometimes it trails up a bit, teasing the bicep of the person. You bite your lip more and nod emphatically at points that probably don't deserve it. Leon keeps an eye on you, but so do Carlos and Chris.

After a while, you migrate over to the open area closer to the speakers. You dance to the blaring music, your body bobbing around to the pulsating beats. Even though Leon had never been one for dancing, he holds your hips and grinds up against you from behind. You feel his breaths on your neck and the tip of his nose brushing your jawline.

The song switches over to something with more guitar rather than synth, and a firm set of fingers wraps around your wrist. The mysterious force tugs you to them, but becomes a lot less confusing when you look up and see Carlos smiling down at you.

"Mind if I cut in for a second, Kennedy?" he asks.

Like he's supposed to, Leon stares him down before tersely shaking his head. This was all part of the game of course. Everyone had to play their part to earn the high score with you.

You giggle and lean into him, your head resting against the plush muscles in his chest. He starts swaying the two of you to the music. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Leon move to the wall where Chris is standing. Carlos keeps you focused though, grabbing your chin and turning you back towards him.

He guides your movements. His hips roll against yours in deep motions. One of his muscular arms is wrapped around your back while the other sits in the position to hold your ass. Both feel so good, like live wires resting against your skin.

You dance with him. Your arms rise up and drape around his neck. You follow his movements, letting him take you through the sequence with ease. it makes your head spin. Not only the thrill of being with someone else, but the feeling of your boyfriend watching on.

All the excitement swirling with the liquor leaves you feeling kind of dizzy as the song ends. You stumble back from Carlos. He reaches for you, trying to make sure you stay up right and don't go crashing down on your ass in front of everyone. That isn't part of the plan.

"'m fine," you say, "Just gotta go to the bathroom real quick."

Waltzing away, you snake around the furniture without any grace and make your way to the hall that leads to the rest of Billy and Rebecca's home. You find the door to the bathroom easily, but opening it doesn't come with the same lack of difficulty.

Before you can process what's happening, someone is right behind you. Your hand rests on the cool knob. A little shudder goes through you at the feeling of the weight against your back.

"Are you sure you're ok, princess? You look a little wobbly," rasps Carlos directly into your ear.

"I'm fine," you say again, this time with a little more whine in your voice.

"I don't know... you look like you're barely standing on your own," he murmurs in your ear, "I think your boyfriend would want me to look after you."

His hands slide around on your waist. They coast up over your ribs to cup your breasts through your dress. You pant at the touch, your skin breaking out into chills.

"No... I don't, 'm fine. I'll be right back..." you say. Your voice sounds airy and distant. The movement of your hands match as they fruitlessly try to push his hands down.

He chuckles, the deep timbre of his voice rumbling beside your head. Pulling you backwards, his back lands against the wall and your body presses into him. His arms close around you in a tighter circle.

"Cute girl like you... I just don't think you should be left alone," he teases.

You whimper and squirm your hips, pushing them back against his pelvis. He lets out a soft groan at the sensation and keeps you right there.

"Look at you, just asking for someone to take advantage," he whispers.

You're about to turn your head to look up at him, but before you can, a new set of fingers nudges your chin upward in their owner's direction. Chris stares into your eyes, smirking at how helpless you look.

"He's right, sweetheart," he chides, "You're lucky you have us watching out for you."

His voice is husky as he leans closer. You can feel his breath fanning over your face.

"The way you were prancing around out there, showing yourself off in your little dress... anyone could've followed you back here. And who could blame them? Who wouldn't want a taste?" he continues.

His fingers skim your thighs and ghost over the space below the white hem. They toy with the fabric, teasing the idea that they'll peel it upwards to reveal the lacy panties you wear underneath.

Another pathetic noise trickles from your lips because you want him to. God, you want him to. You'd let them both ravish you right there in the middle of the hall. One holding you in his strong arms while the other pumped his dick in and out of your slick cunt.

Carlos noses at your jaw. His lips graze over your pulse point while his hands grope your breasts with more intent. There would be no mistaking his touches as accidental now. He grabs at them through your dress, pinching at your hardening nipples over the barrier.

You rock your ass back against him again. "Guys... we can't..." you babble as heat floods your body.

"Why not, princess?" Chris asks. He presses his front against your thigh, letting you feel his swelling bulge.

Your legs squirm and drift together. You try to squeeze your thighs for some friction, but he knocks them back apart with one of his knees.

"Leon... I'm with Leon," you breathe, doe eyes looking up at him with all the desire in the world.

"Oh, Leon, huh?" Carlos croons, "Would Leon have a problem with the way you’re rubbing up on me? With the way your pussy is dripping for Chris."

You whine and bite your lip before speaking. "It's not," you whimper.

"It is, baby," he says. One of his hands starts to slither South. "You're telling me that if I slipped my fingers under your dress and into those pretty panties, that I wouldn't feel you completely soaked for us? Is that what you're saying?"

Before you can defend yourself further, someone clears their throat from the end of the hall.

All of your heads snap in that direction to find Leon standing there, stiff as a board. He has his arms crossed; though, almost immediately they shift to rest on his hips. He looks like a disapproving parent staring at the three of you with disapproval all over his features.

Still, his harsh expression doesn't conceal the outline of his stiff cock in his pants.

"I don't think that's appropriate, guys," he says, "Feeling up on my girlfriend while she's telling you she has me?"

"It's not like that, Leon. We're watching out for her. Making sure she doesn't get into trouble. We're doing you a favor," Carlos grins. His hands drop from your breasts to your waist, but he makes sure to give the area a squeeze to let you know he's not done.

"Mhm. You know how she gets when she's been drinking," Chris says to him.

"I mean look. She may be saying no, but her body was just about begging for us," Carlos adds.

Your boyfriend hums in acknowledgement and watches with the same unyielding eyes. "Still don't think this is the place to deal with it," he says.

They both huff out laughs. "Probably not," Chris agrees.

"Some privacy would be best," Carlos continues.

You stand there, trying not to squirm as they talk like you're not even there. None of them look at you nor directly address you. The conversation is between them, deciding your fate. You just wait to be handed your sentence.

"Maybe we should head back to our place. Make sure the booze didn't get to her too much," Leon proposes, as if it was entirely his idea he thought of in the moment.

"Sounds good to me," Carlos says, patting your hip before boosting you forward.

"Same here," Chris grins.

You stumble over to your boyfriend who takes you under his arm. He looks down at you as if he's disappointed, though you can see the desire in his eyes. The two of you snake back through the hall and toward the front door.

"Were they bothering you, sweetheart?" he asks like he's truly concerned.

"Mhm," you hum and nod against his chest.

Your pair keeps walking, waving at Rebecca and Billy and giving them brief thank you's before walking back outside into the brisk October air.

Like you planned Chris and Carlos wait a little before following your path. None of you wanted to make it too obvious what you had planned for the rest of the night.

Each of you makes it back to your and Leon's house in record time it seems. He drives you and himself while the other two trail on their own. They enter through your front door only a few minutes after you and your boyfriend settle on the couch.

After that feels like a blur. There's hands all over you. They pass you around from one lap to the other. Your clothes fall to the floor piece by piece until you're left bare. They talk but rarely to you.  The voices and touches all swirl together in one big mess until the three of you land in a collective position.

Leon looms above you, his piercing eyes locked onto your face. His hips roll against your center. He pumps his cock deep between your soaked velvety walls with each precise thrust. His hands cradle the back of your thighs, keeping them spread apart so that you can't shut him out. He grins down at you.

"You might think it's too much, baby, but she clearly doesn't," he teases, "So, so wet."

"I'm not even in your pussy, and I can feel that. Such a messy girl," the voice behind you says.

Chris sits below you. His warm bulky thighs support the parts of you Leon's hands can't. Your back rests against his chest while his strong hands play with your nipples. His dick is buried snug inside your ass. He's not moving, thank god. The stretch is enough to nearly reduce you to tears.

"She's messy up top too," the man above you adds with a grin, his thumb swiping away some spit that had dribbled from the corner of your mouth.

Carlos had your head between his palms. He kept a firm grip on you as leverage to rock his hips, sliding his length into the plush wetness of your throat. Deep groans and sighs leak from his mouth as his head falls back.

You whine around the girth of his shaft, but you can't squirm. There's so much going on. Even though you're in a relatively simple position, it feels as though you're tangled up with the three men surrounding you.

"No backing out now, baby. This is what you wanted," Leon taunts as he thrusts.

"Such a little slut. Your boyfriend isn't enough for you, huh?" Chris teases, nipping at the shell of your ear.

You whine louder around Carlos as he fucks your face, but he takes no mercy. He doesn't slide out to let you defend yourself. He slides as deep as he can, nestling your nose against the thick dark hair that curls above the base of his cock.

"Sounds like a yeah to me," he chuckles.

A soft gagging noise echoes from your throat and your eyes water. He holds his position for a few seconds longer before pulling back to give you a few moments to breathe. You gasp in a few breaths. Your head spins with the return of sufficient oxygen. But you still feel hazy from the two cocks inside you, one unmoving and keeping you constantly full, the other rocking back and forth, striking every little spot inside you.

"Leon," you cry. Your head falls back on Chris's shoulder, "Too much."

He smirks at your repeated protest and keeps going. "Nope. You can handle it, babydoll. You wanted to play with other guys, so I'm letting you."

Chris's fingers rub at your clit, causing you to tighten up around Leon. He hisses from above, but it only makes him move faster. The harder thrusts rock you on Chris's length. He grunts from the added stimulation and keeps the rough pads of his digits twirling around your sensitive little nub.

"That's right, sweetheart. Just relax and take it," he mutters in your ear.

Carlos strokes your cheek while jerking his cock right in front of your face. You watch as precum pearls at the tip, dripping from the slit in sticky beads.

"Fuck... you're pretty, so fucking cute," he mumbles from above you.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The urge to squirm becomes more pronounced. Your clit throbs under Chris's tender fingers while your walls clamp down on your boyfriend.

"Wanna cum," you whimper desperately.

"What happened to too much? Thought you said no more?" Carlos mocks.

"Don't care. Just wanna cum now," you cry. Your lip juts out into a quivering pout as you feel the pleasure growing more intense and spreading from between your legs all throughout your body. Tears dew at your waterline, making your lashes shimmer.

"Again? So greedy," Chris tuts from behind.

But in front, Leon nods with self-satisfaction all across his face. "You can cum, angel. Go ahead. Just know it won't be the last one."

You whine at the idea. You wanted release so bad, but you were already so overstimulated. It's not like you had any control over it though. You were climbing to the peak fast, and there was no way of going back down. Watching Carlos stroke himself to the sight of you getting your insides rearranged had your tummy fluttering with the urge to let go.

You try to hold it. Try to prolong it a bit more so that they're closer and cum with you. But at a certain point, you can't hold back anymore. Your back arches off of Chris's chest, and your whines fill the air. You shudder in his arms, quivering between him and Leon. Release crashes over you, wave after wave. It feels like the euphoria will never end when Leon finally groans and bursts inside you.

His cum floods your insides, filling you up just how you need it. He tilts his head back and sighs as the feeling seeps into him. As you're feeling the added effects from his high, Carlos reaches his. He moans nice and loud before painting your face with white streaks. The warm sticky liquid lands on you in patternless blotches.

You whimper but not in protest. It was what you wanted. The only thing that would make it better is Chris filling up your other hole too, but he stays hard and still, not giving in just yet.

Your boyfriend comes to a halt with his thrusts and slowly pulls out. Some of his cum leaks out as his length leaves your cunt. You whine at the empty feeling.

"Hush," he murmurs as he steps back. He catches his breath from a distance, but he knows none of you are done. Even with him and Carlos temporarily spent, they'd get it back up soon enough. "So needy. You still got one of us inside you, and you're complaining."

"Easy thing to do is to just give her what she wants again," Carlos says, "You and I could switch since Redfield seems comfortable."

Your boyfriend nods, looking between you and the other man.

"Sound good, baby?" he asks as if you actually get a say, "Carlos will put another load in your pussy, and I'll let you actually swallow mine this time around."

Even though your cunt aches with all the pleasure it's endured and your jaw feels sore from taking a dick in your mouth for the last however long... you nod. Despite what you said, you hadn't had enough. You really didn't know if you ever would.

[little-diable]

Afraid - Dean Winchester (smut)

Y'all asked for some jealous!posessive!Dean, so who am I to deny that wish? I came across a Dean edit paired with the song "Afraid" by The Neighbourhood, I guess that set the mood. Honestly, it's just pwp, but I ain't sorry. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean is tired of watching men trying to chat (y/n) up wherever the brothers take her. Dean is tired of faking his disinterest in the reader. Dean is tired of holding back.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking, oral (m), car sex, but some fluff and a love confession

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.2k words)

The sound of her boots meeting the ground was drowned out by the music echoing through the bar and the chatter filling the air. She was working on the adrenaline still thumping through her veins, riled up by the hunt Dean and her had just finished, wiping their weapons clean before they found their way to this very bar, ready for some distraction before they left this town in the morning. 

With a bright – yet awfully fake – smile glued to her lips, (y/n) made her way to the bartender, studying the man who was focused on the drinks he kept preparing. She was too concentrated on the game she was about to play with the guy, all too used to these moments, to notice the eyes of some other men on her frame, intently studying the woman’s body.

“Hi.” Her soft voice forced the bartender’s grey eyes to find hers, grinning at the smiling woman. He was handsome, with his bright, stormy eyes and the black hair he had gelled back, yet he was nowhere near as handsome as the green-eyed hunter she had been friends with for years by now. Dean fucking Winchester, the man who had an awfully confusing grasp on her body and soul, holding her heart in his hands, crushing it whenever he turned from her to find shelter in another woman’s bed. 

“Hi, darlin’. What can I get for you?” Before (y/n) could speak her and Dean’s order, an unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind her. 

“Give the lovely woman a few shots it’s on me.” Slowly (y/n) turned towards the man, eyes finding his greedy ones, trying to keep her disgust from finding its way to her features. A soft chuckle left her, hoping to distract the man for a few seconds, while she figured out a way out of this situation. 

“Mhm, thank you, that’s very sweet.” (Y/n) tried to turn away from him, though without any luck, stopped by the hand finding its way to her waist. 

“Not so fast, pretty. At least tell me your name.” A groan threatened to claw through (y/n), eyes fluttering in annoyance the man clearly mistook for shy flattery, making the smirk he wore on his thin lips grow. 

“It’s Mandy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my friend is waiting for me.” The man’s hand didn’t move, tightening its grip on her waist. With her lips forming a snarl, (y/n) was hellbent on fighting her way out of this, it wasn’t the first time a man tried to chat her up against her will, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, all too used to these uncomfortable situations. Though while her mind raced to find a snarky reply, she was gently though determinedly pulled away from the man.

“Hey, I was talking to her!” Her mind didn’t get the chance to concentrate on the man’s loud voice, distracted by the all-too-familiar scent forcing its way up her nose. For a second (y/n) allowed her eyes to flutter close, relaxing in Dean’s possessive grasp, concentrating on his scent, of the feeling of his muscles pressing against her frame, wordlessly telling her that he wouldn’t let her go. 

“Well, now she’s done talking to you. Let’s go, baby, I want to get out of here.” The man got no chance to protest, forced to watch Dean guide (y/n) through the crowd and out into the cold evening. She inhaled a few breaths, wrapping her arms around herself the second Dean let go of her, searching the distance between them.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but I would have managed just fine on my own, Dean.” He was walking a few steps ahead of her, coming to an abrupt stop the second she spoke the words. Dean turned towards her with dark eyes, features pulled into a hard frown, looking at (y/n) as if she was a supernatural being he was about to kill.

“I’m so fucking sick and tired of watching these men get their hands on you. Do you even know what seeing that does to me?” Dean’s voice carried an unfamiliar kind of anger, dripping with possessiveness, with jealousy. Her heart started racing in her chest, forcing heat to rise to her face, wondering where this was coming from. (Y/n) kept her gaze focused on Dean, eyebrows furrowed together as the seconds kept ticking by, trying to figure out what was going on inside his mind. “You know what, forget it.”

“Absolutely not. Talk to me, Dean, where is this coming from?” She reached for his hand before he could try to start walking once again, eyes drawn to hers like a moth drawn to any source of light. (Y/n) could tell that he was fighting an inner battle, tongue kissing his teeth, fingers forcing themselves closer to hers, interlacing them with his. 

“I,” a deep, almost defeated exhale left Dean, wondering how to put his thoughts into words. But the second the sound of somebody stepping out of the bar found its way to the two, it was as if he was lured out of his trance, letting go of (y/n). “I can’t do this, not here.”

Dean started walking towards Baby without looking back, growling something under his breath (y/n) couldn’t pick up. With determination guiding her, she jogged towards him, forcing him to a halt in front of Baby once again, murmuring his name. The last thing she heard before Dean turned towards her, reaching for (y/n) to press her against Baby, was an angry “Fuck it” leaving the tall man.

Her gasp was swallowed by his lips finding hers, kissing her hungrily as if they had been parted from one another for years, dreaming of their shared kisses, clinging to bits and pieces of their memories. Both moaned in unison, allowing their tongues to meet, turning the kiss even more heated. 

Slowly he parted from her, allowing the both of them to catch their breaths. His cold hands found their way to her warm cheeks, thumb stroking along her swollen lips as he pondered over his words. (Y/n) struggled to concentrate on anything but his touch, taken up by the feeling she had been desperate to feel for years, wondering if and how Dean would touch her. 

“You’re mine, you always have been, and you always will be. I won’t share you, just the thought of it makes me sick.” Dean’s growled words shot heat to her core, walls clenching around nothing. Wordlessly she pulled him down for another kiss, needing to feel him close once again, not fully trusting that this wasn’t just a trick of her imagination. Dean pressed her even further against Baby, keeping her trapped to make her feel every inch of his body, groaning the second his growing bulge came in contact with her desperate heat. “Do you feel what you do to me? I should fuck you right here, for them to see that you’re mine, mine only.”

A whimper left (y/n) at his words, drawing a dangerous chuckle from Dean as he let go of her, giving her just enough space to find her way to the passenger seat. Her eyes didn’t dare part from his features, trying to soak up every second. She couldn’t stop her grin from widening as her hands began to move, finding his thigh before Dean could catch up on what she was trying to do. He shot her a warning look, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, but her hands kept moving, finding their way to his crotch, feeling his hardening cock strain against the fabric of his washed-out jeans. 

“Sweetheart,” Dean choked on the word, struggling to keep his eyes focused on the road. (Y/n) didn’t speak up, she began to shift in her seat, leaning towards him to free his growing cock from the confines of his clothes. The groan that left Dean filled her with giddiness, spitting into her palms before she touched him for the first time, slowly stroking him. “Fuck, feels so good, been dreaming of this.”

Her soft chuckles forced a grin to widen on Dean’s lips, freezing the second he felt her warm breath clashing against his soft skin. Without another warning, she parted her lips, spitting onto his tip before she took him in her mouth. The groan that left Dean echoed through Baby, a sound that forced (y/n) to hum around him, making the sound vibrate on his skin. 

Even though Dean tried to concentrate on the dark road ahead, he felt his concentration slipping, parking Baby on the side of the road before (y/n) realised what he was doing. With one hand getting tangled in her hair, Dean roughly pulled her off his cock and back in for a teeth-clashing kiss. 

“Get in the backseat, I need to fuck you now.” The rough tone of Dean’s voice left (y/n) moaning, struggling to make her way to the backseat with her thoughts focused on the things Dean would do to her. He didn’t waste any time the second she found him hovering over her, hands pulling on her trousers and panties to expose her dripping cunt, groaning at the sight. 

His calloused fingers touched her expertly, circling her pulsing bundle with just enough pressure to push her into another dimension. Within seconds Dean had turned her into a blabbering mess, choking on her words as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. He didn’t hold back, kept her pinned to the leather seat with his free hand finding her throat. 

“You’re mine, your body belongs to me from now on.” For years she had imagined moments like this, wondering if she’d ever be fortunate enough to feel him this close, wondering how it must feel to have his hands on her. She could stay buried beneath him till the end of their time, allowing Dean to touch her as he pleased. 

“Dean,” she whispered his name, unable to use any more strength with his hand choking her just the way she liked. “Fuck me, please.”

Dean stared down at her for a few seconds, nodding his head as he pulled away, reaching for his wallet to pull out a condom. Within moments he placed himself on top of (y/n), aligning his tip with her cunt. With their eyes holding contact, he pushed into her, groaning at the feeling of her walls fluttering around him. 

Her lips parted at the feeling of Dean slowly pushing into her, allowing (y/n) to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. Dean stared down at her, eyes growing a few shades darker at the sight of her pleasure drunken features, finding excitement in her moans. Only as she nodded her head, teeth buried in her lower lip, did he start a faster rhythm, set on pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Dean, feels so good.” One of his hands found its way back to her throat, holding onto her as he fucked her faster, deeper, set on making her remember this very night till their last moment together. The Impala moved with his every thrust, keeping them protected from any dangers waiting out in the dark, allowing the two lovers to give in to their every emotion. 

“Been imagining this for years, but you feel even better than I thought, fuck, it’s like you were made for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, could only clench around him with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his neck. She held onto him as if he was about to disappear, about to leave her behind – even though she very well knew that Dean would never let go of her, forever holding her close.

The second Dean tightened his grip on her throat, she found herself looking up at him, allowing heat to rise in her system as she picked up on the love swimming in his pupils. Dean tilted his head down to press a kiss to her lips, momentarily distracting her from the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot, leaving her body tingling.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” The simple command rolled off Dean’s tongue, filling the Impala with another wave of heat to crawl up her body. With one arm slung around his neck, the other found its way down her frame, fingers rubbing her clit. Dean could swear that he was finally in heaven, that he had finally found his peace with her buried beneath him, finally his to love. 

(Y/n) could only whisper Dean’s name, eyes once again falling shut as she came. He fucked her through her high, staring down at her with his lips pulled into a smirk. It took Dean a few more moments before he gave in, letting a string of curses roll off his tongue. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” His words made tears well up in (y/n)’s eyes, pulling him down for one last kiss before she repeated the three loving words.

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!roommate!simon asks you to come with him on a night out. it is not quite the evening you were expecting.

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 5/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mentions of death, fem!receiving suggestive touching, oral(fem!receiving), simon is an ass man, simon "i wont say it out loud but thats my girl" riley

simon was standing outside of the diner. he was in his usual spot outside, leaning along the brick wall in the alleyway. you knew it was him by the small light that flickered every so often--simon was smoking his routine cigarette as he waited for you.

simon was true to his word. ever since you began working night shifts at the diner, you weren't allowed to walk home alone. it was non-negotiable, not to be discussed. someone would pick you up at the end of your shift, and if no one could make it, there was a car waiting outside, a driver poking his head out and asking for your name. and that driver would stand, shaking a little, nervous, as they walked you to your door and said, "was told if i didn't see you go inside and lock the door that...i-i wouldn't be driving with two hands anymore--"

simon did not cut corners. he did not say "tonight will be fine--she doesn't need me." simon did not get comfortable, and he did not let safety and routine ease his fears.

he had made that mistake once before, and he had nearly lost everything--nearly. he would never make that mistake again.

the bell chimed above the door as you came outside. simon tossed the cigarette onto the ground and stubbed it out with the steel toe of his boot just as you came near. you looked up at him as he came out of the shadows, smiling just a little.

"hi, simon."

"luv."

he wrapped a hand around the back of your head, bringing you close and kissing your forehead through the mask. you closed your eyes when he did this, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at the gesture.

"i need to ask you a favor," he said as you began to walk home. you put your arm through his, holding onto his bicep as you tried to skip the cracks in the pavement.

"sure, simon. what is it?"

"'m goin' out tonight. meeting with someone, at the pub. need you to come with me."

you looked up at him as he brought you to a stop before you were crossing the street. you frowned a little, laughing, confused.

"u-uh...sure...i'll come." you snuggled into his arm, resting your chin on his shoulder. "what's the occasion? need me on your arm so you can stay silent while i do all the talking?"

he grunted a bit, shaking his head.

"no. we're just going to a pub. in an hour."

"sheesh, not a lot of time for a girl to get presentable," you joked.

"you always look beautiful," simon murmured, putting the key in the front door and opening up the apartment. he put a hand on your back as he guided you in first. "that's a mad way of thinkin'."

you smiled to yourself as you went into your bedroom. you pretended not to notice the way his hand lingered on your back, or how it grazed the hem of your skirt.

when you came back out, it took every ounce of simon's self control not to groan out loud. you had his favorite jeans on. a light wash, ones that hugged your waist no nicely and accentuated the curves of your ass in a way that he couldn't see as well when you wore a skirt or a dress. and you were wearing heeled boots, ones that made you sit so good, made you a little taller, your walk just that much more sensual.

"im ready."

you shrugged on a leather jacket, and simon grabbed a black jacket of his own, fitting it on over his hoodie. the pub was only a walk away. it was somewhere you had been before; they had cheap pints and good greasy food, and the bartender called you doe--he liked your soft eyes.

you let go of simon's arm as he opened the door for you. the pub was warm, and the chatter was quiet and lively. the yellow of the lights and the smell of cigarettes and beer was so familiar and nice. you went for the bar, but simon put a hand around your waist, bringing your attention to the back of the room. your eyes fell on a man, someone with a beanie and an army green jacket hunched over a glass of single malt.

you let him redirect you, and when you finally went to sit at the table, a stern, weathered face with indiscernible blue eyes stared up at you. simon took a seat next to you, his hands folding on top of the desk.

"what...what is--"

"this is captain john price," simon interrupted you. "he's my commanding officer."

you straightened up in your seat suddenly. the captain had his eyes on you, looking you up and down--not in a rude or threatening way, more like he was just so curious. his gaze was gentle, and finally he held out his hand for you to shake. you clasped your hand in his, giving him a firm hold, and the man finally cracked a smile under his unusual mustache.

"nice to meet you," you said softly. "i...i-i'm sorry, i...i don't understand..."

"i need you to sign some papers," john said finally. "if that's alright with you, ma'am."

"ma'am? am i your mother?" you raised a brow, cracking a bit of a smile. "no need for the formalities. i'm under the impression you're the one getting simon home, so let's not beat around the bush, john."

at the use of his name and no other title, john smiled. he gave simon a look, something as if to say, i like this one. you tilted your head to the side.

"you want me to sign papers. let me see them."

john pulled a wad of papers from the inside of his jacket, sliding them over to you. you took them, unfolding them and skimming the words. there was only one set of words you needed to pay attention to before you folded the papers back up.

NEXT OF KIN

your head snapped to the side, looking at simon with an incredulous face. your lips parted, your bottom lip trembling.

"what the fuck is this? huh?"

simon clicked his teeth.

"please--"

you moved to leave, but simon had an iron grip on the back of your chair. you bared your teeth at him, hissing under your breath.

"i'm not signing shit, you asshole," you snapped. "what the fuck is this? if you wanna die out there, that's your fucking business, but don't put that shit on me, simon--"

"i need to know that if somethin' happens to me, that you're gonna be straight, so quit your whinin' and be fuckin' realistic," he said lowly. "if something happens to me right now, you don't get anything. and i can't go...i can't go out again without you signing those papers, do you understand me?"

"why do i have to do this?" you glared at him. you tried to be angry, but your eyes were glossy. you were terrified, and your heartbeat was pulsing in your ears. "why can't you just put my name somewhere and just--"

"we're not married," simon explained. "and if things go wrong...i want you to have everything. and i mean...everything."

you closed your eyes, sniffling as you tried to keep in the tears. you felt his hand touch your shoulder gently, soft circles to try and relax you.

"sign the papers," simon whispered. "just sign'em, and we can go home."

"no, i'll go home, and you can sit out in the fucking doghouse and think about how well it'll go if you ever ambush me like this again."

you flipped the papers back over, snatching the pen from john's outstretched hand and beginning to sign messily the highlighted lines on the papers. you finished, shoving the stack back across the table before kicking the chair out from behind you. it knocked simon's arm off roughly, but you just glared at him before making your way to the bar to sit. simon watched as the bartender poured you a generous drink.

"she's fuckin' pissed at you, and she sits at the bar instead of going home?"

"she's not allowed to go home without a ride," simon murmured. "a rule she knows well."

"sounds a bit--" john's voice cut short when he met simon's hard stare. john cleared his throat, tucking the papers back into his jacket. "'m gonna make sure these get filed."

"tonight," simon demanded.

"tonight," john echoed. "be all squared away."

simon folded his hands in front of him, swallowing hard as he looked at you at the bar. there were a few tears running down your face. simon hated seeing you cry; he hated even more that he was the cause of that pain, but in his eyes, this was a necessary evil.

"she's beautiful, simon."

"watch it, mate." there was no malice behind simon's response--it was more of an acknowledgement that yes indeed, she's beautiful. "this goes nowhere, cap'n. not johnny, not gaz, not laswell--"

"i know," john nodded. "i'll get it done."

john stood up to leave, and simon held onto his hand as they shook hands. he pulled him closer, staring right into his eyes.

"she gets...everything. every single bloody penny."

john nodded, letting go of him and finding his way out. simon turned his head back to the bar, watching you carefully. a man came up to you, presumably wanting to buy you a drink, but you spit something out at him which the man didn't like. simon leaned back in his chair, smirking under the mask when the man waddled outside with his hand holding his crotch and a hard, red face.

when simon closed the door behind you after stepping inside the apartment, you were quick to come closer to him. his hand twisted the locks, and then your arms were around his neck, hugging him close as you breathed in the scent of him. all of the sudden, you didn't hate the smell of cigarettes. burning cigarettes meant simon was breathing in, sucking in breath, alive.

"i'm sorry, luv," he murmured into your hair. "'m sorry i cornered you like that, but i needed to--"

"i just don't like thinking about it, simon--what the fuck would i do without you?"

"you've been without me before."

"not by choice, never by choice," you snapped. "you leave. and i just miss you." you push off the hood over his head, smoothing a hand down the back of his balaclava. "i know what you do is important. i know you're good at what you do. but while you're off saving the world..."

"don't do this to me," simon hissed. "don't play that fuckin' card."

"i can play that card all i like after tonight," you growled. "you wanna throw all that responsibility on me? the burden of carrying your cross if a bullet goes through your head? tough shit, simon! while you're off saving the world, i'm the one that gets left behind! i'm the one sitting at home, biting my nails until they bleed because i don't know if you're dead or alive!"

the room was quiet. so quiet, the creak of the floorboards sounding under you as simon gripped your hips tight. you beat a fist against his chest, letting more tears fall.

"it's not fair, simon," you whimpered. "all we've been through...everything that's happened..." you hiccuped gently. "it's not fair, you're so...you're so mean..."

"mean?" he looked hurt. a flash of it crossed his eyes, something sad.

"yes, you're mean," you whispered. "what you do to me is so mean..." you leaned in. "you touch me...you kiss me...you give me everything but then you expect me to just..." you sucked in a shaky breath. "...i don't know what i am to you, simon. i don't know what you want from me."

simon grunted at that. he was terrible with words. he didn't know how to express what he felt for you, how to tell you that you were it. that maybe instead of making you sign those papers, he should've gotten onto his knees and begged you to marry him. tied a thread around your ring finger and made price bear witness. but you were...this was already too far. living with you was too far, touching you was too far, tasting you was too far--he had enough self-control to leave before he went too far, but it killed him when he walked away from you.

so he got down on his knees. he turned you around, pushed on the small of your back until you were kneeling against the couch, ass up on your forearms as he found the button on your jeans and tugged them low. you didn't stop him, but you were still crying softly. simon wasted no time, getting behind you on his knees and tugging your panties down. he spread your ass with both hands after tugging his mask up, wasting no time as he leaned forward and buried his tongue between your folds.

"dunno what to call you," simon murmured. "no idea. all i know is that you're mine, luv--" you shoved your face into the cushions, whining as he slurped noisily, tracing letters into your cunt with his tongue and pressing kisses to the wet skin there. you were always so good for him--he never needed to get you ready, never needed to get you wet, you always seemed to know or maybe you were just that fucking needy for him that you were always this pretty between the legs when he was around. you were such a good girl--waiting, watching, smiling, she's so pretty, she's so beautiful, she's so good to me.

simon wasn't going to let a title take away the things you deserved if something happened to him. the comfort you needed, the security you were never promised, the love that simon always had but never voiced. you deserved it, and so help him, he would give it to you--he would take care of you even if he was six feet under, and there wasn't a move he didn't make that wasn't planned without you in mind.

how do i get back to her?

how i do i leave her without leaving?

how do i make sure she isn't lost even if she doesn't know where to go?

simon was the first man you ever loved. and he would be the last.

you were drooling. your eyes fluttering open and closed, your cheek squished against the cushions as simon ate your cunt from behind. it was filthy, deranged, sucking on your clit in the same place that you ate dinners and watched movies--now it was one of the places that simon ruined you again for any other man or woman or anyone who had their eye on you.

perfect, sweet little cunt--tight, tasted so good, something that could satiate the hunger on a man like him for days over. and simon was hungry. he had trauma; trauma that crawled into his dreams and turned them into nightmares, something that kept him from looking at women the way a man like him might, but he never felt that way with you. fuck, he was hard the minute he saw a sliver of your soft skin, had no problem gripping your plush ass in both hands and eating you furiously, not even a flicker of something angry in his head.

his brain turned off whenever he was with you. sex felt inevitable--hearing your cries wasn't something he wanted, it was something he needed. an angry need, one that had his tongue slipping up your folds and teasing your puckered hole before moving back down and curling inside your pretty cunt.

"c'mon, luv...c'mon, give it to me...give it to me, 'm not gonna ask again--"

you sobbed into the cushion as you came, rocking back against his mouth. you giggled with pleasure as you slid onto your stomach, simon's hands dragging your panties back up as he pressed soft kisses to the meat of your ass.

"'f someone comes around askin', sweetheart, you know what to tell'm."

you belong to a ghost. and that isn't a lie.

[natsaffection]

Walking through fire. | N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Firefighter!Reader

Warnings: Dealing with Break up

Word count: 5,7k

A/n: Hello! The request idea started because the person has been looking for a similar fic for a while. So if you know of one that is similar, please let me know! So please don't be surprised, I didn't copy it. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

You stepped out of the fire truck, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins, even as the cool evening air settled over the fire station. The last call had been intense. A warehouse fire that threatened to spread to nearby buildings. But, as always, your team had handled it professionally. A small smile tugged at your lips as you walked back to the station, the gear clinking softly with each step.

You were the only woman on your team, which had initially caused some concern among some of the older men when you joined. But you quickly proved yourself, not only as capable but as one of the best. Over time, you earned their respect, and in many ways, you became the heart of the team. They looked out for you just as you did for them, and their bond was strong, forged in the fires they fought together.

As you entered the locker room, you were greeted by the familiar banter of your colleagues, along with the smell of sweat and smoke. "Hey, are you coming?" called Jake, one of the older firefighters, as he peeled off his gear. "We’re heading to O’Malley’s tonight. Are you in?"

You hesitated for a moment. It had been a long shift, and all you wanted was to go home, shower, and spend some time with Natasha. But it had been a while since you’d gone out with the guys, and it would be good to relax with them. Besides, you could invite Natasha, it might be just what you both needed to reconnect.

"Sure!" you replied with a smile. "I’ll be there. I’ll see if Nat wants to come too." The guys exchanged knowing looks, and Jake gave you a thumbs-up. "Great! I haven’t seen her in a while. It’d be nice to catch up with her."

You nodded, but a small knot of worry twisted in your stomach. It was true..Natasha had been distant lately, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. But you pushed the thought aside, hoping that tonight would be a chance to bridge the growing gap between you.

The atmosphere at O’Malley’s was lively, the local bar filled with laughter and chatter from off-duty firefighters and locals. You arrived with your team, and the group immediately took their usual corner spot. You spotted Natasha near the bar, as stunning as ever, her sharp green eyes scanning the room. Your heart lifted at the sight of her, and you quickly made your way over to her.

"Hey, you made it." you said with a warm smile, leaning in to kiss Natasha on the cheek. Natasha smiled back, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Of course. You know I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you and your boys letting loose." You chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around Natasha’s waist and leading her back to the table. As you joined the group, the conversation flowed easily, with stories from the day and jokes making the rounds. But you couldn’t help but notice that Natasha was quieter than usual, her responses brief, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

It wasn’t long before Jake, ever observant, leaned over to you. "Hey, is everything okay between you two?" he asked quietly, his tone gentle but concerned. You sighed, glancing over at Natasha, who was now holding a drink and barely participating in the conversations. "I don’t know.. " you admitted softly. "She’s been..distant lately. I just can’t figure out why."

Jake nodded, his brow furrowed. "You know we all care about you, right? If something’s wrong, don’t just ignore it."

"I know." you replied with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks. I’ll talk to her." But as the evening wore on, your worries deepened. You watched as Natasha grew more withdrawn, her attention drifting further away from the group. Your heart sank as you saw Natasha get up and head to the bar to talk to another woman, a striking woman with a confident smile. A knot formed in your stomach as you watched the interaction from a distance.

Natasha laughed, leaning in closer to the woman, and you couldn’t miss the unmistakable signs of flirting. Your mind raced, trying to rationalize it, convincing yourself that you were overreacting. But the way Natasha touched the woman’s arm, the way she looked at her, was something you couldn’t ignore. Jake’s words echoed in your mind Don’t just ignore it.

Your hands clenched into fists, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and hurt. You couldn’t stay here any longer, couldn’t watch this unfold before your eyes. You stood up abruptly, the movement catching Natasha’s attention. Your eyes met across the room, and for a brief moment, you saw something in Natasha’s gaze, maybe guilt or simply the realization that she’d been caught.

You didn’t wait for Natasha to come to you. You turned and left the bar, the cool night air hitting you like a slap as you stepped outside. The anger that simmered within you was like a raging fire, threatening to consume you. You barely registered the short drive home, your mind a whirlwind of emotions.

Back in your apartment, you paced the living room, your thoughts racing. The minutes dragged on like hours until you finally heard the door behind you open and close. You turned to see Natasha standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable. "I-" Natasha began, but you cut her off.

"Don’t." you interrupted, your voice trembling with the effort to control the storm within you. "Just don’t! I saw you, Natasha. I saw how you were with her." Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It’s not what you think-"

"Then what is it?" you demanded, your voice rising. "Because from where I stood, it looked like you were flirting with someone else. And this isn’t the first time you’ve been like this, Nat. You’ve been cold, distant, like you don’t even want to be around me anymore.. And now… this?"

"I don’t know what you want me to say!" Natasha replied, her voice growing colder. "You’re always at work, always with your team. Maybe I needed someone to talk to, someone who’s actually there.." You stared at her, her words cutting deep. "Are you serious? I risk my life every day, and you think I’m neglecting you? You knew what my job was when we got together, Natasha. You knew how important it is to me."

"And what about us?" Natasha shot back, her voice rising as well. "What about our relationship? Or is that supposed to come second to everything else?" Your eyes flashed with anger. "I’ve tried, Nat! I’ve tried to be there for you, but you’re the one who pushed me away. You’re the one who shut me out!" Natasha took a step forward, her fists clenched. "Maybe I pushed you away because I felt like you weren’t really there anymore! Maybe I shut you out because I don’t know how to compete with your damn job!"

The room was filled with your heavy breathing, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. You felt your heart breaking with each passing moment, the reality of what Natasha was saying beginning to sink in. "I never asked you to compete with my job.." you said, your voice trembling. "I just wanted you to be there for me, like I was always there for you." Natasha’s expression softened for a moment, but then it hardened again, her walls going back up. "Maybe we’ve just grown too far apart, Y/n. Maybe this just doesn’t work anymore." You felt like the ground had been pulled out from under you. "Do you really mean that?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t know what else to say..I can't anymore.." Natasha replied, her tone flat. "I’m tired, Y/n. I’m tired of feeling like I’m always second place in your life." The finality in Natasha’s words hit you like a sledgehammer, and you knew deep down that this was the end. The fight drained out of you, leaving only a hollow emptiness that you couldn’t ignore. "Maybe you’re right." you said quietly, your voice breaking. "Maybe we’ve just grown too different."

Natasha looked at you for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes, before she finally turned and left, leaving you in the ruins of what had once been your shared life. The door closed with a final, echoing click, and you sank onto the couch, the weight of the night crashing over you. The tears you had been holding back finally broke free, and you cried until there was nothing left, the pain of losing Natasha burning brighter than any fire you had ever faced.

Weeks passed since that night, the night when everything had fallen apart. You had thrown yourself into your work, using the long hours and hard shifts to numb the pain that had settled in your chest. The fire station became more than just a workplace, it became your refuge, a place where you could lose yourself in the routine, the adrenaline, and the camaraderie of your team.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fully escape the pain that Natasha’s absence had left behind. The quiet moments when you were alone with your thoughts were the worst. Those were the times when the memories came back. Memories of Natasha’s smile, her laughter, the way she would snuggle up to you after a long day. All of it haunted you, lingering like smoke long after the fire had died.

Your teammates noticed the change in you almost immediately. They were used to you being the strong, confident woman who could take on any challenge, who always had a quick joke or a comforting word at the ready. But lately, you had become quieter, more withdrawn. The usual spark in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a pained expression that worried them more than you realized.

It didn’t take long for the whispers to start. The guys knew something was wrong, but out of respect, they didn’t push you to talk about it..at least not at first. But one day, after another exhausting shift, Jake, who always seemed to sense when something was off, finally confronted you in the locker room. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm as you laced up your boots. You looked up, exhaustion evident in every line of your face. "Sure, What’s up?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to begin, before finally coming out with it. "The guys and I..we’ve noticed you’ve changed lately. You’re quieter. We’re worried about you." Your first instinct was to brush it off, to tell him you were fine, but the concern in Jake’s eyes stopped you. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I..I’m okay, Jake. I’m just going through some stuff."

Jake nodded, as if he had expected that answer. "We heard that you and Natasha broke up." You flinched at the mention of her name, the wound still fresh despite the weeks that had passed. "Yeah.."

"I’m sorry," Jake said sincerely. "but you don’t have to go through this alone, you know? We’re here for you, you know that, right?" A lump formed in your throat, the kindness in Jake’s words breaking through the wall you had built around yourself. "Thanks, Jake. It’s just..it’s hard, you know? But I’ll get through it, I just need time."

Jake smiled, a small, sad smile. "We know you’re strong. But even the strongest people need their friends sometimes. Don’t shut us out, okay?" You nodded, your heart warming at his words. "Okay. I won’t."

As the days turned into weeks, you slowly began to lean more on your team, letting them in bit by bit. They were there for you in ways you hadn’t expected, they invited you out after shifts, brought you coffee when they saw you needed it, and most importantly, gave you the space you needed to heal without pushing you to talk about it before you were ready. You started to find yourself again, piece by piece. The pain of the breakup was still there, but it no longer dominated every thought. You found comfort in the work you loved and in the support of your team, who were more like brothers to you than anything else. They helped you remember who you were, a determined woman who had overcome so much in her life. This was just another challenge, another fire you had to walk through, and you knew you would come out stronger on the other side.

But there was another change in you. The breakup had forced you to take a hard look at your life, the choices you had made, and the priorities you had set. You realized that you had been using work as a way to escape from certain things like fears, insecurities, the pressure to always be the best. With the help of your teammates, you started to find a better balance. You cut back on your work hours, took time to rest, to connect with yourself, and to think about what you really wanted in life. It wasn’t easy, there were still days when the pain was too much, when the memories were too sharp but slowly, you began to feel more like yourself again.

One evening, after a particularly long but fulfilling day, you were sitting with your team at O’Malley’s, the same bar where everything had started to fall apart weeks ago. But this time, the atmosphere was different. You laughed at one of Jake’s jokes, the sound surprising even yourself. It felt good to laugh again, to feel like you were part of something again, instead of just going through the motions. As the night wore on, Jake leaned over and clinked his glass against yours. "Welcome back.." he said with a broad grin. You smiled back, this time a real smile, one that reached your eyes. And as you looked around, taking in the faces of the people who had stood by you through one of the hardest times of your life, you felt a deep gratitude and a sense of hope. You weren’t fully healed yet, you knew that would take time but you were on your way. You weren’t running from the pain anymore. You were facing it, with the support of those who cared about you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were finally coming back to yourself.

The months that had passed since the breakup had brought with them a sense of calm that you hadn’t expected. The wounds that had once been raw and painful had slowly closed, leaving only the faintest of scars behind. You had regained your footing, largely thanks to your work and the unwavering support of your team. The fire station had become your sanctuary, a place where you could focus on the work you loved and the people who mattered to you.

With time, the thoughts of Natasha became less painful and more reflective. You had accepted that your relationship was over, and although you still cared for Natasha, you had made peace with your past. You hadn’t dated anyone new, instead choosing to focus on yourself and your career. Occasionally, you wondered if Natasha had moved on, if she had found someone to fill the void you had left behind. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly pushed aside by the demands of your work.

One late afternoon, your team received an urgent call, a fire had broken out in a high-end residential complex in a busy part of town. Without hesitation, you geared up and raced to the scene, sirens blaring through the streets. When you arrived at the complex, your focus was solely on the task ahead.

The building was engulfed in flames, thick black smoke billowing from the windows of the upper floors. The fire was intense, but not unlike others you had faced before. Your team worked with practiced precision, setting up hoses and preparing to combat the blaze. You quickly joined them, your thoughts focused only on containing the fire and ensuring everyone’s safety. As you worked to bring the fire under control, you noticed a small commotion at the edge of the crowd that had gathered outside. A woman was arguing with one of the firefighters, her voice rising in desperation. You blinked through the smoke and your heart sank. It was Natasha.

Natasha stood at the edge of the barricade, her face pale and tense, her eyes fixed on the burning building. She was arguing with one of the firefighters, apparently determined to get inside. "I have to go in!" Natasha said, her voice thick with panic. "There are things in there that I can’t lose, please.."

"I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s too dangerous." the firefighter replied, his voice firm but sympathetic. "We can’t let anyone in until we’re sure the fire is completely out and the building is safe." Natasha looked like she was about to argue further, her frustration and fear palpable. You knew that look all too well..Natasha was stubborn, and when she set her mind to something, she didn’t let go easily. Taking a deep breath, knowing this wouldn’t be easy, you stepped forward and made your way over to them.

"Natasha." you called, drawing both Natasha’s and the firefighter’s attention to you. Natasha’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she looked like she might crumble. But she quickly composed herself, her expression shifting to one of determination. "Y-Y/n! I have to go in.. There are things..things I can’t lose."

You understood the urgency in Natasha’s voice, but you also knew the dangers that still lurked in the building. You turned to the firefighter, who was visibly struggling to keep Natasha from pushing past him. "It’s okay." you said, stepping forward. "I’ll go in with her. I know the risks, and I can make sure she stays safe." The firefighter hesitated, glancing between you and Natasha before finally nodding. "Alright, but be quick. The structure is still unstable, and we don’t know how long it will hold."

You nodded in understanding before turning to Natasha. "Come on." you said, your voice gentle but firm. "Let’s get what you need." Natasha nodded, her relief evident, though her tension remained, as she followed you toward the building. You moved quickly through the entrance, the smell of smoke and charred wood heavy in the air. The fire was mostly out, but the damage was extensive, and the walls still radiated heat.

You led the way, keeping an eye on Natasha as you navigated through the debris. "Where do we need to go?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder. "Upstairs.." Natasha replied, her voice tight. "My apartment is on the top floor." You moved carefully, avoiding the more unstable areas as you climbed the stairs to Natasha’s apartment. When you reached the door, it hung on its hinges, the hallway beyond filled with smoke and debris. You pushed the door open, and before you lay the charred remains of what had once been Natasha’s home.

Natasha stepped inside, her movements hesitant as she took in the destruction. You stayed close, your eyes scanning the room for potential hazards. The apartment was almost unrecognizable, blackened walls, burned furniture, and shattered glass littered the floor. But Natasha’s attention was focused on something deeper, something more personal. She moved to a small cabinet at the back of the room, kneeling down and carefully opening it. Inside were a few items that had somehow escaped the fire. An old jewelry box, a small stack of letters, and a photo album that was singed at the edges but otherwise intact.

Natasha carefully lifted the photo album, her hands trembling slightly as she opened it. The first picture showed you and her, taken on a lazy Sunday morning in your old apartment. You were sitting on the couch, your head resting on Natasha’s shoulder, both of you smiling at the camera. It was one of Natasha’s favorite photos, a moment of pure bliss, captured forever.

You held your breath as you saw the picture. "You kept this?" you asked softly, your voice filled with a mix of surprise and emotion. Natasha looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I couldn’t let it go.." she admitted, her voice breaking. "I tried to move on, but..this was the only thing that made me feel close to you. I never stopped missing you, Y/n. I just didn’t know how to handle it.."

The flames had died down, and the once-raging inferno that had consumed Natasha’s apartment was now reduced to smoldering embers. You stood with Natasha near the entrance of the building, the smell of smoke still heavy in the air. Natasha’s face was etched with worry, her eyes distant as she stared at the charred remains of her home. Back outside, Natasha turned to you, clutching the singed photo album to her chest. "Y/n.." she began, her voice shaky but determined, "I..I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for a second chance. I miss you. I miss us."

Your heart clenched at the plea in Natasha’s voice, but you knew you couldn’t just let yourself be swayed so easily. The pain, the anger, the heartbreak..it was all still there, simmering beneath the surface. You couldn’t just forget how it had ended, how Natasha had pushed you away. You took a deep breath, keeping your voice steady. "Natasha, I..I can’t do this right now. I’ve moved on, or at least I’m trying to. It’s not easy for me to just go back."

Natasha’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, her fingers tightening around the photo album. "I understand.." she whispered. "I know I hurt you, Y/n, and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But I just wanted…I wanted to try to make things right."

You looked away, your resolve wavering for a moment before you forced yourself to stay strong. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?" you asked, your tone softening slightly. Natasha hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I’m staying with Steve. I’ll be okay."

"Good.." you replied, your voice a bit softer now. "Take care of yourself, Natasha. I’m..I’m sorry this happened to you." Natasha offered you a sad smile, her eyes a mixture of hope and resignation. "Thank you.." You nodded, your heart heavy as you watched Natasha walk away, disappearing into the darkness. You wanted to reach out, to take away the pain you had seen in Natasha’s eyes, but you knew that would only reopen wounds that had just begun to heal.

Days passed, and you tried to put the encounter with Natasha behind you. You buried yourself in your work, focusing on your team and the job that had always been your anchor. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Natasha kept creeping into your mind. You wondered how she was doing, if she had found a new place to live, if she was okay. But every time the urge to reach out to Natasha became too strong, you forced yourself to remember the pain of your breakup. The loneliness and the feeling of being pushed aside. You weren’t ready to go through that again.

Meanwhile, Natasha wasn’t ready to give up so easily. She knew she had deeply hurt you, but she also knew that you were the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had to find a way to apologize, to show you that she was serious about making things right. But every time she tried to get close, you kept her at a distance, not ready to let her back into your life.

Desperate for a solution, Natasha turned to the one person she knew you trusted completely. Jake. He was your closest friend on the team, someone who had always been there for you through thick and thin. If anyone could help Natasha find a way to reach you, it was him. "Jake, I need your help." Natasha said one evening after tracking him down at the firehouse. She had waited until you were out on a call, not wanting to make the situation even more difficult for you.

Jake studied Natasha carefully, crossing his arms. "What’s this about, Romanoff?" Natasha hesitated, unsure how to explain. "I want to apologize to Y/n. I want to show her that I’m serious about making things right, but she’s not giving me a chance. And I get it, I really do! I hurt her, and I don’t blame her for keeping her distance. But I can’t just let her go without trying."

Jake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he considered her words. "Shes been through a lot." he said finally. "She’s tough, but she’s got a big heart, and what happened between you two…it really hit her hard. She’s just starting to get back to herself."

"I know.." Natasha replied, her voice heavy with emotion. "And that’s exactly why I’m asking for your help. I need to show her that I’ve changed, that I understand what I did wrong. I thought maybe..maybe you could help me find something that really matters.."

Jake studied her for a long moment, clearly weighing what he should do. He had seen how much the breakup had affected you, had been there to pick up the pieces. But he also knew that you still cared about Natasha, even if you wouldn’t admit it. "Alright.." Jake said finally. "But if we do this, it has to be something that really shows her you get it, that you understand what’s important to her. You can’t just say ‘I’m sorry’ you’ve got to prove that you get it." Natasha nodded, her heart lifting with a mix of hope and determination. "What do you suggest?"

Jake thought for a moment, then a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Y/n’s job and her team mean everything to her. She’s proud of the work we do, and she respects anyone who gets that. If you can show her that you appreciate her dedication, that you’re willing to support her even if it means making sacrifices, that might just reach her heart."

Natasha listened intently, and a plan began to take shape in her mind. "I think I know what I can do." she said slowly, her confidence growing. "But I’m going to need everyones help to pull it off." Jake chuckled softly, clapping Natasha on the shoulder. "Alright, Romanoff. Let’s get to it. But remember, in the end, it’s up to Y/n. If she decides she’s not ready, you’ve got to respect that."

"I will." Natasha promised, her eyes filled with determination. "But I have to try."

In the days that followed, Natasha and the Team worked together to bring the plan to life. It wasn’t easy, and there were moments when Natasha doubted herself, but she pushed through, knowing this was her last chance to make things right with you.

Finally, the day came. Jake had convinced you to come to the firehouse after your shift, under the pretense of a small team meeting. You arrived, your curiosity piqued by the unusual request. As you entered the common room, you were greeted by your teammates, all smiling, but there was also a hint of something else in their expressions..perhaps anticipation?

"Jake, what’s going on?" you asked, glancing around the room. Before he could respond, the door to the adjacent room opened, and Natasha stepped out, nervous but resolute. You held your breath as your eyes met, the air suddenly thick with tension. "Natasha.." you said slowly, your voice cautious. "What are you doing here?"

"I’m here to apologize." Natasha said, her voice firm despite the pounding of her heart. "But I’m not just here to say ‘sorry.’ I wanted to show you that I understand..really understand what’s important to you. Your job, your team..I know how much they mean to you, and I want you to know that I respect that. I want to support you, Y/n, in everything you do."

You frowned slightly, unsure where this was going. "What do you mean?" Natasha took a deep breath, then turned to Jake, who nodded and stepped forward, giving something in your hands. It was a framed certificate, one that you immediately recognized. It was an award given to firefighters who had performed exceptionally in their service, an award that you yourself had won years ago. But this wasn’t your award. This was a new one, freshly printed, with Natasha’s name on it.

Your eyes widened as you read the inscription. It was an honorary award, given to someone who had shown extraordinary understanding and support for the firefighting community. It wasn't just a symbol, it was something that had to be earned.

"I talked to Jake.." Natasha explained, her voice gentle but steady. "And with the rest of the team. I wanted to understand what you do, what you go through every day. I spent the last few weeks learning about your work, the risks you take, and the sacrifices you make. I even went through part of the training to get a real sense of what it’s like. This award..it’s not just a piece of paper. It’s my way of showing you that I’m ready to be there for you, in the way you need."

You stared at the certificate, your emotions swirling. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the gesture. It was clear that Natasha had gone to great lengths to understand your world, to step into your shoes and appreciate the life you were dedicated to. The weight of Natasha’s efforts, the sincerity in her eyes, all of it hit you deeply.

Natasha continued, her voice growing more emotional as she spoke. "Y/n, I know I messed up. I let my insecurities and fears get in the way, and I pushed you away when I should have held on. But I’m here now, ready to support you in everything you do, no matter what it takes. I’m not asking for everything to go back to the way it was. I know that’s not possible. I just want a chance to be a part of your life again, to do it right this time."

You felt your heart being pulled in multiple directions. On one hand, the pain of your breakup was still fresh, the wounds not fully healed. But on the other hand, Natasha’s gesture was so heartfelt, so genuine, that it was impossible to ignore. You glanced around the room, seeing your team, your family looking at you with hopeful eyes. They had been your support through the hardest times, and now, in this moment, they were silently encouraging you to consider Natasha’s plea.

You turned back to Natasha, who was waiting with bated breath for your response, her vulnerability on full display, but her determination unwavering. It was clear that this wasn’t just an apology, no it was a promise. A promise to be better, to be the partner you had always needed.

You took a deep breath, your emotions swirling as you searched for the right words. "Natasha..What you’ve done means a lot to me. More than I can put into words. But this isn’t something I can decide on the spot. I need time..time to think about everything, to process it all." Natasha nodded immediately, her eyes shining with understanding and relief. "Of course! Take all the time you need. I’ll wait, as long as it takes."

You appreciated Natasha’s willingness to give you space. You could see the sincerity in her eyes, and it softened something inside you. "Thank you, Natasha." you said quietly. "I need to do what’s right for me…and for us, whatever that may be."

The room was thick with emotion as you turned to Jake, who gave you a small, encouraging smile. "You don’t have to decide anything today, you know." he said gently. "Just know that we’re here for you, no matter what you choose." You nodded, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders. You knew you needed to take things slowly, to figure out what was best for your heart and your future. But for the first time in a long while, you felt a spark of hope..the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you and Natasha could find a way back to each other.

Natasha took a step forward and looked to the certificate and back to you. "This is yours." she said softly. "It’s not just about me, it’s about you and everything you stand for. And no matter what happens between us, I will always respect that."

You felt a warmth in that sentence, a reminder of what you had once shared. But you didn’t allow yourself to get lost in the past. You knew you had to be careful, to protect yourself from further pain. "Thank you," you said, your voice firm. "I’ll keep this, and I’ll think about everything you’ve said."

Natasha smiled, a gentle, hopeful smile that made your heart skip a beat. With that, you turned and left the room, the certificate clutched in your hand. Your team watched you, giving you the space you needed to process everything. Natasha remained behind, her heart heavy yet lighter, heavy with the knowledge that she still had a long way to go to regain your trust, but lighter with the hope that you might, just might, find your way back to each other.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, you felt a mixture of relief, confusion, and a small spark of hope. You weren’t ready to fully open the door to Natasha again, but you weren’t ready to close it completely either. The road ahead was long, full of uncertainties and difficult choices, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were moving in the right direction. And as you looked down at the certificate in your hand, you knew that whatever happened next, you would face it with the same strength and determination that had carried you through everything else.

(Hi! I tried something new and I'll leave the ending up to you. You can decide how it ends for both of you. :))

[doldoldolcetto]

how expensive is your meat

"'s about six hundred cens per pound, but if we're talkin about th' other type, 's free. One time only an' only for you."

[milotraflgkl]

Safe Word

SANJI X FEM!READER !SMUT!

note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: SMUT!, safe word mention, sanji being a loser but also amazing in bed, finger, eating out, praises. WC: 2346

Sanji slowly looked up at you, “A.. A safe word?” He muttered, his cheeks turning slightly pink and his tone softened as if anyone could hear you two when you weren’t even near the crew. His eyebrows pressed together and he licked his lips as he looked back down at the meal he was prepping, he took a moment to continue his work his eyebrows staying where they were before he turned to look back up at you. “Why would we need a safe word?” He asks, his facial expression stuck on confusion but as you watched you could see how it slowly shifted to worry. “I haven’t been, hurting you during it.. right?” He asks, as he stops what he’s doing and quickly rounds the counter to stand next to you.

His hands quickly came up to your face and his thumb brushed your cheek gently, “No! Not at all Sanji.” You reassured him, you paused for a moment your facial expression struggling to find a set emotion to land on as your lips pursed out and then were brought back in. You opened your mouth, “But I wouldn’t… mind if you were a bit rougher.” You finally spat out the words, you felt your body become hot and you knew that the blush was obvious especially since you could see Sanji turn into a bright red tomato. “Oh… Oh…” He choked out, you felt his hands become sweatier and he slowly took his hands away.

He turned away and made his way to work on his dinner, “We aren’t that far from the next island.” He spoke out, you snapped your head to look towards him. “Wha..What?” You muttered, “We will get a room on the next island.” He said, his voice was deeper and as you watched him you saw how red the tip of his ears were.

The next few days were pure torture and it didn’t help that Sanji was practically teasing you, the way his eyes would stare at you until you connected eyesight and then he’d move his eyes down taking in every single inch of your body. The way his hands would linger a bit longer then would softly move away from your skin leaving chills down your spine, almost feeling yourself lean towards his touch not wanting it to leave. You couldn’t do anything about it either, especially with the lack of privacy getting Sanji alone or even being alone yourself was a rare delicacy. But what you would do to just jump onto Sanji and let him use you for his, clear desires? It felt like it was taking years to get to the next island, your body aching in need the more you thought about how far the island was and yet how close Sanji was.

Finally, the day had come, the ship was put securely into a spot on the dock and the crew had finally decided on a good place to stay. Sanji and you were put in a room together because of your relationship but also because Sanji double-made sure with a quick request told to Nami. You felt yourself become more tense and excited for night to come, as the crew went about their normal routine of gathering supplies then heading to the closet bar to finally relax after so many days of sailing.

You sat at the bar and drank a small martini that had a paper umbrella in it, that was so graciously gifted to you by the bartender who had the hots for you. You didn’t pay him any mind more so lost in the thoughts of why Sanji had been so distant yet so close, as well as the sound of chatter and music taking up the rest of any other space that could’ve been left to think about the bartender who constantly had his eyes on you. You slowly stirred the paper umbrella around in the drink, your elbow against the counter and chin being held by your hand. As the bartender came over for the fifth time to interrupt your thought he asked if you were enjoying the drink and if you needed anything else, as well as sliding in a smooth flirt. You giggled at the notion, more flattered that he found you attractive. You denied a new drink and silently ignored his flirt unaware of the glaring eyes only feet away from you, it didn’t take long for you to notice when you felt a hand snake against your back and hold the side of your body tightly. You quickly turn and look up at Sanji who was already staring at you, a soft smile on his face and his beautiful blue eyes admiring your facial features. But most importantly your lips, it seemed that after a moment of looking at the top of your face, his eyes froze at your lips and didn’t move an inch. “Hi, Sanji.” You spoke out finally and his eyes immediately snapped to look back into yours, “Hi [Name].” He responds.

It didn’t take much longer until two of his fingers gently moved to find the bottom of your chin, pushing your head up a bit more before he leaned himself closer to you and pressed his soft lips against yours. You could taste nicotine fresh on his lips, he must’ve just come in from a smoke. You thought to yourself before they were interrupted by the feeling of his hand softly grazing your knee and moving upwards on your thigh, threatening to reach up the bottom of your dress. You looked down at his hand and grabbed it gently, “What do you think you are doing?” You ask him, Sanji looks at you with desire glossed over his eyes and his pupils blown out absorbing ocean-blue eyes. “I got us a room.” He responds as he squeezes your thigh gently his lips gently grazing against yours, you shudder at the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You nod unable to think properly about the situation you are in, Sanji gently moves his hand to grab ahold of yours and pulls you along with him as you leave the bar. Sanji leads you through this building and up the stairs until you find a room with the numbers that match the numbers engraved on the key that Sanji held in his off-hand. He slowly lets go of your hand and unlocks the door, stepping inside the room and then holding the door open for you as you step in afterward.

With one swift movement, Sanji grabs ahold of your waist and guides you to the bed, he’s gentle with his actions still keeping up his gentlemanly personality. His lips quickly find yours as well as his hand finding the nape of your neck to hold you closer, while his hand left on your waist gently pulls you closer to his hips allowing you to feel the bulge that pressed harshly against his nice dress pants. You moan as you feel him pressed against you and this only allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth, it’s slow at first the way his tongue dances along with yours before he becomes desperate for more as if he is starving and wants to taste more of your lips. You begin to run out of air and pull away from him, a trail of saliva connects between your tongues as you both look at each other with lust and need. Sanji didn’t waste any time as he moved back to you and kissed gently along your jawline, you tilted your head allowing him more access to your neck, and as if he read your mind his lips slowly trailed down your neck beginning to give gentle bites to it. He began to slowly suck on your skin leaving marks that would be visible to everyone the next day and as an apology for being so harsh he’d kiss it gently, his hand slipping up your neck and up to your head to hold it.

He wanted you to feel secure and safe before he allowed himself to go crazy, His hand on your waist gripped tightly before it found its way down to the bottom of your dress and slowly snaked its way underneath. It sent a shiver down your spine at the way his thin and cold fingers ran across your thigh ever so softly, it did make you feel extremely safe and well cared for. The way his fingers gently lifted your dress upwards and the hand that had held your hand slipped down to grab the zipper of your dress pulling it down. The straps of your dress fell off to the side and revealed your chest that wasn’t hidden by anything as you decided to not wear anything underneath. Sanji pulled away from your pretty and purple-decorated neck, his eyes slowly moved from your neck and down to your chest as he let out a shaky breath at the sight of you. “God… [Name]…” He moaned out as his hands slowly made contact with your breasts and held them gently before his fingers moved to gently twist at your nipples. The small whine you released from your throat was as if the angels from heaven were singing upon Sanji to come toward the gates of heaven.

Sanji didn’t spend any time before he reached his head down and his mouth found the soft skin of your breasts, he gently kissed it and then left a few open-mouthed kisses. “God [Name]…” His hot breath against your chest made you shiver, “You are absolutely beautiful.” He whispered against your skin, as his hands slowly moved from your breast and slowly moved to the rest of your dress tugging it down slowly until it rested against your hips. His hands shook against your skin almost with nerves that he could easily break you like you were the finest china in the world. His hands gently squeezed your hips before he continued to move your dress down your thighs, he took in a shaky breath as he looked at your lower body covered by lace underwear. You had to lift yourself slightly to get the dress to slip from under your butt and Sanji continued to take the dress off and then dropped it onto the floor.

He wasted no time latching his lips back onto your skin, his lips dragging down slowly before they reached the hem of your underwear and the feeling of his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine and a shock to your core. “Relax [Name].” He whispers against your skin, his hands slowly moving to push your shoulders back as a way for him to tell you to lay back which you did gladly. “I’m going to treat you tonight~” He hums, he looks down your torso to catch sight of your eyes and the two of you stare for a moment before you watch his curled brow disappear below down to your clit. His tongue dragged against the fabric and the feeling of his spit mixing with your already-soaked underwear caused you to whimper, “S..Sanji..”. You begged him as your hand found his golden locks to hold them. “Use your words, princess.” He speaks between your thighs, and you become flustered at the explicit words that you would have to say. “Please take my underwear off…” You beg him, your hand tightening against his hair which causes him to groan and send vibrations to your core.

“Of course princess.” He responds, his fingers sliding up from your thighs to grab the top of your underwear and slide them off throwing them off to the side. “So wet for me~” He sings out before he dives in. The feeling of his tongue caused you to yelp in shock and your back arched as his tongue began to swallow you whole, the feeling was so overwhelming as his tongue curled inside of you. His fingers followed after, and two of his lanky fingers slipped into you and found the spot that made you sing out that sweet sweet melody Sanji loved to hear. His fingers moved inside of you with such skill, that your back began to arch more. “Ngh, Sanji please…” You hummed out your knuckles becoming white from holding onto his hair so tightly, He didn’t he was relentless with his tongue as it moved inside of you. As he worked inside of you, his tongue hitting every spot and his fingers pumping in and out of you quickly.

You were squirming underneath him but his hands held onto you so tightly that all of your movement was limited, “fu..fuck” you muttered, “I’m… I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered out, but Sanji didn’t stop. He kept plunging his tongue into you relentlessly and his fingers continued to reach the spot, it didn’t take long before you began to release yourself into his mouth and Sanji took in every single last drop that you let out. Even with the sounds coming from your mouth, he held your hips tightly and didn’t seem like he was going to let go of you anytime soon. He swallowed your release and continued to eat you out, it took you a moment to realize that he was still eating you out. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and overstimulating, your legs began to tighten around Sanjis head which he slowly held your legs apart. He didn’t stop, he was eating you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to eat in his life. It took you a moment before you quickly slipped the safe word out, which Sanji stopped and looked up towards you. You watched his face emerge covered in your juices, “Princess… I’m not even done.” He whispered to you his pupils blown out.

[riordanness]

sweet nothing - [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: willy freaking wonka’s curls

requested: no

Something about this laundry place was giving me the creeps, but I’m sure if it’s the scary man who’d brought us here, the overly cheery lady with the awful teeth, or the much-too-convenient cheap as chips room.

Willy seems to be completely trusting in these people, though, and I trust him with anything, so I decide to just take it as it comes, and keep my eyes open for anything else strange.

We’re lead upstairs by Bleacher, with Mrs Scrubbit following from behind. She chatters the whole way up, bombarding us with information about the place and our room and how much impact this laundry business has had on the town itself.

Bleacher pushes open a door, and lets us pass. I step inside after Willy, and glance quickly around the simplistic room. It’s pretty, very white, and has little daisies on the wallpaper.

“There you two are,” Mrs Scrubbit says happily. I wonder to myself if her name, or Bleacher’s for that matter, are actually their real names, or if they just made them up for the glamour of it all. They are pretty catchy names.

“Thank you, Mrs Scrubbit,” I say, and Willy chimes in after me.

“Thank you both.”

Mrs Scrubbit, flustered, grins at us both and waves her hand in the air vigorously. “There’s a bar of soap and a washing cloth on the sink, and fresh linens in the cupboard over there.”

I give her a smile, and my worries from earlier are almost forgotten. This place truly is a miracle.

After they leave, and the door has closed, I realise how exhausted I am. I collapse onto the floor, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I let out a sigh. “Who knew one single day could be so busy, huh?”

I can hear Willy dropping his coat to the floor, and laughing quietly to himself. “Yes indeed, y/n.”

I open my eyes to the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and it is only then I notice the most obvious of facts. There is only one bed in this room.

Willy seems to realise this at the same moment I do. “Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” I echo.

There’s a heat beat of silence, then Willy quickly gets to his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

“What?” I’m almost annoyed. My best friend is my favourite person, and I love him dearly, but he is almost too kind sometimes. Kindness is a virtue, but in Willy, it often hurts himself in the process.

“You take the bed,” Willy repeats.

“Don't be ridiculous,” I say, still on the floor. “It’s a big enough bed for us both. I won’t have the best chocolate maker in the universe sleeping on this cold stone floor. It’s uncomfortable.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re literally sitting on the ground right now.”

I shrug. “Floor time is fun for me. Not for sleeping though. That would be kinda awful.”

Willy smiles softly. “Alright, bean. We can share.”

I have no idea why he calls me that, but I’ve long since given up on asking. He always just grins his wicked little smile and says something like, ‘I’ll tell you one day’.

I close my eyes again, and yawn. “I’m so tired, Will.”

“Don’t call me that.”

I laugh, and open my eyes again. “Sorry not sorry. Help me up.” I hold both my hands out to him.

Willy walks over, rolls his eyes at my antics, and pulls me to my feet.

“Come on,” he says softly, his fingers lingering near my unbrushed, unruly hair. “Let’s get you to bed, bean.”

“Okay,” I mumble, suddenly even sleepier. His quiet tone and gentle touch are pulling me even closer to the darkness of sleep. I let Willy pull off my jacket, and I slide out of my dress, leaving just my petticoat and undergarments on. I crawl under the covers, shimmying as close to the wall as I can to allow room for Willy.

He shrugs off his vest and shoes, switches off the light above us, and climbs in after me, lying as far away as possible on the other side of the bed. I understand the politeness in his gesture, but my tiredness is fogging my brain up, and I want him to be close.

“Willy?” I almost whine.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers.

“Can you hold me?” I mutter, my eyes shut tightly. I barely register his reply, but I do feel his strong arms as they tighten around my waist, and pull me close to him. Then, the darkness takes me.

I wake up slowly the next morning, my senses taking longer than usual to begin working. Smell is first. Chocolate and mint and rain. Then sound. The familiar sound of my best friend’s breathing. Then touch. Warm blankets, warm arms, my cheek pressed against a warm, moving, yet somewhat hard surface. Then, finally, sight.

My eyes clear, and I blink the sleep away, and I’m met with something extremely unexpected, but also very pleasant.

Willy’s sleeping face, only inches from my own, his dark curls spread across his forehead and the pillow we share. His arms are around me, holding me tightly even in his sleep. My head is resting on his chest, which is slowly rising and falling with his gentle breathing.

I myself try not to breathe, not daring to even move. I want nothing more than to extend this moment for as long as possible, maybe even forever.

Willy’s eyes flutter open, and their soft chocolate gaze lands on mine.

He smiles, and I’m almost certain it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

“Good morning, bean.”

“Hi,” I whisper. “You still owe me the reason behind that nickname.”

Willy smiles, his eyes flitting all over my face, as if he’s relishing the closeness between us as much as I am.

“Because,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “You are as important to me as a cocoa bean is to chocolate.”

I let that fact sink in. “Oh,” I manage, my chest filling with all the love I have for this boy beside me.

“What’s wrong?” Willy tilts his head down to look at me properly, concern filling his features.

“Nothing,” I answer. “I just… love you, Willy Wonka. I really love you.”

He smiles again, wider this time. “And I love you, my little cocoa bean.”

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry if this one's not as good as some of the other Kinktober things I've posted. I am running on a serious lack of sleep and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. So there may be some mistakes I missed proofreading. But hopefully you still enjoy it!

PROMPT: "Do you know how hard you make it to keep my hands off you?"

KINK: Uniform Kink

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (Oral: Female Receiving, P in V Sex.)

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

TAG LIST: See Comments Below

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

You weren’t nervous walking into The Hard Deck—not at first. You’d been in San Diego for the summer, looking for fun and maybe a little excitement. Matching with Jake Seresin on Tinder seemed like just that—a summer fling with a ridiculously attractive guy who, based on his profile, didn’t take life too seriously. All of his pictures were casual: him in a white or black T-shirt, jeans, and that one photo of him at the beach that had you staring at your screen longer than you’d admit.

You’d chatted for a few days—mostly flirty, nothing too deep—but when he invited you out to this bar, you figured why not? It was supposed to be just for fun. No pressure.

But the moment you stepped inside, all that confidence you’d walked in with started to falter. Your eyes found Jake instantly, standing near the pool tables at the back of the bar. Except he wasn’t in jeans and a T-shirt like you’d expected. No, Jake was in full Service Khakis, his uniform pristine and fitted in a way that made it impossible not to stare. He looked so different from the laid-back guy in his profile. Somehow, seeing him like this—with his blonde hair perfectly tousled, green eyes sharp, and that devastatingly handsome smile—took him to a whole new level.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, you wondered if you were in over your head.

Jake was in the middle of lining up his next shot when he saw you step through the door, and his focus shifted entirely. Handing off the pool cue to Rooster without a word, he straightened up, a grin already forming as he moved to meet you halfway across the bar. His Service Khakis fit him like a glove, the kind of look that was impossible to ignore. And from the way his green eyes lit up as he saw you approaching, he was just as eager to finally meet in person.

“Seresin,” he said smoothly, offering you a hand. “Jake Seresin. But I guess you already knew that.”

You smiled, taking his hand, feeling the warm confidence in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Jake."

He wasted no time, gently guiding you over to the bar, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. 

As the bartender approached, Jake’s eyes flicked toward you with a teasing grin. “So, what’s it gonna be? Let me guess—something fruity with rum or vodka?”

His voice dripped with playful confidence, clearly assuming he had you figured out. 

But when you raised a brow and said, "Whiskey. Neat," you could practically see the moment you caught him off guard. He blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before that smirk returned.

“Whiskey, huh?” he drawled, clearly impressed. 

You raised a brow, leaning against the bar. “Why, what drink did you think I was?”

Jake chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Honestly? I was expecting something sweeter.”

You shot him a teasing smile as you took your drink. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping just enough to feel intimate. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to figure out.”

You grinned, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Guess you will.”

With drinks in hand, you and Jake made your way back to the pool tables. The room was alive with chatter, but your focus was entirely on him—and his was undoubtedly on you.

He grabbed a pool cue and handed it to you, his eyes trailing down your figure with a smirk. "You any good at this, or should I go easy on you?" His voice dripped with teasing confidence.

You tilted your head, giving him a pointed look. "Oh, I can hold my own, Seresin. But I wouldn’t mind watching you try."

His eyes glinted at the challenge, and you felt the buzz of anticipation in the air between you, the kind that made your skin warm. He was everything you'd usually avoid—cocky, a little too charming for his own good—but in that uniform, with that grin, he was impossible to resist.

Jake leaned over the table to line up his shot, and your gaze flickered down to the way his biceps flexed beneath the crisp fabric of his uniform. He noticed, of course.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a low chuckle escaping his lips without breaking his focus.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let on how much you did. "Maybe. Haven't decided yet."

He straightened up, walking over to you with that confident swagger, closing the space between you just a little too much. 

His voice was low as he said, “You know, you’re making it hard to concentrate over here.”

You grinned, biting your lip before responding. “Do you know how hard you make it to keep my hands off you?”

Jake’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying how flustered you were trying not to be. He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against yours. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

The tension simmered, unspoken but undeniable. You took a small step back, forcing yourself to keep the upper hand, and shook your head with a smile. “I’m not that easy, Jake. If you want me to take you seriously, you’ll have to work for it.”

He grinned, leaning casually against the pool table, his gaze never leaving yours. “Who says I’m not up for the challenge?”

Over the next hour, the flirting became a game of give and take. Every shot you made, he found an excuse to stand closer, to brush his hand lightly against yours, to flash that smile that made your stomach flutter. His eyes would flicker to your lips, lingering just long enough to make you wonder if he was going to kiss you right then and there.

You were acutely aware of every move he made—the way his fingers gripped the pool cue, the effortless confidence in his stance. He was making it hard to say no, and he knew it. The cockiness wasn’t overbearing, though; it was just enough to keep you on your toes, wanting more.

Finally, after another round, Jake leaned down next to you as you lined up a shot, his breath warm against your neck. 

“So,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing your ear, “how long are we going to pretend you don’t want me to take you home tonight?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed to keep your cool, straightening up and turning to face him, keeping your expression teasing. “Maybe I’m just making sure you’ve earned it.”

Jake raised a brow, stepping even closer until you were almost pinned between him and the table. His voice was low and full of that confident drawl. “Trust me, sweetheart, when you’re ready, I’ll make it worth your while.”

There it was—the line between teasing and something more serious, and you could feel it shift in that moment. Your pulse quickened, the weight of the decision settling between you.

You gave him a playful smile, letting the tension linger just a little longer. 

“You know, I think I might just take you up on that offer,” you said, tilting your head. “But first, I think you owe me a win on the pool table.”

Jake’s smirk was instant, the cocky edge returning as he handed you the cue. “Whatever you say, darlin'. But just so you know, when I take you home tonight, it’ll be the best win you’ve ever had.”

The two of you were deep into the pool game, but you could tell by the way Jake was playing that he wasn’t giving it his all. You smirked to yourself, noticing how his shots always seemed to fall just short of the pocket, his moves just a little too casual. It was clear he planned on letting you win, and while you appreciated the gesture, you had no intention of dragging this game out. Not with the way your heart was racing every time he leaned a little too close or flashed that confident smile.

Lining up your next shot, you took a deep breath, feeling his eyes on you. You purposely missed, standing up straight and stretching your arms as if calling it quits. 

“You know, Jake,” you said casually, glancing around the bar, “it’s getting a little crowded in here. I think I’m going to head out.”

Jake’s brow furrowed for a split second, caught off guard by your sudden decision. You could see the flicker of confusion cross his face, quickly replaced by that easy grin.

“Calling it a night already, darlin’? I thought you’d want to finish the game,” he teased, though his tone carried a hint of disappointment.

You smiled softly, stepping back from the table and slinging your purse over your shoulder.

“Maybe some other time. Thanks for the drinks though,” you said, your voice light, as if you were genuinely planning on leaving alone. 

You gave him a small wave, turning toward the door. Jake straightened up, watching you head for the exit. His grin faltered just a touch, clearly not expecting you to walk away like that.

But just as you reached the edge of the crowd, you stopped. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned your head slightly, glancing back over your shoulder. You met his gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary before flashing him a knowing smile. 

“You coming, too?”

Jake blinked, his surprise melting into something far more playful. His grin was back in full force as he handed his pool cue to Phoenix before making his way through the crowd toward you, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

“You know,” he said as he caught up, that cocky edge back in his voice, “you could’ve just said you didn’t want me to go easy on you.”

You shrugged, biting back a smirk as you started toward the door, Jake falling into step beside you. “Where’s the fun in that?”

The heat between you had been simmering all night, but now it was undeniable. Every step you took together, side by side, had an electricity to it, an unspoken promise hanging in the air as you both headed out into the night.

The night air was warm as you stepped outside The Hard Deck, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore filling the quiet space around you. Jake was close behind, his steps slowing as you reached a spot away from the crowd. You stopped and turned to face him, your pulse quickening when you met his gaze—those piercing green eyes that had been focused on you all night, filled with a quiet intensity now that you were alone.

Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you in one smooth movement. You reached up, sliding your hands around the back of his neck, and pulled him down toward you, your lips pressing against his. The kiss was sudden and electric, all the teasing and tension from the night culminating in this one moment. Jake's response was immediate—his hands found your waist, gripping you firmly and pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

His kiss was just as confident as he was, but there was a hint of something more, something that made your heart race faster. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his touch strong but careful, as if he had been waiting for this all night.

When you finally pulled away, your lips still tingling from the kiss, you looked up at him, breathless but composed. 

“So,” you said, your voice teasing as you tilted your head slightly, “are you going to take me home…Lieutenant?”

Jake’s grin was instant—one of those slow, easy smiles that seemed to light up his whole face. The title sounded damn good coming from you, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you said it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, his voice low and full of promise. 

His hand slid down to capture yours, and with one last look that made your knees weak, he turned toward the parking lot, tugging you along with him.

As you walked side by side, the charged energy between you had shifted. No more teasing, no more holding back. Tonight, you were both crossing that line, and neither of you was looking back.

Jake’s truck rumbled to life as the two of you settled inside, the low hum of the engine the only sound at first. He focused on the road ahead, but you couldn’t stop sneaking glances his way. Even now, after the kiss that had left your heart racing, the sight of him in that uniform was doing things to you. His broad shoulders filled out the khaki shirt perfectly, the crisp lines of his Navy service uniform making him somehow even more irresistible than you’d imagined.

Jake noticed, of course. After a few minutes, he smirked and glanced over at you, his green eyes catching yours as you quickly looked away, trying not to be too obvious. 

"You keep staring at me like that, darlin’, and I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a thing for guys in uniform," he teased, his voice light but laced with that ever-present cocky confidence. "You know…you could just take a picture. It’ll last longer."

You rolled your eyes at him, biting back a grin. “Well, I would,” you replied, glancing at him again, "but something tells me no picture could really do you justice." That made Jake’s smirk widen, but before he could fire back, you continued, your voice a little softer now, more honest. "But...I have to admit, there’s something about you in that uniform that makes it hard to help myself."

He glanced over at you again, raising an eyebrow as if he hadn’t expected that level of honesty. 

"Oh yeah?" His tone dropped, the teasing giving way to something a little more serious. "And what exactly is it that gets to you, sweetheart? The authority? The way it fits?" He let the question hang, his voice like a low rumble as he asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t back down. You leaned back in your seat, turning fully to look at him now. "Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself in it," you said, your eyes tracing his profile, "or maybe it’s just how good you look in it. Either way…it’s working for you."

Jake chuckled softly, clearly pleased with your response, though his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a little. "Well, I gotta say…I like the way you’re lookin’ at me right now," he said, his voice quieter, more intent, as he focused on the road. "Makes it real hard to keep my eyes where they’re supposed to be."

The tension in the truck thickened as your words hung between you, the atmosphere shifting from playful to charged once more. You both knew where the night was headed, but for now, the anticipation was building with every shared glance, every teasing word.

When Jake pulled up outside your apartment, you could barely wait to get inside, that teasing grin of his still playing on your mind. As you led him up the stairs, your heart raced, knowing exactly where the night was headed.

As soon as you unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jake wasted no time. His hand caught the door, swinging it shut behind him with a soft thud before his lips were on yours again—hot, insistent, and full of that same hunger you’d felt building between you all night. His hands were on your waist, pulling you firmly into him, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of his uniform as he pressed against you.

You melted into the kiss, your fingers threading through his sun-kissed hair as you pushed up on your toes, giving into the intoxicating pull of him. The smell of his cologne—woodsy and warm—mixed with the scent of the sea still lingering faintly on him, a reminder of his life out there, on the edge.

Your back hit the wall near the entryway, but neither of you broke the kiss. If anything, it deepened, the urgency between you growing as his hands roamed your sides, finding the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath, his touch warm against your skin. Jake groaned softly against your lips, his body pressing harder against yours as if he couldn’t get close enough.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, your chest heaving, his forehead rested against yours. He was still holding you close, his eyes half-lidded but dark with want. 

"You sure you want me here, darlin’?" he asked, his voice rough and low, a mix of that cocky confidence and something deeper, a kind of restraint that surprised you after the way he’d been looking at you all night.

You met his gaze, your hands still tangled in his hair as you nodded, your voice breathless but certain. "Yeah, Jake. I want you here."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips were back on yours in an instant, his hands lifting you off the ground as he backed you toward the hallway leading to your bedroom. Each step he took felt deliberate, as though he was savoring every second, every touch, the intensity between you simmering just beneath the surface.

The moment you reached the bedroom, the tension that had been crackling between you and Jake finally snapped. His lips stayed on yours as you fumbled your way toward the bed, your hands roaming over the fabric of his uniform. When your legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pulled back just enough to tug at your clothes, his fingers moving with surprising gentleness given the hunger in his eyes.

Piece by piece, he undressed you, taking in every inch of newly exposed skin with that signature Hangman smirk. When you were finally bare in front of him, Jake’s eyes darkened, his gaze raking over your body in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Goddamn," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. "You’re perfect."

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, but before he could strip out of his uniform, your hands shot out to stop him. You placed your palms on his chest, shaking your head with a teasing smile. 

"Keep it on... for now."

Jake raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening into that cocky grin you’d come to love. "Yes, ma’am," he drawled, his voice low and rough.

His hands found your hips again, and with gentle pressure, he guided you down onto the bed, your back meeting the soft sheets beneath you. His strong hands slid up your thighs, spreading them apart slowly as he kneeled between your legs.

You felt your heart race in anticipation as he leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Every kiss, every touch, sent a jolt of electricity through you. He paused, just shy of where you needed him most, and looked up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes, as though waiting for you to say something.

But you couldn’t, not when he was this close, not when your body was already aching for him. Your breath hitched as his lips finally found their way to the space between your legs, and any teasing thoughts you had were replaced by pure, unadulterated need.

Jake didn’t waste any time. The moment his mouth pressed against you, a wave of pleasure hit you, and it became clear just how skilled he was. His tongue moved with purpose, tracing every sensitive spot, and you couldn’t help the small gasps that escaped your lips. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it felt as if every flick of his tongue was calculated to drive you closer to the edge.

The sensation was overwhelming, but what really did it for you was the sight of him—his head between your thighs, looking up at you with that same hungry intensity. His khaki uniform was still on, the sleeves pulling taut around his arms as he gripped your legs, keeping you in place. The combination of that pristine military uniform and the absolute sin he was committing between your legs made the whole experience even more intoxicating.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and thick as he pulled back just enough to speak. His lips glistened from his efforts, his eyes locked on yours. “You look so good like this. You’re close, aren’t you?”

You could barely respond, too wrapped up in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. He knew, though—he could feel the way your body tensed, the way your breathing quickened.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his voice soft but commanding. “Let go for me. I want to feel you.”

His words were like a spark, setting off something deep inside you. The combination of his mouth and his voice, that low drawl filled with desire, pushed you right to the brink. His tongue circled you again, slow and deliberate, and your body responded instinctively, arching up off the bed as your release started to build.

“That’s it,” Jake whispered, his fingers digging into your thighs as he held you steady. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

With a final flick of his tongue and the pressure of his lips, you felt yourself unravel. The world seemed to blur for a moment as your climax hit you hard, your moans filling the room as Jake worked you through it, never letting up until every last bit of pleasure had coursed through you.

Jake climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face. The warmth of his body radiated down to you, and your heart raced as he leaned in for a kiss, his mouth moving softly against yours.

Your hands instinctively moved to his uniform shirt, fingers deftly working to undo the buttons. With each one that came undone, his kisses traveled down to your neck, teasing and sucking softly before he pulled back, leaning closer to your ear.

“You know,” he drawled, his voice thick with that signature Hangman cockiness, “I know you like the uniform on me, but I think you’d like it even better off.”

With that, he sat up, leaning back on his heels, and you watched, entranced, as he slowly undid the buttons you hadn’t gotten to. The fabric fell away from his shoulders and arms, revealing toned muscles that made your breath hitch. Then he pulled his white tank top over his head, and your hands instinctively reached out, running down his chest and abs.

You’d seen the beach pictures on his profile, but seeing him in person was a whole different experience. The way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent shivers down your spine.

He moved to the edge of the bed, his fingers deftly removing his belt and sliding down his pants. When he was finally undressed, he joined you back on the bed, sitting on the edge as he pulled you gently to straddle his lap. His hands found your waist, grounding you as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, desire lacing your words.

Jake’s expression shifted, a hint of hesitation flashing across his face. “I don’t have any protection with me,” he admitted, the cockiness momentarily replaced by sincerity.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. Thankfully, you still had some condoms in your nightstand from your last relationship. Leaning over, Jake’s hands steadying you, you reached into the drawer and pulled one out. He slid it on himself with ease, and the moment felt electric, anticipation crackling in the air.

You positioned yourself over him, lifting your hips slightly. As you slowly slid down, both of you let out moans, the feeling of him filling you making your body tingle with pleasure. His hands on your waist began to guide your pace, but soon he decided he wanted more, thrusting up into you with urgency. Your head fell back as waves of pleasure washed over you. 

“God, that feels so good,” you breathed out, lost in the moment.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged, his voice deep and low, urging you to speak.

You called out his name, breathless with desire, but he smirked, challenging you. “Uh uh, what’s my name?”

In that moment, the realization of what he wanted ignited something within you. You moaned out, “Lieutenant,” and the satisfaction in his eyes made you feel even more exhilarated.

He picked up the pace, thrusting into you with a hunger that matched your own, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, his hands gripping your waist as he continued to drive you both higher, the world outside forgotten as you focused solely on each other.

The rhythm between you two intensified, each thrust igniting the fire building within you. As you felt the heat coil tighter in your core, Jake's hands gripped your waist, guiding you as he drove deeper, his breath ragged against your ear.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice thick with desire, urging you to reach that peak with him. You felt every nerve ending come alive, the pleasure building to an exquisite tension that threatened to consume you both.

With a few more powerful thrusts, the dam inside you broke. A wave of ecstasy washed over you, sending you spiraling into bliss. “Jake!” you cried out, feeling yourself unravel as pleasure coursed through you. Your body tightened around him, pulling him in deeper as he met you, the two of you surrendering to the moment together.

Jake let out a low groan, the sound sending another shiver through you as he hit his own release, filling you as the heat radiated between you. You could feel the tension dissipate, the world around you fading into the background as you both lost yourselves in the afterglow of your shared climax.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, breathless and entwined. You lay there, bodies still connected, as the warmth of the moment enveloped you. Jake’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his breath gradually slowing as he smiled down at you.

“That was…” he started, searching for the right words, his grin wide and genuine.

“Unforgettable,” you finished, looking up at him, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re not too bad yourself, you know that?”

You rolled onto your side, propping your head up with your hand as you gazed at him, feeling a mix of affection and exhilaration. The energy still buzzed between you, a reminder of the passion you’d just shared.

As you both lay there, the reality of your summer fling washed over you. Jake wasn’t just some guy you met on a dating app; he was the kind of man who took your breath away, and for tonight, you were grateful for every moment you’d get with him.

[zebuie]

SACCHARINE

[𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; dealer!ellie x fem!reader

ㅤ→ READ THIS. ⨳ DAILY CLICK

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒:; your friend insists you join her in a party, and you go along not expecting much but little do u know….

[𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒]; thank u SMM for 100 <3, not proofread, 3k words woops, reader is sick 🤧 (I relate.), swearing, pet names, degrading, strap sucking (e receiving), strap sex (r receiving), eating out (e & r receiving), fingering (e receiving), cum eating (e & r receiving), Ellie calls the strap her dick/cock, aftercare.

Dina was standing over you as you lay in bed, covered in used tissues. "Come onnnnn—You need to go to the party tonight. It's going to be so much fun, and you love parties! Plus, it's been days since you've gotten out of bed, and like I'm kinda worried about you y'know."

you looked at her, nose running and eyes watery. "But I'm so sick," u groaned.

Dina persisted, "Pleeeaaase? It's going to be a blast, nd you never know what could happen. You might even meet someone new or just have a great time! n' don't worry, I'll make sure you have the best time ever. Just say yes."

You sighed and thought for a moment. Despite your illness, you secretly wanted to go to the party. "Fine fuck, okay. I'll go," you mumbled weakly.

Dina's face lit up with excitement. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you! " she squealed happily. "I know you won't regret it. Let's get you all dolled up now cmon,"

You groaned inwardly, knowing that getting ready would be a challenge in your current condition. However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, this party could be the distraction you needed to lift your spirits.

Dina started gathering your clothes and makeup, while you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed and wobbled to the bathroom to get ready. Despite feeling like death, you made an effort to look somewhat presentable.

As you stood in front of the mirror, applying makeup half-heartedly, Dina came in with your  party attire - a shimmering dress and sleek heels. And She helped you put them on.

Once you were finally ready to go, Dina practically dragged you out the door. The party was just a short walk away, and the sound of music and chatter grew louder with each step. The night air felt cool against your flushed skin, making you shiver slightly.

As you stepped inside the party venue, the vibrant energy hit you like a wave. Colorful lights flickered and danced, and people milled about, chatting and laughing. The music pulsed through the air, the bass making your heart thrum in your chest.

Dina suddenly leaned over to you and whispered, "hey, I'm gonna go get some weed, wanna come with?" You shrugged and nodded, secretly relieved for a chance to get away from the overwhelming party energy. 

As you both made your way to her dealer—Ellie, Dina introduced you. "Ellie heyyy, this is my friend-" and before she could even finish her sentence: "No no I know who she is." She responded quickly. "Hi." You said awkwardly. Ellie smiled at you and then turned back to Dina. "Soooo what's up.." Ellie asked Dina.

 "We need some weed. Hook us up, please?" Ellie gave you a friendly smile and when you smiled back at her she choked on her spit."uh yeah yeah sure—Let's get you sorted." She said avoiding eye contact with you.

Dina and you followed her to a secluded corner near a makeshift bar, where Ellie discreetly pulled out a small bag of weed from her pocket. "Here you go," she said, handing it to Dina with a casual wave. You noticed her stealing glances at you as she spoke, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of attraction.

As Dina paid for the weed and left to get some drinks, you mustered up the courage to strike a conversation with Ellie. "So, you're the infamous weed dealer around here, hm?" you said playfully. Ellie chuckled and looked at you, a hint of shyness in her eyes.

"Guilty as charged." She replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Dina returned with the drinks and the three of you find solace on a cozy patio behind the bustling party. Ellie takes out a joint and lights it up with expert ease. The smoke swirls around you, filling the air with a musky yet sweet fragrance. As if by unspoken agreement, Ellie offers the joint to you first. You accept it gracefully, taking in the rich scent before taking a small drag and passing it to Dina.

As you pass around the joint, each of you taking turns to inhale and exhale, the tension between you and Ellie seems to ease. The weed adds a hazy yet enjoyable layer to the conversation, making even the simplest topics feel profound.

Ellie takes a hit and turns to you in between coughs, a cheeky grin playing on her lips. "So, what brings you to a party when you're sick, anyway?"

You chuckle, the weed making the memory of your illness feel distant and forgettable. "Dina dragged me here, actually. Said I should get out of my self-imposed exile." You glance at Dina, who nods enthusiastically, a grin plastered on her face.

Ellie takes another puff, her eyes gleaming with laughter. "Well, I for one am glad she did. I mean, look at us enjoying ourselves, weed and all."

The conversation flows effortlessly as you and Ellie exchange stories, each topic leading to another in a chain of stoner introspection.

As the joint makes its way round again, you and Ellie start to lose track of time. The weed has its full effects on you now, turning everything into a fuzzy, comfortable haze. Laughing and sharing stories, the conversation flows like a never-ending river. You notice Dina nodding off beside you, her eyes heavy with intoxication.

Suddenly, Ellie's fingers brushed against yours, sending tingles through your whole body. You look at her and share a smile. Maybe this party wasn't such a bad idea afterall.

"Hey, you alright?" Ellie asks as she notices your glazed eyes and slow speech. "You look absolutely baked."

You manage a lazy smile and a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling really damn relaxed. This weed is strong."

Ellie chuckles. "Well, it's not called weed because it makes you feel uptight."

You giggle, feeling a sudden wave of affection for her. It's as if the weed has lowered all your inhibitions, leaving only the raw, genuine emotions.

Dina stands up and stumbles a little, the mix of drinks and weed making her dizzy. "I think I'm gonna head home," she says, her words slightly slurred. "This weed has me feeling a bit too high."

You nod, understanding. "Be careful on your way home, alright?"

Dina waves a weak goodbye as she leaves to get an Uber. Now it's just you and Ellie, alone in the hazy aftermath of the joint.

You watch as Dina disappears into the night, then turn your attention back to Ellie. As if reading your mind, she suggests, "Wanna head back inside?"

You agree, and the two of you make your way back inside the party. The music is loud and throbbing, and the lights have turned into a dizzying, colorful display. You find a cozy couch and settle down, the weed still clinging to your senses.

You lean back into the cushions, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric against your skin. The buzz of the party fades into the background as you focus your attention on Ellie next to you. The world seems to slow down, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you there, trapped in a private bubble.

"So," Ellie says, breaking the silence, "how long did it take Dina to convince you to actually come out tonight?"

You laugh softly, the memory floating to the forefront of your mind. "Oh, she started pleading about a week ago. She's been on my case for days, saying I've been living like a hermit."

Ellie grins, chuckling softly. "Yeah, sounds like Dina. She really doesn't want you to become a recluse." She pauses, seeming to choose her words carefully. "You know, I'm glad she did manage to drag you out tonight. Otherwise, I might not have gotten the chance to meet you."

For a brief moment, silence blankets the air between you. The world outside of the couch fades into insignificance. All you can focus on is Ellie, her eyes locked with yours. 

You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

And then, without a word, you lean in, your lips meeting hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss.

You pull away from Ellie, your heart racing as you gaze into her oh so beautiful eyes. 

A soft smile lingers on her lips as she breaks the silence. "We should probably head somewhere more private." She gestures towards a dimly lit corridor that leads to various rooms beyond the party hubbub.

Without a second thought, you nod enthusiastically, taking her hand and leading her towards the door closest to them. Inside, shadows envelope every corner with only moonlight seeping through the barely-there curtains casting eerie patterns on the walls. The cool air in here contrasts nicely with the warmth of Ellie's body pressed against yours; making everything feel intensely personal and intimate. 

Her scent fills your senses while you deepen their kisses; tangled hands carding softly through each other's hair. 

As you continue to kiss passionately, your hands start to wander; undoing each other's buttons and zips with eager fingers. Soon enough, clothes are discarded in a messy pile on the floor as you stand there—your bodies exposed and vulnerable before one another. 

Your eyes never leave each other's as Ellie reaches behind her back, unfastening the clasp of her belt. A soft chuckle escapes her lips when she sees the surprise etched across your face at what she reveals next: a strap on harness tucked under her pants all along.

Ellie grins, stepping closer and running her fingertips along the curves of your hips. "Wanted to catch you off guard." She teases gently. 

With a sudden movement, she slips out of her harness; revealing a thick dildo nestled between her legs. Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she beckons you forward with an inviting finger. 

Ellie runs her fingers through your hair, pressing down on your head just enough to guide you closer until your lips brush against the silky surface of her dick. "Get down," she murmurs huskily, her breath hot against your cheek. You obey without hesitation, leaning forward eagerly; closing your eyes as you take the dildo into your mouth. She moans softly at the sight and feeling of it; running her hands through your hair while slowly rocking her hips—pushing herself deeper into your waiting throat.

Your tongue swirls around the head of her dildo, teasing and flicking it with a tantalizing rhythm. Ellie's moans grow louder, becoming more urgent as you take pleasure in exploring every inch of her toy; making it glisten with your saliva. 

She begins to move faster, thrusting harder against your mouth—her hands tightening their grip on your hair. You can feel the tension building within her, each deep push bringing them closer to release.

As Ellie begins to move in time with your movements, the strap of her harness rubs against her sensitive clit with each thrust. 

The sensation sends a wave of pleasure coursing through her body; pushing her closer and closer towards climax. 

Her breath hitches in your ear as she whispers, "Suck harder." You comply without hesitation, increasing the suction and using your tongue to tease every inch of the silky shaft before you. 

Your actions have an immediate effect on Ellie; moans growing louder and more urgent as she nears release. With one final surge forward, she shudders violently—her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave while you continue to suck eagerly; savoring every drop of her sweet essence that seeps from between your lips.

Once Ellie's climax subsides, she gently pulls you away from her cock; guiding you to your feet. Her eyes glow with desire as she moves towards the headboard of the bed, sitting down and positioning herself for what comes next. "Get on top," she commands in a sultry voice that sets your pulse racing. You obey eagerly, straddling her lap; feeling the cool air against your wet folds before slowly lowering yourself onto her waiting dick. The sensation is intense but pleasurable—your body adjusting to accommodate its thickness and length within you.

Ellie's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you adjust to the size of her strap-on. Her voice is low and rough with desire when she speaks, "you love this u dirty slut..being filled by my dick hm? don't you?" She pumps gently into you—each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan softly in response; lost in a haze of lustful submission. "Say it," she commands again, her tone more insistent now. 

"Tell me how much you want this cock."You gasp for breath as words tumble from your lips, fueled by the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your body. 

"I need this... I want your dick so-so bad.." Your voice is barely above a whisper; full of longing and degradation that only heightens their passion even further.

Ellie growls deep in her throat; loving the sound of your surrender. 

She begins to pick up speed, pounding into you harder with every thrust. Her hand snakes between your legs—playing with your clit while she ravages you.  "such a whore," she breathes out, her eyes locked on yours as he drives deeper into you.

 "A dirty cum-slut who needs my cock hm isn't that right?.. " The taboo words fuel the fire within both of you; making it impossible to hold back any longer.

Your body shudders as pleasure rushes through you; waves of bliss crashing over you like a tsunami. Ellie feels your muscles clamping down tightly around her dick, knowing that it's only a matter of seconds before she pushes you over the edge. She groans loudly—her own release close at hand as she continues to pound into your wet core.

"Cum for me," Ellie demands, her voice thick with desire. "Let me see you come on my cock." The words are like a match to gasoline—your body exploding in ecstasy as you shatter into pieces; waves of pleasure washing over you in an unstoppable tide. 

You scream out her name, your muscles clenching tightly around her strap-on as she pushes you further and further towards the brink of blissful oblivion.In the aftermath of your orgasm, Ellie slowly pulls out of you; leaving a trail of slickness behind as she stands up from the bed. 

She reaches down to help steady yourself before drawing you close into a tender embrace.

As you catch your breath in Ellie's arms, she gently pushes you away; guiding you down between her thighs. You eagerly bury your face against her wet folds, savoring the sweet taste of her arousal as you settle in for what comes next. 

Your fingers slip inside her while your tongue begins to dance around her clit—your actions making Ellie moan loudly and clutch at the sheets. "More," she whispers hoarsely—her body begging for relief from the intense sensations that are building deep within.

You lose yourself in the sensation of Ellie's heat and sweetness around your fingers, her flavors intensifying with each passing moment. Her breath hitches as she edges closer to release—your tongue tracing circles around her swollen clit while you pump your fingers inside her. It's not long before she lets out a loud moan, her body shaking with pleasure as she comes undone on your face.

You lose yourself in Ellie's warmth and flavor as you feast on her sweet pussy. One hand gripping her ass for better leverage, the other buried deep inside her wet folds. Her body trembles beneath you, nearing a climax that's been simmering just beneath the surface. She whimpers loudly, her legs wrapping around your head; holding you tight against her core.

You keep going at it, licking and fingering her like a woman possessed. Her moans get louder, and she's grinding against your face pretty hard now. You can feel her getting close, and you don't want to stop until she screams your name in pleasure. Your fingers move faster inside her while your tongue does its dance on her clit; making sure she feels every inch of attention you're giving her sweet pussy.

It doesn't take much longer now. Ellie's breathing turns erratic, and her body stiffens as waves of pleasure crash over her. You feel her pussy clamping down around your fingers, and she screams your name; flooding your mouth with her cum while you lap it up hungrily.

As Ellie comes down from her orgasm, she pulls you away gently; your mouth filled with her essence. She kisses you deeply—her fingers entwined with yours as she tastes herself on your lips. "God, that was amazing," she murmurs against your skin before running a tender caress down your cheek.

Ellie slowly sinks down between your thighs—her fingers running lightly along your swollen lips before dipping inside to clean you up. You shiver at her touch; lost in the pleasure of her soft tongue tracing every curve, gathering remnants of your cum and spreading them around for her to suck on. It doesn't take long before you're completely clean and she pulls away from you, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

You cling to the sheets as she continues her tender torment, moaning loudly with each flick of her tongue against your sensitive bud. Her fingers intertwine with yours; pulling you closer until it's impossible to hold back any longer.

Ellie finally draws back; her lips swollen and wet from your taste. She kisses you softly, one hand trailing up to stroke your hair lovingly before she reaches over for a damp cloth. She gently cleans the remaining traces of cum from between your legs—her touch tender yet thorough.

Once you're clean, she presses a kiss to your inner thigh—her hands running soothingly over your body as she gazes up at you adoringly. "So beautiful," she murmurs softly before pulling you close for another embrace. Her soft lips brush against yours in a gentle caress that leaves you breathless; savoring the sweetness of her smile as happiness fills the air around you.

im so bad at endings ahahsjsj buttttt i hope u guys enjoy thissss 😁😁😆😆