#didn’t take of his hood head hunched
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Dark days for Dion…
#jermery and Roxana drew in on him when he was asleep and sick#it didn’t come off for a week#didn’t take of his hood head hunched#little idiot#roxana#manwha#roxana agrece#dion agrece#jeremy agriche#how to protect the heroine's older brother#art#anime art
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♡ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.
warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms
a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol
wc: 4.8k
“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.
if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.
you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.
rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.
“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.
swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.
apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?
night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.
he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.
he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.
slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.
with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.
your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.
“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.
“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.
rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.
you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.
pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.
do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.
once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.
you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”
rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.
you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.
just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.
“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”
rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.
“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.
you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”
you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.
“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.
“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.
“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.
rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”
you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.
“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.
“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.
“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.
“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.
rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.
“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”
cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.
“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.
"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”
you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.
you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”
your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.
“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ cowboy!rafe#₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe outer banks#obx#rafe obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine
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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔
summary: your boyfriend undoubtedly loves you very much but some positions just get him going unlike any other
pairings: bachira :: nagi :: chigiri :: kaiser :: sae :: rin :: reo x fem! reader (all characters are aged up!!)
warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, i’ll put individual warnings on each part to not flood this intro but i’d say there’s a tendency for dom! character (overall pretty tame though), pet names, cursing
this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!
blue lock masterlist
♛ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
tw: creampies, slight hair pulling (f! receiving), manhandling, implied multiple rounds
Bachira is insatiable, to say the least. Chances are his stamina outlasts yours by a longshot. And he’s so absolutely enamoured with you, his favourite position is whichever one he currently has you in. Although there are some you find yourself in more often than others: namely riding him, which almost always turns into him lifting you up by the hips and slamming you back down on him; being nearly folded in half as his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs and Bachira presses you into the mattress with his weight alone; and burying your face into the pillow as he holds you up by the hips, one hand tangling in your hair. Absolutely has bent you over every piece of furniture in your home before, he’s a monster in his own right…
Fingers were dancing up your spine and pressing you down further into the cushions, accompanied by playful laughter that absolutely didn’t match Bachira’s ruthless thrusts which had you gripping onto the armrest of the couch harder. How did you get here again? Your boyfriend came home from practice… and next thing you knew he was rearranging your guts.
“Ah, Meguru… ‘s too deep, I can’t–” you panted, breathless from the effort of trying to keep up with the man behind you. Seriously, shouldn't he be tired after running around all day? Where did he take all that energy from?
“What was that? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear you over the sounds of your wet pussy.” You could practically see his smirk without even having to crane your head around. The hand on your back tangled into your hair, your body bowing as he slightly raised your head, creating a new angle for him to drive his cock into you, his balls smacking against your sensitive folds. “You want me to go deeper, ‘s that it?”
You loved this, you loved this a little too much perhaps. Whenever Bachira bent your body to his liking, almost using you however he pleased, it always left you with your thighs shaking and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. If you ever had to admit it, you might die of shame but with your walls clamping down on his cock and Bachira’s snigger ringing through the room, you had the hunch he already knew.
With his fingers leaving your hair, you fell forwards again but only momentarily before being pulled up entirely by his hand resting on your collarbones to meet his bare chest. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen against your sweat-slicked back, the way they contracted with every thrust upwards. Everytime he pulled you back down to meet him, a firm smack echoed around the room as his strong thighs collided with yours.
“Talk to me, baby, you know I like hearing your pretty voice,” Bachira said, giving a particularly nasty snap and forcing a sharp gasp of his name from you, “especially when you sing my name like that~”
“I’m almost there, Meguru, just hngh–”
“Me too… You can make both of us cum, right? Bet you’d like it if I did this,” your boyfriend huffed, finally showing at least a little bit of strain as he neared his release. The hand on your hip wandered to your core, his index finger pulling up the hood of your clit. When his middle finger put pressure onto the bare tip of the nub, it sent a bolt of electricity racing up your spine, making you straighten in the striker’s hold. Throwing your head back onto his shoulder you let your moans spill freely while digging your fingers into the flesh of his thigh, the other coming to rest over his on your chest. You felt the needy twitch of his cock inside of you as he groaned curses into the skin of your neck. “Shit, you’re making it pretty fucking hard to move when you clench down on me like that.”
Bachira gave a few thrusts before his hips stuttered and he pressed as far into you as he could go as warmth started to flood you and fill you up. The combination of him stuffing you full, his low moans and the practised flicks on your clit sent you straight into your high as well, cunt creaming around him as Bachira moved both hands down to your waist to stop you from trying to run from the overwhelming pleasure.
For a few minutes, your shared panting was all that could be heard as Bachira lazily moved you up and down to ride out both your highs. You were absolutely putty in his arms, more so than before, as he carefully guided your chest to meet the couch again, all the while staying glued to your body. With his weight on top of you and his cum leaking out of you, that was when you realised: he was still hard.
“You always feel so good when you make a mess all over me.” Bachira gently uncurled his and your arms from your tangled bodies, bringing them down on the cushions so he could lay his hands on top of yours and intertwine your fingers.
“Let me give you another one, yeah?~”
♛ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎
tw: cockwarming, creampies, implied exibihitionism/ voyeurism (kinda?), mentions of face-sitting, size kink /difference if you squint hard enough
Nagi is a fan of all things low-effort, not exerting himself when he sees no reason to. So why bother exhausting himself when he’s perfectly capable of making you a mess on top of him? Whether that means having you sit on his face as he eats you out ‘til your thighs are shaking on either side of his head and your hand losing its grip on the headboard or letting you ride him ‘til your legs give out and you breathlessly beg him to take over. That isn’t to say he doesn’t ever take the initiative; you can kiss your ability to walk goodbye whenever that happens though…
You loved watching your boyfriend play games. Not necessarily because of what was happening on the screen but much rather because more often than not you got to sit there for hours on end with Nagi’s thick cock nestled snugly inside of you, clad in nothing but one of his oversized shirts.
Sure, having to hold still when he was rubbing against all your weakest spots so deliciously could be considered a form of torture specifically designed for you but at the same time you felt too full to complain. Instead you merely rolled your head back onto his shoulder, bleary eyes blinking open every now and then when the mindless noises from the game sounded somewhat interesting.
Whatever he was playing didn’t seem to cooperate with him though, curses pushed through gritted teeth giving away to his frustrations. Hearing his deep groan upon having to restart the level again set off a chain event as your walls fluttered around him and you ground yourself down harder in desperate search for some friction. In return, Nagi’s hips thrust up instinctively before tightly clutching your hips to halt your movements. “Not yet, angel. Still need to beat this stupid boss…”
“Sei…” Reaching back to wind your hand into his snowy strands, you lightly raked your fingernails over his scalp and tugged his roots, which earned you a heavenly moan from your boyfriend. “Why don’t you take a break? Maybe you can focus on it better afterwards.”
“Yeah, you gonna help me relax, pretty thing?” Nagi was nosing down the back of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your nape as his large palms wandered under your shirt, cupping your boobs and kneading them between his fingers. You merely responded by arching into his touch and rolling your hips down on him again, accompanied by a quiet whine for him to do something, anything. “Fuck, you’re so good to me.”
Guiding your legs to rest over the armrests of his gaming chair, Nagi ran an experimental hand down to your folds, swiping through your arousal and giving your clit a quick swipe of his thumb. The short contact was enough to have you buck into his touch, a whine for more escaping your throat as you shuddered in your boyfriend’s embrace.
“Sei… Please fuck me, I need you so bad, please.”
“Eh, I guess it’s only fair. Been so patient with me, hm?” His big hands were lifting you up by the hips, pulling you off of him almost entirely before sinking you back down, slowly building a steady pace that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head with how deep he was hitting. Nagi brought you to the peak of pleasure so quickly, you weren’t even embarrassed anymore at how eagerly you were clamping down on him.
“Shit, I’m so close, baby, don’t stop,” you panted, breath hot against the side of his neck. One of his hands left your hip only to reappear on your clit, deft fingers drawing firm circles on the little bud, boneless in his grip as he kept bouncing you on his cock. The lewd squelching of your pussy combined with Nagi’s grunts and the slapping of skin against skin had you hurtling toward your high at a dizzying speed. “‘S too much, I can’t–”
“You can and you will, pretty thing,” he huffed as your nails dug into the skin of his wrists. “Almost there, too… Let’s cum together, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?”
Apparently that was all it took for you to come undone, your walls milking him for all he was worth as he held you tightly against himself as you tried to wind out of his arms. Tilting your head up, Nagi connected your lips in a messy kiss, one you tried your best to reciprocate, swallowing down all the moans bleeding out of you. With a few shallow thrusts upwards, his hips stuttered as his balls clenched and warmth flooded you.
For the next couple of minutes, you both just sat there, trying to catch your breath as his cum leaked from your hole despite his cock still stuffing you. Gently massaging your sore spots, Nagi peppered light kisses all over your temple and cheeks as you simply gazed at him in bliss.
The peaceful atmosphere was broken however when the sound of an incoming discord call rang through the room. Looking at the screen you could vaguely make out Reo’s name before the cursor hovered over the ‘accept’ button, Nagi’s dick twitching back to life.
“Wanna play a game, angel?”
♛ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐀
tw: oral (f! receiving), hair pulling (m!receiving), oral (m! receiving) implied
Any position in which you can pull on Chigiri’s cherry red locks is a good position in his eyes. Be that tangling your fingers in the strands at his nape while he gazes down on you oh so sweetly in missionary or reaching your hand back to find something to hold on to and ground yourself as he angles his hips deeper into you with your back pressed to his chest. If he had to pick a favourite, however, it would be how you grasp desperately at his hair to pull him where you need him most when he goes down on you…
His shoulders nudged your legs apart further as Chigiri settled between them, at the same time smoothing his hands up the back of your legs to push them up with him. You could feel the adrenaline pulsing through you, shifting along the mattress as his bright eyes drank in the sight in front of him. He watched intensely as your glistening pussy clenched around nothing in anticipation, slick leaking from your slit.
“Don’t you look delicious, sweetheart?” His soft voice drifted to your ears as the pad of his fingers gathered your arousal. Holding them up for you to see, the webbing between the digits was clearly visible in the dim light as he spread them. “All for me, hmm? Are you this wet just because of me?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, one hand cupping his cheek as Chigiri propped himself up. “It’s only ever because of you.”
His pillowy lips broke into a grin as he feathered kisses from your knee up your inner thigh, guiding your legs to rest over his shoulders and frame his beautiful face in the same motion. “You really do know what a man likes to hear.”
“It’s the truth though, nobody’s ever made me feel this way before. In any aspect of life,” you whispered, searching for his hand on the mattress to intertwine yours with it.
You gladly pushed your torso forward to meet your boyfriend halfway as he pressed his lips to yours. Carding your fingers through the strands behind his ear, you scraped your nails across his scalp, making him moan into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. Tongues tangling together and spit dribbling down your chin, you had to break the contact to catch your breaths, Chigiri’s panting heating up the crook of your neck.
Hungry red eyes bored into yours as he swiped some of your mixed saliva from the corner of your lips. “Please let me show you how much hearing that means to me. You’ll let me make you feel good, right angel?”
Chigiri could feel the vibrations of your hum against his lips as he slowly kissed his way back down your body. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you close to him as he took his previous spot between your legs, breath fanning your sensitive folds.
You gripped his hand harder as he gave the first experimental lick up the length of your pussy, thoroughly riled up from his treatment beforehand. Groaning as you slick coated his flattened tongue, your boyfriend pressed his hips into the mattress, searching for friction to relieve the bulge straining against his sweats.
“Ah shit, you taste so sweet, how’s it always so good?” Chigiri said, voice muffled by your core and sending sparks straight through you. He watched with rapt attention as your back bowed off the bed when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked firmly.
More slick poured from you and coated the lower half of his face as he pried your folds apart with his wet muscle just to hear your beautiful whimpers, which doubled in volume as he sunk his tongue into you. There was no denying how much you desired this, desired him, as you immediately clenched around the intrusion.
But you wanted -needed- more of him. With a dazed sigh of his name, your fingers tangled in his fiery strands and tugged him further into your heat. Mindlessly rutting against the bed at the sting on his scalp, more angelic groans spilled directly into you as Chigiri’s long lashes fluttered shut. The position he currently had you in, allowed his nose to rub against your bundle of nerves with every movement and it had your thighs clasping around the sides of his face, threatening to suffocate him.
The striker didn’t even seem fazed by it, in fact, his actions became more enthusiastic, driven by the goal to bring you to the peak of pleasure. And he knew you were almost there as your hips bucked upwards, trying to grind against him with his hair still secure in your fist.
By the time the coil in your stomach unravelled, there was no way the two of you could physically be any closer, even though you tried your hardest as you pressed your heels into his shoulder blades and curled your toes. Spurred on by the high-pitched whines and whimpers escaping you as your movements stuttered, Chigiri lapped up every single drop of cum you offered, completely drunk on your taste.
Swallowing heavily as your boyfriend gently set your legs down on the mattress again, massaging your calves as he did, you gave him a breathless smile. Sitting on his knees, he cast one last glance at your glossy pussy, glistening with a mixture of your release and his spit. The sight made his dick twitch with need as he licked his lips, which were stained with you.
Crawling back up your body, Chigiri carefully sunk down in order not to crush you under his weight as you wrapped one arm around his neck while the other travelled down the planes of his back.
“Did that feel good?” he asked, cherry eyes searching your own for any sort of discomfort as he trailed his palm up and down your side without any sort of direction. “Could I deliver my message well?”
“You did amazing as always, Hyoma,” you grinned, watching as his eyes widened and his hips jerked forward when your fingers dipped into his sweats and cupped his bulge through his boxers. “You’ll allow me to return the favour, won’t you pretty boy?”
♛ 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋
tw: oral (m! receiving), deep throating, kaiser is a little mean, slight dacryphilia, sir kink (once)
Kaiser is a sadist and frankly… a bit of an asshole. He’ll coo at you when heat spreads through you out of embarrassment and gets off on seeing tears of pleasure, overstimulation or frustration stain your face. Having you completely spread in front of a mirror as he toys with you really gets him going. Not only does he get to see all of you, no, he can also make you watch yourself unravel for him and only him. It’s a sight that can only be matched by you on your knees between his legs, worshipping him like a king…
“You like this, don’t you?” Kaiser was smirking down at you, his tone mocking but he was right. You hated how his taunts made your stomach churn with want and your panties soak with your own arousal. “Oh, forgot you can’t talk with my dick down your throat. Apologies, princess.”
A whimper escaped you as he pulled you off of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glossy tip. Mascara was running down your cheeks and your lipstick was smeared across your lips, stains of the same shade wrapping around his cock, all the way down to the base; you looked so fucked out already and Kaiser was living for it. “Go on now, tell me how much you like this.”
“Yes, Mi-“ a tug at your hair cut you off. When you looked up to meet his eyes, you shivered at the chilly raise of his brow. “Y-Yes Sir, love it. Love it so much.”
“That’s a good girl. Now put your money where your mouth is.” Sliding his hand down to hold your chin between his fingers, he tapped his cock head against your lips, the salty taste of his precum hitting your taste buds. “Come on, open up for me, princess.”
You flicked your eyes from his dick back up to his as you opened your mouth again, tongue lolling out as you took in his form looming over you. His lips curled up at the corners to see you so obedient for him. Sinking into your warmth again, Kaiser huffed out a groan as he held you still, going slow until your lips stretched around the base of his cock. With your nose pressing against his trimmed pubes, tears welling in your eyes as the breaths from your nose fanned against his skin, he held you there for a little, indulging in the clenching of your tight throat around his tip as you tried not to gag.
But that was as far as your boyfriend was willing to test his patience that day. The way your tongue ran against the sensitive vein on the underside of his heavy shaft had his balls tightening as he tried to starve off his release as long as possible. As his hips jerked forward the first time on their own, he took it as his cue to start thrusting.
Your eyes screwed shut and you had to dig your nails into the muscles of his thighs, not caring at all whether his shorts would cover the marks the next day, as his tip hit the back of your throat over and over. Saliva pooled on your tongue, spilled over your lips, dribbled down your chin and onto your chest. The lewd sight had his abs contracting as his cock twitched against your pink muscle.
Pushing his bangs out of his face before bringing his palm from your chin to the back of your head as he leaned back on the hand propping him up on the bed, Kaiser pushed you down on him completely once again as his musky scent invaded your senses. You rubbed your thighs together to relieve some of the tension as you took in the light shining onto the slight sheen of sweat coating his skin, his hair messed up from running his fingers through it, looking downright ethereal.
“Look at me while you swallow everything I give you, princess,” he gritted out as he shallowly ground his pelvis into you until his hips stuttered. With your teary eyes fixed on his again, he let a guttural groan slip from his lips as he tipped his head back and ropes of hot cum shot down your throat. “Don’t waste a single drop, got it?”
Letting you pull off his dick, he closely watched the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. He scooped up a drop that escaped the corner of your lips with his thumb and pushed it back into your mouth, smirking as you diligently sucked the digit clean.
“As much as I love seeing you on your knees, I think you earned yourself a reward. Come here, pretty,” he said, holding out his hand for you and pulling you up to stand between his legs, sniggering when you lightly stumbled as you stretched your legs again. Pushing your hair out of your face he gave you a sweet peck before turning you around and guiding you down until you sat between his spread thighs with your back to his chest.
As he trailed kisses from the back of your hand all the way to your shoulder blade and hooked your knees over his muscles, you finally understood what Kaiser was playing at when you raised your head and met his half-lidded gaze in the floor-length mirror across from you.
Your cheeks flared with heat as your eyes flitted across your exposed form, the wet spot on your underwear clearly visible to the both of you, as you tried to close your legs in shame only to be stopped by a large palm.
“Why so shy all of a sudden? I just want you to see how gorgeous you look when I make you cum, so keep your pretty eyes on that mirror,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your panties. “After all, a princess is meant to be shown off, wouldn’t you agree?”
♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐄
tw: mean dom! sae, blindfolds, edging, implied overstimulation, fingering (f! receiving), name calling (slut), slight degradation, mentions of dacryphilia
Sae loves reducing you to a whimpering mess before he even thinks about fucking you deep into the mattress, his cerulean gaze sharp and almost painfully neutral. His favourite way of achieving just that has to be fingering you for what feels like hours. Not only is he stretching you nicely to take all he gives you later on, it also allows him to run that mean mouth of his. Whether he’s edging you mercilessly or making you cum so often you barely remember your own name is a gamble though…
The room was positively spinning, you felt like falling despite being propped up against the pillows on your bed. Sweat slicked up your skin as you dug your fingernails into your palms, certain that half-moons would be visible even the next day.
“Sae, no more, please. I’m sorry,” you sobbed, voice hoarse from pleading with your boyfriend for what felt like hours. With the blindfold covering your eyes you couldn’t see the way Sae’s lips tugged up at the corners as he took in your messy hair and the tear tracks visible even with the black fabric wrapped around your head. Your thighs were coated with your own slick as Sae had brought you to the brink of an orgasm more times than you wanted to count before cruelly ripping it away from you again.
“Are you? I’m not so sure,” his voice was painfully neutral as he circled your puffy folds again, lazily running his fingers over your slit but not with enough pressure to actually satisfy you. Against your better judgement, your hips twitched up to chase his touch which only made him pull away entirely with a tut. “After all, I made it pretty clear you shouldn’t touch yourself while I was still at work and yet, what do I find when I come home? My pretty little girlfriend with her fingers stuffed in her messy cunt.”
The harsh tug at your nipple ripped a groan from you. You felt his hand trace down from the valley between your breasts, over your stomach leaving a featherlight trail of goosebumps in its wake, Sae softly humming as you shuddered. His other hand smoothed up your thigh, the simple action alone tightening the coil in your stomach again, too sensitive from your ruined orgasms. It settled at your hips, rubbing small circles into the bone, an unspoken apology for what was about to happen next.
You threw your head back into the pillows with a strangled moan as he pressed two fingers onto your throbbing clit, hurtling you down the path to another high he’d possibly take away from you again. Your babbling from before started once more, begging him to finally let you cum.
“Aren’t you enjoying your punishment a little too much, you little slut? I mean, look at you,” he chided. With his thumb continuing to press down on your twitching nub, his middle and ring finger met no resistance as he thrust them into your drenched cunt. Sae knew your body like the back of his hand, so he had absolutely no trouble finding the spot that made your knees jerk up against your will. “You want to cum, is that it? Do you think you deserve it?”
“Yes Sae, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Please I won’t do it again, please.” If you could hear anything over the blood rushing through your ears, your whimpers would seem pathetic even to you. But right now, the only thing on your mind was your boyfriend’s fingers rhythmically pushing in and out of your pussy with a wet squelch as you gripped the sheets as if your life depended on it.
“Hmm, I guess you’ve behaved well enough, even kept your hands to yourself,” he mused, his tone still cool but his movements didn’t stop. “Go on and make a mess then before I rethink my decision again.”
A constant string of ‘thank you’s tumbled from your lips as you finally fell over the edge of pleasure, Sae keeping his thrusts steady even as your walls clamped down on him furiously and white hot fire set your whole body ablaze.
As you gradually came down from your high, panting to fill your lungs with much needed air, two fingers slipped under the material covering your eyes and gently pulled it off of you. You blinked your bleary eyes open at the sensation of soft lips pressing against your temple. But your attention was soon drawn to the light tap of his cock head against your clit which had you whimpering, no idea when Sae had undressed.
“What’s wrong? You said you wanted to cum right? I’m just giving my slut what she wants.”
♛ 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍
tw: size kink, implied multiple rounds, light marking
It has become somewhat of a routine for the two of you to shower together. While it doesn’t always end up in shower sex, Rin comes home pent-up from practice often enough and who are you to deny him (and yourself) the pleasure of sudsy hands roaming your body, feeling you up and kneading at your soft curves before he inevitably presses you into the cool shower tiles? Although, some nights, you find yourself in the shower again only a few hours later to wash away the remnants of the following round(s)...
Steam curled around your body, rising from your skin and fogging the bathroom mirror. But the water was nothing against the heat pooling in your stomach, your soft moans drowned out by the splashing of the drops. To the man behind you, they were still clearly audible though, his chest pressed firmly against your back as his hands roamed every inch of your skin.
Rin held you up with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he ground his hard cock between your ass cheeks with a low grunt. “I missed you today. So much.”
“I missed you too, baby,” you crooned, leaning your full weight into him. The wandering of his hands came to a halt, fingers running over your slit. “Fuck, Rin, I need you, please fill me up.”
“Are you sure, love? Let me prep you at least a little–”
“I can take it,” you cut him off, grinding back against him. “Just– Just go slow.”
“If that’s what you want. Tell me if it hurts, yeah?” Trapping one of your hands against the shower wall, he intertwined his long fingers with yours as well as he could. The arm that previously held you steady now grabbed onto your hips, pulling them back to slightly bend you over. Stuffing his cock between your legs to coat himself in your arousal, his light thrusts through your folds had his cockhead catch your clit with every movement. “Ready?”
You barely managed to squeak out the words before you already felt him prod at your core. Even just the mushroom-headed tip stretched you so well, you parted your lips in a silent scream, head hanging low as you focused on standing upright. Inch by inch, Rin continued to sink into you and you could feel every vein drag against your walls agonisingly slow. When he grazed past your sweet spot, you offered a small sob as you clenched down on him.
“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispered against your shoulder, peppering conciliatory kisses along your skin, sucking a bruise into the juncture of your neck before moving up towards your jaw. “You’re always so good to me, aren’t you?”
By the time his hips were finally snug against your ass, you swore you could feel him in your lungs. Letting go of your hips, his hand came around to press down on the bulge in your stomach, feeling himself nestled inside of you so deeply. Then, he dipped your head back to connect your lips, the initially sweet kiss growing messier until you started whining into his mouth to finally move.
Rin wasted no time giving you what you wanted, revelling in the way you arched back into him as he slowly dragged out of you, groaning as your pussy didn’t want to let go of him. Building up to a steady pace, it didn’t take long for your legs to wobble slightly. He pulled you tightly against him, using his palm against your boob as leverage for his thrusts.
“Ah~ Rin, ‘s too much, you’re too big.” Your moans bounced off the walls, breathless as you clung to his arm. “Keep going, don’t stop!”
“Saying it’s too much and then whining for more? Can’t make up your mind, huh? Let me decide for you, then,” your boyfriend grunted. Gripping the back of your knee, he folded it up to your chest, spreading you open wide to angle his hips better, deeper, into your cunt. Pinching your nipple between his fingers as he reached around you to play with your clit. “At least your cunt knows what she wants, clamping down on me so damn tightly… you’re close aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, god Rin, yes. Please make me cum!” you nearly yelled. “Only you– Fuck, only you can make me feel this good.”
“That’s right, now show me how good you look cumming on my cock.” His words were searing against your neck as you crumbled underneath him. You quivered in his arms as he shushed you, gently setting your knee back down and running the flat of palms down your sides. When you had stopped grinding back into him in a post-orgasmic haze, Rin pulled out and spun you around.
Hoisting you up with his hands grabbing at the fat of your ass, the striker caged you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Cradling the back of your head in his large palm, he took in your fucked out expression with half-lidded eyes before stealing all air from your lungs again in a hungry kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entry which you gladly granted. Tangling your tongues together, it still wasn’t enough to distract you from the way he lined himself up with your cunt again.
“Gorgeous as always,” he mumbled against your lips, cerulean eyes focused solely on you. “You can do that again for me, right? Want you to cum with me this time.”
♛ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐎
tw: switch! reo, soft dom! reo, lingerie, bondage, face-sitting, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), light marking, praise, pet names, mentions of exhibitionism
Reo and you are on equal playing grounds both in and outside the bedroom. Taking turns teasing each other, riling the other up until they can’t take it anymore, that’s what makes being with Reo fun. You never know what to expect when you get intimate with him; will you watch as you order him to get himself off before you even think about touching him or will Reo have your nude form pressed against the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse? Perhaps neither of you will take control as you exchange slow caresses, drunk on the taste of each other? As always, Reo does it all and he does it so perfectly…
“Don’t you look gorgeous, baby?” Lithe fingers danced across the red silk binding your thighs together, experimentally hooking his index and middle finger under the material, effectively pulling your exposed core closer to his face.
The plan for this night had been to tease him, the pretty lingerie you had put on especially for that sake lying discarded somewhere between the door and bed. Reo had apparently had a similar incentive this time around, not willing to hand over the reins so readily and the flimsy material you wore only spurred him on as he produced the red bindings from behind his back.
In his defence, you didn’t put up much of a fight as he crowded you against the bed, his large hands running up your spine to unclasp the lacey bra. As he slid the straps off your shoulders, his mouth busied itself by sucking blooming purple marks against your skin while you felt up the muscles underneath his shirt. The second his hands were free, one of them clasped both your wrists behind your back before loosely wrapping the silk around them.
“This okay, bunny?” he whispered against the shell of your ear and, frankly, the speed at which you nodded should have been embarrassing but you were way too curious to find out where this was going. The striker chuckled at your eager response, fastening the glossy red against your skin. “Aren’t you just the cutest? Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”
That was how you found yourself with your knees on either side of Reo’s head, quivering from both the effort to keep yourself upright and his tongue flicking continuously against your clit. You could feel the slick leaking out of you, pooling on the lower half of your boyfriend’s face as his fingers diligently worked you up to your orgasm. Curling his digits into you, he was searching for that one spot that always had you seeing stars and when he found it, you rocked your hips forward with a needy whine, trying to grind down on him to the best of your abilities.
With glossy eyes, you watched as Reo’s crinkled in amusement at your desperation, deliberately pressing into your sweet spot over and over to see you fall apart for him. Fire was licking up your spine as you wriggled in his grasp, the hand on your back immediately holding onto your bound wrists when he noticed you were about to topple over. Pulling your arms down, he arched your back to only press you further into him.
He shushed your cries of his name gently, the vibrations of his voice sending sparks directly into your bundle of nerves. “You’re doing so well for me. Now show me how good I make you feel when you cum all over my fingers and tongue, yeah?”
By now, you were reliant on the way he held you up, your own bones seemingly turned to jelly as his mouth wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it and giving the faintest graze of his teeth against it. The effect was instantaneous as you hiccuped his name, the tight knot in your stomach snapping as you released all over him.
“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” letting you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from your pussy and licking them clean, his grin was finally visible to you. Smoothing his hands up your trembling thighs, he squished the flesh around the silk, a mischievous glint in his violet eyes.
“Let’s see what else we can use this for, now that I already have you like this.”
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⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆ [ imagine #02 ]
[ j. todd ] ⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆
── . ✦ in which jason is your next door neighbour.
✦ The first time you met Jason wasn’t out of high stakes - a dangerous situation - or from a friend of a friend. It was by pure will, and that stuck out to him. You’d come over to finally meet your new neighbour who’d moved into your small apartment complex, blushing slightly as a young man opened the door. There you were, standing with a small container of pasta in hand next to the hunk of a man you’d never met. All because you’d made some extra on accident.
“Thanks. This looks great.” He nods his head ever so slightly in gratitude.
✦ Jason notices how your shoulders relax as he takes the container— how cute you looked all nervous like that. Above all, he was just happy he didn’t come off as some shitty neighbour, fortified by the wide, gentle smile you ported while turning to wave goodnight.
✦ He sets the container onto his counter, picturing your face in his mind for a brief instant. It'd been a while since someone did something nice for Jason, just because. He wasn’t used to it.
✦ You’d crossed paths many times in the hallway, but what really sealed the deal was when your sink started to leak one random thursday evening. You couldn’t tell if it was minor or not, but you wanted to play it safe, knocking next-door. Who was Jason to deny a pretty girl, anyway? He accepts causally, though inside he’s beaming more than he’d like to admit.
“Yeah, no sweat, let me grab my tools.”
✦ And only a couple minutes later, he was hunched under your kitchen cabinets— sleeves rolled up and everything. His hands work deftly, years of practice making the task almost second nature.
“Do you need a water, or anything? I have soda, too.”
“Oh- Yeah. Water would be perfect.”
✦ You tried desperately to hide your growing grin while reaching up for a glass, the whole situation particular. Jay stayed longer than he had to once the leak was actually repaired; a whole half hour to put into perspective. Maybe it was the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, or the way you seemed genuinely happy to have him over that made him give in. Or, maybe, it’d just been too fucking long since he’d had a normal conversation like this.
“Eh, I've been around for a bit," He says vaguely as you two were sharing, "Long enough to know my way around. And- to know that this place is a hell of a lot better than some of the other shitholes in the city."
He gestures to your apartment with his glass in hand, leaning against your counter. “Yeah, tell me about it… It’s small, but it works.” Jason points to the sink he had just finished fixing with a smirk, eliciting a small chuckle from you.
✦ Your smile just lit up around him, and that was when he knew you’d be the woman he’d marry.
✦ And then, the fateful night hit. Red Hood had come back home after beating up some prominent criminals near the side of an old port— covered in bruises and a small stab wound to the lower abdomen. His head wasn’t in the game, and the feverish lightning made it hard to concentrate. He reached for his apartment door, mask in hand. It was late; he knew nobody would be out roaming the halls at this hour.
✦ The handle didn’t budge, though, his black gloves gripping onto the metal more harshly.
“Fuck!”
✦ Jay yelled, banging his hand against his apartment door. This? Now? Could his night not get any fucking worse? He pauses, his expression not angry, but just sad. Tired. He looked defeated. Jason walked over to the left of him, pausing before knocking on your door.
“Jason? Oh my god- Are you-”
✦ The stab wound in his side was throbbing, and you could see some blood dripping down from his leg. He needed to get it cleaned before he passed out.
“Please.”
✦ You don’t waste anytime before helping him inside, placing your hand on his lower back. You always had your suspicions about the guy— but this? He had to be a vigilante! Crime was rampant in this area, anyway… You prayed he was on the good side of things.
✦ Jason was sitting on your toilet seat, shirt off, gaze completely averted down. He didn’t want you to see him like this; all fucked up and broken. But you didn’t run screaming, or turn away in disgust— Instead you rushed to help him. He didn’t understand. You diligently cleaned his wound with an antiseptic, own expression sour from how much you knew it had to be hurting him. Jay tried his best to hold still despite the stinging pain— grunting slightly.
“Shit…”
✦ You look up, only to notice he was already staring down at you in between his legs. Your heart skipped a number of beats.
“Can you tell me what happened?” You ask calmly, and Jason just couldn’t take it. Your soft hands - your sympathetic expression - your fucking voice. He was going to break, averting his gaze in the matter of a second before clearing his throat roughly.
“Just crossed through the bad side of town.”
✦ Once the wounds were cleaned, you bandaged them up with extra care. Jason’s gaze was fixed between your hands working at his cuts, up to your pretty face. Apart of him wanted to apologize for showing up all unannounced like this, but another part of him— a part that's been starved of kindness and compassion for far too long wanted nothing more than to let you take care of him. Nobody had ever before, at least not with such compassion as you carried.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this… I just didn’t know where else to go.”
✦ He explained his situation once you offered him a glass of water— how his apartment was locked. You don’t think twice before letting him stay the night.
✦ You handed him some old pyjama pants that were too big on you to sleep in, all the while his equipment sat in your bathtub for the time being. You didn’t waste your time before setting up the couch, too, even lighting a nice candle on the coffee table. Jason feels a warmth spread through his chest as you smile at him— it had nothing to do with the pain.
“Fuck- I can’t thank you enough for this.”
“Oh, Jason- It’s my pleasure, really. If you need anything during the night, just come get me, yeah?”
✦ You close the blinds and shut off all the lights before tucking yourself back into bed. Holy… what a night! You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head, knowing he trusted you enough for this. All the while Jason fell asleep like a light for the first time in many years, all thanks to your gentle care.
⋆ ˚。 ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚。 ⋆ part 2 ?
#jason todd#jaybird#red hood#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#batfam#dc#dc comics#fluff#comfort
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Just male reader wants to ride bang chan after chan being stressed from work.
★ STRESS RELIEF ★
☆ bangchan x male reader
-> idol!chan x non-idol!reader
꩜ .ᐟ smut
contents: top!bangchan x bottom!reader, m/m, anal sex, cock riding, anal fingering, studio setting, chan being stressed from work, established relationship, porn without plot/what plot?, explicit language, neck kisses, tongue kissing, straddling, neck nuzzling, praise, aftercare, chan calls reader “babe.”
wc: 1.2k (i think)
a/n: i feel like this is so rushed 😭 forgive mee >.< i didn’t realize until after i read through it how rushed it actually was. like i probably missed out a few things but oh well. i hope the person who requested this likes it.
♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
you find bangchan hunched over his desk in the dimly lit studio, headphones on, fingers flying over his keyboard. the room is filled with the soft glow of computer screens and the faint hum of unfinished tracks. you watch him for a moment, heart aching at the sight of his tense shoulders and exhausted expression. you know he's been working non-stop, barely taking a break, and it's starting to take a toll on him.
"chan," you call softly, stepping into the room.
he doesn't hear you at first, so you move closer, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. he jumps slightly, pulling off his headphones and turning to face you. his eyes soften when he sees you, but there's still a hint of stress lingering in them.
"hey, babe," he says, voice tired but affectionate. "what are you doing here?"
"i came to check on you," you reply, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "you’ve been working too hard."
he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "i know, but there's so much to do. i can't afford to take a break right now."
you shake your head, cupping his face in your hands. "you need to relax, chan. come on, let's take a break. just for a little while."
he hesitates, but the pleading look in your eyes convinces him. he nods, letting you pull him up from his chair. you lead him over to the couch in the corner of the studio, pushing him down gently. he looks up at you, curiosity and a hint of arousal in his eyes as you straddle his lap.
“babe, what are you doing?" he asks, though there's no real protest in his voice.
you smirk, leaning in to kiss him deeply. "just let me take care of you, okay? you need to relax, and i know exactly how to help."
he groans as you grind down against him, already starting to get hard under you. you kiss him again, more urgently this time, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. he shivers as your fingers brush against his skin, his hands coming up to grip your hips.
"fuck, babe," he mutters against your lips. "you’re gonna drive me crazy."
"that’s the plan," you reply with a grin, trailing kisses down his neck.
you can feel his cock straining against his pants, and you waste no time in unbuttoning them, pulling them down just enough to free him. your breath catches as you take in the sight of his impressive length—thick and veined, his cock stands proud and flushed a deep, enticing shade of red. it curves slightly upwards, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
the sight alone is enough to make your mouth water, and you can't help but let out a soft moan of appreciation. he hisses as the cool air hits his heated skin, his hands tightening on your hips as he watches your reaction with dark, hooded eyes.
"lift your hips a little," you instruct, reaching for the small bottle of lube that chan, the little minx, had stashed on the side table behind a stack of notebooks.
he obeys, and you take a moment to strip off your own clothes, tossing them aside carelessly. as you stand there, fully exposed, you catch chan’s heated gaze raking over your body, his eyes darkening with lust.
you smirk, enjoying the way his breath hitches when you slick your fingers up with lube. locking eyes with him, you reach behind yourself, circling your anus with one finger before slowly pushing in. chan couldn’t help but groan at the sight, his grip on your hips almost becoming painful as you drive him wild.
"fuck, y/n," he mutters. "you’re so hot."
you added a second finger, scissoring them inside you. the stretch burns slightly, but it's a familiar and welcome sensation. you take your time, wanting to make sure you're fully prepared for him. chan’s eyes are glued to your movements, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second.
"fuck, i need you," he breathes, his voice strained.
"almost there," you assure him, adding a third finger and thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out completely.
you pour some more lube into your hand, slicking up his cock and giving it a few strokes. he groans loudly, his head falling back against the couch as he bucks up into your hand.
"y/n," he whines slightly. "i need to be inside you."
you position yourself above him, lining him up with your asshole. you sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch, the stretch almost too much but exactly what you need. he grips your hips tightly, his eyes locked on where you’re connected.
"fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice thick with arousal.
you start to move, riding him slowly at first to let both of you adjust. the feeling of him filling you completely is intoxicating, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips. his hands guide you, urging you to move faster, and you comply, picking up the pace.
the room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his groans blending together in a symphony of pleasure. you can feel the tension in his body slowly starting to melt away, replaced by pure, unadulterated need.
"chan, you feel so good," you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as you ride him harder.
he thrusts up to meet your movements, “yeah? fuck, you're amazing."
you lean down to kiss him, your tongues tangling as you continue to move together. the angle shifts slightly, and you gasp as he hits that perfect spot inside you. he smirks against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.
"right there?" he asks, his voice breathless.
"yes, fuck, right there," you reply, your nails digging into his shoulders.
he thrusts up harder, hitting that spot over and over until you're seeing stars. the pleasure is overwhelming, and you can feel your orgasm building rapidly.
"chan, i’m close," you warn, your voice barely more than a whimper.
"me too, babe," he responds, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
you ride him harder, chasing your release, and with one final thrust, you come undone. your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, and you cry out his name, your entire body trembling with pleasure. he follows right behind you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he comes deep inside you.
you collapse against his chest, both of you panting and sweaty but thoroughly satisfied. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you both come down from your high.
"you’re perfect," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i really needed that."
you smile, nuzzling into his neck. "anytime, chan. i’m always here for you."
he chuckles, tightening his hold on you. "i know. and i love you for it."
"i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with affection.
you stay like that for a while, just holding each other and basking in the afterglow. eventually, you both reluctantly get up, knowing that the work still needs to be done. but now, with the stress melted away and the bond between you even stronger, it doesn't seem quite so daunting.
as you help him tidy up the studio, he looks at you with a grateful smile. "i don't know what I'd do without you, babe."
you grin, leaning in to kiss him one last time. "luckily, you'll never have to find out."
#— hynzsn’s fics 💌#— hynzsn’s asks 💌#— hynzsn’s replies 💌#bangchan#bangchan x male reader#bangchan x you#bangchan x reader#bangchan imagines#bangchan scenarios#bangchan smut#skz x male reader#skz smut#skz#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz bang chan#kpop x y/n#kpop scenarios#kpop x male reader#kpop smut#kpop x you#kpop x reader#stray kids#stray kids x male reader#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#male reader#skz fanfic#kpop fanfic
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Only Angel
dean winchester x angel!reader
1.9k | fluff, fem pronouns
summary: dean winchester needed a little clarity in his life, and you were just his only angel to do it.
dean watched as you sat on the sidewalk in front of the motel, back hunched and eyes raking over the passages in a book sam had given you. he could see the angelic side of you clear as day, but that could’ve just been dean admiring your pretty features.
around a year ago, when dean was taken out of hell and met the angel castiel, he and his brother learned that cas wasn’t the only angel who decided to touch down to earth. you followed behind cas like a confused puppy, looking at earth and all the things you’d only heard about in passing from different angels.
you were always catching dean’s attention. whether it be the way you just sat and stared sometimes, hands placed in your lap and eyes vacant like there was no thought behind them. but somehow, dean knew that you were thinking about heaven. you had rebelled just like cas, and he could see it on your face that those human emotions were starting to take a tole on you.
when he found you one night sitting per usual, dean couldn’t stop himself from gently grabbing your arm and leading you to the small field behind the motel. there, he instructed you to look up, showing you all the stars in the sky and telling you that whenever you missed heaven, just look up, and you can imagine all your brothers and sisters as those little beams of light.
he even tried to tell you that when lightening struck, you could envision it as your brothers and sisters bowling. but all you did was stare at him funny, informing him that angel’s didn’t play any recreational games in heaven.
since that night, you felt drawn to dean. always going to him when you had questions, staying close to him when you and cas were around. dean noticed it too, but he couldn’t find any place in himself where he wanted you to stop.
so the night you appeared to dean in his motel room, not saying a word as you quickly strode over to him and planted your lips on his, dean couldn’t find it in himself to push you away. he tangled his hands in your hair, bringing you close by the small of your back and drinking in the addictive feeling of your lips on his.
the movement of your lips were small and tentative, but dean didn’t seem to care. you being shy and inexperienced added more to the charm you already exuded, and dean loved every bit of it.
you later told him that the reason you kissed him was because that’s what sam told you to do when you felt fluttery feelings in your stomach around someone. dean swore to himself that he’d be owing sam for the rest of his life because of that.
that was all a couple months ago, and now, dean watched as you shifted a strand of hair behind your ear. the black and white striped tank top, alongside the dusty pink skirt that flowed around your thighs made him want to pick you up and take you right there in the back of the impala; but dean didn’t want to rush you, so he fought his self control as best as he could.
a soft sound of feet shuffling against gravel rang through dean’s ears as he leaned over the impala’s hood, tinkering with the gears and wires to make sure everything was okay. he didn’t think much of it, but since his back was facing where you were initially sitting, he had no idea that it was your ballet flat covered feet making all the noise.
“hey dean?” your voice rang from somewhere in front of him, not sparking any questions as he gravelly called out a ‘yes baby?’ in response to your ribbon like soft voice. “when are you going to teach me how to use this?”
he lifted his head in surprise, a quizzical look dawning on his face. when he turned and noticed you weren’t sat behind him anymore, he slowly moved his head towards the boot of the impala and watched with shock as you held a shot gun full of rock salt in your arms.
eyes wide, he quickly moved his head from under the hood and rushed over to you with breaths of ‘woah’ under his lips. in an instant, he took it from your hands, ignoring your adorable pouty lips as he placed it back in the trunk. “jesus feather’s, be careful. could’ve taken an eye out.”
you frowned as he simply just walked away, ignoring your original question and moving to the front seat of the impala. “you didn’t answer my question dean.” your feet planted themselves by the opening of the drivers side door. left foot tapping impatiently as you stared intently at dean’s side profile. “i want to learn how to use it.”
dean just chuckled, turning to plant his feet on the gravel and staring into your stoic eyes. instead of dangling by your side, you had your arms crossed over your chest in a defiance of anger. though dean couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you looked.
“i’m not kidding dean!” you basically whined, sending thoughts to dean’s head that he probably shouldn’t be thinking at the moment. “i want to be helpful. my grace can only take me so far.”
with a sigh leaving his lips, dean held back his immediate rebuttal to your argument. he wanted you to feel useful. feel how important you were to him and sam. he just selfishly didn’t want you to be corrupted by all the things that ruined him. you were so pure in your own sense. being able to use your grace to fight was one way you held onto that angelic side of you. he couldn’t bare do that to you.
dean also knew that you wanted to do this. all he could muster to do was grip your waist tightly in his hands and drag your body in between his legs. his arms went up to wrap around your lower back and torso, head tilted upwards so he could look at you through his lashes. you knew he was trying to use his charm and looks to sway you towards his ideas. you felt like a lovesick follow for following his bright green eyes so easily.
“you are helpful in your own ways baby, i hope you know that.” with a grin on his lips, dean stood up and rested his hands low on your ass, giving it a firm tap before kissing your cheek. “though if this is what you want, than get in the car. i have an idea.”
a light squeal left your lips as you reached on your tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on dean’s lips. your feet shuffled around the impala and into the passenger seat, watching as dean slammed the hood of the car down and situated himself behind the wheel. in an instant, he was backing out of the parking lot and speeding down the street.
he turned onto a desolate side street, fields and dirt roads in every direction as the smell of fresh grass wafted through the windows. you looked quizzically out at the scenery, wondering what dean had in mind as his hand rested gently on your upper thigh.
slowly stopping beside an open field, dean got out of the car, watching idly as his angel sat stiff and still in the car. grabbing one of the many hand guns from the trunk, dean opened the passenger side door and chuckled as you stared up at him with wide, curious eyes. “c’mon sweets. i’m gonna teach you how to shoot.”
with an eager and excited smile on your face, you scampered out of the car and flung your arms around dean’s shoulders. peppering many kisses around his face, you joyously mumbled thank you’s into each of your kisses. dean’s laugh reverberated off his chest as you ran off towards the middle of the field, waving him over when you found a good spot.
meeting you where the field took a decline to a hill; showing acres of grass and trees at the bottom, dean slowly handed you the gun as he situated himself behind you. “the first and most important thing to know is how to hold it.” dean snaked his arms around your body as he spoke, arms positioning your own as his hands clutched yours in the perfect position.
“there ya go angel. just like that, you’re doing amazing.” dean’s praise fell deftly onto the shell of your ear, his breath hitting a spot on your neck that made a deep sigh erupt from your throat. dean’s explanation on how to aim and the recoil of some gun’s fell deaf to your ears. all you could feel was his arms wrapped around you, his solid chest pressed to your back as his chin rested on your shoulder. this was too much. and you were starting to wonder if asking dean to fuck you, right now, in the impala’s back seat, was such a bad idea.
“now just put your finger on the trigger.” dean’s words started to register again in your brain, and when you felt him back up a bit and allow you to get into position, you felt the desire you had moments ago be replaced by the overwhelming feeling of learning something new.
dean watched you as you got into position. squaring your shoulders and lifting your arms up in aim as dean relished in how you looked at the moment.
you looked so out of place. so out of your element as you held one of his guns, skirt billowing around your upper thighs in the wind. you looked out of place, but so ethereal. so beautiful in dean’s eyes that he couldn’t believe you chose him.
“is this okay?” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as you questioned the placement of your arms. dean couldn’t help but move closer to your back again as he looked over your stance.
“yeah lovely, that’s perfect. you’re doin’ amazing.” his words encouraged you to pull the trigger, a loud pop ringing through the air as the bullet whizzed right into the lone beer bottle that dean had grabbed earlier for target practice.
an excited squeak tore from your lips, legs jumping up and down as dean’s arms wrapped around your middle. he swung you around, exclaiming in happiness as you laughed with joy. you did it on your first try, and dean couldn’t be anymore proud.
“look at you baby, that was amazing.” dean’s excitement could be heard through his voice. when he spun you around, the glimmer of pride even sparked in his eyes. “i’m so proud of you, angel, you’ve come so far.” no words came from your mouth. all you could manage was a feeble hug to show your love. dean knew what you were implying, hugging you back twice as hard as his hand smoothed down your hair.
his mouth was by your ear, whispering sweet nothings as you held onto him tightly. with a gentle kiss on his collarbone, you pulled away and grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the car with a happy skip in your step. “c’mon! i wanna go back to the motel and tell sam and cas!”
how could dean say no to his perfect angel? his only angel.
#supernatural#dean winchester#imagine#sam winchester#supernatural x reader#fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction
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When there’s a Logan, there’s a You
Logan Howlett [Variants] • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • In Wade’s attempts to find the perfect Wolverine for his timeline, he half expected not to run into the many different yous that existed • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Blood / Nightmares / Scars
“Oh, I gotta find me another Logan” Wade sighs, taking out the glorified fire phone. “An alive one…Don’t get up, guys. I’ll see myself out”
Comic Accurate Short King
“Logan!” Wade shouts in the axe throwing bar, spotting Logan sat at the bar. “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”
“Who’s asking?” Logan glared, hopping off the bar stool and revealing his true height.
“Oh, look at this hairy Lou Retton” Wade giggles behind the mask. “Did you stick the landing, little guy?”
A bit of annoyance grew on Logan’s face as he walked closer to Wade.
“Yes, you did! Comic-accurate short king” Wade leaned down, his voice in more of a mocking way and before he could say more he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Marvel Jesus turned around and holy fuck was this universe’s Y/N was tall as SHIT.
“Who you callin’ short, fucking ketchup bottle?” Y/N growled, gripping his shoulder with a bit of a force that drove a shiver down his spine.
“Okay Godzilla, I think I’ll be on my way out” Wade pulls himself away, taking the phone out and staring at their height dynamics as the door opens behind him. “He climbs you like a tree huh?” He teased only for both of them to get annoyed about to follow him but he quickly went through with it shutting behind.
Cue the fucking montage
Weapon X
As Wade steps through the door he was in shock at how ruined this universe was.
“Everything here is on fire” He thought out loud, entering an alleyway finding a hunched over figure with a cloak covering them. “Hi, have you seen I guess a more apocalyptic looking Hugh Jackman around here?”
The individual lifted their head showing their face to Wade causing him to kneel in front of the person.
“Fucking hell is that you Y/N?!” Wade removed the hood of her cloak revealing the buzzed hair. “Okay Furiosa, you slay in any universe”
The confusion write itself on her face as she didn’t know who this person was but given her state of being, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. But he sure did.
Suddenly, Wade was thrown away from Y/N’s space causing a bit of a comical scream to erupt out of the poor guy. Next thing he knew, his body met the wall which broke a few bones. Especially the car he landed on broke a couple more.
As Wade groans lifting himself onto his elbows, he turned to find a man had replaced where he was.
“I don’t know who you are but maybe you know where—-“
The man straightened up turning around to look Wade with the familiar scowl that matches every Wolverine.
“Well well well, you aren’t a kitty cat like the rest with that lion’s mane of yours” Wade smirks rolling off the car and walking over to get up close and personal. He was about to demand he come with him but then his eyes moved with his head to the metal stump that used to be his left hand. “Do your claws still work with that thing?” He gasps suddenly, straightening up. “Was that the hand you used to jerk o—-“
Before he could finish he went flying to the wall again after Logan punched him with said stump. Logan had enough of this yapping individual he’s never seen before and decided a threat is a threat. So he went after Wade and if he could, he’d turn him into ceviche if other matters didn’t stop him.
Y/N watched this all play out for a while and wanted to break it up but a part of her couldn’t handle the noises she was hearing.
Her wince is what made Logan stop and shove Wade off the car he was fighting him on before quickly approaching her. Logan gently cradles her face with his hand resting his forehead against hers.
“Yeah…okay, I’ll uh…see myself out” Wade groans dragging his body to the door he opened with his phone.
Patch
When Wade opened the door to the next universe he was confused whether he was in a casino in Vegas or a casino in the middle of the jungle because when he looked outside the window it looked like a jungle.
“Can I help you sir?”
The voice caught him off guard as he quickly turned around to lock eyes with this universe’s Y/N. Except his Y/N had cochlear implants. Not every universe is the same people! This Y/N clearly had her mutation manifest a bit too much that her eardrums BOOM! Exploded. Bursted…what’s the medical mumbo-jumbo? Anyway, I only know that cuz that ALMOST happened to my Y/N.
“Sir—-Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a tall broody man that apparently has a very gremlin sized version of himself in another universe. Hell, you were alllllll leg there” Wade started to doze off thinking about how exactly the short king, yknow then he snapped back into it. “Anyho! You’re not helpful so I’m leaving you in your cute little waiter outfit alone and let myself in”
Before he even got to the door, Y/N blocked his path firmly pressing her hand against his chest.
“Okay princess, I’m not here to fight. I just need to talk to Logan”
The name triggered a thought in her mind unknown to him, but it was obvious that she thought Logan’s position was about to be compromised by this stranger.
“You don’t have a meeting with Patch and if you enter without granted access…I’ll have to take care of you myself” Y/N shoved Wade with a force he would never expect from her.
“Holy shit have you been working out or juicing?” Wade scoffs falling on his ass watching Y/N take out a small canister that with a quick press of a button it formed into a staff. “Marvel H. Christ…you pack a punch. I wonder what you’d do with the Hulk as your opponent”
“I’d leave if I were you”
“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s a no can do” Wade groans on his way back up, taking one of his katanas out. “Guess I’ll have to force my way through”
Logan suddenly felt uneasy as he looked at his winning cards, confusing the others at the table but his expression was toward what he heard that they didn’t. He reveals his cards and listened to their disappointment but before he could leave the table…
“Patch” Wade gave him a look which led Logan to gesture for the man on his right to give up his seat for him. “I need to talk to you”
“I don’t know who you are, bub” Logan tapped the table for his cards as the dealer gave Wade his as he was confused at to what they were playing.
“Yeah but I know exactly who you are and you HAVE to tell me how you snagged Y/N. The little lady is crazier than mine.” Wade lifted his cards, leaning into Logan. “What are we playing?” He whispers only for the man to growl at him in his space. “Ok ok. Not Go-Fish…uhm. I fold”
The dealer nodded and went to the next player, Logan kept his composure for the most part but when Wade said his partner’s name…his whole body tensed.
“How do you know Y/N.”
“Well that’s a bigger discussion we should have in private. And probably without her because she’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up” Wade went to reach for his card and Logan had enough which led the man to unsheathe his claws to stab him in the head. The woman on the other side of the mercenary, screamed when blood got on her but business continued as Logan retracted his claws along with pulling Wade away and off the table.
“You look like you could use a drink” the dealer gestured for a waiter to come over and before Logan could stand up to check on one in particular, he felt a hand stop him.
Logan quickly looked up locking eyes with his partner who bore a tired expression along with a bruise forming on her cheek. He could smell the blood on her and knew it was hers given she hide her other arm behind her back to avoid other eyes.
‘You okay?’ He signed to her as Y/N nods before both their attention were drawn to Wade dragging himself along the carpeted floor.
“Never…coming…back here” Wade groans continuing to drag himself away as Y/N scoffs at his form while signing ‘idiot’.
As soon as Wade left, Logan rises to his feet excusing himself from the table and walking out with Y/N back to the small lobby before their casino room. He frowns scanning around the room to see all the damage done to the place alone.
‘He ever comes back, you get me’ Logan scoffs as he signs to her while taking a hold of her arm that Wade managed to knick with his tiny knife.
‘I can handle myself’ She frowns, feeling his fingers gently lift her chin to have her attention on him.
“I don’t care. This operation is risky, I can’t lose you in the process” Logan frowns, kissing her forehead before bringing her into his arms for a brief moment. Her body finally relaxed after that whole interaction.
Old Man Logan
“This is much homier than the last universe…I think I still taste metal…” Wade pondered as he approached the small property in the woods. “Was it his claws or her staff going up where the sun don’t—-Oh hey!” He waves at the old man on the porch.
Said old man didn’t seem to care much of the guy dressed like a ketchup bottle. He kept his attention on himself until he heard the footsteps draw nearer.
“Hello, Hi! Hope you’re the man I’m looking for”
The old man lifted his gaze only for Wade to be taken back a sec.
“Well don’t you need some coconut oil on…that” He gestures to Logan’s older complexion as his words only drew out a low growl from the old man. “So you and my Logan actually aged. Can the little Wolvie still perform? I wanted to ask my Y/N but she’s still grieving”
Logan glared at him which drew out a growl out of the man the closer Wade got.
The growling annoyed more than the merc as the front door opened revealing this universe’s Y/N with a very tired expression on her face. Logan’s growling suddenly stopped as he turned toward the door finding her disappointed expression making his expression soften for a second.
Then a whole 180 turn back to Wade returning the scowl on his face and suddenly the shotgun he was hiding under his blanket fired at the poor guy launching him back from the force alone.
“He’s twitching” Y/N frowns stepping off the porch and checking the body, watching the bullet holes heal. “He can heal like you, babe” she pulls away from the body, only for her back to bump into Logan’s chest as he instantly went to cover her with his body. “He’s not going to hurt me”
Logan shot her a glare which was met with an annoyed look from her. He tensed when he heard Wade groaning, resulting in him gently nudging Y/N back as he took a step back.
“Okayyyy…clearly, I struck a fucking nerve with this one. Like…the others” Wade groans rising to his feet and cracking his back as he did such. “I shall bid y’all farewell…this writer needs to send me to a universe where the wolverine is a cat. Then maybe just maybe I won’t be too hurt” he sighs taking out his phone and opening a door to the next universe.
The poor guy looked around terrified as to where the man dressed in red had disappeared to, all while Y/N pulled away heading back inside.
“You want some peach cobbler?” She asks halfway through the door as Logan perked up quickly following behind her.
The door shut a moment, then Logan opened it back up leaving his shotgun outside before going back in.
Crucified Wolverine
Wade face plants into the sea of red skulls and part of him was afraid but most of him was curious.
“What in the fuck…” He lifts his head finding Logan on a giant yellow X. “Are you okay??” He laughs, struggling to rise to his feet as he stumbles on over to get close to this variant.
All this Logan has done was groan to the feeling of the nails in his wrists and the rain hitting his skin making him overall uncomfortable.
“Yeah uh. Not you…we’re uhm. Going in different directions” Wade turned around opening a door. “Thank god I didn’t find a Y/N skull…”
“Y/N…” Logan sobbed hearing her name which only made Wade anxious and get out of there faster not wanting to know what happened to one of his best friends in this universe.
John Byrne’s Brown and Tan Wolverine
“Oh yes, YES! Classic John Byrne brown and tan” Wade nodded happily watching Logan come into view of the wrecked forest they stood in. “Now you fought the Hulk in this costume…”
Logan readied himself, unsheathing his claws at the exact moment the Hulk roared which led Wade to turn around being face to face with said green monster.
“I’m Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I——“ Wade was suddenly hit by the Hulk into the trunk of a knocked down oak.
Part of him was having enough of these Logan variants that Wade started to whine and an even bigger chunk of him wishes his Y/N was with him.
“Get up!”
It felt like he was seeing an angel when her voice caught his ears. Y/N picked up Wade like it was nothing, carrying him over her shoulders and bringing him away from the fight but the Hulk was acting like a bull chasing them which led to Logan chasing him.
“DITCH THE RED, BUB” Logan shouts, climbing a tree and launching himself onto the Hulk’s back throwing him back.
Y/N suddenly dropped Wade but helped him to his feet. “Listen, Red. You’re not from here and this ain’t your fight”
“I know I know! I was gonna ask if I could borrow your Logan to help save my universe” Wade’s voice was panicked watching Logan and the Hulk fight.
“Look. Avengers are after us for messin’ with the multiverse already. You need to find a Logan that doesn’t have anything he could lose in his universe.” Y/N frowns. “It’s messed up but that’s how it’s gonna have to be.”
“Wait. How the fuck do you know so much about the multiverse?”
“When your Red vanishes one day and it became this unknown trend…you get curious and start talking to a few sorcerers” Y/N states, getting a chill down her back as she quickly grabs Wade pulling them both out of the way of the tree thrown their way.
“Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE” Logan shouts, mainly over his anxiety for their safety with a hint of anger.
Y/N sighs grabbing Wade’s hand and pulling him out of their line of sight. She quickly took the phone out of his hand and dialed in two sequences.
“These two have lone Wolverines. One definitely has some baggage from a different studio but the other I know nothing about”
“Ok ok…I’ll take it” Wade took the phone, opening the first one up. Before she stepped completely away, he called out to her catching her attention. “Uhm. I…”
“You will save your universe, Wilson.” Y/N gave a small nod with a smile before turning around and running toward the fight.
The Cavillrine
The revving of the motorcycle caught his attention instantly.
“Oh now we’re talking” Wade started to approach this universe’s Wolverine. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there”
As he got closer, he grew more confused and remembered when the other Y/N brought up “studio” as if it meant something important…
“Yknow…from behind you look a little like Henry—-“ The second Logan turned around, Wade gasped. “Oh my FUCK…the Cavillrine the legends are true”
Logan gave him a confused expression as he puffed out some cigar smoke, bringing his attention toward his bike once more.
“And may I say sir on the behalf of all humanity….this just feels RIGHT” Wade emphasized on the last word with a bunch of giddiness in his voice watching Logan turn to him. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!”
“You were just leaving” Logan scoffs, removing the cigar from his mouth and tossing it.
“No sir! I wonder if your Y/N looks a little like Amy Adams” Wade thought for a moment, “No no no sir, not while the fate of my universe is at—-“
Poor guy.
Wade flew through the next time door from the force of Logan’s punch.
The Worse Wolverine
After the whole spiel, Logan came face to face with Wade’s gun as he could sense he had enough of disappointment. But he wasn’t going to go that easily.
“Watch this” Logan laughs reaching for the bottle and straightening up. “Alright…Woah—-“ he grabbed onto the gun to stabilize himself. “Easy…” he laughs softly, starting to drink the bottle straight up.
“Good god” Wade watches in pure shock. “Thirsty little honey badger aren’t yea?” He continues to watch him down the bottle which triggered a thought in his mind. “How did Y/N deal with your little drinking problem huh?”
Logan finished the bottle with a bit of a shocked expression hearing that name. “Y/N?” He questions him, only to suddenly collapse from the amount in his system.
Wade sighs holstering his gun and stepping over his unconscious body. “You will have to do”
You’ve all seen the movie do I really have to rewrite the whole thing? Let’s just get to the part where you show up
Althea scoffed after her wishing she was deaf comment as she listens to the commotion Wade and Logan were causing in the streets.
“Y/N!” She shouted knowing her apartment door is closed, and Y/N’s. But with her mutation, she heard her.
Y/N instantly lets herself in running over to the window and climbing out onto the fire escape where Al was. She instantly took note of the commotion happening.
“What is it?!”
“A fuckton of Wades”
“God fucking damn it. They better not be staying. Those motherfuckers won’t pay their rent!” Al scoffs again, going back into her apartment to look for some much need cocaine in her opinion. All while Y/N continued to watch the fight happening before re-entering herself and quickly grabbing something.
While the two were fighting in the bus, Y/N stepped out of the apartment complex finding a few Deadpool stragglers resulting in her running toward a presumed dead one and grabbing his handguns to take out the few giving hopefully her Wade less trouble. She flinched to the sound of broken glass as she ran over to the end of the bus sighing with relief.
“Wade, this is what you’ve been doing?! Fucking up the multiverse?!”
“I DIDNT DO SHIT! BLAME THE TVA” Wade shouts in her direction as he couldn’t help but feel the growing tension beside him that was Logan staring into Y/N’s soul from the looks of it. “Listen sweet cheeks. We gotta go save our universe and I need peanut’s help. So while he continues to stare at you like he’s seen a ghost Imma need you to have our backs in case—-“ he heard the sounds of bones cracking back into place as Y/N instantly knew where he was going.
“Go!” She shouted at them and while they ran to take care of the time ripper, she half expected to take on a whole clusterfuck of Deadpools. But when she heard the stand down! from Peter. She had only an ounce of hope.
Once the threat of it all was over, Y/N found herself back in her apartment leaned up against the door hugging a flannel close to her chest as she didn’t feel it in the moment. But seeing Logan, not her Logan, again was bringing back all kinds of feelings. She was hugging her Logan’s shirt as she had quite a few along with a box of Polaroids that their daughter took for the most part.
A knock on the door pulled her out of this trance she put herself in as she rises to her feet.
As she opened the door, her heart that was once beating fast because of her anxiety…relaxed when she locked eyes with Laura. Y/N instantly dropped the flannel and broke down into tears bringing her into her arms sobbing with her.
“Mom…” Laura whispers, sobbing and gripping onto the back of her shirt. Y/N held onto her for dear life, looking over her shoulder to find a smiling Wade and equally happy Logan beside him.
When they locked eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face even with all the tears before hiding her face while hugging Laura. Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest.
You’ll find me again, I promise His Y/N’s words rang in his head as he looked at this universe’s Y/N.
A Logan will always find a Y/N
#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#x men#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fanfiction#brokenmutations
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“anything? that right?”
old!logan howlett x f!reader
summary: you end up in logan’s shop with an oil leak and can’t afford to pay him
wc: 2.3k (i’m in hell the brain rot is BAAAAD)
authors note: plot is very cliche like ik eat me. while writing this i took a break and got an edit of logan to tulsa jesus freak. yes i’ve lost my sanity. also i don’t know shit about shit with cars so yea
warnings/tags: MDNI. dubcon. unspecified age gap. logan is a little mean?? reader has no description besides hair long enough for logan to grab, wearing short skirt. logan grabs readers face. hair pulling. big dick logan (canon). pussy pronouns. spanking. throat fucking. degrading. tears. dirty talk. pet names. daddy kink. fingering. aggressive sex. unprotected sex (wrap it up). cream pie. orgasm denial.
your type doesn’t frequent this place, the auto shop on the edge of a town that’s seen better days. most of logan’s customers he’s had for years, he’d grown used to the faces that come through the shop, greeting people on a first name basis at this point in his career. like hell did he ever expect you. you, who stood behind him when he’s hunched down, working beneath the hood of a truck. he didn’t hear you coming, the radio on his workbench drowning out the sound of your footsteps. “shit,” he hissed, peeling back from the piece of shit he’d spent his afternoon working away at, white beater stained with oil and god knows what else. he paused abruptly when he finally noticed you, drawing in a slow breath. if he didn’t have enough on his plate, here you are. a pretty, young thing. in the thick of the summer you’re hardly dressed in much at all, a little top and a short skirt. “ain’t hear you come in,” the clear of his throat echoes off the walls as he walked towards his bench, wiping his hands with a greased up towel. “can i do for you?” his teeth clamp down on the toothpick stuck out his mouth, an oral fixation to try and keep his mind off smoking while on the job. it hardly worked for shit, nicotine always in the back of his mind. the radio gradually softens, pair of glasses pulled onto the bridge of his nose. “think i have an oil leak?” you sound unsure of it, logan nods, scribbling it down onto a forum he kept for his records. “bring ‘er in. take a look,” his boots thud quietly across the floor, walking past you to pull open the garage door. the wiring had gone out a couple months ago and he’s yet to get around to fixing it, muscles straining as he pulled the door up an over his head. he watched you pull your car in, sighing as you stepped back out. “well.. ain’t even have to look. engine sounds like shit, definitely a leak. i’ll pop underneath anyway, see f’somethin’s loose or if it’s a crack.” he nodded, wheeling his creeper out from beneath the bench with his foot. he tries not to groan as he sunk to the floor, his body too old for this shit. he pushes himself up underneath the car, brow knit in a tight furrow as he took a look around to access the problem. “oil pan has a crack, s’pretty fuckin’ bad. i can change it out for you, take me an hour.. hour an a half at most.” he nods, sat upright, an elbow propped against his bent knee. your expression flashes with annoyance and he thought to himself that you looked like a fucking brat, but god damn did you wear it so well. he fights back with the corner of his lips that threatens to tug up.
logan gathered up what he needed, not paying you any mind as you’re left with not much other choice but to sit and wait for him to finish on your car. dressed like this he figured you had better places to be, but he didn’t give a fuck. you came to him, and the way he saw it was your choices were limited to accepting the help and learning some patience or ruining your car. he’s good at the work he does, it’s why he has so many loyal customers, why he’s been in business so long. he could’ve given you some grief for the look you gave him when he told you about the wait- and he still might. “she’s good as new.” he nodded, sliding out from beneath the car with your cracked oil pan. his chest is slick with sweat, glistening under the dull lighting. he brushed his dirty hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood, tossing your old cracked pan into the trash as he approached his work bench again, quickly jotting down the work that he’d done. “s’goin’ to be.. nine hundred fifty three. s’for the replacement, fresh oil and that god damn look you gave me earlier.” he nods, dropping the clipboard onto the desk. “take cash or card.” his arms cross over his broad torso, forehead creasing as his brow sunk in. “this is a joke, right?” you ask, scoffing out a laugh as you look up at him though his expression doesn’t let up, unamused. “do i look like m’makin’ a fuckin’ joke, sweetheart?” his jaw is clamped tight, his tone flat, serious. “you can’t charge me for a look?” “i can charge you whatever the hell i feel like. i had other shit goin’ on.. could’ve made you wait a hell of a lot longer.” you scoff out in disbelief at him, shaking your head. “i don’t have nine hundred dollars.” you finally admit and logan’s head dropped forward, a low chuckle coming from his lips. when you didn’t pull out a card he knew this shit was going happen. he saw right through you. “alright so.. let me get this straight, sweetheart. you came here for me to look at your car knowin’ you didn’t have the god damn money to pay for it? is that right?” he lacks sympathy for you, pretty as you were you had another thing coming if you thought you were going to pull a fast one on him. “i might be old, girl, but i ain’t no fuckin’ fool. i tell you what.. no money, no fuckin’ keys.” his voice is low, your keys dangled around his finger and he shoves them down into his pocket. he walks away from you, too god damn angry to be stood in front of you, having wasted enough time on you already. “please, you don’t understand.. i need my car. i can pay you what i have right now and bring you the rest next week, please.” you beg, coming up behind him where he’s hunched over again beneath the hood of someone else’s vehicle, the same one he’d been working on when you arrived. “ain’t my god damn problem.” he muttered, biceps flexing beneath his tanned skin as he tightened a bolt in place. “i’ll do anything.” you plea again and logan slowly stops what he’s doing, looking down at the truck battery he was working at. he sighed loudly, recomposing himself as he peeled back from the truck, walking towards the garage door. he reached up, muscles flexing across his back as he pulled the door shut, closing off the inside of his shop from the street view.
“anything? that right?” he’s standing before you now, looking down at your shorter frame. “anything.”* you repeat in a whisper. he drew in a slow, deep breath as your palm slid over the front of his dirty jeans, stepping closer into you until you’re tucked between him and the truck. he groans when your squeeze your palm around him through the denim, your lips curling up to a sinisterly sweet smile when you tug at his belt. he grabs your face hard, lips puffed out slightly when he pulled you in for a kiss. it’s sloppy, his tongue lapping across your lips before dipping into your mouth, an anger filled hunger. he’s pissed off, but you’re pretty enough that he’d be willing to accept your throat as some sort of payment. he looks down at you as you pull back from his kiss, sinking to your knees. he appreciates that you had no issue getting to the point. “i reckon you must’ve been thinkin’ about this the entire time, sweetheart.” logan mused as you grabbed his cock out from inside his jeans, moaning at the sight of him. “bet you ain’t ever seen a cock that big huh, girl?” the palm of his hand pets against the back of your head as you stroke him slowly, his shaft filling out your small palm. “hands behind your back.” he nods slowly, gathering your hair into his fist, holding the back of your head with a tight grasp. he taps the weight of his cock against your tongue before he lays his base flat against you, slowly pulling his hips back as your warm tongue licked over the veins that protrude from tightened foreskin. “nice an wide.” he mutters, feeding the head of his cock into your mouth, a grunt parting his lips when he brushed the back of your throat. god damn. “you’re goin’ to sit here and take it like a champ. reckon you ought’a think about havin’ my god damn money next time. stupid girl.” he warned you before his hips draw back and roll forward, pushing the length of his cock down the curve of your throat. it’s lewd, the repeated squelch of your throat as he pushes himself inside again and again. “should’a known you’d be this big of a slut when i saw you. cute little fuckin’ outfit, barely wearin’ anythin’ at all. just knew how to get an old man goin’.” he grunts, unbothered by the tears that have begun to roll over your cheeks. he’s selfish, using your throat to his advantage, balls slapping the underside of your chin. the cute outfit you’d turned up in ruined by your own slop of saliva as it dribbled out the corners of your mouth. “good fuckin’ girl. payin’ off every fuckin’ dollar.” his skin is slick with sweat, head lulling back against his shoulders, blinded by the dull white light above him. your throat is exactly what he needed at the end of a shitty week, and he had no shame in taking out his stress on you, sure you wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.
when he finally lets up you choke out a cough, spit strung between his soaked cock and your mouth, breathing hard as you look up at him with watery eyes. still, you come chasing for more, hands sat on his denim clad thighs as you licked your tongue along his cock, gasping in a breath of air before you took him back into your throat, craving the feeling once more. “fuck’n hell.. look at you. must really need that god damn car, huh?” his fingers move into your hair again, yanking your mouth back off his cock so he could pull you up from the floor. “ain’t that right, princess? you’d do anythin’ for those keys back, huh?” “yes, daddy.” you choke out and what patience logan had left snaps, swiftly turning you around by the hold he has on your hair. he lifts the skirt up over the swell of your ass, palm of his hand roughly swatting against. you. once, twice, three times. your cheeks are stained red as your legs tremble, impatiently waiting for him to give you more. “let me see ‘er.” logan nods, bent over you and he pulled your panties to the side, spreading your cheeks so he had a perfect view of both holes, your pussy slick with your own arousal.
“you like gettin’ treated like a slut.” he acknowledged, spitting against his fingers before he brings them to your pussy, fingertips swirling your clit before he pressed two long fingers into your core, free hand wrapped around your throat. he stroked his fingers slowly at first but gained speed as your arousal coated him, making it easier for him to plunge his fingers into your tight hole, biceps flexing with each stroke of his fingers, feeling out the warmth of your walls, infatuated with the way your pussy sucks his fingers back in. he grins at the gasp you take in when he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing yourself up straighter as he sunk himself deep into your pussy. “daddy,” you softly grab at the hand he has around the middle of your throat, moaning as his chest presses up against your back. “you ever been stretched out this good before?” he asks beside your ear, breathing out a quiet laugh when you shake your head no. he grabs your face again, pulling your lips back to his when he fucks into you, hard strokes that press your hips against the grill of the truck, sure to leave you with bruises in days following. he swallows the moans you cry out, roughly driving his hips into yours. he’s unrelenting, giving himself to you hard the way you deserve it, the way you so evidently love it. it’s been a long god damn time since he had pussy this good, and fuck was he obsessed with yours, cursing himself for fixing the troubles your car had given you instead of giving you the run around to keep you coming back for more. hell, with the way you’re fucking yourself back onto his cock you just might anyway. “you’re going to make me cum, daddy,” you choke out, and he grabs at your hips, pulling him deeper into your sopping cunt. “that right? this ain’t even about you, princess. this was for me, remember? who says you’re allowed to cum?” he is brow furrows, getting a rise out of the way you while beneath him, small hands grabbing at the truck. “please, i know it’s not about me but please let me cum, daddy.” you whine, legs trembling beneath you, threatening to cave under your weight. he doesn’t respond, just fucking into your stretched core while you beg him to cum again and again. he ignored you until he spilled first, filling you with thick ropes of his cum, hips flush against yours so you take every drop deep inside. “you want to cum now, sweetheart?” he asked and you nod, rocking your hips back against him as your chase your own high.
needless to say, logan was more than willing to return your keys. and you.. well you might purposefully pop a tire soon.
#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett#xmen x reader#xmen smut#GRRRR#old!logan#deadpool and wolverine
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I Don’t Wanna Get Used to Not Having You Around
Frank Castle X f!reader for @xxdrixx
A gift for you my sweet friend!! Please enjoy a little fake dating Frank fic I cooked up!! Title is from In the Heights by Knox Hamilton
WC: 4100
Warnings: none, fake dating, slight sugar daddy vibes if you squint, no beta if you see a typo no you didn’t
Frank slipped into his usual haunt, black hood up and boot speckled with rain. Incessant drizzles like this one meant a thinner crowd than usual. Of course, he did a quick scan of the room from the wide window before he entered. A group of college aged guys gathered around the pool table, three middle aged men at the far end of the bar watching the giants play, and a girl at the opposite end hunched over a drink he couldn’t make out. Once he deduced there were no threats, he entered quietly, stamping his feet on the crooked mat to rid himself of any larger raindrops and pushing it straight with the toe of his boot before taking a seat on one of the barstools with frayed seams and stuffing spilling out.
Two stars on yelp meant cheap drinks and sparse evenings. Perfect for someone like him.
He flagged down the bartender for a beer and shrugged his hood down. A bruise on his cheek was fading to a sickly green, but he was otherwise free of wounds which was a rarity.
Frank fished a book from his inner jacket pocket and noticed the girl two seats down from him more clearly now. Watery eyes, a pile of disintegrating tissues in her pockets that she had been using to dry the stream of tears. Chipped nail polish that had clearly been picked at and a phone that she incessantly checked for a message that didn’t seem to be coming.
For some reason, he was overcome with pity for this stranger.
He cleared his throat, “If the drink’s that bad, I can buy ya another one.”
You tensed slightly at his voice and looked to see who he was talking to before realizing it was you.
“Oh,” you laughed, a small one but a real one. “No, this is the only thing that’s helping.”
Frank nodded and cracked his book open, unable to parse if he should further the conversation.
He closed his book just as quickly as he had opened it, “Shitty guy?”
“The shittiest,” you instantly responded, turning slightly on the stool to face him.
The bartender set Frank’s beer down and he gave a quiet, “Thank you,” accompanied by a nod.
“My ex is engaged, to a girl I hate,” you drew out the H sound incredulously. “We went to the same college and she was always weirdly competitive with me, going for the same opportunities, stealing my ideas and trying to outdo me. We even applied for the same job at the end, and she got it instead of me. And he fed me some bullshit about us being incompatible. I feel like I got traded in for the better model,” your voice wavered. You picked up your drink and drained the second half in one gulp.
“That’s,” Frank paused, “Profoundly shitty.”
“They invited me to their engagement party,” you scoffed, pushing your phone away from you.
“Yikes,” Frank scratched the back of his head.
“And I’m still at the same shitty job living in the same shitty apartment. No date. Nothing nice to wear, no way to pretend like I’m a fraction as okay as them,” you signaled to the bartender for a refill.
“You might want it straight from the bottle,” Frank whispered, making a slight gesture towards their kitchen and wordlessly grimacing.
“Gross,” you wrinkled your nose, “Thanks for the tip.”
“When’s the party?”
“Tomorrow,” you groaned and laid your head on the cool tile of the bar before quickly retracting from the sticky residue you were met with.
“How did I never notice how bad this place is?” you laughed.
“It’s easy to ignore when you’re trying to forget everything else.”
“Who are you trying to forget?” you asked softly, resting your chin against your hands and really taking him in for the first time.
A strong jaw and nose, broad shoulders, neat hair and square posture. You would’ve guessed ex-military even before you eyed the dog tags around his neck with what looked to be a wedding ring.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line”, you apologized quickly.
He shrugged it off, “Nah, you’re just making conversation with the jackass who hit you up at the bar. I’m the one who didn’t mind my business.”
“Well I don’t think you’re a jackass.”
“You’d be in the minority then,” he scoffed a laugh and took a swig of his beer.
A short silence hung in the air between you. The clack of pool balls, loud complaints from the men watching football, the roar of the heater in the corner. Your head swam a little under the low lights as you stared at the man beside you. Feeling bold, you slid over to another stool until only one sat between you.
“I’m Frank,” he smiled.
Fuck. He was tanked.
While the two of you made further conversation, Frank took in everything about you. The shine of your eyes, the lilt of your laugh, the way your hair fell across your face and how badly he wanted to brush it behind your ear so it no longer obscured his view of you.
For hours the two of you chatted and drank. At some point, Frank scooted to the stool next to yours until your shoulders were flush against each other.
He leaned in to whisper to you, observations and wisecracks about the other bar patrons. You could feel the stubble on his cheek against your earlobe and his breath falling on your cheek, clouding your senses and making you forget that you had chosen that bar to be alone and cry tonight.
“I have a stupid idea,” he said, angling his body towards yours and you missed the contact of his shoulder.
“I love stupid ideas,” you grinned.
“Let me take you to that party tomorrow. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend. We can show them what they’re missing.”
“That’s ridiculous,” you laughed, then paused to contemplate.
Frank knew this was a bad idea. That if you said yes, he’d be in too deep. He was already under your spell and you weren’t even trying to be anything but an unguarded, unfiltered version of yourself.
“You don’t have to do that. Keeping me company tonight means I’m already in your debt. I don’t like when the score is that uneven.”
“On the contrary, you kept a lonely guy like me company tonight, so I actually owe you.”
You laughed and looked down, really starting to consider his offer.
“You would do that?”
“If there’s anything I love, it’s giving people hell. Having a beautiful girl on my arm is just a bonus.”
“Yeah. Okay,” you nodded.
The two of you exchanged contact info, when and where he should pick you up, and parted ways, but not before he insisted on walking you home. You could tell he wasn’t a creep, and that his insistence came from a place of concern and protection. You looked at the ring hanging from his neck, and allowed him to accompany you. Something told you he was carrying some regret about not being able to protect someone once. Plus he had already punched your address into the contact in his phone, so it’s not like seeing it in person put you at any greater risk. If anything, you did feel safe walking next to him. You noticed the way his eyes scanned every alley and intersection. Though you weren’t holding hands, you felt the urge to cling to him as he guided you through the rainy night.
“This is me,” you announced at the foot of a staircase leading to a well lit brick building. “I’m that one right there,” you pointed to the corner window on the third floor.
“I’ll uh, see you tomorrow,” he shifted on his heels and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Good night, Frank,” you smiled, casting one last look over your shoulder at the mysterious man before unlocking the door to let yourself in.
Frank lingered on the sidewalk, counting the seconds until he saw the light in your window flip on. He disappeared before you could check the pavement to see him still standing there.
———
You woke the morning to splitting headache and two texts from Frank.
“Good morning. Drink some water before you do anything.”
“Heard you mention you didn’t have anything to wear. Get yourself something nice.”
Attached to the second message was an apple payment for $300.
You responded immediately.
“Frank this is ridiculous. I can’t take this money from you.”
Three dots as he immediately started typing his response.
“Consider it a thank you. Been a long time since I had a night as nice as last night.”
“Well thank you back.”
“See you at 7”
You dropped your phone to your chest and stared at the ceiling. What have you gotten yourself into.
A gurgling growl from your stomach coaxed you out of bed to assemble any kind of breakfast to sop up this hangover, accompanied by a tall glass of water, doctor’s orders.
After breakfast, you showered to get the smell of last night out of your hair. When you gathered your laundry to toss in the washing machine, you caught of whiff of Frank’s cologne on your hoodie, and fished it out. For some reason, you wanted to save that little memory, and laid it across the foot of your bed while you dressed to get ready for your shopping excursion.
It was windy this week, and your eyes stung as you stepped into the brisk air. You drew your scarf a little higher up and trekked into town. There was a department store not too far from where you lived, so you decided to try there and hope for the best.
The store was almost empty, save for a few ladies holding up sweaters to their bodies to check the length of the sleeves before placing them back on the rack.
Nothing stood out to you until you found a black velvet mini dress. It had a high neck and long sleeves, and the fabric slightly sparkled in the right light. On the way to the dressing room, you spotted a pair of knee high boots cut from the same fabric. There was one pair left in your size that you grabbed to try on as well.
It fit like a glove. The expanse of your thigh that peeked out between the boots and the bottom of the dress made you look elongated and sexy.
“Not too bad,” you murmured, doing a spin to admire your figure from every angle. With a few accessories and your hair pulled back into a bun, this would do quite nicely.
On your way to the register, you stopped to pick a pair of dangly gold earrings.
There was still a good bit of daylight left before Frank was supposed to pick you up, and you found yourself feeling antsy.
“Found a dress. Want to see?”
“I’ll wait till tonight. Bet you look beautiful.”
Another wave of butterflies.
“Are you doing anything?”
“Negative.”
“Early dinner?”
“Sure thing. I’ll be there at 5.”
Though it was still early afternoon, at least you shaved a few hours off until you could see him again. You found yourself strangely looking forward to the whole evening.
Popping in your headphones, you decided to clean your apartment. You danced from room to room mopping the floors and dusting the corners. You switched your laundry to the dryer and decided to toss in your sheets while you had the momentum.
At the end of your cleaning stint, it was nearing 3:30, and you decided you could start getting ready.
You brushed your teeth, applied simple makeup, and plucked a few stray hairs while an audiobook droned on in the background. Pulling on the dress once again, you were in love with the way it hugged your body, feeling a confidence you had been missing. A small jewelry box sat on your cluttered vanity holding not much besides a few pieces your mother had given you.
Carefully, you fished out the tennis bracelet and matching necklace that would perfectly complement the earrings you had picked up today. The last thing to do was pull your hair into a loose bun at the base of your neck. You pulled a few strands out to frame your face, and heard the buzzer to your apartment.
“You’re early,” you teased.
“Need me to walk around the block and come back?”
Without answering, you buzzed him in.
Suddenly, the butterflies were back. You did a once over in the mirror and sprayed on your perfume right when you heard a gentle knock at your door.
Without looking through the peephole, you unlatched the door to let Frank inside.
He smiled and presented a bouquet of flowers to you.
“Well hello,” you tried to conceal the heat that was rising to your face.
“My ma told me to always bring a lady flowers,” he shrugged as if it wasn’t an incredibly sweet gesture for two near strangers.
“And mine taught me to send thank you notes, so expect one this week,” you smiled turning to get them in a vase before the two of you left for the evening.
Angel, your small white cat mewled pitifully at Frank who bent down to scratch behind her ears.
You filled a vase with water and set the bouquet into it, carefully rearranging a few stems. It was a beautiful palette of whites and oranges.
“Do you still need a minute?”
“I just need my boots and coat,” you replied, rounding the corner out of the kitchen and skidding by him in mismatched ankle socks that he found incredibly endearing.
You sat on the edge of the overstuffed ottoman by the chair at the door and pulled the boots up your long legs, zipping them and brushing a bit of lint off of them. Frank looked away, turning to pretend to admire your wall art instead.
“What do you think?” You asked nervously fidgeting with the hem.
“I think you look like a million bucks,” he said quietly. He held his hand out for you to grab and do a little spin.
“Try three hundred,” you winked and he cracked a nervous laugh. Moving his hand up to run it over his chin and try to conceal his smitten smile.
“I think you look good enough to make that doofus see he’s missing out.”
“You clean up nice yourself,” you pulled your long black coat out of the closet and Frank wordlessly held it open for you to slip your arms into.
Frank was also in all black, sporting a button down and tie with jeans with some chelsea boots that looked new, or like something he only pulled out for special occasions. On top of it all he had a leather jacket that fit him like a glove.
“We’re so in sync we matched. We already have that couple telepathy,” you joked, grabbing your bag and dropping your phone in next to your keys. “Bye, Angel,” you cooed to your cat, leaning down to offer your nose that she gently pressed her own into.
Christ that was cute.
“I got us a table at a place close to the party,” he explained on the way down to his truck.
“You’re quite the planner,” you said sounding impressed.
“Something like that that,” he mumbled, closing your door behind you and making his way to the driver’s seat.
Though old, he kept his truck in perfect condition. There was an air freshener shaped like a tree hanging from the mirror, the windshield was spotless, and the floor mats even looked recently vacuumed. The radio played classic rock low through the speakers as you made light conversation on the way to the restaurant. You kept reminding yourself this wasn’t a real date. This was all just part of the act. You might not even see him after tonight, so why were you so nervous?
Frank turned on the charm over dinner, bantering with the waitstaff and ordering expensive wine for you to share. You started to wonder where he got this seemingly never ending supply of money and why he was spending it on you of all people. He was polite, paid cash, left generous tips. The thought of him being in the mob crossed your mind.
Frank checked the watch on his wrist, “It’s almost showtime. You need another minute?”
You finished off the glass of wine in front of you and exhaled, “Let’s just get this over with.”
Frank helped you into your jacket once more and offered you a firm hand to hold as you stepped over the threshold of the restaurant. His manners also never seemed to be in short supply. You bet to everyone else, you looked like a normal couple on a normal night out, not two strangers on a mission to scorn your ex. It was fun to pretend that this was for real.
You were quiet on the drive to the party, absentmindedly picking at what remained of your nail polish and wishing you had thought to repaint your nails.
Frank could sense your nerves.
“Just say the word and we can go.”
You looked over to meet his intense gaze.
“I can tell this is tearin’ ya up. So if you want to forget this whole thing, we can leave now. I’m sorry I even suggested it.”
“No, no I think this will be good for me. I need to face them. Thank you though,” you smiled sincerely.
Frank parked a few blocks down. He pulled the key from the ignition and exhaled.
“Ready when you are.”
“Let’s get it over with,” you sighed, reaching down for your purse.
Frank rushed out to open your door before you could even think about touching it.
“My lady,” he smiled charmingly as he offered you an arm down.
“Frankie, you’re too good to me,” you leaned against his arm, and he felt his throat tighten at your closeness.
“Their names are Beck and Dawn,” you whispered as you made your way to their stairs.
“Which is which?” He asked in earnest.
You tried to conceal a snicker as you let yourself in.
The halls were crowded with a number of faces you didn’t recognize and a few you did. Old classmates and colleagues, friends of Beck’s.
Less than a minute in and you already felt like you were suffocating.
You fished a card out of your purse and dropped it on a table that seemed to be collecting gifts and well wishes.
“Let’s get this over with,” you turned your head up to whisper to him.
Frank helped you out of your jacket and laid it next to his on a chair, then rested his hand on the small of your back. You tried to not think about the warmth of his skin and the width of his palm as you headed into the kitchen, exchanging a few polite greetings.
“They’re over there, but I want them to come to us,” you leaned up to whisper again.
Frank turned into you and nuzzled his nose against yours in a way that made you dizzy.
“She’s looking at us,” he whispered against your earlobe. His breath was hot on your neck, and for a second you thought about turning around and shoving your tongue down his throat to really sell it.
Frank’s hands lighted on your hips and he leaned in to whisper again, “You look sexy as hell. Don doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“Dawn is the girl,” you hissed through a giggle.
“I told you I can’t tell the difference,” he laughed genuinely and both of your faces were lit up as Dawn and Beck made their way to you.
“Hey you!” Beck drew you into an awkward side hug.
“We didn’t think you would show,” Dawn said with a hint of true shock in her voice.
“Oh we were already in the neighborhood so we figured we might as well,” you shrugged. “This is Frank,” you smiled with a hand pressed to his side as the other was wrapped around his back.
Frank gave Beck a firm handshake, firmer than he should have but he couldn’t resist. When Beck drew his hand back and shook it out he asked, “Are you military, Frank?”
“Retired marine.”
“Oh hey, semper fi.”
Frank stared at him blankly. He could tell from everything about this goon that he had never served anything but overpriced coffee.
“Funny how life works out, huh?” Dawn forced a smile as she caressed Beck’s lacking bicep. Frank tried and failed to not feel incredibly superior to both of them.
“Yeah I’d say we both found people who deserve us,” you volleyed back.
Frank’s grip on your waist tightened in a possessive way that flooded you with heat as he and Beck seemed to be in a silent stare down.
Feeling bold you decided to say one more thing, “I hope you drive each other crazy. You truly deserve it.”
Beck started to say something, but you took long strides to the exit, leaving him behind once and for all. Frank shrugged and raised his eyebrows as if he had nothing else to add, following you back to the car.
Tomorrow they would open a card addressed to them congratulating Dawn on once again stealing something that belonged to you.
In your rush to leave, you left your jacket and were met with an unpleasant gust of wind.
Frank followed behind you a moment later, holding your jacket open to step into once again.
“My savior,” you murmured. Your heart was still pounding as nearly a decade of feeling looked over and plotted against settled in your throat. Hot tears spilled down your cheeks before you had a chance to convince them not to.
“Hey, hey. None of that,” Frank said softly, swiping the tears away with rough knuckles.
You stood on the stoop trying to compose yourself, and buried your face in Frank’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you without hesitation and settled his feet to become a wall against the biting wind.
“Not that I mind holding ya, but do you wanna go somewhere else away from these assholes?”
“Yes please,” you sniffed, following him back to his truck.
Once you had settled into the cab, Frank turned the heat on and adjusted the vents so you could warm your fingers beneath them.
“I’m sorry,” you started.
Frank scoffed as he prepared to chastise you.
“Not for crying, for bringing you here. I have too much baggage with both of them. It wasn’t fair to rope a stranger into all this.”
You met his gaze with a fresh wave of tears crowding your eyes.
“Couple things, sweetheart. One, you didn’t drag me anywhere. I’m not the kind of guy who does things I don’t want to do. And second, you don’t have to apologize. We’ve all got baggage. Some of us carry it with us everywhere,” he cleared his throat. “And third, I know it’s been a weird coupla days, but I’d love to not be strangers when this is all said and done.”
You searched his face and only saw things you had always longed for: patience, sincerity, adoration.
“I can tell you feel broken right now, but it won’t always feel that way. Forget those jokers. They don’t know what they’re missing. I think I walked out with the prize tonight.”
Frank licked his lips nervously and cast his eyes downward. It wasn’t like him to be so bold, but he had learned long ago that hesitating means you lose out on the best stuff life could give you.
You scooted closer to him, leaving a small space like you had in the bar. Frank scooted closer to you and closed the gap. His hands on your neck were rough and warm as he pulled you into a kiss.
He kissed like a man who had known both love and loss, passion and regret. It was tender, holy, all consuming.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that since yesterday,” he laughed against your mouth, stealing another quick kiss.
“I promise I’ll never make you wait 24 hours again,” you laughed back.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he drew his hands back and started pressing buttons on his watch.
“What are you doing?”
“Settin’ a timer,” he smiled, not meeting your eyes as he moved the small dials with his large fingers.
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Change of Heart
hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 1
tw: mentions of suicide, alcohol use
When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you’re too stubborn to bail out.
You tapped your fingers anxiously against your knee underneath the table, the tea you ordered growing cold as you waited. Your eyes darted around the coffee shop, thankfully rather empty apart from an older couple in the corner and a few schoolgirls ordering at the front counter.
You were early, so it was no surprise he wasn’t here yet, but the waiting game proved to be brutal on your mental as you checked the clock that sat perched on the wall. You could practically hear every antagonizing tick that passed with every second.
The ugly monster that reared its head rattled the thoughts consuming your mind. You were making a huge choice, one you wouldn’t turn back on, and the monster named reality was beginning to bare its teeth at you the more it set in.
The sound of your name being spoken in a gravelly voice had you snapping out of your daze, and when you looked away from the clock, you came face to face with the man in question. Tall, very tall, practically looming like the shadow of doom that seemed to wash over you the longer you stared. His face was covered with a mask, successfully hiding his face away and destroying any bouts of curiosity you may have had before this meeting. Thick arms covered by a black hoodie, the hood pulled over his head where you saw tufts of hair poking out.
“Yes. Yes, that’s me. You must be Ghost?” you confirmed woefully, voice small in comparison to his baritone one.
He gave you a curt nod before settling into the seat in front of you. He hunched into it, eyes low as he stared at you for a long moment from across the table. Eyes that kill, you thought to yourself.
“I’ll cut to the chase. Make it easy for you,” he began, and you held your breath in anticipation. “Just need a name, location, date an’ time, an’ a form of payment. Don’t need the logistics or reasonin’, just need what’s necessary.”
You swallowed nervously, shifting in your seat as you scrambled through your mind for the information.
Risking a glance at the older couple across the shop, they were in their own world, not minding the two of you. The thought lingered in the back of your mind that you were sitting here with a hitman you had hired on the dark web after months of scrounging around for one, and they were blissfully unaware of the exchange.
“Right.” You cleared your throat, sitting up and returning your gaze to his. The way he looked at you was all business, and it nearly sent a shiver down your spine.
“‘M waitin’,” he gruffed impatiently. It didn’t settle the nerves.
“Well…” You cleared your throat again, and his eyes slightly narrowed as he watched your throat bob. “It’s me, actually.”
He said nothing as he stared at you, and you briefly wondered if he’d ever gotten this request before — somebody hiring him to take them out because they were too afraid to do it themselves.
“I’d like it to be on Friday. It’s my favorite day,” you began quietly. Your hands continued to fiddle with each other under the table, picking at the skin around your nails and creating a slight sting. “Eleven PM. I’ll be going to bed by then. I’d… like it to be as painless as possible, so I’ll make sure I’m sleeping to make it easier.”
It was Monday now, so that gave you time to prepare.
Still, he said nothing, and his expression didn’t change. It was hidden beneath the mask, but his eyes were enough to convey what he was thinking — or at least, you thought it’d be enough. But they told you nothing. Blank and emotionless, like you were staring into an abyss of nothingness. A void.
Reaching into the pocket of your jacket, you pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, setting it down in front of him. It contained the address of your apartment you spent most of your time in, and would eventually spend dying in.
“I have the money. Won’t be needing it anyway, so whatever your price is, I’ll have it.”
Finishing your spiel, you expected to feel relief, but instead, you felt a mix of things you weren’t sure of. Dread? You thought you’d be comforted by finalizing the deal to end your life from the hands of another, but it certainly didn’t feel that way.
“Alright,” he agreed after the stretch of silence. He sniffed, adjusting himself in the small chair, placing his arms on the table. “You can leave the money for me in your place. ‘M sure I’ll find it anyhow.”
Releasing a breath, you nodded, watching as he took the wadded paper and shoved it in his own pocket.
“That all?”
You nodded again, mouth too dry to speak. After all, it wasn’t everyday you hired a hitman on yourself, let alone did it in the comfort of a coffee shop downtown.
“I’ll see you Friday then. Eleven PM.”
“Okay,” you breathed, watching as he stood up from the table. He gave you a nod in farewell, and your eyes followed his back as he ducked out of the coffee shop, disappearing like a shadow in the night.
Monday went. Then came Tuesday. Then Wednesday, Thursday, and eventually, Friday.
The week came and went like a breeze, and you had spent it making preparations. You told yourself it was for the best. A letter, written and rewritten over a hundred times, explaining what you did and why you did it — even if it wasn’t really you doing the job.
Life had a silly way of treating people. Everybody came from all sorts of backgrounds, some worse than others, and many came out of it alive.
You weren’t one of those people. You didn’t think you’d have the strength to succumb to the standards of basic living if it meant spending the rest of it miserable and alone.
Sitting in your apartment was a constant reminder of how void it was of any sign of life. Of course it had you, but considering you a sign of life was pushing it. You were barely hanging on by a thread, and all you were waiting for was for somebody to come around and cut the last bit with a pair of scissors so you could fully be free.
Time seemed to pass even slower when you knew death was on its way. You spent the majority of the dreadful Friday cleaning your apartment. You didn’t want Ghost to think you were a lousy slob, after all, even if part of you was — but you had your reasons. What point was there to tidy up on a regular day, when the only thing that ever filled your brain was numbness that extended to all parts of your body?
It was truly a never ending cycle, this life. You hoped that when it ended, whatever lay beyond death was much kinder than how life had treated you. The red-headed stepchild. Long forgotten, but forced to remain. It was punishment to even be alive.
When the sun fell beyond the horizon outside your window and the night sky welcomed the moon, you knew it was only a few hours until the course of your destiny would forever be altered.
You laid in bed, eyes locked on to the old ceiling of your apartment. The clock read 8:54 PM, which left approximately two hours before Ghost would arrive to finish the job. Two long, stretching hours by yourself, consumed in your own cage of a mind.
You couldn’t help that they lingered. Shifting focus between your unhappiness, your selfishness, your resentment towards the world and the people in it that had failed you. The pain brought upon you was almost too much to bear, even in these two hours of waiting.
Why had life been so unkind to you? Why you?
Nevermind that. It wouldn’t be long until you could finally get some rest, for good.
You don’t recall getting up from your bed to enter the kitchen, but you found yourself yanking open the cupboard that held an array of liquor you swore to yourself you wouldn’t touch again. It was as if your mind was in a fog, and you were acting purely out of blinded instinct.
Twisting the cap off of one of the bottles, you took a deep chug of the liquor, allowing the burn to slip down your throat and encase you with a temporary warmth.
Soon enough, that bottle became your companion in bed when you returned, sitting up against the headboard with it resting in your lap, cap lost somewhere along the journey back.
Your eyes stared blankly at the wall as you took the occasional sip, time continuing to tick by as you waited. Time stopped for no one, not even in the wake of death.
Eleven o’clock.
You were far from drunk, but you had definitely nursed the bottle enough to give you a buzz that allowed your mind to cloud over with a sense of fuzziness. It didn’t halt the thoughts from revealing themselves, but it certainly made the self deprecation easier to handle.
You hadn’t moved from your spot on the bed, nor had your eyes shifted away from the dinginess of the walls.
The faint sound of the door rattling almost went unnoticed, but even in the broken state of you, you weren’t sure you would’ve noticed it anyway. It wasn’t until that looming shadow from before had appeared next to you at your bedside that you knew what time it was.
“You’re not asleep,” Ghost gruffed out, voice quiet but nonetheless deep and void of much emotion. It was a nice voice to listen to, you thought, and it would be comforting to hear it in your final moments.
“Sorry,” you murmured quietly, finally lifting your head up to look at him. You looked a mess.
When he took in the sight of you, he could see the slight redness of your eyes, how they sunk into your skin, making you appear ghostly. Your lips were thin and chapped, pressed into a line on your face and making you look older than you were. Ghost saw a client nonetheless, but he also saw a tired girl who had reached the point of breaking. He wondered what had caused you to become this way, but it wasn’t his job to care.
“S’fine,” he huffed out, shifting his weight on his feet. “In no rush to kill you, anyway. Mind if I ‘ave a smoke?”
Ghost nodded his head towards the sliding door to your balcony, and you gave him a nod in return, watching as he walked away with a sniff. The door slid open and he went to step outside, before his eyes turned back to you.
“…Wanna join?” he asked, and you stared at him in surprise. “Figured you might enjoy one last smoke before you go about dyin’.”
You blinked dumbly before setting the bottle of liquor on your nightstand and standing up on bare feet to join him.
Outside was cold, the bitter chill causing goosebumps to rise along your skin. You joined him on the balcony, standing by his side like a lost child while he leaned against the railings.
He lifted the bottom of his mask to rest over his nose, placing a cigarette between scarred lips. The lighter illuminated the bottom portion of his face, and you stared as he took a deep inhale, letting the smoke exude out moments later.
His gloved fingers held the cigarette out towards you, and his sunken eyes watched as you took it from him. You inhaled it, feeling the burn of smoke fill your lungs and temporarily numb you for a brief second, before coughs erupted from your mouth.
“Fuck,” you breathed, eyes brimming with tears as you wiped at your mouth.
“Never smoked before?” he asked, and if he was amused, he didn’t show it.
“No,” you confessed grimly, handing him the cigarette, which he took gently. “Alcohol’s more my thing.”
“Mm.”
You stood in silence as he puffed on the stick, eyes casted out to the city around you. It was quiet despite the lit up buildings cascading a faint glow around the two of you, and for once, you felt peaceful.
“Must be going through quite the trouble if you’re askin’ somebody else to kill you,” he spoke after a pregnant pause in conversation. It snapped you out of your daze, and you turned your head to look at him. He didn’t look back. “Coulda just took a bunch of pills an’ called it a day.”
His words had you feeling a bit dumb, and you looked away from him, feeling a frown form on your face. You knew he was right. You could’ve just done it yourself instead of getting another person wrapped up in it, even if it was his job.
But you were weak. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, couldn’t pull the trigger, couldn’t open the pill bottle, couldn’t throw yourself over the balcony.
“Must not really wanna die all that much if you can’t do it yourself.”
“I do.”
He chuckled, but it was so quiet, it got taken away with the breeze.
“Who are you tryin’ to convince?”
You stared at him in stunned silence, unsure of how to defend yourself. You knew how much pain you were in, and you knew you wanted it to end. But you also knew how much of a weak link you were to your own mind, and how much stronger you could be if you had just put in the effort to get better.
After all, alcohol only solved problems temporarily until they ended up creating more of them.
“I don’t really feel like killin’ you. Pretty girl like yourself doesn’t deserve a fate like that, much less from somebody like me,” he started, taking a pause to inhale another breath of smoke. “So how ‘bout I cut you a deal?”
“A deal?” you asked, frowning at him. “Isn’t it your job to kill, no questions asked?”
“Mm. That it is,” he confessed with a careless shrug. “But I’m not completely heartless.”
That was comical, coming from him. People hired him to kill whoever they requested, no strings attached, and no evidence left behind. He was a hitman, it was his entire livelihood to do just that, yet here he was, cutting you a damn deal.
“…What kind of deal?” You couldn’t help but be a bit curious.
For the first time since meeting, his lips quirked into a smile. It was small, barely noticeable, but in the dim lighting of the butt of the cigarette as it burned, combined with the glow of the city around you, you could see it.
“Two weeks,” he said, shifting his eyes to you. “I’ll give you two weeks to figure out what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours. If you’re still wantin’ to die, then I’ll do it for you. If not, then congratulations. You live to see another day.”
Two weeks to convince yourself to not want to die? The idea seemed silly to you. You had already went through the trouble of finding a hitman, hiring him, and coming up with a payment for when he completed the job of killing you. Wasn’t that convincing enough?
Still, though. You might’ve been a broken woman with little dreams and little remedies, but you were also stubborn. If he wanted to wait two weeks to try and prove you wrong, you’d gladly accept the challenge.
“Okay.” You nodded, tapping your fingers along the railings mindlessly. “It’s a deal, Ghost. Two weeks, and then you’ll be sure to kill me.”
He huffed out a laugh through his nose and extended a gloved hand for you to shake, cigarette hanging from his lips.
“Deal.”
starting another au when i already have one ongoing but this came to me in the middle of the night and i literally woke up mid sleep and was like, good lord i wanna write that!!! so i did 🤌🏻
#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x reader#hitman au#cod fanfic
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Bob From Pi Kapp | Robert "Bob" Floyd
While this can be enjoyed on it's own, the recommended reading on the syllabus for this class is Bob From Stats before proceeding.
Summary: First he's late to chapter, and now Bob is late to your Stats final. You saved him a seat. But should you also save one for his hobby horse?
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY as always, f!reader, no use of y/n, smuttttttt, goofy frat behavior, the other Daggers do make a brief appearance
A Note From Mo: Happy Start of the School Year! It wouldn't feel quite like autumn without checking in with our favourite frat boy-turned-cowboy and what shenanigans the Pi Kapps are getting up to. Can anyone guess what unforgettable moment in TV history inspired this second part to stats!Bob?
It’s unfair how good he looks laying between your thighs.
Sandy hair disheveled, glasses fogged at the rim. Chest heaving beneath thin cotton, catching his breath after a marathon make out session in your cramped dorm bed. There’s still three sections left in the review material, but Bob’s only now coming up for air as an alarm sounds and he reluctantly sits up.
Your hands reach out trying to pull him back into your embrace. He playfully swats them away, unwillingly having to extricate himself. Your fingers catch in the hem of his shirt, twisting in the fabric.
“I have to go!” He jovially laughs, returning your grabby hand back as he wiggles into his sweatshirt. “I have chapter - a non-negotiable, remember?”
While you sarcastically cross your arms and hmph at him, he knows you aren’t actually angry. Disappointed, sure, but how could you be mad at those big round blue puppy eyes? Especially after he’s been attached to your lips since he swung by after lecture hours ago. You’ve started having a Pavlovian response every time he asks if you ‘want to study’.
Sitting up, you take your study buddy in, straightening his clothes before having to mad dash to Greek Row. He’s all long limbs and sturdy shoulders, the thick tendons of his fingers showing off the strength that he exhibits every time you get him into bed. That trucker hat is already back on his head and your eyes wander to his freshly shaven jaw and neck.
“Bob, you can’t go to chapter like that.”
He stops in his tracks and his brows crease in confusion, glasses highlighting his cornflower eyes. “It’s not a formal thing, jeans are fine. But I gotta go, there’s a fine if I’m late and I have perfect attendance.”
You shake your head and walk him the three steps over to the wardrobe in your tiny dorm, the full-length mirror on the side barely lit by the florescent bulb. Bob fills out the entire view, the mirror barely tall enough to capture above his torso, but just enough for you to gently hook your fingers into the soft heather collar of his sweatshirt. You don’t even have to tug for him to see the glaring concern.
Mottled along the left side of his neck are three mouth-shaped mauve bruises. They’ve only just begun to bloom, but against his creamy skin they stand out like stop signs. You didn’t think you had been sucking so hard. Or bitten so deep.
“I think they look kind of pretty.” He’s teasing, but you’re mortified.
Bob kisses your heated cheek, gathering his hood around his neck. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll hunch my shoulders and no one will be the wiser.” At this point he’s used to his roommates pointing out the signs of affection you leave on him every week.
You’re still hot from embarrassment twenty minutes later, curled on your little dorm bed reading through your organic chemistry textbook. Though part of that may be from the lingering kiss he gave you before promising to text you after. It’s not your fault he’s perfectly adorable and fuckable - you’re only human.
Beside you, a small ping interrupts your (distracted) studying. It’s a text from Bob, slightly earlier than planned.
BF: They may have noticed 😬
His Pi Kapp brothers not only noticed the arrangement of love bites along his neck - you were lying to yourself if you thought they were in any way subtle - and the house of frat boys were now taking turns lining up to get photos with Love Bite Bob for posterity. Plus he was a minute late to chapter.
You’re still giggling to yourself when you turn off the light for the night. The photo of your boyfriend’s cherry red face matching your indecent markings, a swarm of Pi Kapp sweatshirts and backwards baseball caps in the background, and mischievous grins filling every corner of your dreams.
Students mill past you, filing into the atrium of the lecture hall with a buzz of misery and despair around them. Finals Week. Every backpack in sight is heavy with textbooks and over a dozen weeks worth of notes. Your last neon highlighter died last night from overuse.
Amongst the throng of students also dreading your Stats final, you have yet to see that vintage trucker hat Bob has been sporting since September. It seems off-brand that he wouldn’t be early, broad back already hunched over in that cramped seat with his calculator and an apprehensive smile.
The last few weeks of sitting next to each other have been exquisite - elbows bumping in his new desk next to yours, thighs brushing in those impossibly close seats. It’s a part of your routine at this point. Bob still lends you a pencil, but you barely take any notes once the toe of his sneaker runs along your shin and suddenly you two are playing footsie like teenagers.
It’s been a horny remaining nine weeks of Stats. It was lucky that Bob was as studious as he was or you’d have gotten nothing done, stealing kisses between flashcards. Not to mention the glorious hour he spent with his head buried between your thighs while you memorized formulas, swearing he’d only leave your clit alone after you could recite them backwards.
And yet he was missing from your very last class together. The last chance to borrow a pencil and brush elbows for an hour like foreplay. Where was he?
Wanting to get yourself settled, you resign to entering the lecture hall and sitting beside Anna in one of the front rows. She gives you a sympathetic look at your dejected grimace. Your dorm room has been a testament to many a study night as of late, the two of you swapping sticky notes and notes like candy. The hall titters with students chatting as you not-so-subtly keep checking the door for latecomers, the seconds ticking down before those heavy doors shut.
The seat beside you is still empty when the teaching assistant shuts the oak doors, signaling the exam’s start.
Your professor stands at the front of the lecture hall holding a tall stack of booklets and gives a wicked grin. “Who’s ready to see what they actually learned about probability this semester?”
A collective groan sounds out and he sinisterly laughs before starting up the ancient projector. The bustle of pens and paper disappear when the loud thunk of the lecture hall doors slam open, bouncing off the sturdy brick walls and turning every head at the latecomer.
Giggles, snorts, and neighing all blend together as the cavernous lecture hall bustles with noise. Your head whips around to catch the commotion, eyes widening in surprise.
Five men in auxiliary blue Pi Kapp sweatshirts and their own hobby horses (featuring a rather familiar Appaloosa) come galloping down the stairs, heading straight for the center stage. Standing front and center in beat up cowhide boots, a well-used felt Stetson, and tight jeans is none other than your favorite frat cowboy, blue-eyed Bob from Stats.
His posse of Greek lettered faux cowboys stand around him, jostling each other’s shoulders and pretending to calm their steeds. Your professor patiently waits behind the pulpit, curious how this will play out with the exam he’s supposed to be proctoring. You’re gripping your seat in confusion and anticipation.
Once the raucous laughter has died down, Pi Kapp President Jake Seresin makes a show of steadying his hobby horse once more while three fellow cowboys spread out across the room, casually milling through the aisles with their wooden horses clanging between their jean-clad knees. Looking more like a lamb at slaughter all by himself, Bob calmly holds his own, knuckles rolling over the handles of his ‘horse’. Jake grins at his Pi Kapp brother before turning to his captive audience.
“Howdy, pard’ners!” The blonde’s voice booms in the cavernous hall. Various greetings yell out from all over the rows, Anna throwing in her own Howdy.
This is crazy. Anna looks at you for answers, but you have none. Whatever is going on, Pi Kappa Phi Ranch has invaded your Stats final.
Their president makes a show of quieting the room, hand hauntingly on his hip. “So, we’ve been traveling all over this here Wild West looking for something.”
Reuben Fitch, a Pi Kapp brother and one of Bob’s roommates, stands tall at the top of the steps and calls back to him, “And what is that something, Brother Seresin?”
“Glad you asked. We’re looking for a cowgirl.”
The name catches your attention. Your blood runs cold and by default your eyes flash to Bob, hoping to find the answers in those wide, truthful ultramarine eyes. But he continues to stare boldly ahead, letting his brothers put on their show.
Giddily clomping around with the stick of his black mare clacking on the stairs, Mickey Garcia raucously yells out, “So let’s look for her!”
Suddenly the four men are traipsing around the spacious room pretending to ride their horses, the hundreds of seats no match for their speed as they run up and down aisles, zipping through seats and over student’s knees.
“Not here!”
“Not here!”
“Not here!”
Heat creeps along your skin as you feel Jake’s right hand man, Javy Machado, lock in on you, the squeak of his sneakers and thwack of his horse against the ground alerting his arrival. Your eyes bore into the side of Bob’s head - spectacles still facing forward - as every classmate watches the frat boy descend. Javy stops only feet from where you’re clutching the edge of your desk.
“This one here looks like she could be a real ol’ cowgirl!” Javy’s horrible Western accent and shit eating grin are begging to be smacked off his face. He turns toward the familiar Stetson and puts both hands around his mouth as he hollers. “Hey Floyd, found a cowgirl for you!”
That sweet face finally turns to you. Adrenaline floods your nervous system as every pair of eyes in the hall watches his boots clack up the stairs and past the seats until he’s standing in the row before yours, craning over the wooden chair with delicately pink cheeks. From this angle, those cerulean eyes are level with yours. And boy, are they nervous.
His voice is wobbly, but the script is practiced. “Howdy, little lady. Hiding in plain sight, weren’t ya?”
You both know you’ve sat in the same spot since that first day he lent you a pencil.
“Didn’t realize you needed an entire fraternity to find your study buddy.” Your hand waves at the four faux cowboys standing at the end of your row, looking entirely too pleased with themselves. Despite the fact that you’re as timid as him under the stares of your fellow students, you can’t help but be a little sassy and theatrical after the production you just witnessed.
That soft grin comes out to play, always amused by your fire. “I do when I have a question for you.”
The smirk on your face wipes clean. A question? There’s a flutter in the air as students turn to each other, anxious to know what quiet little Bob Floyd has been keeping to himself. Even your professor is leant forward on his elbow patches, brow quirked in interest.
You swallow slowly before responding, barely over a whisper, “What do you want to know?”
Time and space stop as he holds your gaze. So soft and affectionate, as if you are the stars in his night sky. The same hazy look he gave you in that hall closet weeks ago that made you unable to ever look back. He licks his lips, warm hand sliding over yours on the peeling wooden desktop. His eyes are so impossibly open.
“Will you do the honor of being my date to the Pi Kappa Phi spring formal, cowgirl?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Relief tingles through your extremities as your brain starts up again. The pounding of your heart backs up your smart response.
“Only if you let me borrow your boots for dancing.”
Your response settles, then suddenly all around you there’s whoops and hollers. To your left, four hobby horses are whipped into the air and twirled like batons. Mickey yells out, “Yeehaw!”
And yet all you can focus on is the wide grin that’s stretched out Bob’s face, his lean body still bent over the row before yours. You know the same smile is etched on your own jaw as your fingers intertwine. He’s so utterly ridiculous and self-assured. The perfect pairing of endearing. You can’t get enough.
You really wish everyone wasn’t watching so you could kiss him.
“Alright, alright, settle down. We do have a final to get to, if Mr. Floyd would like to take his seat.”
Handing off his trusty steed to his cowboy brothers, Bob takes the hint and makes his way around the row toward you, long legs effortlessly vaulting the nailed-in desks. He stops at the knobby wooden seat next to you and gestures, as if to ask Is this free? The corners of your mouth can’t help but upturn once more as you nod, letting your handsome Bob from Pi Kapp slip into the seat and knock his knee against yours.
You lean in, letting your lips brush against the lobe of his ear. “Not that I wasn’t entertained, but what was all that?”
He shoots you the most blinding grin, the sides of his drowningly blue eyes crinkling behind perfectly straight wire frames.
“My punishment for being late to chapter - they got to choose how I asked you to spring formal.”
Your jaw slackens as your eyes trail over to where his brethren are slinking out the heavy hall doors with their wooden steeds over their shoulders. Those cruel bastards. Your hand reaches out to stroke Bob’s still pinkened cheeks, fingers resting along his jaw to imitate soothing his wounded ego.
“One last yeehaw for Cowboy Bob for the semester, huh?” He guffaws out a laugh and kisses your cheek.
The stack of little blue booklets makes their way over again and Bob grabs one before passing your way. His eyes are glued to you, unable to stop his affectionate attention after putting himself out on the line like that. You open your mouth to say something, but stop when the significance of it hits you. It’s the last time.
The words form out of muscle memory. “Can I borrow a pencil?”
The air between you is sickeningly sweet as he reaches down and grabs two from his bag, handing you the sharper point. You give him a gooey smile as your fingers brush. Test nerves and bittersweet affection trickle down your spine. Who would have thought your hardest class all semester would bring such joy?
For the next ninety minutes your eyes stay strictly on your own booklet, but you can’t help but feel the radiant energy off the guy in a cowboy hat and fraternity sweatshirt and his knee that somehow keeps knocking yours.
“Slow down, cowgirl! I need a minute to recover,” Bob breathily begs from beneath you, where you’re still grinding your hips into his, one arm braced on his chest and the other against your peeling dorm wall. That damn cowboy hat is somewhere on the floor and his skin has evolved into an exerted red from the two orgasms he’s already stolen from you.
You playfully roll your eyes and mutter something about bucking broncos before stilling, still so full of him. You delicately press a kiss to his sweaty cheek, your bare chest against his, timpani heartbeats synchronized.
“While I have you,” you start, and he booms out a laugh, his cock still nestled tightly inside you. “How were you going to ask me to spring formal before?”
He’s so cute when he plays dumb. “Before what?”
“Before the guys made you publicly humiliate yourself to the point you can never take a Stats class again.”
Bob presses his lips together, warm hand smoothing over your hips as he weighs his response. Which is hard when you smell like sex and sweat and that fragrance he can’t quite identify the undertones of but has him dizzy. It’s a miracle he can pull himself away from you sometimes.
“You can’t just be happy knowing that I can never show my face in that building again?”
You reach down to the floor and pick up the worn Stetson, plopping it on your own head. You give him a stern look, stabbing your finger into his chest. He has a hard time being intimidated when his vision is centered on your breasts pressed together so deliciously. “Tell me or I’m sending you to cowboy jail.”
He raises his neck and pecks the tops of your breasts, just how he knows you like. With a joking frown, you grab him by the nape of his neck and stare him down.
“Fine, fine,” Bob laughs deep from his chest. He looks so joyous, the whiff of sex and amorousness coloring him so beautifully. “If you really want to know.”
As you settle in to listen, the reality is that it doesn’t really matter his original plan. It’s that he even wants to go with you, that he’s just as far gone as you’ve been the last fifteen weeks. That one silly pencil would start something worth delaying a Stats final fifteen minutes and continue to another semester.
You just hope one day he’ll get you your own hobby horse.
Massive shoutout to all the Internet besties who keep the stats!Bob brainrot fresh - wouldn't get anything done without all you amazing peeps!
taglist: @berryvanille @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @cosmoeticss @creatchie8 @desert-fern @drxgxnslxyer @hangmanapologist @hiireadstuff @himbos-on-ice @jaguarthecat @jessicab1991 @just-in-case-iloveyou @kmc1989 @littlemsbumblebee @mariaenchanted @maryelizabeth13 @midnightmagpiemama @m3ndacious @nerdgirljen @nouis-bum @petersunderoos96 @roosterforme @seitmai @senawashere @smoothdogsgirl @sometimesanalice @sorchathered @spidervman @sweetwhispersofchaos @sydsommersss @tastefulregularthots @theamuz @topherwrites @xoxabs88xox @yuckosworld
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ON THIN ICE
based off of this & this
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: nate gets into a fight during a hockey game, but has an idea to make him feel better.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, fighting, begging kink, p in v, public, spanking, choking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (don’t be silly!), cream pie, overstimulation, dumbification, ROUGHH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 928
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day TWO of nate week!
THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 3K??? I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING OMG❤️❤️
whistles blow from left to right from the referees, hockey players from both teams trying to pull away the two boys fighting in the middle of the rink. one of the two boys is your boyfriend, nate.
during the game, you have noticed nate getting a bit disgruntled with a player on the opposing team. suddenly, they stopped in the middle of the rink to talk. in the blink of an eye, nate pounced on him. something must have ticked him off. bad.
murmurs are heard from around the bleachers, the group of people finally pulling the two boys apart. sadly, nate got the red card.
he throws his stick and helmet in a fit of rage as he sits on the bench. he hunches over, taking off his skates and throwing those somewhere too. the game continues after that brief mishap, but your eyes are still set on nate.
he’s angry, face is red while talking to himself. you watch as he gets up to go outside, and you soon follow him. “nate!” you call out, watching as the boy marches toward his car.
hands in fists, he keeps walking until you finally catch up to him. “nate.” you repeat, grabbing his wrists and turning him around.
the way his jaw clenches looks like it’s about to fall off its hinges. his chest still heaves from anger, his eyes looking into yours. “what happened?” you ask calmly.
“nothing,” he responds with bitterness.
you don’t believe that for shit. “what did he say to you?”
“nothing,” he says with a bit more attitude, but then he exhales because it’s you he’s talking to.
since nobody likes to see their boyfriend mad, you cross your arms and sigh. “what can i do to help?”
his eyebrows raise slightly, a smirk appearing on his face. he nudges his head to the hood of his car. “shut up and bend over.”
you gasp when your upper body slams onto the car, hands getting pinned behind your back. nate thought you were taking too long with his command, so he took matters into his own hands.
heart pounding, he takes off your pants, licking his lips and biting them at the view. you wince, the breeze of the night hitting your bare pussy so suddenly.
taking his thumbs, he spreads your folds to admire it. smiling like a fool knowing he can’t have nor feel it. you belong to nate, and he’s going to make sure everybody fucking knows that.
“nate—” you pout, a hand making contact on your ass cutting your words off. you let out a quiet sob. “s-somebody can see.”
“that’s the fucking point. i want people to see,” he says through gritted teeth, smacking your ass once more. with his unoccupied hand, he unties his uniform shorts and slides them down. his tip just about touches your clit, causing you to buck your hips back. “ah, ah, ah. beg for it.”
“please,” you whisper.
spank.
he didn’t like that.
“please.” you cry out louder. “f-fuck me, please. fuck me like you own me. i want to feel your cock, baby. please… i-i’m all for you.”
he licks his teeth and grins, grabbing onto your throat. “that’s my girl.”
your nails dig into his knuckles when he hammers into you; like he’s taking his anger out. because the stretch was so sudden, pained moans leave your lips. he hums approvingly behind you, watching the way your ass recoils off of his thighs. the slapping noise echoes throughout the dark parking lot.
“nate, fuck!” you yelp, the car rocking along with your body movements. “holy—” you pause, eyes rolling back so hard that you see black. his grip on your neck tightens so he can lift your head to look at your reflection in the window.
your wanton expression only makes him move faster, tears running down your face from the force. he snarls, the guy’s voice bouncing back and forth in his brain.
“is that your girl up there? wonder how much she’ll scream for me if i fucked her, instead.”
you’re moaning nonstop, body twitching and shaking the moment he hits numerous spots inside you. “you want to know what that mother fucker said to me?” he rasps out, pinching your clit that makes you jolt but nod. “he said he wanted to fuck you instead. he can’t do that now, can he? do you know why?”
you moan, dropping your forehead onto the hood while nate fucks you dumb. “oh— oh— oh my god, right there! don’t stop, baby… please.”
clenching, his hand leaves another hit on your ass. “answer me.”
“b-because i’m all yours.” you whimper, clenching around his dick again. “i-i’m cumming! please let me cum!”
“that’s right.” he starts, twitching inside of you as his thrusts get sloppier by the second. “let everybody know whose cock you’re screaming and cumming on.”
sobbing from pleasure, you squeeze your orgasm down his shaft. “i need you to be way louder than that, beautiful. i want him to hear you.”
“nathan! i-it hurts too good.” you cry, tears staining your cheeks.
“going to have you walk back in there with my cum dripping down your thighs. how does that sound?”
you can only nod in response, his hips stopping to fill you up with his cum. if it weren’t for him holding onto you, you would’ve fallen over by now from how weak your legs are.
he pulls out slowly, your eyes fluttering when you feel him ooze out of you. that definitely took the heat off.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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#nate doe#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nathan doe#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#nate doe fanfic#nate doe smut
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Can I request an ateez yeosang x reader smut where he gets her to squirt for the first time and she slips into subspace? Etc?
embarrassed for me name to be there so here's an emoji
🐈⬛
23:52 • sᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ (NSFW)
♡ softdom!boyfriend!Yeosang x sub!girlfriend!reader
♡ comfort, domestic, smut
♡ WC • 4009
♡ Warnings!! (tags) • unprotected sex, size kink, deflowering, subspace, praise, oral (f/r), overstimulation, edging, squirting, pet names, marking, multiple positions, afab reader, swearing, aftercare. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)
♡ A/N: my first request! Thank you anonnie! 🫶🫶 I hope this was to your liking. and something for @shinestarhwaa while you wait for the wooyoung fic 😚.
♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ
♡*♡∞:。.。 ♡*♡∞♡*♡∞:。.。 。.。:∞♡*♡ 。.。:∞♡*♡ 。.。:∞♡*♡
Your eyes were on the white ceiling, occupying yourself by looking at the slight texture of it. You tried focusing on the sound of the city below your apartment, but you quite couldn’t do that much when the sound filling the room was Yeosang slurping away at your pussy, his tongue alternating between curling inside your hole and swirling around your clit.
He had your legs hunched over his shoulders, your inner thighs adorned with love bites, and his drying saliva. Your outer thighs felt the chill of your room, meanwhile, his body in between them made you all the warmer. Your hands travelled up his hoodie that you had on, playing at your tits.
Yeosang’s rough hands kneaded at your love handles, running down the rolls of your waist inside the hoodie, and down to your exposed hips. All while making out with your throbbing clit.
Propping himself up, he sucked on his fingers, and carefully put a finger inside you. You exhaled deeply, hiding in the comfort of the hood as he proceeded to stretch your hole out. First with his middle finger, then adding his ring, and eventually his index. He scissored and made ‘threes’ inside your hole, making sure to stretch you out enough for what was to come later.
He kissed your pelvis soothingly as he did, then licked a stripe up your clit, flicking it with the tip of his skillful tongue. You moved to pet his fluffy black hair, being met with his soft puppy-like eyes that are so perfectly complemented by the heart-shaped birthmark on his left eye. He let you pet him for a moment before gently grabbing your hips with both hands, sitting you up, and helping you onto your tummy, but you paused for a moment.
“What’s the matter, little one?” he cocked his head, speaking to you in that nauseously careful tone of his. You fumbled with the hem of his hoodie, and he hummed. “Off?” you nodded silently, raising your arms above your head as he slipped it off you. Once it came off you then laid onto your front, the sheets caressing your bare skin, not so much the cold air that determined to leave goosebumps on your arms and back though.
You could hear Yeosang behind you, the rustling of him taking off his sweats and the soft thud of it landing after he discarded it carelessly in a random area of your room. His underwear came next, you didn't want to turn your head and look at what he’d been hiding all this time, maybe it might intimidate you, and you didn’t want to back out of this, not when you were already to that point.
Your head rested in your nestled arms. He moved your hair out of the way from your back, as he ran his soft hands up and down your spine. You shivered at his feather-light touches, along with the overwhelming comfort of the fluffy sheets below, melting into your nude front.
“Sweet girl,” Yeosang whispered, caging you between his arms as he propped himself planked on the bed. He kept his tone soft and quiet so as to not disrupt the comfortable silence in the room. He then caged your legs between his and leaned down close to your head. You could feel his warm breath fanning the side of your face and neck. “Tell me if it’s too much. Alright, little one?” he cooed at you, and you nodded softly.
Yeosang set himself on his elbows, nuzzling into your neck as he gently pushed into your tight hole. He had more girth than the small toys you regularly used, making you whimper slightly at the foreign size. He wasn’t even halfway through when he paused, worried at your noise of discomfort. His hand reached around to hold yours, cooing soothing words to you.
You shook your head when Yeosang asked if you wanted to stop. “Jus’ not used to it,” you mumbled into the pillow. He nodded silently in understanding, leaving a gentle squeeze on the hand that he held as he started to push in the rest of his cock. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out, his length slowly expanding your hymen till it tears.
Feeling your hymen tear you squeezed his hand. It didn’t hurt much, but you paused nonetheless. He was bigger inside you than you thought he would be, and your eyebrows creased as you attempted to adjust to him.
“Shh,” Yeosang pets your hair, his lips against your head. “Easy, easy… you’re alright, little one,” he murmurs, kissing your head softly. You can feel his balls firmly against your pussy lips, adding a new warmth to your already furnaced heat. Your walls locked him in snugly. The plush, gummy-like texture caressed his veins. You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, it was hard to ease yourself.
“You’re squeezing me so tight baby, you’re so tense,” your boyfriend attempted to soothe you, moving his hands to caress and massage at your sides and hips. “Ease up for me, angel,” he murmurs, the husk in his voice coming deep from his throat.
It was hard to follow as he told you, as you could feel Yeosang bulging out of your tummy. Nonetheless, you took a deep breath as you slowly unclenched around him, making him sigh in relief. He wouldn’t admit it to you but the tightness of you clamping down on him so aggressively like a vice caused him a bit of discomfort and pain. Not really any man admits to it, to hold their pride in the bedroom, but yeosang held his discomfort in to make you feel more comfortable around him. He didn’t want you to panic over causing him pain when he was the one taking care of you.
“You ready for me to move, little angel?” He asks gently, resting back down onto his elbows. You gave it a few more seconds before nodding softly, reaching behind you to hold his hand. Taking the hint he laid both your hands at the sides of your head, interlacing his from behind. Languidly, he started to move, very carefully pulling back his hips before slowly dipping back in.
His pelvis met your ass. Warm skin meeting each other before departing a few inches and meeting again after a few seconds. Yeosang guided you to take deep breaths, with each gentle thrust in and out. Fluttering your eyes shut you burrowed your face into your pillow, inhaling and exhaling deeply through your nose.
Though it was quiet in the room the squelching reverberation of your intimates grinding together made your ears ring. The longer you adjusted to his cock the more he felt fitted inside you, his strokes feeling more pleasurable. He moved fluidly, rolling his hips into you instead of going straight and stiff. You could feel each pant of his warm breath against your neck, trying to hold himself back from fucking you senseless. You just felt too good. With a hum, he asked-
“How is that for you my love?”
You nodded, letting out a small ‘good, Sangie’ before asking if he could pick up the pace now that you were more comfortable. Yeosang spread out his legs more and locked his legs around yours, planking himself up now on his hands, still laced with yours. Once adjusted he gave a few experimental thrusts before starting to move at a more moderate pace, soft claps now beginning to echo throughout the room as you released a quiet moan into the pillow below. Taking in the pleasured tone, he released his right hand from yours, placing his hand onto the headboard as he continued with his pace, still paying attention to your reactions.
Every thrust that was deep enough he noticed you flutter around him and micro-orgasm, taking note of how your noises sounded more sweet and higher in volume. Every little detail mattered to him. Yeosang’s eyes were locked onto you below him, mainly your fingers and the way they gripped the sheets. Did they claw or twist the fabric, rake, or simply press?
Without thinking, Yeosang picked up his pace to a quicker one. Not too fast or abrupt but above moderate. His brain flipped its switch for a moment there, focused on the way you clamped around him and how good his tip felt rubbing against your walls. His shaft felt so warm when in, but cold and wet when out.
Yeosang moaned softly, head thrown back as he let his hips take control and have a mind of their own. His head leaned back forward again, eyes closing as he moaned prettily.
“Baby,” he said, returning to his elbows as he hugged your whimpering figure, his nose nuzzled into your neck. His tip hit that particular spot inside you, that you almost always reached with your toys but never quite could.
His cock thrust into exactly there, making your face contort and your noises increase. “Sangie- Sangie right there,” you whined, your arm looping to him that had wrapped around your neck warmly. “Right there, yeah?” he echoed back to you, deciding to go just a bit harder now as you babbled out little ‘Sangie’s here and there.
Your walls contracted with every thrust, feeling emptiness before he filled you up again. The texture of his smooth head and rough, veiny shaft were the perfect mix, a foreign feeling than any of the rubber or silicone toys you used. You could get used to this.
A couple of minutes of him boning you lasted before he pulled out from behind you, untangling your legs and sitting on his heels. His hands went to your shoulders and waist, guiding you to flip onto your back now. He moved your hair from under your back to not itch you at all and made sure your head was secure and comfortable in the pillows before placing a pillow under your tailbone and lifting your hips up. At this angle you could see his cock- he wasn’t overly hung but he was there, pale and cut, with a pretty rouge-pink head. He was an average six, you assumed his girth to be the same, he was thick. It made sense as to why your walls felt unusually stretched out.
Noticing your staring he chuckled lightly, patting your cheek, and you looked up at him who now hovered over you.
“It already fit, why so scared?” he teased, noticing the way your eyes timidly peeked at his friend down there. Your cheeks flushed pink, as you shook your head. “, ’m not,” you mumbled, and he leaned down to press a reassuring peck to your nose. “Just focus on me, angel, hmm?” and you nodded.
Aligning himself with your entrance, he entered you once again. You let out a particularly sweet whine when he began moving inside you again, resulting in your hands moving to cover your face.
“Uh-uh,” Yeosang reached for your wrists, “mm-mm, let me see you, angel. Let Sangie see his pretty little angel,” he said under his breath, taking your wrists and pinning them to the sides of your head. You felt meek under him at this angle, full view of your breasts going up and down your chest when he thrusts. Not only that but your expressions, which he found so pretty to look at. The way your eyebrows creased and furrowed, the way you sucked in and bit down on your lip, the way your eyelids fluttered as you restrained from letting them close, wanting to keep your eyes on his angelic face above you. The tips of his ears were a shade of red, and sweat beading at his hairline. His eyes would close for a moment or two when he brushed against a certain spot inside you, and eventually, once again he found your special place, raw dogging with it once he noticed your back arch.
“go harder, Sangie, please.” you whimpered, and he didn't think twice before wrapping your legs around his waist and putting you in a mating press, thrusting down into your needy hole.
“Oh fuck, jagiya,” Yeosang practically whimpered, his moans escaping his lips more frequently now. His beefy tits are right above you, you can see the movement of his pectorals and his hard nipples, begging to be played with. You didn’t have a chance to though as he swooped down, capturing your lips in his in a long-awaited needy kiss. The contact of his black-cherry chapstick-flavoured lips against yours sealed everything, as you felt a knot start to build up inside your lower tummy.
“S-Sangie-” you tried speaking between kisses, your walls clamping down on him. He felt this, not wanting you to cum yet he pulled out, restricting you from your orgasm. A loud whine escaped your throat, as your eyes went wide open and you looked at him with confusion.
“Shh, baby. I’ll let you cum soon, but not right now.” Yeosang rubbed your clit gently as he pushed back in, moving languidly and now leaning down to your neck, gathering your hair in one hand out of his way as he began to nibble and suck at your neck and collarbone, leaving red and purple markings, now matching your thighs. His lips travelled to your nipples, taking a hard bud into his mouth as his free hand occupied the other one.
His thrusts had come to a complete stop as he toyed with your sensitive nipples, your pussy cockwarming him as he stayed inside you. Yeosang had you filled, making all the play more sensitive. His tongue glided right on the bud, your walls contracting for a brief moment as you micro-orgasmed around his cock, a small moan sounding in your ears from him.
Seemingly satisfied with your reaction Yeosang started up his thrusts once more, deep and moderate. He groaned and pressed himself up completely against you, cradling your head into his neck. The slaps were wet. A squelching sound from all the buildup reverberated into your sensitive senses, sending flutters from your stomach to your clit, the pearl sticking from your lips.
Yeosang had you in a headlock as he thrusted. You inhaled his scent and it made you feel so locked in, like a swaddled baby in his arms. Every time you got close to orgasm he would slow down to a stop, until he was satisfied the fourth time around and let go of your head, planking himself up so he could press one of his hands slowly into your stomach right where the slight bulge of him was.
You microed back to back until the knot started building up. Your pussy was so sensitive by now that you weren’t even sure if you would be able to cum. You not only felt that but a mixed feeling of having to be relieved too. It was almost difficult to put into words, but you tried nonetheless.
All Yeosang heard were babbles coming from you, he chuckled softly. His hand that was on your stomach went to your throbbing clit, and he pressed his middle finger up on it. Your eyes rolled back before looking back up at him, your hands on his shoulders as you tried to get the words out. He shushed you though, and rubbed a few small but firm circles before you felt a gushing sensation via your urethra, straight spilling onto the sheets as well as Yeosang’s pelvis. He pulled out and dove his fingers straight into your hole, moving quickly as he watched your expressions and listened to your pretty noises.
“See? There we go, pretty girl. Came so beautifully for Sangie, didn’t you?”
Your brain felt fuzzy after your orgasm, eyes clearing up and legs going limp. A deep exhale exited your lungs and you closed your eyes, now feeling the sweat that built up under your back that dampened the pillow under your tailbone. Yeosang looked down at you with his soft, puppy-like expression, cradling your face with his palms.
“You’re such a good angel for me, baby-”
“Sangie,” You cut off, looking up at him with a pout. His expression shifted to slight worry.
“Hmm? What happened, angel?”
Your legs wrapped back around his waist, pulling him back in as you babbled at him-
“Sangie, Sangie didn't cum,”
Yeosang’s expression softened again, as he looked down at you with a mix of amusement and adoration. “That's because Sangie was focused on you, baby. You want Sangie to cum?” your hands ran down his beefy arms, nodding adamantly but no words coming out your mouth.
Your boyfriend smiled softly at the way you became so much more needy for him now, noticeably slipping into your subspace. He always noticed from the way you become so much more desperate and clingy, your eyes having a different demeanor to them as well. It felt as if he was handling a delicate flower or a porcelain vase that would shatter any minute.
Gently, he slipped back into you for what felt like the nth time, keeping his movements gentle and languid as he knew you were still sensitive. He hugged you close, peppering kisses to your face and a plush one onto your wet lips. It didn’t take much time before his balls started to tighten since he'd been holding it in. “I-Inside,” you murmur, “inside?” he echoes back for confirmation, and you answer with a “yes, please.”. With a few more pushes rubbing against your cervix, he spilled into you, filling up your womb with his cum. You visibly flutter at the comforting feeling, humming in contentment as he finishes inside you. He keeps himself nestled there, letting you cuddle him to your delight until he eventually pulls away and carefully pulls out, a pop separating his cock from your hole.
Yeosang kisses your forehead before going to the connected bathroom inside the bedroom, leaving you nestled into the bed. You close your legs to keep his cum inside, it felt better knowing it was your boyfriend’s instead of the fake cum of an ejaculating toy.
You hear the water running from the faucet of your bathtub, your head moving to the side to get a better angle of what Yeosang’s doing in the bathroom but the door is halfway closed. You can smell the familiar scent of your vanilla bean candle though, and soon enough Yeosang emerges from the bathroom, coming towards your curled-up figure and scooping you into his big arms, nuzzling your hair as he walks you back to the bathroom.
Sure enough, you saw what you had smelled. At the rim of the tub were your candles, some unscented leaving only one scented so as to not overwhelm your already delicate senses. The bathtub was filled with bubble bath, not too much that it overflowed but just enough. Yeosang slowly lowered you into the tub, the warm water engulfing your skin inch by inch. He settled you comfortably, your back leaning against the wall. The bubbles went up to your shoulders.
You frowned when Yeosang stood back up straight to leave, your face contorting. “Where are you going?” You pout, and he turns to look at you. “I'm gonna put the sheets to wash, I'll be back quick, angel.” he promises, before heading out of the bathroom.
He took a couple minutes, coming back to find you playing with the bubbles, completely whisked away in your own little world. He slowly makes his way over to you, crouching down at the bathside and running his hands through your hair. Grabbing the body wash, he pumps a generous amount into your baby pink loofah, and takes your arm, starting off with that. The soothing feeling of him lathering you goes up your arm and across your chest, and to your other arm as well. Yeosang makes sure to get your neck, behind your ears, your back, and so on so forth.
Once you’ve been bathed, he takes his time washing your hair. His fingers massage the shampoo into your scalp, making sure to be careful incase you were tenderheaded. Your soft sounds of contentment were reassurances to him, as he watched you relax under his touch. You reminded him of a ragdoll, the way your eyes looked at him with adoration when in this headspace, completely reliant and stuck onto him. He adored the moments of when he would attempt to leave the bed, only for you to pull him back with a ‘no, Sangie’, or those moments of him walking into the room to find you curled up in his clothes, hugging his pillow that was drowned in his scent.
Too caught up in his thoughts, Yeosang didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. He quickened his pace of finishing to wash your hair before picking you up out of the tub, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and unplugging the tub. As much as he tried to not awake you, you woke up out of your light slumber anyway. It was a tiny dozing off.
“Out the bath?” You cooed tirely, and he nodded. “Baby out the bath, mhm. Cmon, Sangie needs to dry your hair so you don’t get sick, little one, don’t you think?”
Yeosang dried your body, putting you in his shirt and a fresh pair of panties. He then sat you in front of the vanity, taking your wet brush and untangling your hair before plugging in the blowdryer. You flinched at the loud noise, and he immediately shushed you, crooning. “It’s just the blowdryer, I’ll put it on low for you, angel.”
He adjusted it to a low setting so it’s quieter, sectioning your hair and drying it. Again, he took his time, even though by now it was two in the morning. He didn’t mind, he was only worried about you right now. Plus, he had the week off, time wasn’t his priority at the moment. You stared at him through the mirror, admiring his face. Your eyes locked onto his birthmark, you always found it to be so pretty. Despite his insecurities about it, you always made sure to sit on the side of him where you could see it regardless.
Yeosang seemed to notice this. He looked at you through the window and smiled gently, before focusing back on your hair. It took what felt like forever, but eventually he got it done and he led you back to the bathroom.
Your boyfriend lifted you and sat you on the counter. You swung your legs a bit, watching as he grabbed your bow headband and put it on you, pushing back the hair that framed your face. He started off by washing your face, using your favourite cleanser. Once he was done with that he applied your eyepatches, and applied your moisterizer. Yeosang knew you were tired so he didn’t want to drag your skincare routine out. While he was waiting for the eyebags to do whatever they were supposed to he took the time to brush your teeth, holding your jaw and giggling at the way your eyes were slowly shutting.
Hurrying up, he cleaned your mouth, and took off your eyebags and headband, bringing you back to bed. He took a quick trip to the kitchen to leave you a cold glass of water, and after tucking you in he took a quick shower himself. Yeosang figured he’ll worry about everything else later on, getting dressed into boxers and climbing into bed with your sleepy form.
You felt the bed dip, and shuffled close to Yeosang subconsciously, burrowing into his side. He smiled once more and kissed your head, turning off the lamp and pulling the covers over the both of you. His hand caressed your head as he stared out the window, watching the city lights. Soon sleep got the best of him, and he fell asleep with you in his arms, occupying his side of the bed.
Holding close to him his sweet, pretty girl.
#🐈⬛ anon#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#kpop rp#ateez#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#yeosang#yeosang x reader#yeosang ateez#yeosang smut#yeosang x y/n#yeosang x you#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez x reader#atz#ateez yeosang#atiny#ateez x y/n#ateez x female reader#ateez x you
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pathetic!könig
who adores you
könig was a mountain of a man, towering over nearly everyone, his sheer presence intimidating to anyone who didn’t know him. but with you? he was a bundle of nerves, a mess of stuttered words and shaky hands. and right now, he was on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with wide, desperate eyes.
“please,” he whispered, his voice thick and trembling.
you tilted your head, arms crossed, watching him as he fidgeted. his massive hands rested on his thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants as if to ground himself. his cheeks were flushed, the tips of his ears burning a deep red beneath the hood he rarely removed.
“please what, könig?” your voice was calm, steady, though the tension in the air was almost suffocating.
his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the floor. “i… i didn’t mean to upset you,” he stammered, his accent thick and endearing, “i only wanted to help, but—”
“but you didn’t listen.”
his head dipped in shame, his shoulders hunching inward. “i know, schatz, i know… i was wrong. please, just—just don’t be angry with me. i’ll do anything.”
you stepped closer, your fingers brushing against his chin, gently tilting his face up to meet your gaze. his breath hitched, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his entire body practically trembling under your touch.
“anything?” you teased, your lips curving into a smirk.
he nodded frantically, his voice barely above a whisper. “anything. just don’t push me away.”
your thumb traced along the edge of his jaw, and he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment like he’d been starving for it. when you pulled your hand away, he let out a soft whine, his fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare.
“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you said, your tone light but firm.
his eyes snapped open, and the way he looked at you was almost reverent, like you’d hung the stars in the sky.
“thank you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, “thank you, schatz.”
the sexual tension between you was palpable, the air charged with unspoken desires. but you stepped back, leaving him kneeling there, a flustered mess of a man.
“get up,” you said, though there was no real authority in your tone, just a soft fondness.
he scrambled to his feet, towering over you once again, but looking as small and pliable as ever under your gaze.
• könig is a giant teddy bear when it comes to you. he’s intimidating on the battlefield, but the second he’s in your presence, he’s all blushes and shy glances.
• he’s weak for your touch—absolutely craves it. even the smallest brush of your fingers against his arm has him melting. he’ll do anything to earn your affection, even if it means embarrassing himself.
• he stammers a lot around you, especially when you’re in control of the situation. his confidence crumbles in the best way when you take charge.
• könig gets on his knees for you often, whether he’s pleading for forgiveness or just desperate for your attention. it’s not about submission—it’s about how utterly devoted he is to you.
• he’s ridiculously flustered by even the smallest displays of dominance from you. if you so much as tilt his chin up or give him a stern look, his heart feels like it’s going to burst.
• the sexual tension between you two is unbearable at times. he’s so attuned to your presence that even the way you move or speak can make his breath hitch.
• he’s incredibly protective of you, but it’s never overbearing. he knows you’re capable of taking care of yourself, and that makes him admire you even more.
• könig loves it when you call him pet names, especially ones that highlight his size compared to you. “big guy,” “teddy bear,” or even “my giant.” he blushes every time.
• he’s a people-pleaser, especially with you. he’ll go out of his way to make sure you’re happy, even if it means going far outside his comfort zone.
• he has moments of jealousy but never in a possessive way. he just worries he’s not enough for you, which makes him try even harder to prove himself.
• könig has a hard time asking for what he wants, especially when it comes to intimacy. he’ll skirt around the topic, his face bright red, until you finally coax it out of him.
• despite his shyness, he’s incredibly attentive to your needs. he notices every little detail about you, from the way you like your coffee to the way your mood shifts subtly throughout the day.
• he often underestimates how much you care for him, which makes it all the more rewarding when you reassure him. a simple “i love you” can leave him speechless, his eyes glistening with emotion.
• könig lives for your approval. a single compliment from you can make his entire week.
• he’s deeply loyal to you, almost to a fault. he’d move mountains if you asked him to, no questions asked.
#cod modern warfare#modern warfare#call of duty#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig headcanons#konig cod#konig x reader#konig#pathetic!könig
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*writes 800+ words of Another Red but not the part I'm supposed to*
Jason breathed in the heavy clove scented smoke, taking comfort in it. He didn’t smoke often anymore, but if Bruce and Alfred hadn’t gotten him to stop, he didn’t think he ever would. Somethings were just too much part of a person. The smoke swirled up into the night air, caught in the constant breeze a harbor city like Gotham had.
“You don’t have to do this kid, put yourself in danger like this.”
“No, I do,” Rabbit bit out. Jason was pretty sure if he could see the kid’s teeth, they would be bared in a feral smile. “What I can’t do is let people get hurt when I can go and help them.”
“Yeah, and what about your safety? You could die.”
Rabbit laughed like that was some sort of big joke and Jason felt himself bristling at the reaction. Jason knew how dangerous this was— more than anyone else in his family. He’d felt that fear and pain and—
“Yeah, well, Hood, sorta too late for that.”
Jason’s anger left him so suddenly that he felt cold in it’s absence. No—
“Do you know, it’s not the death itself that’s bad,” Rabbit drawled, almost lazily. He finally lit his gifted cigarette. He didn’t take his mask off, like Jason had hoped he would, but ducked his head down and pushed the mask up just enough to take a slow drag. He looked so small like that, hunched over on himself with the bright ember dangling from his fingertips. “The body stopping everything… it’s sorta of quiet. All those functions we don’t think about going on all the time— breath’n and blink’n and beat’n… it’s quite without all that going on. Nah, it’s not the actually dy’n that’s so bad, it’s the fear that comes with it.”
“Yeah.” The admission almost hurt Jason to choke out.
“Yeah,” Rabbit agreed. He took another drag from the cigarette. His free hand was curled over his head, likely to keep his face hidden from Jason, but it just made Rabbit look all the more like a scared kit. “And that fucking fear? That worst part? I live with that all the fucking time, Hood, so nah, I’m not so ‘fraid of dy’n‘gain.”
“At least let me help you avoid it,” Jason said. He didn’t mean to plead but fuck if he wasn’t.
Rabbit snorted and took one more drag before he snuffed out his cig and stood. “Yeah? And how do you plan to do that?”
All traces of the drawling accent was gone and that hint of Gotham was back in Rabbit’s voice.
Jason wondered which was more real.
He reached into his belt instead of pressing the matter— instead of pressing the accent or take on death or talking Rabbit out of this life. Jason knew in every shattered bone of his that it wouldn’t do any good. This life already had the kid by the neck and there was nothing to do about it. It would choke Rabbit out one way or another, just like the rest of them.
The red fob was innocuous against his glove, could hardly even see it in the dim, yellow light of th Narrows. Red on red on red—
“Take it.”
Rabbit didn’t.
“What is it?” he asked instead, leaning forward just a little.
“A panic button.”
Rabbit snorted and flicked the remains of the cigarette at Jason. “I’m not taking a fucking tracker.”
“It’s not a tracker until you activate it. You press and hold the button on each side for two seconds and only if you do that is it a tracker. I can’t activate it remotely on my end or anything,” Jason said. “It’s the same one I give some street kids and sex workers. There’s nothing special about it, it’s just a tracker.”
Rabbit watched Jason with an eerie stillness. “Swear it.”
“I swear, it’s just a panic button. It’s only a track if you turn it on.”
Rabbit still didn’t move. Jason sighed and started to pull his hand back before Rabbit darted forward and grabbed the panic button. The little fucker was quick.
“I won’t press it just for anything,” Rabbit said with a defiant jut of his chin.
“Wouldn’t expect you too,” Jason said with an honest, easy shrug.
Rabbit watched a moment longer before he pulled out a keyring without any keys and put the button in. It hung between a battered food shelter tag and a library barcode that Jason was sure was counterfeit.
“Yeah, whatever. Now go on and get, Hood. Don’t you have a whole city to look after?”
“Fucker,” Jason said fondly and stamped his own cigarette out before he tucked the butt away in a pouch slot. The small part of him that was still very much a Bat wanted to do the same with Rabbit’s so he could try and pull some DNA. Instead he flicked Rabbit off and leapt off the roof to the kid’s laughter.
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Take Out for Dummies - Part 2
Ship: Dead on Main Previous | Masterpost Note: So I was planning on sitting on this until I was about done with part 3, but then @yeetyeetedyote, who tumblr doesn't allow me to tag, did a meme for part 1 and I couldn't help but post it. So hope you enjoy. Jason did not know what to wear. It was Red Hood who had a date, but going in his full uniform seemed very excessive somehow. But there was also no way he was going unarmed. He pondered his closet with a frown. What clothing did he even own that were suitable for a date? He’d never had to ponder this before. What level of formality was expected? Probably not formal, considering there would be no dinner. Also he was Red Hood, there was no way he’d do formal, he had an aesthetic.
He finally settled on jeans, a red henley and the brown leather jacket he used as Red Hood. He held up the jacket and inspected it critically for blood spatters, that at least he felt certain wasn’t appropriate.
One hour later saw Red Hood rolling up to the curb in front of the building. Only one person was leaning against the brick wall there, absorbed in their phone; it had to be Danny. The rest of the people there were just walking past. It was Crime Alley, Red Hood barely got a glance of interest. Gotta love Gothamites.
Jason had not been able to really get good visual on Danny in the dark, aside from the fact that he was rather short and had dark hair, the night vision in his helmet could only do so much. He had not been prepared for how he looked up and the wide blue eyes crinkled as he smiled. Nor the way the button down shirt and the jeans hugged close to broad shoulders and slim waist in a way the hoodie he’d worn previously had clearly not.
Somehow in all his musings about how this would go Jason had never considered the possibility that Danny would be hot.
“Hi,” Danny said still smiling as he came up to him. He raised his arms out from his sides a bit helplessly before letting them fall back. “So how do you want me?”
Jason’s brain screeched to a halt as those words brought a decidedly not appropriate image to his head. He was so glad he was wearing his helmet right now. Jason must have stiffened or given away his embarrassment some other way, because Danny’s cheeks flushed as he too realized how his question could have been understood.
“I meant on your bike.”Jason hunched over, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. Because that was not helping at all.
Wordlessly Jason held out the extra helmet. Danny took it gratefully and stuffed it over his red face.
“Front.” Jason said over the radio connection between the helmets.
Jason had to give Danny a hand to get him situated in front. He had to hold on near the center of handlebars and he didn’t really have good place to place his feet and had to hold them curled up.
It was neither safe nor legal, but Jason was not about to have a potential assassin at his back and besides who was gonna arrest Red Hood for traffic violations? The small hitched gasp when Jason curled around Danny’s back to reach the handlebars had his lips quirking up, and he might have pressed him just a bit further forward just for that.
“Where to?”
“Sommerset.”Jason raised an eyebrow at that as he kicked off the curb. Carefully, as he got a feeling for the different weight distribution, he drove them in the direction of the Trigate Bridge.
“If a tour of Old Arkham is your idea of a date, I think I’m gonna have to shoot you.”
Danny scoffed.
“I promised you fun, didn’t I?”
At Jason’s lack of response, he slumped further.
“There’s a traveling carnival on the fair grounds at the edge of town.”
“Huh.” Jason was trying to think of a time he’d actually visited a carnival as a visitor and not a vigilante to stop some villain plot. He was coming up short. There was a feeling in his chest he had a hard time identifying, an uncertain thing, but it wasn’t bad. If nothing else he was gonna have an experience? Oo o oO
They parked the bike in the attached gravel parking lot near the fair grounds. Jason had to step off the bike first and then promptly had to catch Danny as his legs refused to carry him when he stepped off the bike.
“Oh wow, my legs fell asleep there.” He laughed and stepped away on wobbly legs as he pulled the helmet off. He handed it to Jason who put it into its compartment.
He took another wobbly step forward and Jason couldn’t help the way he reached for him to steady him. Instead Danny grabbed his hand firmly. Jason was baffled at the action looking from Danny to their hands, uncertain how to react, but Danny just smiled and changed his hold so their fingers were twined together.
He looked mightily satisfied about it too as he tugged Jason forward toward the fair grounds. A fair bit of the rides were visible because of their heights and Jason could easily imagine how the place would light up with multicolored lights once evening came.
Once they entered the fair grounds they drew quite a lot of attention. Lots of people stopped and pointed at Red Hood and his companion. Phones were pointed in their direction and Jason found himself tensing.
Danny leaned closer and spoke lowly, “Don’t worry, nobody will believe them. Regular digital cameras are odd around me, so they won’t get usable footage.”
Jason’s mind raced, what did that mean? Did he have some sort of jammer? Was it a meta ability? Was it related to his ability to sneak up on vigilantes on Gotham rooftops?
“And,” Danny continued, “if anyone asks, we can always say you’re a cosplayer.”
Jason grimaced. Danny slapped his chest as if he could see right through the mask.
“Hey! Cosplay is a great creative hobby.”
“That’s not- I’m a former crime lord. I don’t understand why anyone would dress up as me.”
“Pffft, don’t sell yourself short. Also you have a cool recognizable thing going on with the helmet. It will be especially funny if someone critiques it for not being accurate.”
Jason couldn’t help his chuckle at how gleeful Danny looked at the prospect.
“This is the real reason you want me to claim I’m cosplaying?”
“It would be so funny, admit it!”
Jason huffed. It would be pretty funny.
“Ha! I’ll take that as a yes. Okay, time to show off some of those shooting skills and win me a plushie.” With that statement Danny pointed towards a game booth with truly ridiculously large unicorn plushies hanging from it and tugged Jason forward. It was only at that moment he remembered they were still holding hands. It was…
It was nice.
Danny glanced back at him and he was smiling, warm and excited. Jason didn’t remember the last time someone had smiled that much at him. Jason found himself smiling back, and he was suddenly grateful he couldn’t be seen behind the helmet.
The shooting booth operator eyed Red Hood warily until Danny broke the tension in a voice that carried, “my friend’s cosplay is pretty awesome right?”
The operator’s shoulders fell and he chuckled, “pretty brave of him to wear that this close to Gotham proper.”
“Sure is! But not to worry if there’s any trouble I will protect him,” Danny said seriously, with a glance and a wink at Jason.
The man took in Danny’s skinny and less than imposing appearance and burst out laughing, and just like that any remaining tension was gone.
The operator explained the game. There were different tiers with bottles lined up on shelves and flat rings of different widths balancing on top. You got points if you knocked the ring down over the bottle neck. The slimmer rings offered more points.
It was a pretty simple game.
Danny put down cash for the game and looked at Jason expectantly. “Show us some of that Red Hood skill.”
The operator chuckled. Jason rolled his eyes and stepped up.
Immediately, as he picked up the air gun it felt clunky in his hand. It was sharp-edged where it should be smooth and was weighted all wrong especially with the pressure cable attached to it, but that was not going to stop him. He loaded it with one of the five cork stoppers the operator handed him. He seemed to be enjoying Danny’s teasing as much as Danny himself.
Out the corner of his vision he saw Danny lean forward expectantly as he took aim.
He pulled the trigger.
The cork stopper was ejected with a loud pop and promptly hit the edge of a shelf bouncing backwards to land on the floor where it rolled around three times before stopping.
Danny looked at him wide eyed before bursting out in helpless snickers. Jason shoved him in revenge, but he couldn’t help smiling. There was just something refreshing about how despite knowing he was the real Red Hood he was so completely unafraid of him. Not even his family was that relaxed around him.
He didn’t want to bring his mood down contemplating that, so he reloaded the clunky gun and took aim again. He considered the points on the rings and the available prize tiers. Four shots left, with a bit of luck he could still do decently.
Aiming higher and slightly more to the right of how he would aim a real gun he shot the first maximum point ring down around the bottle neck. Three more fell in rapid succession.
Danny cheered, pumping his fist in the air.
“That’s four hundred points, that gives you the choice of a large prize,” the operator said impressed.
He pointed at a large unicorn plush, it wasn’t quite the extra large ones that hung on the outside of the stall, those required cumulative points from at least two games, but it was still a very decent size.
Danny was the very opposite of disappointed when Jason handed it over. He squished it in his arms and absolutely beamed up at Jason. Jason looked away, embarrassed for feeling so satisfied and warm just for winning a silly game.
The operator snorted giving them a knowing look. “Have a nice evening boys.”
“You too,” Danny replied, sidling up close and entwining their fingers again as he pulled them away and off towards the various rides.
Jason eyed their once more joined hands in bemusement, not really sure what to think, but he’d already allowed it once. It sold the appearance of a date, made it all the more likely to the bystanders that Jason was just some cosplayer with a death wish, so it was smart to keep holding hands. And Jason found himself reluctant to give it up.
It was an easy illusion to give into.
He squeezed Danny’s hands and he turned his head to look at him, smiling like this was a real date and not one of his odd jobs. Jason nodded towards the bumper cars and Danny’s grin turned into feral delight as he dragged him in the new direction. It was so easy to pretend Jason was just here to have fun with a friend who was maybe just a bit more.
That was something he could have had maybe. If he hadn’t been Robin. If he hadn’t died and come back wrong. If he wasn’t a former crime lord just trying to find his footing with a family he wasn’t sure wanted him and not just the dead boy he’d been.
But for just a little while he could pretend.
Until Danny turned out to actually know he was supposed to kill him, until everything crashed and burned like usual, he could allow himself a little fun.
Like ignoring every sign saying the bumper cars were not meant for driving into each other. The bored teen operator certainly didn’t care to uphold that rule. The bumper car ride was a war zone, a giant free for all and yet Jason managed to have only eyes for Danny. He was a tricky driver to catch. Jason had no idea how he managed to maneuver the car like that, it was verging on supernatural.
They were both laughing when they exited their cars after Jason had finally managed to bump into him proper instead of the earlier glancing blows.
“Remind me to call you if I ever need a getaway driver.”
Danny snorted knocking their shoulders together. “Only if I get part of the cut.”
I’ll give you more than a cut, Jason was about to say, but thankfully didn’t. Because what did that even mean? Instead he knocked his shoulder back.
They continued on towards another ride, a small rollercoaster, and as they queued Danny started telling him about how his dad’s driving was so infamous in his hometown that the local news included a segment to warn for it when he was on the roads. Because of that nobody had wanted to give Danny driving lessons and that’s why technically he didn’t have a license, but he’d once landed a space shuttle, so that should count for something. The story verged on so impossible it had to be true, but Jason was sure if a civilian had actually landed a space shuttle it would have been all over the news or at least known among superheroes - it was entertaining nonetheless.
Jason wasn’t sure when they’d started holding hands again only noted the absence when Danny left him by a bench several rides later with stern instructions to protect the princess with his life, aka the unicorn plushie.
The lights had flickered on a while ago and bathed the darkening grounds in multicolored lights. Jason leaned back relaxing against the bench. Taking in the lights and the happy atmosphere as people passed him by. There were a few people who pointed and snickered as they walked by, but clearly the unicorn plushie was just as good as Danny to convince people he was just a guy in a costume.
“It’s a pretty good costume.”
Jason turned his head to find a man with a superman shirt had stopped. He stayed silent waiting for him to elaborate. He obviously wanted to, there was something in his drawl.
“The casual look is pretty well put together while remaining recognizably Red Hood.”
“But-“ somehow there was a but- “if you were actually from Gotham you’d know that the real helmet is matte and the brow section is more slanted giving it an angrier expression.”
Jason stared incredulously at the man in the Superman shirt accusing him of not being a Gothamite. Never mind the helmet thing, that was just ridiculous but accusing him of not being a Gothamite, now that was an insult he wouldn’t be taking. Jason stood up to his full six feet and saw the way the man shrunk as he realized he might have made a mistake.
“There you are, babe,” Danny inserted himself smoothly into the situation snaking an arm around his waist and pressing close. It was distracting. “Come on let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
Jason snorted as he let Danny move them forward. He didn’t need the intervention, he wouldn’t have attacked the man or anything.
He couldn’t help but pull them to a stop however as they passed him.
“Your information is outdated, this is the current helmet.” He spoke lowly and ominously only made more ominous by the voice modulation.
The man eep’ed and scrambled to get away.
They watched him go with no small bit of amusement.
“I thought we agreed to keep it on the down low.”
Jason shrugged, “he asked for it, besides you said it yourself, nobody will believe him.”
“Alright then.” Danny left the place beneath Jason’s arm, he had only a moment to feel bereft however until his hand was grabbed again and pulled in the direction of the parking lot. “Speaking of proof, do you mind me taking a selfie of us so I can prove I took you out?”
Jason frowned. “I thought you said cameras didn’t work around you.” “They don’t, I’ve had to modify it to be able to take any pictures.”
“You gonna tell me what kind of meta ability you have?”
Danny chuckled. He pulled their joined hands up and pressed a kiss to Jason’s scarred knuckles. Jason was so distracted by the action he almost didn’t hear the, “I like you Hood, but that isn’t a first date conversation.”
There was a pause in their conversation as Jason contemplated the absurd idea of there ever being a second date, the fact that this one was nearly over and how he’d actually had a lot of fun.
“So, selfie?”
“Uh sure.”
Danny juggled the white plastic bag that Jason only noticed now onehanded as he pulled out his phone. It was a broad phone with actual buttons and Jason would believe it was modified alright. Danny smiled and leaned close as he raised his hand, a small flash went off and Danny looked the picture over in satisfaction.
“What’s with the bag?”
“Huh, oh this is food. Our next stop, if you’re still willing, is the ice rink, but I figured we could take a break on the roof and eat back to back or something, what with the whole-” he indicated the helmet by waving a hand in front of his face.
So it wasn’t over yet. Not if Jason wanted to continue. It was an easy out, Jason could just chose to drive Danny to wherever he wanted to be dropped off and he could go home and still make it easily in time for patrol - or he could prolong the evening.
Jason popped open the compartment under the seat of his bike and took the warm bag of food from Danny to put in as he considered. Danny had already put on the extra helmet.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Jason could practically hear the smile in his voice even if he couldn’t see it through the opaque helmet.
“Okay,” he confirmed.
The small fist pump was kinda adorable. So first part of the date, it was getting a bit long so I cut it in two, but hey that's the only reason I could even upload it. Jason is in trouble, he's just not quite realizing it yet XD I enjoy hearing your thoughts on the story, so please continue to share <3
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