#feel free to run with this idea and make fics of your own! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlight-prose · 6 months ago

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #my writing

1K notes · View notes

rafesbabyg1rl · 2 months ago

Note

Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example.

When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you.

“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.

“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.

When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea.

Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.”

I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick.

You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh.

Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having.

Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together.

“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in.

“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table.

You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you.

As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I have a client.” You explain, again.

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?”

“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly.

He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”

“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”

Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”

The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your…” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something.

“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for.

He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both.

Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.

“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.

You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger.

As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?” You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.

You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two.

As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.

Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.

With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.

“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.”

“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.

“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you.

“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter.

The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom.

When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement.

You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name.

Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”

“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.

“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it.

After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable.

He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.

“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead.

Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.

His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter.

You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves.

Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense.

He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others.

You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable.

Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight.

Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves

“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation.

Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly.

After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.

Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm.

“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”

“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”

He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”

“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.

It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,

“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.

Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing.

Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him.

After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.

Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.”

“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.

Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut.

“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you.

You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.

He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”

“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep.

“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!

626 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 2 months ago

Note

I have a silly idea: reader comes with Jade, Leona, or whoever else you want when they get their wisdom teeth taken out, so they can drive them home after, you know, but [Jade, Leona, or whoever] has a strong reaction to the anesthetic and is very loopy (and emotional, and honest) afterwards.

I hope you feel better soon!

arguably leona is the funniest one 😭😭 ty for this anon

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ forget it

type of post: fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader can drive, I feel like that needs tagging, I didn't write this about jade but he snuck his way in anyway

"Careful. Mind your head. Let's get you into the car- there we go,"

Leona mumbles something nonsensical, holding an icepack to his jaw.

You'd think, with the pain and all, he'd be in an even worse mood than he usually is.

But then, you'd be wrong. He's full of surprises.

He runs his free hand over the armrest of his seat. "Where'd you get this thing, anyway? I thought you were supposed to be poor or 'somethin,"

"It was a gift, actually," ...from Leona himself, which he doesn't seem to remember. Hm.

"Whoever bought it must like you a lot..."

You give him a strange look before you start the car. "I suppose so?"

"Lucky bastard,"

You laugh. Then he laughs, which takes you by surprise. It's not like him to be so... unlike him.

He's very talkative, too.

Leona's been mumbling nonsense to himself since he got out of the dentist's door, but this is actual conversation, now... if a little slurred.

"'s a good thing you're 'doin this. If it was Jack or 'somethin I'd never hear the end of it... you're dependable, 'ya know?"

Laughing gas. The nurse had warned you he might be a little loopy for a short time after the procedure. Euphoric, is the word she actually used.

You can definitely see that now.

Leona is looking at you like you're the prettiest thing he ever saw, his eyelids lowered.

"Do you got a boyfriend or 'somethin?"

The numb, slurred state of his words makes it uneasy to understand him, but with the look he's been giving you, it's not exactly hard to guess.

"No, not presently," you say, trying to keep your eyes on the road. "Why? You gonna ask me out?"

"Yeah. Maybe,"

You roll your eyes. The nurse had also warned you he might experience some mild memory loss.

An effect of the laughing gas, again.

He won't remember this conversation in a few hours. A sense of disappointment hollows out your chest. You ignore it.

"Okay, then. Meet me on Friday. Six PM. I want dinner and a show, your pick," you say, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Done,"

"And I want flowers. Imported from Sunset Savanna,"

"Can do that,"

"And I expect a kiss at the end. A proper one, not a teen boy one,"

"Pfft. A teen boy one?"

"You know. Eyes open, dumb look on their face, tongue sticking out. You'll have to kiss me like a gentleman, Kingscholar. I really like you. Like-like you. Make it count,"

"Yeah, yeah..."

He mutters, closing his eyes and kicking back against the car seat.

Not all things are so different about him now- he falls asleep just the same. And he snores. All the way back to school.

You nudge him awake and he only growls, though not very menacingly, and lets you help him back to his dorm, your arm under his. Once he's tucked in bed, medication on the bedside table and a checklist in Ruggie's hands, you're done.

Walking back to your own dorm, you feel that same hollow sense of disappointment. And some relief, too. You confessed to your crush, and he won't even remember it!

"Ah, it's you. I was wondering who might be out so late,"

You jump, and spin on your heels towards the source of the noise. Behind you, the owner of the mysterious voice comes out of the shadows.

"Oh. Jade," who else would you expect at this point?

"Good evening," he bows, a little too formally for the sharp-toothed smirk on his face. "Might I inquire what you're doing, out here so late?"

"I had to drive Leona to a dentist thing," you shrug, walking again. Jade follows alongside you.

"Oh? And that went well?"

You chuckle. "Very. Besides the side effects on the anesthesia they put him on,"

That familiar curiosity gleams in Jade's glassy eyes, giving him a predatorial look. It's... unnerving. As usual.

"Oh? I wish you had told me. I've become quite interested in land creature teeth lately... tell me, what anesthesia was used?"

Creepy. But not unusual for Jade. "Some injection, and laughing gas,"

"...Interesting... you were in the car for a long while?"

"Uh..." where's he going with this? "Yeah, I guess. And we had to fill out some paperwork in the lobby before leaving."

"Interesting... very interesting,"

The gleam in his eyes almost becomes hungry, as if he's feeding off of what you're telling him.

Like... he knows something.

You narrow your eyes. "What?"

Jade grins, showing you rows of sharpened teeth. "Oh, nothing..."

You wait for him to go on. He waits for you to ask. You both walk down the long path to your dorm.

"...It's just that the effects of laughing gas wear off no more than ten minutes after the flow has ended. I'd dare to say that Leona was perfectly lucid by the time you got into the car,"

You slow. Then you stop. There's no way...

That... absolutely bastard of a prince.

Jade's grin sharpens.

"It seems as if whatever secret you have so clearly given Leona while you thought he was drugged isn't so secret now... is it?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader

976 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 7 months ago

Text

the art of dancing in the kitchen

carmy berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader

gif by @hotch-girl

word count: 3,479

warnings: literally nothing? this is pure fluff with slight swearing and little baby innuendos. i did make reader a hairdresser because i just love the idea and it makes so much sense for this.

synopsis: nothing brings you more joy than spending time with carmen…except maybe having him help you bake.

a/n: i swear to you, i think this might be my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. i love it so much and it made me so happy to write. i found myself smiling at the screen while typing, if that tells you anything. i think i’d definitely like to continue writing things in this universe, too! carmy is so fun for me to write and i love coming up with ways to make him feel tangible. (also shoutout to the first pic because if you know, you know.) i hope you enjoy this one and happy reading!! <33

————

Carmy never sees you run as fast as you do when you’re leaving work. In this case, it’s just so he can eat lunch with you, but you rush out of the salon door just as fast.

Your sundress catches the wind, the hem flying behind you as you jog up to the passenger side door. You catch a glimpse of Carmen through the dirty window. His curls are crushed underneath that worn blue cap, but today it’s turned the wrong way around on his head.

It makes him look boyish. The hand rubbing over his mouth in an effort to hide a grin doesn’t help his case.

If you’re honest, you’ve been giddy since six that morning, when you got up and remembered that Carmy was meeting you for lunch. And when you got to work and found it was much slower than expected, with no show after no show, you were so grateful for the blue eyed man waiting for you outside. In a loading zone, no less.

You hop into the car, pulling the door shut behind you distractedly. You’re too eager to see him, and before you can even say hello, how are you, how’s life—anything—you’re kissing him.

His lips feel a little chapped against yours, the skin slightly dry and cracked, but you don’t mind. It feels like he’s just shaved, his jaw all smooth, and he smells like cinnamon and dish soap and cigarettes, but you’d be a liar if you tried to claim that wasn’t the best smell in the world.

You pull away from his kiss, locking eyes with him, where his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed like he’s been pinched. “Hi, gorgeous,” you say.

Carmen laughs, that little shy one that’s more of a big puff of air than a chuckle. He shakes his head at you, still not used to someone being so excited about his presence, so…enamored by him.

“Hey, you,” Carmy answers, placing both of his hands on your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment. He’s trying to drink you in. He does this every chance he gets because he literally cannot believe you’re real. He’s not dissociating, he’s not daydreaming. This is his life.

Your already broad smile widens as you take the opportunity to stare back at him. Your eyes wander to his just-too-long sideburns. “I think it’s time for a trim again, Carm. Lookin’ a little grizzly there.” You ruffle his curls, which feel surprisingly clean.

Carmy watches you bite your thumbnail in an effort to conceal the laugh threatening to burst from your throat due to your own horrible joke.

“Ha, ha. So funny.”

He puts the car in drive and listens to you giggle to yourself as you fasten your seatbelt. Neither of you say much on the very short drive to the park across the street, knowing you’ll be able to vent as much as you please while you eat.

“Cross your fingers our bench is free?” you say, raising your hand up towards Carmen. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as if that also counts as a way of manifesting your favorite seat. Carmy lifts his fingers in the air, the middle crossed over the index and gently knocks his hand against yours.

You pull into the parking lot, the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires filling your ears, and your gaze immediately flies to the bench underneath the biggest tree with the most shade and the best view for people watching. “Fuck, yeah!” you shout, a brilliant smile blooming on your face as you unbuckle.

Carmy laughs for real this time, the corners of his eyes going all soft and crinkly at your joy. “Run over there and claim it, yeah? I’ll grab everything.”

You push open the car door and stand quickly, smoothing the sweet ruffles of your dress. You wink, already starting to happily jog away. “Yes, chef!” Carm catches your salute just before he reaches in the backseat for the cooler and bag of food he brought with him from the restaurant.

On your bench, you prop your hand on your chin, tuck your foot under your thigh, and watch as Carmen walks up the short little incline to you. He looks gorgeous.

He’s wearing jeans, Levi’s that hug his ass and thighs just right. He has on an old “I heart New York” t-shirt that he only wears when he hasn’t caught up on laundry (and only bought for that same reason a few years ago).

His curls and necklace bounce almost in sync, and you can’t help but think that he just looks so pure and free.

And he’s got this glint in his eye that’s directed right on you.

“Ebra made your favorite. He heard I was meeting you for lunch and insisted he do it,” Carmy says, snapping you out of your how-could-this-man-get-any-more-sexy daze.

He places the tin foil wrapped sandwich in front of you, pretending not to notice the way you’re gawking at him. “I swear he’s never been so gentle with roast beef.”

You smile, pulling up the strap on your dress where it’s started to slip. Carmy leans over the table to press a kiss to your shoulder. It makes your stomach flip.

“Did he make yours for you?” you ask, mouth watering impatiently as you lift the still-warm bread up so you can take a messy bite.

Carmen hands you a napkin. “Put that over your chest—yeah, like that. So you don’t get your dress dirty.” He rips open a bag of chips for you to share. “But to answer your question, fuck no he didn’t.”

You toss your head back and laugh. “You’ll have to tell him I said thank you for making such a yummy lunch for me.” Your boyfriend watches as you suck a stream of au jus from your thumb.

Carmy scoffs playfully. You wink at him. “I did have the cutest delivery boy though.”

His brow raises, and the corners of his mouth quirk while he chews on the handful of potato chips he’s just shoved in his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

You hum. “Yep. Cute even with roast beef stuck in his teeth.”

Carmy falls for it, quickly taking a sip of his drink like he’s going to wash the beef free. But the twinkle in your eye tips him off. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

You wipe your grinning mouth. “‘Course I am, Bear.”

Carmen raises up from his side of the picnic table just enough so that he’s leaning across to meet you halfway. He waves you closer with his hands. “Come on now, you owe me a kiss for bein’ a little shit.”

You brace your palms against the worn—and slightly damp from last night's rain shower—wood, quickly connecting your lips with Carmy’s.

You do this thing where you start smiling into the kiss and in turn it makes Carmen smile because your giddiness to have your mouth on his is insanely fucking contagious, and he’d be a damn fool not to join in.

When you pull apart you make sure to quickly kiss both of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “There’s your tip for being such a pretty delivery boy and bringin’ me lunch.”

The both of you settle into quiet conversation, catching up on whatever as you finish your sandwiches and drinks. Carmy reaches across the table to hold your hand, rubbing the pads of his fingers over your polished nails. He likes the way they feel.

As a surprise to end your lunch hour, he pulls out a little back holding two oversized oatmeal raisin cookies. One for each of you. And he knows those are your favorite. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat when you see them. It makes him laugh, makes his stomach flip.

“Marcus made a batch of these, just tryin’ out cookie recipes? We thought having them out front for people to grab on their way out would be smart.”

You take the cookie from him. “That is smart. And I already know it’s gonna be yummy.”

“Damn straight. I ate like, four of them as my breakfast and lunch yesterday. But that’s not important. How’s work so far?”

You’ll have to berate him about that later. The man cannot eat cookies and wash them down with Pepto Bismol and call it a day.

You demolish your cookie within seconds. “Work has been so fuckin’ slow today, Bear. We’ve had all these no shows, so I got set up and then they don’t come and now I’ll have to send them the files about the fee.”

“You want me to yell at ‘em for you? Tell them how they’re missin’ out on the world’s best haircut and color?”

You smack him playfully on the wrist. “I just love my job, y’know? So it sucks when I sit there playin’ on my phone instead of listening to all the gossip my customers bring me.”

Carmy downs the rest of his Coke and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “If it helps, I’ll let you give me that trim after service tonight.”

“At least I know you won’t cancel on me.”

Carmen watches you for a minute, losing himself in now fucking ethereal you are. He’s never imagined himself using the word, but that’s the only proper way to describe you. And he secretly loves you cutting his hair because your hands feel so good, especially when you wash it for him.

“I’ll tip you real good too, baby.” Carmy blushes at his own joke and it makes you laugh. Mid-laugh though, your eyes widen like you’ve just had an idea. It feels a little devious to him.

You pull out your phone. “Oh! When I was doomscrolling this morning, I found this video of blueberry muffins—dammit, of course I can’t find it now—but they had the…the…”

You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers in a sort of sprinkly motion like you’re try to demonstrate what you’d seen. “The crumbly shit, Carm! I don’t know what the fuck it’s called.”

You reach over and take both of his hands. “Point is, they looked really yummy and I wondered if you’d help me make them?”

Carmy starts chuckling. He definitely knew what you were talking about with your hand gesture, since you’re always making them and he’s got them memorized by now, but it’s so fucking fun to see your brain work.

He begins to gather up your trash and put it back in the bag he brought it in.

“Yeah, I think I have enough flour and shit. There’s some frozen blueberries in the back of the freezer. But do you want the crumbly shit, or streusel?”

“Carmen, sweet angel baby, I don’t know what streusel is.”

“It’s usually got cinnamon and nuts and shit, so that’s what we’ll do because I know how you like your nuts, love.”

You take his hand when he offers it to help you stand. You smack a big, wet kiss on his lip. You let your eyes drag up and down his form before you begin to walk back to the car.

“Sure do, Carmy.”

————

“You don’t need a recipe or anything?”

Carm presses a sweet kiss to your lips and passes you a few fresh blueberries to snack on. He’d grabbed some at the store on the way home because was he really going to teach his girlfriend how to make muffins with a questionable bag of frozen blueberries? Fuck no.

“Nah, it’s all pretty simple. I’ll tell you everything to do, and I can write one out for you if you ever wanna make ‘em when I’m not home.”

You pinch his sides, raising up on your tippy toes to express your giddiness. “Really? Holy shit, I love that.”

He lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah?” Carmen cups your chin, tilting your mouth up to meet his because he wants a kiss.

You start to talk while his lips are still on yours. “It’s your handwriting. I have a thing for it.”

He bites your bottom lip playfully. “You’re insane,” he says, smiling through each syllable. He pulls back briefly. “That reminds me, I got you somethin’.”

Carmen walks to the living room and pulls something out of his work bag. “Does this have to do with my insanity?” you ask, jokingly.

He shakes his head. “Only with your insanely cute ass.” He holds up an apron. “It’s your honorary chef apron. Ta-da.”

It’s the same blue as his at work, except it has a ruffled hem and the logo for The Bear embroidered on the chest. Your brows shoot up.

“You got this today, Carm?” The alarm in your voice makes him smile.

Carmy walks up to you and starts tying it around your waist. “No, no, not today. I got it awhile back, but you bringing up muffins made me remember I’d ordered it. It came with the chef’s whites and shit.”

“You got it made for me?” Your voice pitches up a notch, causing Carmen to spin you around so you’re facing him.

“‘Course I did. Couldn’t leave my number one out. And yours is cuter than everyone else’s.”

Your eyes water, just slightly, and you start smothering Carmy’s face with kisses until he starts to giggle boyishly. “Okay, okay!” he fusses, “No tears, only muffins.” He grabs your hips and moves you in front of the counter where he’s laid out all the ingredients for you. “Let’s get movin’ now, yeah? This shit is making me hungry.”

————

“Why do they tell you to fold it in? I’m not doing fuckin’ laundry, Bear.”

Carmy is sitting on the counter next to you, watching you intensely. There are floury handprints on your apron and you have your tongue poking out in concentration. He keeps bringing a straw to your lips every few minutes to keep you hydrated, like this is a very important surgical operation.

“Probably ‘cause it looks like folds when you do that?” You smack him on the knee and continue to fold in all the ingredients, pretending like you don’t see exactly what he means.

Once you feel like it’s all combined you let go of the spatula and turn to Carmen.

“What now, Bear?”

“You gotta mix up the sugar and the flour and the cinnamon, and then you can add your little nut mixture and I’ll show you how to do the butter.”

You reach for the collection of small glass bowls Carmy set out for you. “So sassy,” you say, shaking your shoulder just a little.

He smiles at you and extends a socked foot out to lightly kick you on the butt. But you were expecting it, so you reach behind you and grab his ankle, tickling the bottom of his foot, which is where he’s most ticklish. It’s his Achilles heel.

Carmy releases a short bout of laughter before pulling away from you to catch his breath. “Fucker.”

You grin, leaning over the sink to wash your hands for the umpteenth time. “But I’m your fucker, angel boy.”

He hops off the counter, scooching in behind you to press a kiss to your clammy cheek. “Can’t argue with that,” he says.

Carm watches over your shoulder as you add a small mix of crushed almonds, granola, and pecans to your streusel topping. “Good job, baby. Now I need you to cut a few pats of butter and add ‘em in. Just do a few—yeah, just like that—and you can start mixing it up. You can use your hands if you need to since it gets so difficult to stir.”

The warmth of Carmy’s chest against your back should be unnerving, what with him observing your every move.

But it isn’t. Rather, it's comforting. When the butter combines with your little potion mix as much as it can, you use your hands to make sure nothing gets left behind.

“You’re very good at making sure the crumbly shit is crumbly, lovebug.”

You look over your shoulder at Carmen as you finally slide the finished tray into the oven. “I’m givin’ you a run for your money, aren’t I, Bear?”

He smiles at you, reaching around your waist to untie your apron and lift it over your head. He hangs it on the little rack meant for keys. “Might have to tell Marcus about this. Get you in there, helpin’ him decorate donuts and shit.”

You push up on your toes and wrap your arms around Carmy’s neck. His go around the small of your back like that’s the only job they’ve ever had.

“So you can throw them on the floor?” you quip, biting your lip to hold back a laugh. You know you’re being a little shit, but at least it’s a memory you can all laugh at now.

Carmy’s lips quirk up at the corners. His right hand lowers and squeezes at the fat of your ass, a little menacingly, but loving all the same. “Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

You lower your forehead so that it’s resting on Carm’s chest. He feels your giggle against his skin. Feels the way your fingers play with his necklace where they rest at the back of his neck. It’s giving him goosebumps.

“Nope,” you say, that cute little teasing lilt to your voice.

Carmy tightens his grip around your waist and lifts you up into the air, spinning you around his small kitchen a few times. Just enough that you squeal out of surprise, out of pure, unadulterated joy because of this romantic ass gesture that feels straight out of a story book. You pop your feet up for good measure. You could never let Princess Mia down like that.

When he sets you down, you both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath with these stupid happy smiles on your faces. And right there, you both feel that little bolt of electricity. The one that tells you this will never go away. This connection is everlasting.

It takes a minute for you to register that you’re both shuffling lightly across the floor, in gentle, sloppy circles.

You look down at Carmy’s socked feet and back up to meet his eyes. “Does this count as dancing?”

He scratches his nose. “Couldn’t tell you.”

You kiss the spot where he was self-consciously rubbing. “Maybe we should practice, you know, in case we need to dance someday.”

Carmen snorts. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

You play with the curls around his ears, remembering your promise to give him that trim. “Have you ever danced, Mr. Berzatto?”

He kisses you. “Only alone in my room.”

You kiss him. “That what you do when I’m not around?”

He kisses you a second time. “Yep. Busted. But Richie used to try and make us play Just Dance with him when he got drunk.” He grins at the little chuckle you let out. “What about you?” he starts. “Have a past dancing career?”

You shake your head, admiring every little freckle on his face. Every little dry patch of skin, every line.

“In high school, me and my girlfriends would usually just hold hands and spin around in a little dance circle since we were all single. It was very cool of us.”

“I would’ve paid to see that,” Carmy says, cupping your jaw. You grin up at him, eyes twinkling. You imagine you’ve got big ‘ol pink hearts fluttering back and forth at him.

You both melt into each other after that. Slowly shuffling around the kitchen, hips swaying to music that isn’t there. Usually Carmy would be on the verge of shitting his pants in a situation like this, but…it’s you. You’re safe.

Why wouldn’t he dance with you?

Carmen brings his lips to your ear. “Is there music in your head right now?”

“Rick Astley,” you whisper.

Carmy blinks.

And then he tosses his head back, laughing. “Seriously?”

“Nope. I just wanted to hear you laugh,” you say, and kiss the chuckle right off his lips. He kisses you back, pecking your lips three times in quick succession because one is just never enough. You tug on a curl. “We’re stupid in love, aren’t we?”

“We’re dancing, shuffling like old people really, in my shitty kitchen on a weeknight, and waiting on blueberry muffins that I’m pretty sure we’ll finish within the hour.”

“Oh my god, Bear.”

“Yeah, baby. We’re stupid in love.”

You are. And when you sit on the kitchen floor, your socked feet in his lap, eating warm muffins and getting butter all over your fingers and down your wrists, that only confirms it.

Those are the best damn muffins you’ve ever had. And Carmy’s lips taste like blueberries for the rest of the night.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

841 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 4 months ago

Text

the good, the bad, and the dirty [kinktober special]

pairing: sugardaddy!kate bishop x sub!reader x dom!wanda maximoff x dom!carol danver x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: kate might be young and inexperienced but she's a damn good negotiator. so, in search of a merger that will catapult bishop security to the top of the food chain, she shares her most prized possession with the other CEOs.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI -> porn with almost no plot but a bit of exposition; slightly dubcon at first but consent is given!; kate being far too cocky for her own good; daddy kink [kate]; mommy kink [wanda]; fingering [R receiving]; cunnilingus [R receiving]; mentions of humiliation; so many petnames; praise + degradation; brief choking; voyeurism; a dash of petplay/R being referred to as "pet"; implied dom/sub dynamics

wordcount: 3.5k

a/n: hihihi, it's me again! i thought my last fic was the smuttiest fic i'd ever written but i think this one takes the cake. it's an idea i've been toying with for a long time and i'm very excited to send it out to the world. there's so much more i want to do with this concept so the ending is a little open. SPEAKING OF! i'm pretty sure i'll end up writing a part two to my recent wandanat fic so keep an eye out for that. anyway, hope you enjoy <3 [and like always, feel free to share your thoughts via my inbox]

* * * * * * *

Never in your life would you have imagined you'd end up being the girlfriend of one of New York's youngest, and richest, CEOs. More than that, you would have never imagined you'd agree to being her sugar baby. And yet...here you were.

In your defense, Kate Bishop could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Especially when she wanted something.

You're not sure what about you captivated her so much but you hadn't been able to shake her off after your first meeting. There was nothing even particularly exciting about how you met.

You had gone into a ridiculously expensive, and awfully busy, coffee shop around Fifth Avenue in search of a good drink and a sweet pastry to take the sting off of being fired yet again. In your frustration, you hadn't noticed Kate's speeding form and she'd ended up running into you.

Thankfully, there was no coffee spilled, but that didn't stop the brunette from offering you far too many apologies in a short span of time. You'd never been particularly bold and yet, you told her she could buy you a drink to make up for it.

Your boldness was rewarded by the young CEO and before you knew it, Kate had become a part of your daily routine.

The relationship slowly progressed into something less sweet the more time you spent with her. The more you got to learn about her desires, about her need to take care of her partner in every way possible.

Her trauma probably had a lot to do with that, but instead of spending her money on therapy, she spent it on you. Hence her transition from supportive girlfriend to devoted sugar daddy.

It might not the world's greatest arrangement, by any means, but there's no denying your fondness for the young CEO.

Sure, she can be reckless and borderline cruel when she wants to be, but for all her flaws, she feels like...safety.

It's what keeps you coming back to her. It's not the money, or the expensive toys, or the endless gifts, or even her looks. It's the way she can read you with a single look. The way she's so fine-tuned to everything that makes you tick. Whether it's in the bedroom or outside of it, Kate knows you.

More than that, she relishes in it. In knowing you better than you know yourself and guiding you through the ups and downs that come with a relationship like yours.

There's nothing Kate loves more than surprising you with things you've always wanted to try but can never ask for. She gets the usual rush of power that she loves so much, but she also gets to please you, which you're quickly learning matters to her far more than anything else.

Maybe that's why you should have known what she wanted when she asked you to come to the office with her. You knew she had an important meeting set for later in the day, something about a business proposal she was trying to finish up, but she asked you to come with her anyway.

Everything was normal until she felt for her meeting, only to ask you to come into the room a few minutes later.

You obeyed pretty much instantly, but your obidience didn't take away your nervousness as you stepped into the room.

"Come here, princess." Kate's voice is sweet but no less firm as her eyes rake up and down your body.

The underlying command in her words can't be ignored, not that you'd try even if you could.

You're acutely aware of the eyes trained on you as you make your way over to the brunette. The smirk on her face is far more attractive than it has any right to be and she happily extends her hand out to you once you're close enough.

She helps you climb onto her lap, your back flush against her front. The warmth of her body helps your tense muscles relax as you sink back against her.

"Good girl," she murmurs, her arms wrapping loosely around your waist. "Just sit here and look pretty for me, okay?"

You hum in response and do your best to keep your nervous fidgeting to a minimum.

The meeting resumes as if nothing happened and yet the other women's eyes seem to return to you every few seconds. You try to keep your head down and ignore their looks, but there's a certain fire in them that you can't ignore.

Wanda's gaze seems particularly intense and it makes your thighs clench together despite how badly you don't want them to.

If anybody notices, they don't say anything. Kate's hand makes its way onto your lap, though, her fingers slowly tracing shapes across your thighs.

"You can't be serious, Kate," you hear Natasha say. "A merger will never work."

"Why not?" Kate questions. "We've all got the means to support it and I doubt jealousy will be an issue."

"You sure about that?" Carol asks, her eyes trailing back and forth between you and the young CEO.

Kate's grip on you tightens for a second and you barely hold back a gasp as she lifts your leg up, slowly maneuvering you until your legs are spread and you're completely vulnerable to their gazes. "It's why we're all here, isn't it? I have something you guys want and I want you to accept my proposal. I think there's a way for all of us to get exactly what we want."

"Kate," you whisper, your hand shooting down to grab her wrist.

She shushes you before placing a series of feather-light kisses to your neck. "It's alright, baby. Just trust me."

You do trust her, but no amount of trust can make the situation any less nerve wracking. It's impossible to deny your attraction to the other women, though, and as much as you hate to admit it...a part of you is really interested to see how things will play out.

Kate's never been good at sharing her toys and you can't imagine her possessive instincts won't get triggered once things get started.

You're eager to find out and judging by the way she's squirming under you, your lover feels exactly the same way.

"What do you say, ladies?" The brunette asks. "I'll let you have your fun and then we can get back to business. And by business, I, of course, mean you accepting my proposal."

The three women exchange looks, each of them wearing a different kind of incredulous look. Carol looks surprisingly impressed, Natasha's gaze is glued to the spot between your legs, and Wanda seems mostly amused by it all.

None of them seem particularly against the idea, though, and your blood boils with a different kind of heat. You've never felt more desired in your life.

And sure, maybe, you should feel a little humiliated too but you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when you've secretly fantasized about this for longer than you'll ever let yourself admit.

"And you're sure about this?" Wanda asks, her eyes moving from Kate to you. "Both of you?"

Kate's fingers stop moving, leaving you suspended in the air as you try to catch your breath. The check-in is more than appreciated and you allow yourself to think things over. To truly analyze the situation in front of you.

Unfortunately, the situation in front of you is far too intoxicating for you to be able to think properly. All you can focus on is how incredible their attention feels, how weirdly powerful their desire makes you feel. You don't know it, but you've got them all wrapped right around your finger.

They would do anything for you.

"I'm sure," you say, your voice slightly shaky. "I'm in if you are."

"Told you," Kate says. "My good girl isn't afraid of getting a little naughty."

Her words make you clench around nothing, your thighs attempting to close to ease some of the growing ache settled between in your core. The brunette doesn't let you get too far, though. Her hands drift down to grip your thighs, slowly spreading them wider until you're fully spread out on her lap.

The position leaves you vulnerable and far more aroused than you ever thought you would be. Along the way, your skirt had moved up, giving the three CEOs a tantalizing view of your soaked panties.

Carol groans at the sight of you. "Fuck, look at her, she's drenched."

Her words have an instant effect on you and Kate's nails dig into your skin in an attempt to get you to stop squirming so much.

"She's desperate for you," your lover points out almost absentmindedly. "Are you guys gonna stop stalling, or should I give you a preview of what our deal will give you access to?"

"You're getting cocky, Bishop," Natasha says with a low chuckle. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Do you?" Kate bites back, her fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh until they reach the soaked fabric of your panties.

The gasp you let out is instantaneous and the sound seems to echo across the large meeting room. It's just one small sound and yet it seems to ignite the same thought in each of the CEOs.

"Fine," Wanda says. "We'll play your game. But don't be surprised when your little girlfriend ends up hooked on us."

The green-eyed woman's words made Kate laugh. "Trust me, the last thing I'll be is surprised if that happens."

Their conversation did little to soothe your growing need.

Kate obviously knows that, considering the way she continues teasing you, callused fingers hovering over your aching clit. Your underwear is practically stuck to your slick folds already, giving everyone a perfect view of your dripping entrance.

"Come on, baby." The brunette's breath hits your ear. "You know what you have to do."

You do know. But that doesn't make it any less humiliating. Then again, the slight sting of humiliation also makes it feel better.

"Please," you whimper. "Please touch me. I need you."

Carol can't even try to hold herself back after hearing that. She instantly jumps up from her seat, her smile so sweet it borders on dangerous. "Don't worry, honey, I'll give you exactly what you're begging for."

You're not sure what to expect from her as she approaches you. You watch silently, Kate's hands keeping you spread wide open and grounded in the moment.

"Such a good girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" Carol sinks down onto her knees in front you, instantly leaning in to trail her lips across your inner thigh. "So responsive. It's cute."

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of her mouth on your skin. Her touch is different from Kate's, no less adoring but far less hesitant. She knows exactly what she wants and exactly what to do to get it. She doesn't even need to ask.

Her fingers drag your ruined underwear to the side and she groans as your cunt is finally exposed to her eager eyes. "Fuck, Kate, how do you not spend all day buried inside her?"

The feeling of a hand wrapping around your throat makes you jump. Your eyes open only to be met with Wanda's dark gaze, her lips curling upward as you relax once more. She doesn't speak her approval but the soft squeeze she gives you is more than enough for you.

"I've done it before," Kate admits. "Pretty sure I've fucked her in every corner of my office."

"That's because you're impatient," Natasha says. "And reckless."

The older woman doesn't sound particularly amused by what's happening in front of her, but you don't miss the way she keeps palming at her crotch. Just because she doesn't seem to pleased by this idea doesn't mean she isn't enjoying the show.

Carol steals all your thoughts away in an instant as her tongue makes contact with your folds. You both moan at the feeling and your hands reach out to grip her hair before you can stop them.

Kate stops them for you, though. She grips your wrists and brings them behind your back without a word.

The blonde between your legs takes advantage of this and her hands make their way onto your thighs. Your hips buck even as she holds you down, her tongue drawing teasing circles around your swollen clit.

"Hands behind your back, baby," Kate mumbles. "Just let them use you. It''s what you want, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Good girl."

The praise doesn't come from the brunette, it comes from Natasha and the sound of her approval makes your walls clench around nothing.

"Come on, 'Tasha, stop being such a grump," Wanda says with a roll of her eyes. "We can all tell you're enjoying the show."

"I still don't approve of this."

"You don't have to approve of it to have a good time, detka."

The redhead narrows her eyes, a silent warning in her gaze. Wanda seems unfazed by it, though, clearly more than used to the other woman's prickly personality. "You're worse than the Bishop girl."

Their conversation is interrupted when Carol pushes her tongue inside your tight entrance, drawing out a desperate moan from your throat. Even with her tight grip on your thighs, you manage to buck your hips into her face, nothing but pure desperation driving your movements.

It's a little embarrassing how close you already are to falling apart, but it's not like you can help it. Not when they've all been doing their best to drive you crazy since you walked into the meeting room.

Wanda gives your throat a gentle squeeze in an attempt to bring you attention back to her. "I think someone's getting a little ahead of themselves."

"That tends to happen when she's needy like this," Kate says, easily offering up details of your sex life as if it's nothing.

"Cute." Her free hand finds its way between your legs, her fingers teasing your clit and causing you to cry out once more. "You still need to beg for it, sweetheart."

Your response is instantaneous.

"Please, can I cum?" You beg, ignoring how humiliating it feels.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, baby, Wanda's not easily impressed." Your lover's hands find their way under your shirt and she slowly caresses your heated skin. It's a small thing, but it's designed to remind you she's right there, looking after you and making sure you're okay.

Carol's tongue continues exploring your cunt as Wanda continues playing with your clit, both of them working in tandem to drive you absolutely out of your mind. It works far too well, considering how difficult it is for you to form words.

To top it all off, Kate's hands move up to play with your breasts while Natasha keeps eye contact with you. It's almost like she's challenging you to keep yourself together when it's so obvious that you're an inch away from losing all control over yourself.

As much as you might move being stubborn, there's no way for you to win out over the pleasure. No way to stop yourself from sinking deeper and deeper into their control.

"Please, mommy," you whine before you even know what you're doing. "Please let me cum for you. I wanna be your good girl. Please-"

Despite how messy and borderline incoherent your pleas are, they all take pity on you and wordlessly decide to give you what you want.

"Good girl. Cum for us, sweetheart."

Your body instantly responds to her words, even though she's not usually the person you ask permission from. Kate doesn't seem to care, though, her eager eyes taking in the blissful expression on your face as you let go for them.

"That's my good girl, I'm so proud of you, you're perfect." The brunette continues to whisper endless praises as Carol draws out your orgasm, happily cleaning you up as you make a mess of yourself.

Your body trembles in Kate's lap, chest heaving as the remaining waves of pleasure make their way through you. You're pretty sure you've never had an experience as intense as this one, no orgasm as absolutely breathtaking. (Not that you'll ever tell them that, they're way too competitive to handle the information.)

The hand that's wrapped around your throat moves up, gently tilting your chin until yuo're forced to look up at Wanda. Her usually vibrant eyes are dark and you can practically see every dirty thought that flashes across her mind. No one has to say it out loud for you to know you're far from done.

"You're so fuzzy already, aren't you?" The older woman asks, even though she already knows the answer.

Her thumb brushes your lower lip and you part your lips for her. A warm chuckle slips out of her as you take her thumb into your mouth, your eager submission plastered all over your face.

You can hear Kate's voice, no doubt trying to convince Natasha to take the stick out of her ass and have fun, but your focus is entirely placed on Wanda's eyes and Carol's lips trailing up and down your trembling thighs.

You're not sure how much time goes by like that, with your mind completly submerged under the comfort and safety they all provide you with. All at once, though, things pick up again.

Wanda steps back from you, drawing a whine out of your lips when she takes her thumb with her, and Carol effortlessly picks you up from Kate's lap, strong muscles flexing under her tight shirt. You enjoy enjoy the sight as she carries you over to the meeting table.

She sets you down on the edge of the ornate table and her hands start undressing you before you can even comprehend what's happening. You've always made fun of Kate for being too impatient but the blonde might have her beat considering the way she practically rips your shirt off of you in her hurry.

"Hey!" Your lover pipes up. "That was expensive."

"You talk too much," Natasha says.

It's not until you hear her talk again that you realize she's taken your spot on Kate's lap. Despite the position, there's no doubt who's in control between the two of them. You're sure you've never seen the young CEO so submissive before.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't an instant turn on.

Your legs wrap around Carol once she manages to undress you, pulling her closer to you with an impatience that rivals hers.

"You're gorgeous, baby," she mumbles as her hands explore your chest, her fingers twisting and pulling at your hardened nipples. "I can't get enough of you."

"Carol," you groan, trying to pull at her clothes only to be pushed onto your back.

"Don't tell me you forgot about me, sweetheart," Wanda teases.

There's a glimmer of amusement in her eyes as she watches you struggle to comprehend what's happening. It's not like it's surprising considering how hazy they've left you. How thoughtless they've rendered you.

"Aw, Wands, she was enjoying the show," Carol coos, her fingers spreading your folds open to reveal how wet you are. Again.

"Is that right?" Natasha's voice sounds far too close despite the distance. If you try hard enough, you can see her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure while Kate nips at her neck. "You like watching your daddy be put in her place?"

You nod but Wanda's subtle eyebrow raise is a command you can't ignore. "Yes, I like it. Wanna watch."

"That's adorable...but I'm not quite done with you yet."

Carol doesn't give you a chance to process her words before she's plunging two of her fingers deep inside your sensitive cunt, her groans mixing with your moans and drowning out the sounds of Kate pleasuring Natasha.

Wanda's left out for the moment, busying herself with removing her clothes as she takes in the scene in front of her. She's sure she's never seen a more sucessful business meeting before. None of them will admit it, but Kate's idea was perfect.

#kate bishop x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #carol danvers x reader #kinktober 2024 #wandanat x you #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff smut #carol danvers smut #natasha romanoff smut #kate bishop smut #avengers fanfiction #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

736 notes · View notes

thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months ago

Text

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

275 notes · View notes

tra1nchi · 7 months ago

Note

SO SINCE THIS IS A PRETTY FREAKY BLOG THOUGHT I MIGHT ADD TO IT SINCE THIS IDEA HAS BEEN IN MY MIND LATELY 🌚 BEAR WITH ME

SO FTM! READER WITH THE ALIENS THAT INVADED YOUR SHIP FUCKING U 24/7 AND NOT WANTING TO REPLACE YOU BLAH BLAH BLAH....BUT ONE DAY AS THEYRE FUCKING YOU THEYRE WONDERING WHAT THIS STRANGE LUQID THAT JUST CAME OUT OF YOU IS AS YOU SQUIRT OVER THEIR ALIEN COCKS >_<!! ALSO THE ALIENS THINKING THE BINDER YOURE WEARING IS LIKE ATTACHED TO YOU ONLY FOR IT TO GO LOOSE AND FOR ONE OF THEM TO REMOVE IT AND BOOM TWO BOUNCY STRESS BALLS :0 LIKE A MYSTERY BOX !!!

okay this probably the freakiest thing I ever written or thought of 😞 my bad pookie ITS 100% OKAY IF YOU DONT WANNA DO THIS IM JS RAMBLING YK THOUGHT IT MIGHT MAKE A GOOD FIC, TYY HAVE A GOOD DAY :) ♡

MINORS DNI!! Bttm ftm reader,, threesome aliens,,reader has bewbs,,an3l,,

You've lost track of time since your ship had been taken over by the monstrous creatures,,they weren't aggressive and had no interest in killing your crewmates but rather claiming you as their own,,

Your crewmates betrayed you,,making a deal with the aliens to let their ship go free while they take you on their own,,claiming you as they're sweet human pet,,which soon led them wanting or rather needing to mate with you,,you seemed like the perfect vessel for their spawn!!

Fucking you for the first time was exhilarating for them,,one of their long slimy dicks deep inside of your ass,,while another's claws runs curiously around your body,, it's hands slipping down to investigate your wettening boypussy,,

The one who was fucking you from behind assumed that the binder that was hungging your chest tightly was some kind of armour protection for your species,,they weren't the smartest of species and they couldn't figure out the shiny metal clips came apart!!

It had been hours since they started fucking you,, a soft whimper could be heard from the alien when he feels you grow even wetter,,the sex was growing even more intense that you could barely handle it,,a shiver runs down your spin as you feel your binder come loose,,

The alien seems surprised and almost concerned thinking you were injured until his clawed hands opened the binder all the way!! His eyes widening as it reveals squishy mounds from your chest,,curiously moving to squeeze then which seem to only spur the two aliens on!!!

#{anon asks}#{h4rny ask}#{bttm male reader}#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x sub male reader #x bottom male reader #Aliens who have no idea about human anatomy is my lifeline fr #Crewmates..like amogus...#monster fucker #?

469 notes · View notes

bi-writes · 29 days ago

Text

this is so fucking hilarious to me that you think AI could write what i put out, and frankly it’s insulting that you can’t recognize shit when it sticks to the wall, and you’re going to accuse me of putting out something that isn’t original and of my own making. not to mention that every single part of my series is an answered request.

everything i write is a labor of love. i have a full-time job outside of this. i have bills to pay. i do this for free. i stay up late sometimes to write even though i’ll pay for it at work the next day. i cry over blank documents and feel guilty for running out of ideas or taking too long between updates. i have been incredibly vocal on this blog about how i feel about AI. i would die before using AI to write a story for me, even come up with a sentence for me, even give me an idea. the mail-order bride trope might not be original, but every word i ever wrote for that series is.

you are an insane individual to come into my inbox and accuse me of this. on anon. without evidence. and without putting it through your thick head that maybe, actually, someone fed my fic into an algorithm and stole my work.

edit: i’ve redacted the ai app mentioned to not give a free promotion for your bullshit app

#im keeping anon off #fuck you anon honestly be so fucking fr #honestly im so upset i think im taking a break #it makes me so fucking sick to think that someone made a chatbot of my work

265 notes · View notes

revelboo · 4 months ago

Note

thank you for sharing your writings!! reading ur fics after work has helped w my stress levels so much lol <3333 have a good day!!

I’m glad you enjoy them!

It Had To Be You pt 3

Megatron x Reader

• There’s something oddly fascinating with the slow rise and fall of its chest with its breathing. With the unconscious flex of little fingers. It’s weak. Contemptible, really. Soft, too, as he runs a servo along its spine where it sprawls on its side on the berth he’s sitting on. That light contact sparking through him in that eerie sense of familiarity that makes the servos of his other hand clench on the edge of the birth, metal groaning and warping under his grip. The human sucks in a sharp breath at the sound, head coming up. “So, you live,” he growls, tone carefully indifferent. As if he hasn’t been keeping watch over it and hating himself for it.

• It’s not over. You’re supposed to wake up and this particular nightmare be done with, but no. You have no idea where you are, but your personal red-eyed, metal demon is right there, leaning over you with a look of mild curiosity. And as your heart goes racing, adrenaline jolts through you and your lunging to escape without thought. Right over the edge of what you immediately realize is a very high surface. Your scream cuts off when something smacks into you hard enough it knocks the breath out of you. The monster caught you and as you look up, it’s livid. Furious with your poorly thought out escape attempt.

• Denta bared, he stares at the tiny human in his grip. You’d rather jump from a height sure to break those little bones than be a prisoner? He can understand that, but isn’t about to allow it. Not until he overcomes this awful fascination. “Little fool.” He cages the human between his palms, feeling it struggling to get free and trying to calm the lash of fear that its stupidity struck through him. “Try that again and I’ll break those little bones for you so you can’t try a third time.”

• Breath shuddering out of you at that snarled threat, you curl into a ball. Big and scary thought you’d tried a death before dishonor apparently, not realizing that your flight had been pure, mad terror. You have no interest in finding out how serious that threat is, because you can believe this monster would do it. One of the huge hands caging you shifts and you stare up at that angry face. What does it even want with you? Why take you to begin with? Those huge fingers shift against you, one tapping almost idly against your shoulder as it mutters something unintelligible in its own language. Somehow those soft, little taps are careful. Almost gentle when you’re sure it could bruise just as easily. That at least sinks through the fear paralyzing you. Despite its threats, it hasn’t hurt you, yet. It’s been… surprisingly careful in handling you so far. Like it doesn’t want to hurt you.

• It’s staring up at him through the tangle of its hair now. There’s intelligence in that stare. Calculation, too. Plotting your next pitiful escape attempt? He runs a servo along its tiny arm, then back up and over to tip its chin up. Little hands immediately grab at his servo, trying to push it away. The effort is pitiful, but it still lifts through him in a satisfying rush, because there is some spirit there in that fragile form. Some fight. And he wants that, he realizes. Wants to watch you struggle against him, try to resist him. “More like it,” he laughs, the tip of his servo running up to muss that soft hair as the human tries to squirm away from the attention.

Previous Next

#transformers #megatron x reader #megatron #transformers x reader

287 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 8 months ago

Note

I’ve been soooo obsessed with the babyhaul series.So,I was wondering if you could do an ep where the babe finally develops his quirk.Aizawa dropped the babe at the U.A daycare and a few hours pass and he gets called to the office bc his little one developed their quirk (You can pick the quirk bc I have no idea what it should be)

Feel free to ignore this <333

Title: quirk

Fandom: bnha

Characters: Yamada, Aizawa, Nedzu

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Yamada x Aizawa

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader, fluff

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Quirks were fun.

Especially when you get a call that your toddler rearrange the structural design of a block into a pile of sand, causing the daycare staff to have to call the parent to said daycare.

"What did he do?" Aizawa asked exasperated as he and his husband sat with their three year old, (name) sporting a cool quirk suppressant bracelet for children as he played with his papas fingers and wedding band "well it seems he developed his quirk, he turned a wood block into sand and then his cookie into a ducky toy and began crying when he didn't have his cookie anymore" the head of the U.A daycare explained and the two teachers shared a glance.

(Name) Had his biological father's quirk.

"Thank you for telling us, if you could excuse us" Aizawa lifted the little one In his arms as they went to Nedzu, they knew this time would come but god they wished they had a bit more time. (Name) Was confused as his dad's looked serious "papa! I got my quirk!" (Name) Tried to make conversation with Yamada who smiled down at his son that was in Aizawas hold "yeah, now we gotta see uncle Nedzu to teach you how to use it" (name) looked confused but just went with it, uncle Nedzu was the smartest guy ever so...

"Uncle zuzu! I got my quirk!" (Name) Said excitedly as he was freed from his dad's hold and set in the ground, waddling/ running towards the principal "So I have been told little mouse, very exciting" Nedzu said handing a cookie to the child who went around his desk to see him properly since he wasn't able to see above the desk.

"The commission isn't to know about his abilities so we can work that to our advantage" (name) was sitting on the carpet with his toys, playing happily while the adults put their plan into action, the daycare trained and signed enough NDA's to make a judge sweat "We will begin quirk training immediately, if he can do something like that without breaking a sweat now... That's something to keep close tabs on"

It was well known that quirks could be more powerful through generations, evolving into something even bigger than itself and (name) had no reaction to using his quirk even by accident, turning wood to sand wasn't an easy feat after all.

"It will only be for an hour a day, he is still quite young" Nedzu showed them folders he had prepared, a very cohesive and airtight plan that had the parents impressed "there's even snack time" Aizawa said with a huff, it fit in for their pick-up time for Eri and everything.

"And if course I'll be there in case something happens" Aizawa said looking back at his son who was in his own world.

That night, Aizawa and Yamada sat with their tot and explained a little bit about his quirk, (name) was already mentally developing faster than they were expecting, they were sure that Kisaki did something to cause that as the boy seemed to be understanding things faster and better than his peers.

"I can make cookies..." The power (name) realized he has was a horrifying realization to the parents who couldn't help but laugh at the fact that making cookies was his first instinct.

"Use that power wisely" Yamada snorted as they went home, they had some things to order and have lunch, (name)s choice.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #yamazawa #child male reader #child reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader

431 notes · View notes

deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 11 months ago

Text

Half A Bed

No, this is not the "only one bed" trope I'm afraid, although if anyone has any ideas for a fic w that trope, do drop you ideas in the inbox!

Summary: You and Astarion share a bed

At this point, it has become a habit for Astarion to move and leave half his bed free for you to plop yourself on whenever you enter his tent, despite all his grumbling about needing to move from his comfortable position. You then accept the invitation and happily lie down next to him, stretching your arms above your head with a relaxed sigh.

Tonight, Astarion wraps his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck and deeply inhales your scent. He loves how you smell like him, bergamot filling his nose and he lets out a contented sigh. You exude a pleasant warmth as per usual, sharply contrasting his own cold body. He shifts a little so that you can wrap an arm around him, nestling him in a cocoon of your embrace. His cold slender finger draws random shapes on your stomach while he rests his head on your shoulder, enjoying the silence that has befallen his tent.

It wasn’t long ago when such silence would have made him uncomfortable, unsure of what to do, unsure of what you wanted to do, but you had explained yourself upon noticing his discomfort, telling him that sometimes you were just too tired to do anything but still wanted his company. He had agreed to allowing you to do that, despite his reservations about what he himself could do during that time but soon realised that you really didn’t mind what he did.

If he felt just as exhausted as you, he would simply lie next to you, cuddling in the bed. If he still had some energy to spend, he would play with your hair or trace doodles on your stomach. If he felt peckish, he would drink from your neck. The only thing he couldn’t quite bring himself to do was trance whilst you were still awake. He told himself it was because he wanted to watch over you, but in reality, it was because deep down, he still feared that one day you would leave him.

The comfortable silence washes over the both of you, save for the quiet sound of your breathing and the rustle of book pages as you read the book you had brought along with you.

You glance down to check on your vampire lover, a small smile on your face when you notice how relaxed he is and start running your hand through his hair with your free hand. He croons in response and leans into the rhythmic touch, letting the calm wash over him. Your smile only grows wider, a small chuckle slipping from your lips which causes Astarion to look up at you, eyebrows furrowed.

“What, may I ask, is so funny?”

“Nothing, Star. Don’t worry.” You press a kiss to his creased forehead. “Although, if you keep frowning like that, there will be permanent wrinkles on your forehead.”

“Excuse me? I am a vampire! Eternally young and beautiful, all thanks to my already handsome features from before I was turned.” He huffs, burrowing his face deeper into your shoulder.

“Mmhm, if you say so,” you hum, setting aside your book to fully focus on him. As you play with strands of his curly silver hair, he gives yet another exaggerated huff, wrapping his arms around you and lightly nips at your exposed shoulder. He gives you a pout as he has done many times before and at this point, you would think you’d be immune to it but something about the way he pouts makes your heart melt each and every time.

“Come here,” you groan, rolling over to wrap your arms around him. He grins, happily nuzzling into your shoulder and welcomes the familiar embrace, filled with warmth and love. He feels safest like this, knowing that whatever happens, he will always have you to return to, that you will always have his back just like he has yours. You’re also permanently warm, and while that was something you found annoying, Astarion thanked whoever it was that made you such. He never needed to worry about the cold, not when all he needed to do was snuggle against you whenever he started to get cold, or simply felt like it. Not once did you ever turn him down, and he doubted you would ever do so.

You bury your face into his soft curls, suppressing yet another chuckle when you hear him mutter something along the lines of being one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.

“My apologies, one of the most beautiful vampires in all of Faerun.” You snort.

“Apology accepted,” he crows, ego stroked.

You can’t help but laugh, holding him close and pressing more kisses to the top of his head.

“Simply calling you beautiful doesn’t do you justice, you know.” You ruffle his hair.

“Oh? Do go on, darling.” His eyes twinkle with amusement and happiness.

“You see,” you indulge him, “it’s really easy to call you beautiful because everyone does that, and the phrase ends up losing all meaning. Calling you…say…‘my entire world’ however, still holds a lot of meaning because nobody else calls you that.” You’re not sure why you’re being sappy tonight but you do know that you’re more than happy to give Astarion all the compliments in the world and more. He deserves at least that much.

Tears prick the edges of his eyes at your words and he quickly buries his tearing face in your shoulder, not wanting you to see how your words have affected him.

“It means everything, coming from you,” he whispers, the words struggling to leave his clogged up throat. He squeezes your hand tightly, hoping that the small gesture can convey everything he cannot say and from the look you give him, you’ve received the message.

He shifts to rest his head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and closes his eyes, letting the feeling he can’t qute describe wash over him. He sinks into the endless abyss of warmth that is you, barely aware of your arm moving to wrap around him to pull him closer but he likes the support that it brings. Even if he were to sink, he knows — no trusts — that you will be there to catch him. Maybe he could let his guard down for just a little while, a short respite from the exhausting day and trust that when he opens his eyes again, you’ll still be there, watching over him with that soft look in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave him when he’s at his most vulnerable, would you?

Ignoring the nagging feeling in his heart, he lets himself slip into a trance, lulled by the soothing sound of your heartbeat and the warmth of your body heat. It’s times like these where he misses being alive, he wishes he could feel his own heartbeat, feel the warmth of his body but when you still curl up against him even on the chilliest of nights, he thinks to himself that perhaps he is alright the way he is, with his cold undead body and sanguine hunger. You may have already told him such when he was confronted with the choice of ascending but while you may have accepted him as who he is, he still struggles with it from time to time. Doubts continue to claw at his thoughts, no matter how many times you drive them away, but if you will continue fighting against them for him, he will not give up.

Your heart flutters when you realise he’s drifting off into a trance. He subconsciously curls tighter into your side, fingers tightly grasping whatever they can reach.

“Rest well, my star.” You murmur, lips ghosting his forehead. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off as well, holding your world in your arms.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

930 notes · View notes

heesimp · 3 months ago

Note

fic/drabble request 🤲🏻 bc ive been thinking abt this (https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSjSGw7Rg/) jake 😣 wanna tie him up and tease him until he cant anymore and js fucks me Hard

hot hot

Jake tries his best not to push against the rope you’ve got around his wrists that tie his hands together behind his back on the chair below him. The material is a bit loose around him despite your best efforts but he loves you and will do anything you ask of him. It’s not like he could really break free anyway.

This is the first time you’ve seen Jake like this too. Usually he’s taking command or praising you through your orgasms in ways that makes you feel like you might as well be a princess, but something about watching Jake become constricted by your hand is incredibly arousing and you feel yourself gush the more you look at him sitting before you.

His cock is so hard and so wet from the labor of love your mouth gave him, kissing his warm dick until he’s flexing his thighs in pure need and want. Your mouth waters at the memory of pushing him towards the brink of his orgasm until pulling it away from him completely like he’s done with you a few times. It’s all so erotic and so hot.

You swing your leg over Jake’s lap and hover above his cock, allowing it to slide against your wet folds every now and then. He tries to buck his hips upward to breach your hole but you’re much faster, pulling your body up and away from him.

“You look so good underneath me,” you whisper to his ear before kissing his neck. Jake is warm to the touch and hearing him try to regain a steady breath turns you on even more. The sight of his hands bound behind the chair is enough to make your eyes roll back.

“Wish you’d just let me fuck you,” he mutters beneath his breath. His cock jumps when you brush over the shell of his ear before kissing just underneath it. “I liked seeing you tied up.”

“Yeah, but you always get your fun.” Jake watches you pout as you lean back to get a good look at him.

“Don’t you like it when I fuck you senseless? Don’t you want that from me, baby? Hm?”

You clench at his words but ignore him nonetheless. “Later. I wanna have fun with you.”

Jake’s wet cock provides the kind of stimulation you need. He moans when you put your wet pussy right on top of him and tries to put his arms around you but is bound by the rope, moaning in frustration when your folds envelop his cock. You situate yourself in this position and roll your hips back and forth, pushing your tits up against his hard and toned chest while your hands grip his shoulders for stability.

The sound of filthy. Wet echoes permeate throughout the room along with wanton moans and subtle whimpers coming from your throat. Jake’s hair is pushed back from the sweat building off of the hour he’s been in this chair and his balls are so hard that he feels like he could come like this.

His tip repeatedly pushes against your clit and you try so desperately not to lose your composure. Your hips rock back and forth and his dick keeps breaching your tight hold, which tempts you into sinking right down onto him, but you hold back.

Instead, you lift your lap off of him and ignore Jake’s whining to grip him by the base of his cock and rub his cock head over your swollen lips. He looks up at you with wide eyes and open-mouthed moans the faster you rub his tip against you and your own resolve is crumbling. Your body feels like electricity is running to your toes and jolting right back into your warm hole. He feels so good like this. The precum splashing against your folds tempts you in ways you never knew imaginable.

But that’s the thing. You keep rubbing and rubbing but don’t offer him any real resolution. The rest of his cock remains untouched and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on like this. Seems like you have the same idea.

“Jake.” His names comes out like a breathless whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me,” you concede, pushing only his tip inside of you.

“Gotta untie me, baby.”

And you do in a hastily fashion until Jake’s wrists are no longer bound. He flexes his fingers before hoisting you up by the waist to wrap your legs around him as he plunges his thick, wet cock into the place you need him the most.

It’s loud and it’s messy with his precum dripping everywhere while he pushes your back against the edge of the bed, watching the way your breasts bounce underneath him. Jake pushes and pushes against you until you feel his swollen balls clap right up to your ass, and the feeling makes you come immediately.

Jake doesn’t stop his ministrations and grunts louder when he sees your come covering the entirety of his cock. It spurs him to fuck you even faster to the point where your hands grip anything you can find—his arms and the blankets below you—because he rocks your body in such a way that makes you wonder just how horny he really is.

He comes deep inside of you but he doesn’t stop either. Jake pushes his hot load deeper into your pussy the louder you moan and swears he could go another round or two.

#enhypen smut #jake smut #enha smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #jake #hard thought

228 notes · View notes

acapelladitty · 10 months ago

Note

ok but,,,, Mr "the" ghoul subbing for his so/ for the first time and he's all unsure and tryna be cocky but he's actually a big softie who loves being taken care of and told what to do 💥

light me up and breathe in

Pairing: Cooper Howard/F!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Summary - After some convincing, Cooper agrees to let you give him a chest massage.

(tw: heavy petting, teasing, cockwarming, threats of violence, cannibalism mention, dirty talk)

Convincing Cooper to let you take care of him was a task better suited for the great thinkers of the world, people who had the patience and the fortitude to deal with his stubborn bullshit as he dodged your every attempt. However, time was always on your side and you weren't convinced if it was the appeal of a massage or the promise that you would stop asking if he relented, but he had eventually given in.

His upper clothing had been shed quickly enough, exposing his bare torso to your greedy eyes. A shapely sight, his body wasn't overly muscular, but clearly held a core strength as it formed a solid expanse - the skin scarred and textured across every visible inch.

Reclined on his chair, his eyes were wary but heated as he watched you clamber onto his lap with a childish eagerness.

"That desperate, huh?"

"Shut up."

Rolling your hands along his chest, the rough texture of his skin left a pleasant tingle in your fingers as you follow the natural contours of his body. Patchy and pitted beyond reason, you map out the ridges with a faint smile and your fascination with his skin didn't go unnoticed.

"You staring at me like that makes me wonder if you're thinking 'bout taking a bite?" Cooper's low voice, dulled by his forced nonchalance, filled the air between you and you refuse to look up and meet his eye as you answer.

"Maybe." You tease, trailing a finger along the column of his neck. "It's about time you had something to worry about so maybe I'll cannibalise some part of you to shut you up for a while."

"If you're gonna wrap those pretty lips around a part of me then I've got some ideas, darlin'."

Gaze flitting across his body as you ignore his suggestion, you settle on his nipples and admire the deep red colour which stands free of his chest. You can imagine him in a better time, picture how dense the chest hair which would have coated him would feel below your fingers. How fun it would be to run your digits across the thick mat and pull at it teasingly, forcing him to shift up and meet your lips with a single tug.

But no.

Hairless.

It really was a cruel world.

Still, there was more than one way to get a reaction and you clamp your thumbs and forefingers around his nipples as you pinch the nubs with malicious intent.

"Maybe I'll focus on these. They're very sensitive."

A strangled gasp escapes him but he covers it quickly by curving his thick hands around the swell of your ass.

"True that, sweetie, but if you tear 'em off I'll be taking yours to replace them. With my teeth, mind."

Pulling at the nubs even more roughly, the discomfort forces a warning rumble from his throat as he arches his back against the chair.

"Not how this works, Coop. You have to say please if you want me to stop."

Scowling, he relents regardless, having alresdy agreed to the terms of the game. "Please."

"That's better, handsome."

Hands feeling dry, you get a move on with your agreement and add a healthy dollop of the unscented lotion which you had stumbled on in an abandoned pharmacy. Its discovery had prompted this little game and you can't hold back your grin as you spread it across his skin - sinking into the intimate contact with a soft sigh.

Tense as hell, Cooper is every inch a coiled serpent ready to strike out. He's subtle with it though; matching your wry comments with his own and visibly attempting to force himself to relax into the earnest touch. For a creature who was wrapped around you like a glove when you fucked, this type of intimate engagement appeared to give him more anxiety than staring death down the barrel of a gun.

"Relax." You soothe, hands running across his collarbone to wrap around his shoulders.

"I am relaxed." He lied.

"Liar." You call him out with a teasing smile. "But if a little massage is so scary for the big, bad bounty hunter then let me make you a bit more comfortable."

Dropping your slickened hand to his groin, you cup his hardened cock through the fabric, wasting no time in opening his fly and releasing him; allowing the girthy length to jut free in the cool air.

"Wow, Mr. Howard," you tease, gripping your hand around his length and stroking along it with a firm grip, "this looks painful. What are we going to do about it?"

"Cruel to play with a man's bone and not give him somewhere to bury it." Cooper rumbled, his hips bucking into your hand as you tighten your fingers around the base of a cock, denying him any further stimulation until he settles. "Might drive a man to do something dangerous, sweetie."

"Oh well in that case." Raising yourself off his lap by planting your feet on the floor, you slip further towards his body and line up his blunted cockhead with your hole - arousal making your lips feels swollen and sensitive as you run his cock along your slickened folds. "Would be a shame to waste it then."

Sinking down on his cock, you drop your head to his neck to hide the discomforting gasp as the familiar stretch of him makes your walls burn with the sudden intrusion. The texture of his cock adds an intensity that makes your legs tremble as it rubs along those sweet spots which make stars fly behind your eyes.

You adjust your hips until you're able to sit flush against his groin, the angle a little awkward but fucking delicious as every slight jostle sparks fresh pleasure. His eyes pin you with a greater ferocity than his cock as his head tilts up to keep line with your gaze.

"Tight as a drum." Cooper growls, the feel of you wrapped around him making his hips move of their own accord as he fucks himself deeper; each small rut leaving your cunt wanting more.

But no.

That wasn't the game.

Slapping a hand to his exposed chest, the skin there still moist from the lotion - you cupped your other hand around the back of his neck and scowl at him with a playful anger.

"Hey! Did I tell you to fuck me?"

Stilling his hips, Cooper curled his lips into a smirk.

"That you did not, darlin'."

"Then stop moving and let me have my fun. You focus on keeping that big ol' gun of yours holstered somewhere I know it likes, and I'll focus on what I want to do."

"You drive a hard bargain, missy." He replies, amusement playing across his harsh features. "But a deal's a deal and, hell, I'm sure there's gonna be a reward of some kind for such agreeable behaviours."

"Keep dreaming, handsome. I'm letting you warm your cock in me. Isn't that enough?"

"From you?" Flashing his teeth with an almost feral grin, Cooper's arm snapped around your waist to pull you flush to his chest as his rough lips brushed your ear. "Never."

Squeezing your cunt around him, the action netting you a muted groan, you push him away and roll your hips as your hands return to his chest.

"Nice try, buddy. But no amount of, admittedly, great cock is going to stop me from rubbing every inch of you."

"Stubborn bitch."

Cooper mutters the words without heat, his hands returning to their original position around your ass as you edge yourself on his cock; determined to explore every inch of him before allowing him to get his rocks off.

"Yours."

#sooo hot want to touch the hiney awoooooooo #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fic #ghoul smut #ghoul fic #walton goggins

657 notes · View notes

j-jinxee · 9 months ago

Note

Could I request a fic with nijiro or chishiya where reader uses a sex toy or toys on him to make him beg. I love the idea of them being whiny.

[ ⟡ ] — MAKE ME LOSE,,

NSFW under the cut! ⊹ Chishiya x Reader

[warnings - nsfw, sex toys, begging, public(?), swearing]

A/N - tysm for the request!! hehe I loveee this :3 don't ask me how they got access to sex toys and stuff in the borderland since there's no like, electronic devices kind of yk? Just go w it hehe —★

─────

Chishiya's poker face was one to admire. He had incredible control over his emotions showing, not cracking for anyone or anything. It interested you, his whole demeanour was something no one else at the beach even came close to. The beach influenced everyone to be incredibly care free, dropping their guards and just having a good time, but of course, not Chishiya. Chishiya still kept that same unamused yet intrigued look on his face, he was so peculiar.

Fast forward a few games, you and Chishiya got pretty close. He found you weren't annoying like most at the beach, the way you spoke didn't irritate him at all, plus it was fun having someone around who was actually a challenge. The games got pretty boring after a while, sure you'd get hurt sometimes, but they eventually all got so easy. So you and Chishiya would start placing bets just to spice it up a bit, betting who could get a higher score, who got hurt the least, who predicted which players would die, you know? It was your guys' way of attempting to enjoy the games.

However this type of bet came as a surprise.

"You're so full of it! You would not be able to keep it together!" You exclaimed to Chishiya.

"Trust me I could, it wouldn't be that hard."

"Alright then, let's bet on it." You said with a smile.

His face slightly dropped, you finally got to him. You know he wouldn't be able to keep it together, let alone survive a full game. He'd be too sensitive to focus, because you'd be watching from afar, in full control of a pretty little cock ring he's wearing, vibrations running through his core as he tries not to falter.

Fuck the idea was so hot, and it'd soon be a reality thanks to your betting games. You knew from a friend of a friend that the beach wasn't too far from an adult store, how convenient. Before the next game, you'd taken a little trekk to the store, sure it was creepy and abandoned like everything else in the city, but it still looked relatively clean. Making your "purchase" of the toy, you began your way back to the beach, Chishiya's next game was tonight, so he was just praying it wouldn't be anything in the spades category.

Much to his luck — it was a diamonds game. Fuck, he might actually win.

You two had discussed the "rules" earlier, you'd be in an undisclosed location somewhere near the game arena. You'd also have an ear piece in so you could hear all his pretty little noises, but he'd have to focus completely on the game, no communication was allowed on his end.

He'd win if his poker face stayed strong, basically if no one caught on or asked him about it. He also wasn't allowed to cum, poor baby. However, if you won — he'd have to keep it on all night, all the way back to the beach, in his own bed, everything.

It was some sort of numbers game (think like the king of diamonds except not that serious). There was a screen with numbers 0-100, and a math formula that went along with it. You honestly didn't pay much attention, you weren't playing and were just here to make sure Chishiya doesn't cheat. It was more than likely Chishiya knew where you were, he always knew somehow, and right now you may or may not have been pirched on top of the roof, looking in through the high windows. It was night, and you were in full black, no one else would've seen you.

You decided not to touch the remote at all during the first two rounds, hopefully making him feel the suspense. You doubt it would have any real effect on him, but it's fun to imagine.

"Your move Chishiya, what'll it be?" Another player asked.

His lips parted to begin speaking. vrrr vrrr

You smirked as you saw him hesitate, his mouth closing for a split second before going back to his sentence. You had it on the lowest setting, wouldn't want to ruin the fun immediately.

Your mind started to wander as the game went on, thinking back to all the other pretty toys you saw in the shop. Invasive thoughts clouded your mind, beginning to think about using all the other toys on Chishiya — binding his wrists to the headboard with those hand cuffs, watching hot wax run down his bare chest, fuck. You definitely had to go back.

Two players had already had their heads blown off, three remaining including Chishiya. Your thumb dragged along the buttons of the remote, surprising you with the fact it even worked from this distance. Shiya was beginning to get restless, adjusting his posture, looking around randomly, rubbing his eyes, just trying to feel anything else to take his mind off the pleasure, threatening to spill at any second.

"mm-mmh! shit-" he quietly panted, completely unable to focus. The other players shot him suspicious glances, wondering what was happening to him.

"You alright there?" Another player asked, his expression showing signs of disgust, has he caught on?

Chishiya's little whines did sound very suggestive, even if you were completely oblivious to the situation he was in.

"Hm? Oh- yeah, yeah I'm good" Liar.

As the game continued, Chishiya's moves were less and less calculated. If he didn't get it together, he could actually make a fatal mistake. You decided to give him a break, it was the second last round, and you slowly turned it all the day down to the lowest setting. You could see sweat start to form on his forehead, quickly being wiped away with his sleeve as he proceeded with his move.

Another player was executed, entering the last round. The inconsistent vibrations were starting to make him feel sick, he would've came twice by now if it wasn't for your bet. As he looked back at the screen, his hand went up to select "01" vrrr vrrrrrr

Spiking it up to the highest setting, what else did he expect for the last round? His hand clenched into a fist, his boxers completely soaked in pre, making all the small adjustments feel even better. He resumed selecting the last number, but for some reason changed his answer.

'Player Chishiya selected 00'

He glanced to the only remaining player, giving them a little wave. His expression was horrified, realising he had just lost, and this psycho was- waving him goodbye? Not a second passed before more blood was splattered on the walls, Chishiya had won. Fuck.

You made your way carefully down from the roof, not looking forward to seeing his smug 'I won' face again. You really thought this would break him, sure the other players were suspicious, but they didn't outright ask him about it, you'd lost. However, you were met with something you certainly didn't expect.

Chishiya was barely standing, leaning against the entrance of the game hall with his head angled upwards, bulge very prominent in his pants. Once he heard you approaching, he needed this to end.

"ff-fuck is it over? Please be ove- ah! Does it count? I win right? right?" Holy shit, he was so lost in it. Of course it was over, what was he talking about? He was clearly deluded from all the adrenaline, mixed with pleasure he want allowed to experience, you never thought you'd see him like this.

You decided to play, "I don't know. We could keep going, see if you could last the night, see if anyone at the beach notices."

"Fuckkk- fuck please! No one noticed I- ahhh! I didn't even cum" you still had the ring on full power, getting him closer and closer while he was trying to convince what'd already come true.

"Didn't you? Awh what a good boy. I guess I could let you cum, you've done well enough."

"r-really? Ahh! are you sure? Please end it."

You held his face so gently, attempting to make eye contact as he struggled to keep his open. Calming him with your touch, your other hand slowly went up to stroke him through the wet fabric. "aAH- mmh!"

"I'm sure, you've won. Pretty boy can cum now."

He whined out louder than ever as the most intense orgasm of his life washed over him. Thick ropes of his hot white cum spurted out into his boxers, all his muscles tensing from the pleasure. Nearly collapsing from the pure ecstasy, you turned the small device off and sat down next to him. He was silent for a few minutes before coming back down to earth, his eyes finally opened.

"Fuck, I barely remember the game, or what I was saying. I won again though." He smirked as he looked over at you, there's that smug little cat.

"Yeah, didn't think you had it in you to be honest. So, what's my punishment? Gonna make me eat natto again?" You referred back to the last bet you lost, where he made you eat your least favourite food ever.

The smirk plastered on his face got even wider before he spoke, "no. I thought this time, I'd use your reward against you."

What does he mea- oh.

Before you knew it, you were back at the beach, on Chishiya's bed, wearing a pretty little vibrator that he had control over. Maybe we shouldn't have made that bet.

601 notes · View notes