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Fate Yields For No One
Chapter Six
Poly Lost Boys x Maxâs Daughter Reader
Hey yâall! Hope you love this next installment in my series! The plot is thickening and I canât wait for yâall to see what I have planned for next monthâs chapterđ
Comment letting me know if youâd like to be added to the Taglist for this series, or to be added to my main TLB Taglist
FYFNO Masterlist
California 1986
Maria was the one you wanted. You chose her, and youâd do what you had to to keep her.Â
Whatever it took.
The sound of her laugh was the sweetest music that had ever graced your ancient ears. You threaded your fingers through hers, dissolving into a fit of giggles as she wiped ice cream from her nose.Â
âI would have licked it off!â you protested with a playful pout.Â
She shrugged and brushed the icecream against her nose till it was covered once more, âgo ahead.â she challenged.
You raised an eyebrow and leaned in, licking the icecream off her button nose.Â
Maria gagged playfully, rubbing at her nose. âYou are SO gross! I didnât think youâd actually do it!âÂ
You doubled over with laughter, âI had to after that! You totally dared me to!â You pouted once more, âbesides, is that any way to treat your girlfriend? Do I disgust you?â You threw your hand over your forehead in a dramatic display of faux offense.Â
Maria mock gasped, âah of course not darling,â her hands touched her nose with playful reverence, âI shall never wash this nose again.âÂ
âEw,â your nose scrunched.Â
She shoved you playfully, âyouâre terrible,â she beamed.Â
âYou love it,â you whispered, your forehead resting on hers.Â
âI do,â she whispered back, before moving to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.
Davidâs eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of you and Maria, too wrapped up in each other to notice he was watching.
He blew out a harsh cloud of smoke, a terrifying smile gracing his face.
âWhat are we gonna do aboutâŠthat,â he gestured with his cigarette, before flicking off the butt and grinding it into the dirt.
âNothing,â Dwayne said firmly, âweâll only drive her away if we meddle.â
David scoffed.
âMaybe heâs right,â Marko chimed in, âmaybe scheming isnât the answer? How long can she ignore the mate pull anyway, itâs only a matter of time.â
David frowned, âso what? We sit back and watch while our mate parades around the boardwalk with someone else? This is our territory Marko, itâs downright disrespectful what sheâs doing.â
Dwayne sighed.
âYouâve been awfully quiet blondie,â David clapped Paul on the back as he hung to the dock railing, staring off at the waves as they crashed over the shore.
âWhatâs there to say?â
Markoâs face softened and he moved to Paulâs side, hooking his arm through Paulâs.
âWhat do you mean âwhatâs there to say?ââ David frowned.
Paul shrugged.
âYouâre giving up? Just like that?â David grit, âyou hound us for weeks about this girl and what? Youâre just done with her? Sheâs ours Paul.â
âI canâtâŠâ he took a deep breath, âI canât stand to see her look at me like she does.â
David fell silent, his arms crossed.
âItâs like that pull between usâŠitâs like it hurts her,â
âThatâs not possible,â David muttered.
âThatâs not what I meant,â Paulâs gaze met his. âI donât wanna hurt her anymore.â
Markoâs hands traced patterns on Paulâs back as he returned to stare out at the waves.
David stomped out his cigarette. âLook, letâs just follow âer a bit longer and see what we see.â
âIâm done tailing her,â Dwayne said, âwe canât blackmail someone into loving us.â
âWho said thatâs what weâre doing?â David moved to stand toe to toe with Dwayne, âjust think of it as gathering info.â
Paul shook his head, huffing a bit, âIâm out,â
âMe too,â Marko added, not meeting Davidâs eyes.
The boys began to peel off.
âDo what you want David,â Dwayne placed a hand on the bleach blond vampireâs shoulder, âbut look at her.â He nodded towards you, and David followed his gaze.
You were smiling brightly, unlike anytime theyâd ever seen you. Your fingers intertwined with Mariaâs, her lips pressed against your ear, murmuring something that made your smile grow.
âWould you really take that away from her?â
Davidâs jaw clenched, âwe could make her ten times as happy.â
Dwayne shook his head as he walked off towards his bike. Something told him this wasnât going to end well.
David rolled his eyes as he lit up behind a column while you, finally, kissed Maria good night.
Following the two of you had proved entirely fruitless. Your frequent public displays of affection had only served to increase his ire towards the whole situation.
Heâd hate to go home empty handed and face the boysâ smug faces. He hoped that once you were alone, heâd be able to findâŠsomething. At this point, he wasnât even sure what he was looking for.
As Maria drove away, you began to stroll off.
David threw his bike a quick longing look, promising to return for it later, before following the path to your home.
As you walked the trail, David was close behind concealing himself within the trees. He was grateful you were always so lost in your own thoughts, or he was sure your heightened senses would have tipped you off to his presence by now. He smirked, being an apex predator had made youâŠcareless.
The closer you got to your destination, the more familiar the woods seemed to become to David. He knew this path, heâd walked it countless times before.
But you couldnât beâŠcould you?
But when you strode up to that Maxâs front door, his tall form waiting for you in the doorway, tapping his foot impatiently, David couldnât believe his luck.
Max was your sire. He must be. Traditional, family man, âmates are the greatest gifts to vampire kind,â Max.
David chuckled to himself, the beginnings of a plan forming. You had no idea what you were in for.
As the days passed, you and Maria were closer than ever. It seemed like you spent every one of her waking night hours wrapped in her arms. (Even some of the hours you were meant to be working, but what Max didnât know certainly wouldnât hurt him.)
It seemed like Davidâs gang of misfit vampires had gotten the hint too. You hadnât seen any trace of the bikers since youâd caught a glimpse of them creeping on your date a few days ago.
Good. They should leave you be.
But when you were with Maria, happy as you were, you couldnât help the consuming feeling that something wasnât quite right.
You hated it.
It bubbled up in your chest, like you were going to vomit, but nothing would ever come out. It was like pressure, keeping you on edge when you should be completely at ease. âYouâre missing something,â it seemed to whisper, âyouâre always going to feel this way.â
Again and again, youâd shake it off.
You preferred to lose yourself in the taste of Mariaâs lips, the softness of her cheeks, the warmth of her smile.
But that feeling, it always found itâs way back.
You tried to suppress your doubts as you trekked home.
When you arrived at Maxâs front door, he wasnât waiting to greet you.
You frowned, but shrugged it off. Surely heâd just tired of your attitude towards him. Youâd figured heâd take the hint sooner or later anyway.
But when you opened the door, you were met with the sight of Max sitting at his dining room table and sipping from a wine glass, full of a liquid you knew was not wine.
He gestured to the empty seat across from him, a matching glass placed in front of the chair. âSit,â he commanded casually.
Your eyes narrowed, but you obeyed.
He took a long drink from his glass, âyou have been spending a lot of time with that Maria girl.â
Your fists clenched, but you willed yourself not to react too strongly. âSheâs my coworker, what about it?â
Max set his glass down. âDo you think Iâm a fool?â
Your breath hitched. âWhatâs wrong with me dating?â You asked, âI thought youâd be happy to see me putting down roots.â
âNothing wrong with dating,â he shrugged, ânothing wrong with dating humans, nothing wrong with dating girlsâŠâ
âThen what are we doing here?â your nails dug into your palms as you waited for his reply.
âBecause there is something wrong with dating a silly human girl, when you have been blessed with mates.â
You felt like all the air had been knocked from your lungs.
âH-how did you-â
âYou thought you could hide this? Please,â Max scoffed, âI have eyes everywhere.â
You were too stunned to speak.
âDo you know what I would do to have a mate?â He hissed, âand look at you, wasting what fate has decided to give you. You really are every bit the ungrateful child I thought you were.â
âSo what?â Your anger threatened to spill over, âyouâre going to order me not to see her? Youâre going to thrall me?â
âNot quite,â Max clasped his hands together, âlet me put it this way. If you refuse to break off this little dalliance with Maria, I will kill her.â
âWhat,â you whispered in shock.
âIâm a vampire,â he stated plainly, âI eat humans remember? As do you?â He gestured at the glass in front of you.
âI have never felt the need to apologize for what I am, and I have never been afraid to use my gifts to get what I want, just as you have.â Max reminded you.
Your mind flashed through every disgustingly wealthy man you had âdated,â drained, and discarded for all those years in Manhattan.
âThatâs- itâs- that was different.â
Max hummed, âyou may see it that way, but regardless, whatever you had with Maria, itâs over. If you want her to live that is. Doesnât she have that big family to take care of?â
You pushed away from the table, storming towards the stairs. Before you started to ascend them so you could lock yourself in your room, you turned to face him.
âYouâre a monster.â
Max nodded, âmaybe, but my dear, so are you.â
You tore your gaze away from his, racing up the stairs and slamming your door.
âIâm only doing whatâs best for you!â He called after you.
You laughed bitterly and collapsed onto your bed. For the first time in a long time, you wept.
FYFNO Taglistâ€ïž:
(Idk why it doesnât let me tag some people but I did my best guysđ)
@6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @sad-ghost-of-garbage @crustyboypix @gothamslostboy @anna1306 @bloodywickedvamp @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @ria-coolgirl @chiefdirector @arbesa-mind @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @its-freaking-bats @f4iryfxies @ghostedghostie @jezabella8 @solobagginses @vampirefilmlover @vxarak @lostboys1987girl @mickkmaiden333 @softchonk @katerinaval @walmart-icarus @rynsfandomsfun @royaltysuite @hypocriticaltypwriter @charlottieellis @mad-is-sad @justaspeachy @natalie668 @blenna3967 @paladinshenanigan-blog @shadowrose13-blog1 @humanzeww @mynameismothra @kuroturo @ilikechocolatemilkh @whaturcapableof @twisteduniverse5 @mack-attack420 @smut-religiously777 @people-are-strange-87 @welcome-to-the-hole @pookiesnatcher @kristel1990 @mihawksdemoness @buzzybee-26 @sarcastic-sourwolf @jamie-poopoo @fraudfrog
#the lost boys#the lost boys fic#paul lost boys#tlb#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#dwayne lost boys#marko lost boys#David lost boys#poly lost boys#poly lost boys x fem reader#max lost boys#Maria lost boys#lost boys fic#vampires#vampire mates#vampire reader#fem vampire reader#angst#lost boys angst#fated mates#Paul tlb#Dwayne tlb#Marko tlb#David tlb#fem reader#fem reader fic#fem vampire reader fic#vampire fic#multi chapter fic
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âguilty pleasureâ | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. Heâs convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesnât seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - theyâre basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kidâ.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that iâm LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love yâall.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didnât want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, iâve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i donât know when iâll be posting it, but iâm sure it wonât take me that long.
*** iâm also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i donât know if anyoneâs going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes donât hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic đ the sweetest human ever
The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. Itâs what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. Youâre pretty sure that holding some strangerâs hair while they empty their insides wasnât on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesnât grow on trees, and university isnât going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.Â
Perhaps this isnât the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. Youâd often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients youâd ever encountered. In the past, heâd even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, youâd be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: âYouâll be much better than me, doll. Iâm a mess, canât you see it? You donât wanna be like me,â his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. âI should be at my daughterâs birthday right now, but I didnât get an invitation this year. Believe me, you donât want to end up like this old man.âÂ
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesnât receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. Youâre certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, youâd be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see whoâs arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, youâre compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the strangerâs features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.Â
You:
cutie patootie alert
thereâs this really handsome guy at the bar
i donât think iâve ever seen him before
i think iâm in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? itâs hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6â2 if iâm not wrongÂ
i didnât stare at him for too long
otherwise that wouldâve been very weird
and no heâs not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentlemanâs lack of hairÂ
Allison:
so youâre dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allisonÂ
Allison:Â
itâs okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure itâs nobodyâs father
wait itâs not mine right?
You:
nah your dadâs way hotter donât you worry about it
Allison:
bitchÂ
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
âDo I have somethinâ on my face?â you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit itâs pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phoneâs flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. âEnough of that, yâhear me?â
Enter you now. âOkay, gentlemen, Iâm sorry. Iâm gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?â you mumble as you gently push them aside. âThank you, thank you. Yâall can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.â
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.Â
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. âDoll, itâs the fucking Wolverine. Donât ask him for a picture, though. He doesnât seem to be in the mood for that.â
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
âGuys, what youâre doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought Iâd taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldnât have it.â
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. âShe does have a point.âÂ
âThank you, peanut. Youâre still my favorite,â you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. âYou can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?â they all scoff, barking their disagreement. âOh, you donât like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,â you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. âChop chop. All this alcohol wonât be drinking itself.â
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
âThank you,â he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.Â
âNo need to. Itâs what Iâm here for,â you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. âCan I get you anything to drink? Itâs also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.â
(No. Itâs not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesnât seem too eager to hear you talk. âNot hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.â
âYou sure?â
âYeah, kid. Very sure.â Well, now he does look annoyed.
âGreat. Iâll be back in a minute,â you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you donât even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. âI see youâre thirsty.â
âCould you leave the bottle here?â those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although youâd be happy to oblige, rules are rules.Â
âActually, I canât. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,â your proposal doesnât appear to have the desired effect on him. âI wonât talk to you if thatâs what you want.â
âIâll take your word for it,â he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.Â
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
âWhat a weirdo. Didnât you see it on TV? Heâs not even from this universe,â Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. âLet me tell yâall something: he shouldnât even be here. Heâs fucking dead on this earth.â
Yeah⊠that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone wouldâve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you wouldâve laughed in their face.
As if that werenât already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that thereâs a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you canât seem to be scared of him. Thereâs something magnetic about his personality and that donât-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
âI can hear your thoughts,â a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
âI thought you didnât want me to talk,â you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. âI can assure you your liver hates you.â
âAlcohol wonât kill me, so donât be afraid. Keep âem coming.â
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. âYou canât smoke in here.â
âNo special treatment?â he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. Heâs so⊠dreamy. He has to know it.
âI saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.â
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. âYou saved my what?â
âYour goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.â
âBlame the idiots you have for clients,â he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. âI was just mindinâ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.â
âLook, Wolvie. Iââ
âWolvie?â giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. âThatâs the worst nickname Iâve heard in a long time,â he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. âItâs Logan.â
âWow. Your name is very boybandish.â
You succeed in making him laugh once again. Itâs the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles youâve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that heâs a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesnât leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
âSo this is where youâve been hiding, you preening slut. Canât even bother to answer my calls now?â
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesnât dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. âWade, what the hell are you doinâ here?â
âIt hasnât been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I donât even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,â the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. âNo offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The nameâs Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.â
âYou dumb fuck. Are you flirtinâ with her?â
âNo shit, smartass. Youâre the future of this country.â
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. âWell, arenât you two a beautiful couple?â
âYou should see our little munchkin. Heïżœïżœs got my eyes and Loganâs hair. His first word was gubernatorial.â
âWould you like to have a drink while youâre here?â
âA beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. Youâre the cutest,â Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Loganâs direction, bumping his shoulder. âSheâs the cutest. Are you two together?â
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. âHow did you find me?â
âIt's the power of love, baby. I had Itâs All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldnât stop thinking about you.â
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Loganâs face. âI didnât know patience was your strongest suit.â
âMe neither.â
âEnough of that! I canât stand not being included in a conversation,â Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. âThere you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?â
You canât help but snort. âIâm 25.â
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. âNow that I think about it, you could totally be Loganâs caretaker. Heâs been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you⊠know anything about adult diapers?â
But then Loganâs face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wadeâs arm. âThatâs it. Weâre leavinâ,â his eyes lock on you for a moment. âHow much do I owe you?â
âDonât worry about it. Itâs on the house.â
The things youâre willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you arenât.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. âKiddo, are youââ
âCompletely sure,â you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. âJust donât tell my boss.â
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. âI usually donât mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.â
âIâm gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.â
âOh, come on! I was just making small talk,â the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. âIt was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. Iâm free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mineâs way more agile and young!â
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
âPatrickâs normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,â you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. âHe can usually handle himself, but at some point, heâll try to call his ex-wife, and thatâs when you know you need to stop serving him.â
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. âThis is⊠definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.â
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. âYouâll get used to it, believe me. Iâll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.â
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now sheâs your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.Â
Touching your arm softly, Gwenâs face lights up. âAnother man came in. Is he a regular? I donât think you told me about him.â
Fuck, itâs him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
âLeave this one to me,â you tell her as your feet take you to where Loganâs sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. âLong time no see.â
âHey, kid,â he grins. âWhatâs up?â
âNothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so thatâs a good thing,â you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. âWhiskey?â
âYou know me so well,â a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. âThough this time, I wonât be leavinâ without payinâ.â
âWeâll see about that,â you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. âIs that your boyfriend?â
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. âGod, no. Heâs not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.â
âItâs funny,â she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you donât. âHe hasnât stopped looking at you since he arrived.â
âItâs probably because of this,â you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as youâre about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. Sheâs wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if sheâs a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Loganâs expression is hard to read, he doesnât even flinch.
âYou know what? Hereâs his drinkâ You take care of it. Iâll stay here,â you donât give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.Â
âDoll, are you okay?â Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. âThere you go.â
âThank you, Adam. Iâm fine, never been better. Why you ask?
âYou sure?â
âAffirmative.â
âYou mixed up our drinks,â he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. âThis never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and Iâve got his martini.â
âFuck! Iâm so sorry. I justâ I donât know whatâs wrong with me,â you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. âI feel stupid.â
âOh, please. Donât say that. Youâre far from being stupid,â he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. âIf you ask me, I think youâve got your mind on someone else,â he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: âRemember: I know when youâre lying. You didnât charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,â taking a tentative sip of the martini he didnât even ordered, Adam shrugs. âIâm a great observer. Thatâs all.â
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
âAs I said, your mindâs somewhere else,â Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. âGo get your man. Iâll survive.â
âNot my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.â
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: âHi.â
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
âHey, claws,â you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. âDo you need anything?â
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. âI also wanted to talk to you.â
âI thought you were busy over there,â you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. âDid you get her number?â
âWhat? No.â
âWhy not? Sheâs cute.â
Yeah, maybe you donât sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. âIâm not interested.â
âAnd what is it that interests you, champ?â your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. âWade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartmentâ well, our apartment. I live with him now. Itâs complicated,â he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. âAnyway, he asked me to tell you that youâre invited. I know we donât know each other that much, but⊠he said you seem like someone worth havinâ around,â he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. âI think the same as well.â
You could die at peace.
âYouâre a lucky fucker because I donât work on Sundays,â you quip, smiling. âIâd be more than happy to attend your feast.â
âGreat. I thought you would turn down the invitation.â
âNow why would you think that?â
ââCause you barely know meâ us,â he corrects himself rapidly. âPlus, Wadeâs annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. Youâll see.â
âMarital problems?â he actually in response. âIâll take that as a âyesâ. Oh, Iâll bring the dessert.â
âYou donât have to.â
âBut I do want to,â you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
âJust want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,â Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. âThe tipâs included.â
âI donât know how things work in your universe, but youâre giving me way more money than youâre supposed to. I can't accept this.â
âOh, but you will,â his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and youâre glad he canât see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wadeâs address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. âI should get goinâ. See you tomorrow then.â
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. âLogan? You didnât answer my other question.â
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. âGood night, doll.â
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though youâve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and thereâs a knot in your stomach thatâs becoming all too familiar.
âWould you mind telling me where you got him?â Gwenâs voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
âHeâs not from around here. I think heâs Canadian.â
Youâve got this. Youâve got this. Youâve got this.
Knocking softly on Wadeâs door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. Itâs your first time trying out this recipe, so youâre expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. âWell, look what the wind blew in: if it isnât my husbandâs lover. How dare you? Weâre still going to couples therapy.â
You show him the container, and he squints at it. âTiramisu. You want it or not?â
âI hate twenty-somethings,â he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.Â
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. Thereâs a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. âDonât get too excited. Heâs still showering,â Wadeâs voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. âYeah. I noticed. Youâre already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.â
âKeep quiet!â you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. âWade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?â
âCouldnât help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.â
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. âI thought you were cominâ later.â
âMe too, but IâŠ,â you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, âI didnât know what else to do at my place.â
âItâs fine. Justâ let me put on some clothes.â
âPlease donât,â Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. âI was just being honest. Communication is key.â
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. âThat was probably the hottest thing Iâve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.â
âThin walls, buddy!â Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.Â
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. âIs that your phone?â
âYeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!â he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. âHey, Ness! WhatÂŽs up?â Wade covers the speaker before telling you: âItâs Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.â
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. âHey, kid.â
âNo, Iâm not busy at all,â Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. âIâll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,â he spreads his arms wide and whistles. âSomeoneâs getting laid tonight!â
âYou made me come all the way here⊠and now youâre leaving?â
âWhat? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,â in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. âShave yourself, will you?â
âGo fuck yourself, will you?â
âLove you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!â
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
âSo... I, uh, bought pizza,â he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. âPizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.â
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. âYeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didnât want to ruin it, yâknow?â
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. âThank you. Iâm a big fan of pizza.â
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
âLoganâŠ,â you begin, your tone gentle but probing, âCan I ask you something?â
He glances up at you, eyes widening. Thereâs something in your eyes âan understanding, maybeâ that makes him feel like you could see right through him.Â
âSure,â he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. âAsk away.â
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. âI was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.â
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadnât talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasnât sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. âYeah, it's okay. Iâll answer what I can.â
âI just... I want to understand you better.â
âWell, first and foremost, Iâm no hero. You should know that by now.â
âI beg to differ.â
âKid, Iâm the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,â Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. Youâre wondering if doing this was a good idea. âI need a drink.â
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. âI donât thinkââ
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once heâs done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. âWhat?â he asks, exhaling slowly.
âThat was completely unnecessary,â you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. âBut, back to what you said beforeâ I donât think youâre the worst Logan.â
âYou didnât know me back then, darlinâ. I fucked it up,â he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. âLike the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beastâ All of them,â his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. âWanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldnât do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.â
The pizzaâs long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.Â
Loganâs silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. âOne day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.â
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. âI can guess the rest. You donât have toââ
But he cuts you off. âNo, let me say it. I need to say it,â he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. âBy the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.â
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesnât pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. âMy suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were⊠dead. I started killing, and I couldnât stop. I didnât want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.â
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing thereâs nothing you can do to change how he feels. âYouâre not a bad person, Logan,â he shakes his head, mumbling something you canât quite catch. âI mean it. What happened back then doesnât define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and Iâll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I canât. Thatâs not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,â gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. âYouâre my hero. Iâm your biggest fanâ after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.â
He grins, letting out a laugh. âEasy there, bub.â
âShould I give you some space?â
Thatâs the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. Thereâs no turning backâ The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. âFor a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldnât stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.â
âAnd what happened?â your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. âWhat changed?â
âI met a pretty girl at a pub, thatâs what happened,â he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. âIâm gonna kiss you now.â
âDo all your kisses come with a warning?â
âGod, do you ever shut up?â
You donât have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
âSo this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?â he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.Â
âKeep talking and you wonât get a single bite of my tiramisu,â you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. âI really like kissing you.â
âThe feelingâs mutual, but now that youâve mentioned that tiramisuâŠâ
âAm I that easily replaced?â
âNo. Youâre just a pain in the ass.â
Jokes aside, youâre as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, youâve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasnât been to the bar in three days. Yes, youâre counting them. No, you havenât lost your mind. You want to see him, but thereâs something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
Itâs been a long time since youâve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys youâve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasnât no your plans. Youâd be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didnât excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two arenât even official yet. To be honest, you donât even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
âNighty night, gentlemen,â you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so itâs just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
âWhatâs up, doll? Youâve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,â Garyâs eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but youâve seen worse. âYâknow, Iâd love to take you out someday. I have a place youâd like.â
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.Â
âIâll let you know when Iâm free,â you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. âWhat are you having tonight?â
âYou always pull that shit, baby. I donât think youâre so busy that you canât accept a date.â
You hate the way heâs looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didnât know any better.
âYouâre reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.â
âOh, doll. That attitude of yours shows youâve never been with a real man like me, thatâs all,â he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. âItâs alright. I like you bratty.â
âIâll be back when you finally have something to order,â you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. âCome on, Gary. I donât want to have to kick you out.â
âItâs not that you don't like me, right? Youâve already got your mouth full.â
âCareful.â
âWhat? Donât tell me youâre not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like âem older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.â
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. âIt was never about your age, Gary. Youâre right: I do like them older. Iâm just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.â
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. âFucking bitch.â
âGet your hands off her.â
Loganâs voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that heâs just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.Â
âYou joining us? Weâre just getting started here, big boy.â
âDid you not hear me?â Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Garyâs. âThe fuck is wrong with you?â
âEasy there, cowboy. Iâm just having a chat with your girl. Sheâs one of the good ones, Iâll give you that,â arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. âYou donât like sharing? We can even take turns.â
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. âSay one more word, and Iâll fucking kill you.â
âIâll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?âÂ
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Garyâs smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Loganâs fist swings forward, connecting with Garyâs jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. âYou fucker! You broke my nose!â
âWeâre just getting started here, big boy,â Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
âStop!â you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But heâs beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Garyâs stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
âThatâs enough, Logan! Heâs barely conscious,â you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what heâs done.
âHe deserved it,â he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. âHe was hurting you.â
âIf you keep that up, youâre going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,â your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. âI wonât let you do this.â
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Loganâs heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Garyâs friends, cold fury in your eyes. âGet him out of here,â you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. âEverybody out, right now! Go home. Weâre closing earlier tonight.â
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. âBubââ
âDonât. Now is not the time.â
âI was protecting you.â
âI told you to stop, and you didnât. You just shook me off,â you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. âIâm sorry.â
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. âWhy didnât you call me?â
âI donât have a phone.â
âButâ Jesus, Logan. You couldâve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,â you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. âThought you no longer wanted me.â
âNo, bub. Iâ I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,â he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. âI just⊠donât know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and Iâm trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.â
âPushing me away also hurts,â your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. âI canât read your mind. You need to tell me whatâs going on in that ancient skull of yours.â
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. âIâm sorry, princess. I truly am.â
âYou canât just say âsorryâ with that voice and expect me toââ
Youâre cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.Â
âI thought your kisses came with a warning,â you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
âShut up and kiss me, will you?â
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. Youâre becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldnât care less. Loganâs hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
âYou said you wanted to know whatâs on my mind, right?â his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. âWell, Iâd love nothing more than to touch you right now.â
âRight here? On the counter?â
âYeah, on the fucking counter,â he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. âWill you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?â
âPlease. Iâm glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is tâtoo expensive these days.â
âDo you always talk this much?â he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
âYes. Next question,â your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. âFuck, that feels good.â
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. âYou have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,â his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. âBut itâs me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: Iâm the only one who touches you, ainât I right?â you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesnât go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. âNuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?â
âI wâwant your fingers inside me,â you donât even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isnât like them. This is just the beginning and youâre already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. âPlease, Logan. I want you so bad.â
âOh, I know, bub. Thereâs something about me I donât think you know,â he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. âThese claws I have⊠they didnât come on their own. Letâs just say my sense of smell is⊠pretty good,â Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. âAnd you⊠have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,â you feel like youâre being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. âBut youâre so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?â
âToo long, fâfuck. Too long,â youâre squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that youâre still wearing clothes. âShit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.â
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. âNot here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. Youâre only getting my fingers now,â he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. âTell me who owns this pussy.â
âL-loganââ
âTell me and Iâll make you come,â his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. âCome on. Know you want it as much as I do.â
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. âItâs you, Logan. You own my pussy. Itâs f-fucking yours.â
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.Â
âI said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck⊠I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.â
Heâs on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.Â
âIâm close,â you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. âIâm so close.â
âThatâs it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.â
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesnât let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: âOpen.â
And you do, because youâre just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way youâve cleaned them off.
âI think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,â he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. âI meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if weâre going to fuck. My backâs hurting.â
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. âWhy not go to yours?â
âWadeâs in there. I wouldnât be able to concentrate.â
You canât help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. âSo weâre going rodeo?â
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. âOnly if you can handle it.â
part 2: âGIVE ME THE FIRST TASTEâ
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#the wolverine#wolverine x men#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#x men movies#x men#the last of us fanfiction#smut#fluff#wolverpool#deadpool 3#deadpool#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan x you#james logan howlett#hugh jackman#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan wolverine
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NSFW
Wolf hybrid pack that was supposed to eat chubby bunny reader but instead take you in and use you as their little breeding toy.
They just kind of adore you, spoiling you with freshly picked fruits and vegetables, doting on their sweet little bunny as much as possible.
You want snuggles? Theyâre making a cuddle pile immediately, and youâre at the center. Youâre hungry for something sweet? Theyâre ransacking the nearest village and bringing back every sugary item they can find.
They get into a lot of fights over who gets to breed you first once mating season comes around. Youâre a bit afraid, seeing all these tall, needy wolves circling you like youâre a slab of meat.
Itâs the first time theyâre ever rough with you, pushing your soft body down and holding onto your hips as they rut into your fat pussy until youâre knotted over and over again.
Once theyâve all had a turn, theyâre back to purring and cuddling into you, giving you little mating bites and cleaning you up.
You decide itâs worth it to get fucked out of your mind every once in a while if it means youâre treated like the packâs princess. After all⊠it feels way too good being all full of cum and being bounced on one knot then anotherâŠ
Being adored by an entire pack of wolf hybrids isnât easy, but youâre a horny bunny, and you wouldnât have it any other way.
âââââââ
NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68
#cw breeding#cw dubcon#bunny hybrid!reader#bunny hybrid smut#wolf hybrid bf#wolf hybrid smut#wolf hybrid#wolf x bunny#werewolf x reader#werewolf imagine#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#fat reader#exophelia#terat0philliac#teraphilia#teratophillia#terato#monster x human#monster smut#monster fucking#afab reader
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hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?
âHotchâs sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k
âSheâs pregnant.â Emily shakes her bag of chips around. âBut itâs not his baby.âÂ
Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isnât putting up a good fight. âThatâs awful,â he says. âHe must be heartbroken.âÂ
âHeâs distraught. Now he canât decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.âÂ
âWhat channel did you say it was on?âÂ
âItâs on NightDrama. Iâll find out the number.âÂ
Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention.Â
She whips her head to follow him.Â
You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls heâs ever seen. And itâs not like youâre a model, you donât walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. Youâre pretty. And heâs never seen you in the office before.Â
They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer canât put his finger on what it is.Â
âShould we go help?â Emily asks.Â
âWho do you think sheâs for?â Spencer asks back. Heâs thinking youâre here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that thereâs more detail to be found.Â
Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief.Â
âHi,â you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe.Â
âHi there, can we help? You look lost,â Emily says.Â
She sounds more friendly than Spencer couldâve hoped to achieve. He doesnât even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he wouldâve stumbled over even the most basic hello.Â
âIâm here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,â âyou nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his officeâ âor somewhere else?âÂ
âThatâs the right one, the very first door.âÂ
âOkay,â you give a soft laugh. âThank you. This place makes me nervous.âÂ
You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotchâs office door, and give a little knock.Â
Itâs more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, âCome in.âÂ
âOh, youâre here,â Hotch says. Itâs to Spencerâs shock and Emilyâs clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. âYouâre late.â He squeezes you.Â
You let it happen. âI hate your building.âÂ
âWhat the hell?â Emily whispers.Â
âIâm so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.âÂ
Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotchâs office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesnât know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow.Â
âIf thatâs his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,â Emily whispers.Â
Spencer raises his brows. âDid you think that was romantic?âÂ
âIâve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasnât Haley, and when was the last time she was here?âÂ
Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotchâs standards, but the hug was so⊠uncareful. Heâd grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. âHow old is Hotch?â Spencer asks.Â
âYou donât think thatâs his secret kid.âÂ
âNo,â Spencer says, though he sort of does.Â
Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. âYou did?â youâre asking. âItâs so nice to be home.âÂ
âOf course I did. Itâs like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, youâve done so well, and now Iâm gonna make sure youâre happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.âÂ
âSean,â you sigh. âHe didnât even answer my grad card.âÂ
âI donât know what to say about him, I really donât.âÂ
A small pause. âWell, at least you answered.âÂ
âYou know I wouldâve come to watch you walkââ
âBut you couldnïżœïżœïżœt. Itâs fine, Aaron, I wasnât really expecting you to make it.âÂ
âIâm sorry. Really. And Iâm proud of you, after everything.â
âThank you⊠The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?â You laugh breathily. âMy friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.âÂ
Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated?Â
Hotch laughs too. âCome and sit before your lunch gets cold.âÂ
Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?
When Morgan appears, itâs with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emilyâs desk to give them the information theyâre craving anyways. âSheâs adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but theyâre close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, thatâs for sure.âÂ
âHe sounds protective,â Emily says, side-eying the office.Â
âLook, itâs not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.â Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father.Â
Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldnât have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasnât meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.
Itâs nice to hear Hotch laughing, but itâs your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. Itâs as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how youâre here, and he wonders if heâll see more of you âhow often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot.Â
âIâm sorry,â Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, âweâll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.âÂ
You reach up to give him another quick hug. âItâs fine. Itâs just nice to be in the same city again.âÂ
Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. Itâs unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. âY/N,â he says, pausing at the bullpen, âDerek Morgan youâve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.âÂ
âSpencer Reid?â you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotchâs face like heâs lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. âYouâre Dr. Spencer Reid?âÂ
He gets caught on his own breath. âUh, yes?âÂ
âThe Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?âÂ
Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. âYes.âÂ
You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. âWhen I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didnât stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just donât like me?âÂ
Thatâs a sisterâs scorn if Spencerâs ever heard it.Â
âI thought you said Rain.âÂ
âI donât think you did.â You turn back to Spencer. âI canât believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.â You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencerâs stomach totally flips. âItâs amazing to meet you in person.âÂ
Heâs a germaphobe, he is, and that doesnât just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. Youâre, like, glowing.Â
Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite.Â
Spencer abruptly lets you go. âI donât think you wouldâve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.â Â
Hotchâs eyebrows silently rise.Â
You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. âI like your friends.âÂ
He smiles. âLet me walk you down to the lobby, honey.âÂ
You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go.Â
Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. âSpencer,â Emily says. âWhat was that?âÂ
He doesnât want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesnât. âShe was nice.âÂ
Morganâs laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesnât drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes heâll see you again soon, though if heâs half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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college nerd! geto who loves reading you âbedtime storiesâ, rather it just be a silly book from your childhood or a book about physics.
college nerd! geto whose glasses you often push up for him when heâs too enthralled in his homework, wanting to help your boyfriend when heâs working oh so hard.
college nerd! geto who doesnât enjoy parties, but he likes tagging along with you sometimes, seeing you let loose gets him riled up.
college nerd! geto who likes when you stroke his hair while he blurts out notes to you, always telling him what he got right and wrong, showing him you listen and care.
college nerd! geto who canât thank you enough after you helped him pass his exam, kissing you up and down.
college nerd! geto who decides this is a good time to go down on you for the first time, shoving his fingers inside you.
college nerd! geto who canât help but push his glasses up multiple times just so he can see your pretty face as his fingers curl up into you.
college nerd! geto who sucks on your clit gently, licking a stripe along your pussy, laying his head on your thighs so he can admire your beauty.
college nerd! geto who slips it in raw for the first time, his eyes rolling back into his head in ecstasy, caressing your cheeks.
college nerd! geto who pants and moans above you, lowering his head to touch yours, whispering on about âi love you..â âyâso perfect..â âhave my kidsâŠâ
college nerd! geto who cums inside, whimpering on about âiâm sorry, iâm sorryâŠâ while he plunges his dick even deeper, grazing his hand along your thighs.
college nerd! geto who kisses your beautiful face, complimenting how well you took him.
college nerd! geto who, after aftercare, opened his physics textbook to start studying for his next test.
#college nerd! geto#myatalksđ«Ą#blkshoyo#black reader#jjk x you#anime x black!reader#jjk x reader#x black reader#anime x black reader#jjk x y/n#jjk smut#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto x black reader#geto x black y/n#jjk x black reader#jjk x poc!reader#jjk x black y/n#jjk x black!fem reader#jjk fics#jjk imagines#jjk geto#black reader smut
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The arms đȘđ»
Cosplayer: Quinn
(Ps: she is a minor, and i only post her bc of her ellie cosplay)
#lesbian#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams tlou2#ellie tlou2#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie willams#ellie x reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie fluff#ellie angst#ellie fic#ellie fanfic#ellie edit#ellie imagine#ellie icons#ellie cosplay#cosplay
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full fic here
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin Humps his sheets unknowingly when he dreams about you.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin swore off dating when working as a sorcerer until you came into his life.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin asks you out politely, despite the fear of being incompetent due to his lack of not only sexual relationships but emotional ones too.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would offer to make you dinner at his place, and drink wine on his couch by the fire place.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is absolutely mortified when he cums in his pants after you kissed him for the first time.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin is comforted by the way you treat him the exact same after he explains his lack of physical and emotional experience.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin finds himself pinning you to the couch and kissing you harder, keeping you down with his hips and making sure your legs are wrapped around him as he does so.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin doesnât even care that his already stained pants seem to be getting worse as he rubs into you because you are letting out the sweetest moans for him.
Nanami the 35 Year old Virgin would beg you breathlessly between wet hot kisses and needily to teach him.
Teach him how to be your perfect lover in more ways than one.
#I lowkey wanna turn this into a ficâŠ#BUT WTV#black reader#jjk smut#jjk#cat writes â
#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami jjk#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami fics#nanami kento smut#jjk kento#kento nanami smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento jjk#kento smut#nanami kento#kento nanami#black fem reader#god i love nanami
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be my angel
in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.
fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!
Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying youâre going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? Heâs not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where heâs going.Â
Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted.Â
âIs she okay? What happened?â Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word.Â
âSheâs okay,â the doctor assures. âShe was beat up pretty badâconcussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, butââÂ
His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot?Â
âI need to see her.âÂ
The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents.Â
âIâm sorry, are you her spouse?âÂ
âYes. No, not yet, I justâI need to see her, please. Now.âÂ
âSir, unless sheââÂ
âJust let him see her!â Penelope practically yells. âShe wants him here, believe me.â Â
The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard.Â
âOkay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.âÂ
Spencerâs frown deepens.Â
âSheâs refusing pain management?âÂ
âWe gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and thereâs no background of addiction.âÂ
âIâll talk to her,â Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle.Â
The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on youâwhich only makes him feel worse. As always, youâre putting on a brave face.Â
âHey,â Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him.Â
âHi,â you croak. âHow do I look?âÂ
He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face.Â
âHow do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldnât accept pain medication,â he murmurs.Â
You sniff.Â
âI feel okay. Did she tell you itâs not as bad as it looks?âÂ
But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows youâre lying.Â
âSweetheart...âÂ
Youâve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks.Â
âItâs okay!â you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. âIt doesnât hurt. Iâm fine!âÂ
He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute. Â
âI know thatâs not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.âÂ
âI donât,â you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your handâthe one thatâs not connected to the wounded arm.Â
âBecause of me?â You stare at him blankly, as if youâre shocked he was able to put two and two together. âI promise you donât need to worry about that.âÂ
You sniffle.Â
âBut what ifâwhat if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and itâs, itâs like... triggering for you, or something?âÂ
âItâs been a really long time since Iâve worried about that. Iâd rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend youâre not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.âÂ
âBut I really think I could go without,â you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. âIâveâIâve had period cramps that were worse than this.âÂ
Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair.Â
The laughter fades quickly. All the pain youâre in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot qualityâhe's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you.Â
âWill you please tell them youâre ready to take something? They wonât give you Dilaudid. Itâs too strong. Theyâll give you something that Iâd have no interest in anyway.âÂ
âNot funny,â you whisper.Â
He ignores this.Â
âWill you let me call the doctor back in?âÂ
You take a deep, shuddering breathâor at least, you try to, before youâre loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs.Â
Spencer doesnât bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway.Â
âWait,â you plead. Â
He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right nowânot his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time.Â
âWhat, honey?âÂ
âI donât...âÂ
You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your teamâthat Spencerâwasn't coming back for you. Because thatâs the kind of thing you have to do to cope when youâre at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesnât just go awayâand Spencer knows itâll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out. Â
He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesnât mean you arenât.Â
âYou were so brave,â he manages after heâs sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. âYou did everything exactly right.âÂ
âI know,â you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that youâre thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasnât enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it.Â
âBut nobody needs you to act like it wasnât hard, okay? You donât need to pretend like it doesnât hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You donât have to be brave anymore.âÂ
Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes youâre not going to hide away inside yourself like he did.Â
âWill you please, please, let me get the doctor?âÂ
At least this time you donât immediately say no.Â
âWill you come right back?âÂ
âOf course.âÂ
Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead.Â
A few minutes later, the doctorâwho was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mindâis back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes.Â
âBetter?â he murmurs as the nurse whoâd administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy.Â
âCan you lie down with me?âÂ
He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that youâre able to relax and no longer in extreme pain.Â
âHospital beds arenât rated for two people.âÂ
âSpencer.âÂ
Itâs enough for him to climb onto the bedânot that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isnât exactly perfectâhe's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wideâbut with some finagling itâs comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and heâs so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that youâre okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair.Â
âHey. Ask me about my bruises.âÂ
âWhy? Do they still hurt?âÂ
âYou should see the other guy.âÂ
Itâs dumb and it doesnât make sense because you didnât bother waiting for him to actually set the joke upâbut he smiles dryly nonetheless.Â
âCan you please give me... I donât know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?âÂ
âClock starts now.âÂ
âThank you.â He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. Itâs a wonderful feeling. âHow are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?âÂ
âMhm. Love breathing.âÂ
âMhm. And your arm?âÂ
âLike I got shot.âÂ
âWell, thatâs pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?âÂ
âRight. Spencer?âÂ
âWhat, my love?âÂ
A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip.Â
âWill you tell me how brave I was again?âÂ
He takes a silent, very deep breath. Â
âYou were incredibly brave. And smart, too. Iâm really proud of you for how you handled that situation. Iâm so sorry you had to go through that, but I donât think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasnât what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.âÂ
âI thought you guys maybe werenât coming,â you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voiceâlike youâre barely awake. âI waited half an hour and I thought you werenât gonna find me.âÂ
âAngel, I will always find you. We didnât stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. Iâm just sorry I wasnât with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.âÂ
ââNelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.âÂ
He stares at the ceiling and considers this.Â
âI could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.âÂ
âIâm sorry I scared you,â you whisper. âAnd Iâm sorry if I made you mad.âÂ
âYou did not. I wasnât mad at you. And itâs not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.âÂ
âShe also said that you said fuck like... three times.âÂ
âMm... doesnât sound like me,â he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.
âNo, seriously, Iâm so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you saidâand you have to cause Iâm all messed up so I get whatever I want.âÂ
He sighs in mock annoyance.Â
âWell, sheâs wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.âÂ
You hum.Â
âSexy.âÂ
âAlright,â Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. âGo to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.âÂ
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic
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You Mystify Me
As a woman who loves women, this was a long time coming! I hope yâall enjoy this:):) Note: Star likes The Cranberries because I said so. (And also because I like The Cranberries lol)
Full vampire Star x Banshee female reader
Comment to be added to my Lost Boys Taglist!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Star huffed, wrapping her shawl around herself and dragging her feet along the white sands of the beach.
She knew Paul meant well, he was basically her brother after all, but sometimesâŠ
Heâd never developed the sort of filter people seemed to have that would keep his thoughts from immediately spilling out of his mouth.
âA ninth wheel,â heâd called her before his sprite had snorted out of his nose while heâd laughed. The others boys had joined in with the teasing, laughing and nudging her, but she hadnât found it very funny.
She sighed to herself. She knew they hadnât meant anything by it, she knew they still cared about her, but it wasâŠhard.
Hard to be the only girl in the group. Hard to be the only single one left. Hard to be a newly full vampire with everyone else so busy. It was just too much for her sometimes.
She shivered, running her hands up and down, desperate to bring back a spark of warmth. No one had told her just how cold a vampire life truly was.
Sheâd found a nice spot under the light of a dim moon beam and sat down, pulling out her ukulele to strum absentmindedly.
As she mulled over her confrontation with the boys, and pondered when would be the best time to head to the cave, she began to hum the tune of Sunday while she played.
You spotted her mess of curly hair from where youâd been keening behind some columns holding up the dock.
Youâd seen some surfer guys throwing a party on the beach, and your instincts had told you they werenât long for this world.
At least not with those punky looking guys staring the surfers down from the trees behind them.
After years of mourning premonitions, youâd learned to stay back. It was best not to upset the humans.
You sighed to yourself, almost disappearing into your gray mass of cloak.
Death followed you like a dog to a fox, hunting and hounding, it always caught up with you.
You wished you could touch that pretty girl, you wished you could hold her without it meaning certain doom.
It was a curse, waiting close by but never truly close. Watching the humans suffer and die. Crying your doe eyes out until they were permanently red.
Against your better judgement you let yourself become entranced by her humming. You quieted your keening and swayed to the sound, the music moving through you.
Maybe it would be ok; just to approach her, just to sit with her, just to stare at her. You wouldnât get to close, you couldnât.
Before you could rationalize your way off the beach, your feet seemed to move of their own volition, as if that girl was the pied piper who played only for you.
You settled down to her side, sweeping your bone white hair over your shoulder and avoiding meeting her eyes. You hoped she wouldnât notice your unique appearance and ask too many questions.
Her humming ceased, bringing you back to reality just a bit, but not nearly enough to run away. She was even more gorgeous up close. You could hear your heart thumping, threatening to burst out of your chest.
She smiled at you, the first kind gesture anyone had offered you in so long.
Despite your better judgement, you looked up to let your red eyes bore into hers. Your gaze traced every curve and line of her face, memorializing her image in your head where youâd want to keep it as long as you could.
âIâm Star,â she told you, bangles clanging as she offered you her hand.
Your lips turned down a bit at her outstretched arm, as much as you wanted to feel her soft skin against yours, you knew you couldnât get too attached.
âNice to meet you,â you offered her a sympathetic smile as you pulled your coat closed, ignoring her gesture.
Starâs bright smile faltered a bit when she dropped her hand, but she quickly moved on.
âYour hair is beautiful,â she whispered, bringing a pink tinge to your cheeks.
She moved forward, reaching out to skim her fingers through your locks, but you leaned back before she got the chance.
You grimaced as she frowned a bit, falling in on herself. âIâm sorry,â she told you, moving to sit on her hands.
The sight hurt. âNo no, itâs fine,â your tried to comfort her. It wasnât her fault death followed wherever you strayed.
âI liked your playing,â you changed the subject.
She brightened like a Christmas tree, âreally? I wasnât really playing anything, just messing around.â She blushed.
You propped your head up on one hand, practically mooning over her. âNo no, it was amazing,â you assured her, âbest part of my night.â
âHigh praise from a banshee, Iâve read your singing is life-changing.â
You froze, your heart racing in your chest. How did she know? Besides the obvious markers of your appearance of course. Still, most humans were ignorant of the magical world that intertwined with theirs. Was she a scientist? A professor maybe? A hunter? Your heart leaped in fear at the thought.
Seeming to catch on, Star placed a gentle hand over yours. Your mouth gaped a bit when she dropped fang.
âSorry to scare you, you really canât throw a stone in Santa Carla without hitting some kind of creature, I thought you knew,â she said gently.
âI had no idea,â you explained, âwhat else have you seen around here?â
âVampires of course,â she began to list, counting on her fingers, âa few werewolves here and there, a Selkie, a fairy, a dragon, harpies, nymphs, sirensâŠI could go on for hours.â
Your jaw dropped, âthatâs incredible.â
âSanta Carla is a safe haven for the weird and wicked,â she winked, âif you want to join up with my friends, youâll see it all.â
You beamed, awed by the realization that you werenât alone out here.
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head.
âSo youâre a vampire huh?â you asked, scooting closer to Star.
âMhmm,â she nodded.
âAndâŠyouâre immortal?â you questioned, hope rising within you.
âOne of the perks,â she shrugged.
She couldnât die. This beautiful, friendly, breathtaking girl, she would never die.
And there was nothing you could do to change that. There was no way you could doom her by intertwining your fate with hers.
You reached out, waiting for her to flinch away, but she didnât. You let the back of your hand brush across her soft cheek.
âEternal life becomes you,â you whispered.
She smiled softly as her hand rested over yours, stroking the back of it with her thumb. âThank you.â
You blushed, certain your entire face was as bright red as your eyes.
âWill you play something for me?â you asked.
She giggled a bit, âall night if you want, beautiful,â she leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek, before moving to grasp her ukulele once more.
Warmth flooded through you, happy for the first time in decades, âIâd like that.â
Taglistâ€ïž:
@sad-ghost-of-garbage @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @hypocriticaltypwriter @crustyboypix @bloodywickedvamp @anna1306 @arbesa-mind @solobagginses @lostboys1987girl @katerinaval @arenpath @kurt-nightcrawler @ria-coolgirl @walmart-cereal @softchonk @vampirefilmlover @chiefdirector @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @its-freaking-bats @f4iryfxies @mickkmaiden333 @bitchyexpertprincess @warrior-616 @gothamslostboy @fraudfrog @rynsfandomsfun @mack-attack420 @royaltysuite
#the lost boys#lost boys#star the lost boys#Star lost boys#the lost boys fic#tlb#tlb 1987#the lost boys 1987#lost boys 1987#star tlb#tlb star#lost boys star#the lost boys star#vampire star#vampire fluff#vampire#vampires#vampire angst#the boys being dumb#star x fem reader#star x fem creature reader#creature reader#banshee#fem reader#wlw#wlw sfw#fem reader fic#fem reader fluff#vampire x reader#vampire x banshee
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ânever is a promiseâ | 12.4k
old man!logan x f!reader
SUMMARY: You are everything Logan isnât: sweet, trouble-free, much youngerâand, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ mentions of drinking. angst. some fluff. old man!logan x caregiver!reader. implied age gap (readerâs in her twenties). miscommunication. slow burn. pining. reader is shorter than logan and has long hair. charles in his cupid era. petnames. minor injuries. wound tending. mentions of blood. virgin!reader. dirty talk. cum shots. fingering. handjobs. oral sex (m receiving). loving sex. sex with a lot of feelings (is that a tag?). unprotected p in v.
A/N: i just want to fall in love with him. thatâs it. thatâs the reason why i wrote this long ass fic đ while doing so, i had ânever is a promiseâ by fiona apple and âcool about itâ by boygenius on repeat. give them a try if you havenât listened to them (your lives will be CHANGED) (also, thank you for reading <3)
No matter how often you play chess with Charles, you never manage to beat him.Â
âYouâve been staring at that knight for five minutes. Itâs not going anywhere, I promise.â
Chuckling at his sarcasm, you fold your hands in your lap, lifting your eyebrows in mock surrender. âOkay, I get it. Youâre the master of chess,â leaning back in the chair, you cross one leg over the other. âCan we play something else?â
âIâm quite entertained, thank you,â Charles says, sliding the board closer to you across the table. âYour turn.â
âHow is it that you donât get tired of this game?â you mutter under your breath, eyes fixed on the board as you weigh your options, hovering your hand indecisively over the chess pieces.Â
âPlease do something before Iâm forced to make a dash for the toilet.â He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his noseâa telltale sign of one of his irritable days.
His words spur you into action, encouraging you to finally slide the knight into position. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. âYou go now.â
Charles doesnât hesitate, and he moves a bishop. âCheck.â
Fuck. You hadnât seen that coming. âIâd prefer to walk away with my pride,â you joke, pushing your chair back and pretending to lose interest in the board.
That makes him smirk, a barely there grin dangling on the corners of his wrinkled lips. The truth is, you wouldnât stop playing for anything in the worldânot even if this old man kicks your ass every single time he suggests playing chess. âYouâre not out of the game yet.â
Quietness settles over the tank while you allow yourself some time to come up with a new strategy. After a moment, you decide to go for a pawn, using it to block his bishop.
He doesnât stop grinning, studying your move with an amused glint in his blue eyes. âNot bad, but youâve left your king exposed.â
You gape at the board, your fragile confidence faltering for a split second. "I still have some pieces in play."
Charles nods, his brows drawing together in thoughtful consideration. "True. But sometimes, itâs not about how many pieces you have leftââ He reaches out, carefully sliding his queen across the board. "Itâs about where you place them.â He relaxes, hunching over, his eyes searching for yours. A smile thatâs all teeth welcomes you. âCheckmate."
âDamn.â You blow out your cheeks, your gaze tracing the path of his queen. Somehow, heâs trapped your king with no easy way out.
He leans back with a satisfied grin. âThatâs three games in a row. My suggestion is that you start rethinking your strategy.â
âOr maybe youâre just a better player,â you admit, a mix of frustration and admiration palpable in your tone. âNo more chess for today, though.â You stand up from your seat, gathering the board and chess pieces. As usual, they find their place under Charlesâ bed, and you turn back to him, beaming with delight. âI think you owe me one after all this.â
âYouâre a terrible loser, my dear,â he says, his eyes twinkling as they take you in. âReminds me of someone I know.â
At that exact moment, you hear the familiar creak of the tankâs door opening, followed by a cough you immediately recognize.
Without thinking, you straighten your back as Logan steps into the room. Charles notices it, but says nothing in return.
It was an infatuationâor at least, thatâs what you try to convince yourself of. Logan is a very good-looking man, probably the most handsome youâve ever laid eyes on.
The fact that you live with him doesnât help at all. You think that if you only saw him occasionally, thisâthis anxiety that grips you whenever heâs around or when you hear his voiceâwouldnât happen in the first place.
Whether itâs good or bad luck, youâve been sleeping under the same roof as him for over a year, and the crush youâve had since the first time you exchanged words with him only seems to grow stronger with each passing day.
What you figure out over time is that men like Logan arenât the dating type. Heâs never brought anyone home, and for that, youâre secretly grateful. The last thing you need is to see him with another womanâthank you very much. Still, the thought gnaws at you: he could easily be meeting someone elsewhere.
In fact, itâs more than likely that heâs hooking up with other people. It doesnât have to be atâ
Alright. You donât need this either.
Loganâs heavy footsteps resonate even louder, his presence more imposing, and he seems especially pissed off. Then again, he always has that demeanorâangry, grumpy, locked in a constant battle with life.
But today⊠today, you havenât seen him this troubled in weeks.
âLook whoâs joined us,â Charles mumbles, steering his motorized chair to meet him halfway. The chair bumps against Loganâs legs with a thud that sounds almost cartoonish, and Charles scrunches up his nose, his nostrils flaring in disgust. âYou smell like shit.â
âYeah, I missed you too, Pop,â Logan grunts, shoving his hand into the pocket of his suit, searching for something. Thatâs when you notice the bloodstains on his shirt, smeared across his chest, and the missing buttons at the top. Your breath catches in your throat, and you bite your tongue to keep from asking any foolish questions. âThey gave me new ones,â he mutters, looking you in the eye as he tosses the pill bottle at you.
You leap forward to catch it mid-air, your heart skipping a beat. Logan holds your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod and turning on his heel to storm out of the tank.
When your attention goes back to Charles, you see how his eyes remain locked on the pills youâre holding, his head lowering in defeat. âHeâs waiting for me to die.â
âDonât say that.â You squat to be at his eye level, momentarily hiding the meds from his view. Still, you struggle to make him shift his gaze. âHeâs taking care of you, which is something completely different.â You place your hand on top of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Youâve had this same conversation innumerable times, yet each time feels like the first. He offers you a melancholic but knowing look as you softly say: âYou have to take them, Charles. Iâm sorry.â
He raises a hand, his trembling fingers curling around your wrist, examining you, trying to find an answer in the lines. âDonât be. At least youâre here.â
âIâm sure Loganâs tired; thatâs why he doesnât stay any longer. Havenât you seen him?â You rise to your feet, moving behind him to guide his chair. The tank sort of has a chill in the air, metallic walls that seem to press in around you both. âBesides, you wouldnât want to play chess with him. Rest assured Iâll always let you win,â you murmur next to his ear, succeeding in eliciting a chuckle from him.
After that, you help him with his daily routine. Charles isnât heavy, and you manage to get him onto the bed, his frail body yielding to your gentle support.
You slip the rest of his body beneath the blankets, tucking him in carefully before handing him two pills and a glass of water. âAll the way down, okay? And I wanna see that tongue after you swallow them.â
If looks could kill, youâd be six feet under, covered in dust and dirt. Charles sticks his tongue out, putting the glass down on his nightstand. âHappy?â
âYouâve got no idea how much,â you say, adjusting the covers. The silence of the tank surrounds you both, and you can sense his gaze lingering on you. You flick your eyes up, furrowing your brows as you sit in the small space beside him on the mattress. âWhat is it?â
âYou fancy him, donât you?â
Freezing on the spot, your eyes narrow. âIâI donâtââ you trail off, pushing the words out with some effort. âAre you trying to read my mind?â
His whole chest rumbles with laughter under your touch. He finds your hand once again, intertwining your fingers with his. âDonât be so naĂŻve. I donât need my abilities to see the way you get all flustered when he passes by. Why do you think they say older people are wiser?â he inquires, his lips forming a straight line. âWeâve lived too much not to notice the most common things, my dearâand let me tell you that you do a horrible job at pretending.â
âOf course I like him. Loganâs a good man, he keeps us safe.â You glance down at your handsâhis, weak and delicate, in evident contrast to your own. âIâm not in love with him, Cupid.â
âOh, you shouldâve seen him years ago,â Charles says, his eyes glazing over as he drifts back into the past. His body remains here, within the confines of the room, but his mind is elsewhere, somewhere far away. You give his hand a gentle tug, trying to bring him back. âWhen we took him in, he was pursuing a career as a cage fighter. I had never seen anyone like him in all my years of educating mutants. He was so⊠different from the rest. Reserved, didnât talk much at first. But I gave him a family, Iââ His voice falters, overcome by his own emotions.Â
Thatâs when you realize heâs no longer with you, his gaze unfocused, looking around the tank as if seeing it for the first time. It pains you to see him like this, completely disoriented and disconnected from reality.
âWhy are we here? What has happened to the rest? Has he told you anything?â
These are the questions he asks every day without failâquestions that you canât, nor want, to answer. Since youâre not exactly sure the explanation would soothe his troubled mind, you feel forced to play dumb.
âI donât know, Charles. We donât really talk that much, Logan and I.â You stand from the bed, not without pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before. You smile at him, hoping he doesnât realize the gesture lacks authenticity. âWhy donât you get some rest? Iâll let you know if I hear anything worth sharing.â
Once you close the door behind you, you settle back into it, releasing a shaky breath. Being Charlesâ caregiver was a challenging task, especially in moments like these, which required immense internal strength not to crumble in front of him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you adjust to the harsh sunlight, fighting to regain your composure. When you finally scan the area, the only thing that meets your eye is the deserted smelting plant you now call home.
You open the sliding door, the noise breaking the stillness and forcing Logan to look up from his plate. Heâs eating like a starved man, casually drinking from a small bottle of whisky on the table, already half of it gone. After those long drives through the nights and the early hours, he always returns hungry.
You pour yourself a cup of coffee, setting it on the stove to heat. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes: he eats, and you sip your hot coffee in silence, not wishing to disturb the breakable peace that hangs by a thread.
Thinking this is how the noon will continue, you begin to walk toward your room until he clears his throat, stopping you in your tracks. That simple gesture makes you whirl around, anticipating something.
âThis is delicious,â he acknowledges, pointing to his plate with his fork, the rice with veggies and meat you cooked last night nearly gone. Dipping his chin, he adds in a low voice: âThank you.â
Youâre taken aback by his unexpected willingness to engage in conversation. Moments like these are as rare as seeing Halleyâs Comet, so you proceed with caution, as if youâre approaching a skittish animalâone wrong move, and the opportunity is lost.
Setting your mug down on the table, you sit on the chair opposite him. Deep down, the hammering of your heart echoes in your ears, and you hope his sharp senses donât pick up on it.
âIâm glad you liked it. Charles ate two bowls of it,â you explain, unable to suppress a smile. Logan hums, tilting his head to the side as he keeps devouring his meal. You take another sip of your coffee, blowing on it in a futile attempt to cool it down. âHe wants to talk to you.â
âHuh?â
âCharles. Heâhe asks to see you a lot,â you begin, carefully choosing your words. âI know itâs none of my business, but I think it would make him feel better if you spent more time with him.â
The sound of a distant train rumbles through the walls, amplifying the silence between you. Logan doesnât utter a word; instead, he puts down his fork, the clinking noise making you jump slightly, the intensity of his stare becoming overwhelming.
âYouâre right about one thingâwhat I do or donât do is none of your goddamn business.â
Just like that, the buildup dissolves in a matter of seconds. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, nodding absentmindedly. âIâm sorry,â you murmur, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. How stupid were you to think he might want to talk to you? âI justâI want to be of help.â
âJust take care of Charles. Thatâs all you gotta worry about, all Iâve ever asked you to do,â he barks, clenching his jaw, and you can tell he means each word.
When he talks to you in this tone, it makes you think more rationallyâit reminds you that you donât really know him, and yet you agreed to work for him in exchange for a roof over your head and food on your plate. Heâs not your friend, and heâs excellent at making that crystal clear every time you cross the line.
Logan pushes you away like youâre nothing, like youâre just another of the many burdens he has to deal with.
It should be enough to send you running to your room, but despite the knot tightening in your belly, you somehow remain rooted in place, your eyes sharp like daggers.
As another train echoes in the silence, you come to terms with the knowledge that one more question will drive him away.
And sometimes, you speak before you think, as you do now: âWhose blood is that on your shirt?â you ask, voice steady and cold. Perhaps itâs you who wants him to leave this time.
He shakes his head with offense, frustration crinkling his eyes. âI donât need this shit,â he groans, his gruff voice loud enough for you to hear it. He gets up from the table, placing his plate in the sink without much delicacy. At last, he heads to his room, slamming the door with a deafening thud that reverberates through the entire place.
Itâs not a crush, that voice deep inside you insists as youâre left alone in the kitchen. And itâs valid: a mere crush wouldn't cause this kind of pain, wouldnât make your chest feel this heavy and your limbs numb.
Whenever he leaves, he takes a part of you with him, never to be returned. By now, youâre certain heâs stolen all those missing pieces from you, and youâve got no idea how much longer you can endure before you shatter completely.
You seem to have won this battle, but what you end up losing is far greater than any fleeting gratification.
Loving Logan is maddening, to say the least.
To this day, you still recall every detail of the night that altered the course of your lifeâthe night you met Logan.
The memories are rather vivid in your mind, and you revisit that moment on nights like these, when you canât sleep and the past appears to be much more appealing than your present.
Pressing your cheek against the cold pillow, you let your eyelids drop, reconstructing the full scene behind your sealed eyes.
It was your third week working at that restaurant, and you were still getting used to its daily rhythm. Waitressing was working wonders for youâyou had a good memory, and people often gave you generous tips.
Everything was going well: you were the only waitress on shift, and your boss had left for a brief errand, promising he would be back soon.
During this lull, a group of men entered the restaurant, already drunk or highâprobably both. They sat at one of the empty tables, immediately calling for you.
One of them, a tall blonde, was the loudest. âCome here, baby.â He pointed his finger at you, gesturing for you to approach him. The nickname felt wrong rolling off his tongue, and as you obliged, he shoved a handful of bills into the front pocket of your apron. He clutched your waist, dragging you nearer. âIâm getting married tomorrow. Think you can do something special for me?â
His friends cheered him on, laughing and pounding their fists on the table. You managed to slip from his grasp and asked them what they wanted to order.
While they took their time deciding, you noticed a limousine parked in the distance, probably the vehicle that had brought these morons here. The driver rolled down his window, hanging his arm from the armrest.
Though you couldnât see his features, the interaction alone was enough to make you look away.
An hour went by, and the men refused to take off. Theyâd eaten, drunk, and dancedâand driven you crazy in the process. The rest of the customers had decided to leave once they realized the night was far from finishing for the noisy group of friends. You apologized, feeling incapable of doing anything to change the situation.
Your sanity felt threatened as you turned off the TV, ending the sixth round of karaoke, their shouts and hoots ringing in your ears.
âWeâre closing in ten minutes,â you informed them, starting to collect their dirty plates and glasses. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the blonde man standing right beside you, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through your skin. He attempted to graze your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back, keeping a safe distance between you. âHow do you plan to pay? Cash or credit?â
âHow about with a kiss, huh?â He inched forward, his face dangerously close to yours. Unaccustomed to being approached in this manner, you ducked your head, unsure of your next move. His breath reeked of beer and vodka, a horrendous combination that had you nearly gagging on the spot.
As he backed you against the counter, one of his large hands cradled your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. âI swear I can be very, very nice. You havenât given me the chance to show it yet.â
âHey, pal. You said one hour.â
The first time you heard his voiceâlow and husky, the kind that could send shivers down your spine.
Your eyes locked with Loganâs, your pleading gaze seemingly stirring something in him as he got a grip on the situation. His brows bumped together in a scowl, and you didnât miss how he limped as he made his way into the restaurant.
There was something about himâhow he moved, his stanceâthat felt strangely familiar.
âWeâre busy in here, chauffeur,â the blue-eyed man protested, slightly losing his balance while still holding your cheek.
Your rescuer squared off against him, their noses practically brushing. He worked his jaw, his half-lidded, tired eyes taking in the sight of you. âIâm no fortune-teller, but I donât think sheâs into you, bub.â
âCome again?â the blonde guy released you, much more concerned with defending his bruised pride. âWhatâs the matter, Grandpa? Is it past your bedtime?â
âI want you to pay me for the ride, and for waiting a fucking hour and a half for you and your friends,â the older man spat, jerking his thumb toward the limousine. âIâm not taking you back to the hotel. You might want to start lookingâ for another driver.â
The group of men closed in around him, their anger bubbling. âThatâs not cool, dude. We had a deal,â another voice snapped, but Logan couldnât seem to care less.
âWell, the dealâs off. And leave the girl alone, will you?â he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. âSo, whereâs my money?â
He couldnât have predicted it. One of the men behind him swung a plate, striking him in the nape and catching him off guard. Logan collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain. The others took the opportunity and began to pummel him, kicks and punches landing wherever they could.
You screamed at the top of your lungs, desperately trying to intervene. You grabbed at their clothes, digging your fingernails into every patch of exposed skin you could find, but they shoved you aside with brutal force. Your back slammed against the nearest wall, a jolt of sudden pain making you wince.
The blood in your veins turned to ice as you watched, paralyzed with fear that they might kill him. But thenâ
Three metallic claws emerged from his knuckles, and he used them to push himself upright. Despite the blood smeared across his nose and mouth, he managed to stand, his quickened breathing coming out in short puffs.
The men backed away in shock, leaving him alone amidst the chaos.Â
You stared at him, your hands trembling as recognition dawned: it was The Wolverine.
The familiarity, the sense of having seen him before, all made sense now. It all flooded back in a rushâthe comics, the news, the rumors.
âGet the hell outta my sight,â he growled, pressing his claws against the fabric of the blue-eyed manâs jacket, making him flinch.
You couldnât make out what you were feeling. It wasnât fear, but intrigue. Even as the group of men fled the restaurant, you couldnât tear your eyes away from him. At first, he avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes as he retracted his claws.
Once the immediate danger had passed, he slumped forward, groaning. You gently draped one of his arms around your shoulders and helped him into a nearby chair. His weight felt like a thousand bricks, but you accomplished to get him seated.
He rubbed a shaky hand over his graying beard, his face twisting in pain as you pressed a makeshift towel of napkins against his lower lip, where blood continued to flow.
Taking the towel from you, he continued tending to himself. You scanned his features, scrutinizing him.
âYou areâŠâ you began, the words feeling inadequate at the moment.
Logan nodded hesitantly, his silence confirming your suspicion. âYeah, thatâs me,â he tugged at his shirt collar, exposing some of his chest hair, fresh blood staining his work clothes. Your gaze fell there, and you quickly chided yourself.
The poor guy was bleeding, and you were checking him out. Jeez.
Kneeling by his side, you introduced yourself. âThank you for stepping up for me,â you said afterward, and he shook his head dismissively. âThey were a pain in the ass. I donât know how you even managed to drive them here.â
âMoneyâs money, darlinâ. Doesnât matter where it comes from, as long asââ he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and your concern deepened as you continued to spot more of his injuries. âIâll heal,â he reassured you, his expression softening in an attempt to calm your anxiety.
Your eyes pierced his with an intensity that seemed to unsettle him. Warmth crept into your cheeks as a question surfaced in your mind: âIs there anything I can do for you?â
âYou donât owe me anything, kid,â he replied, a hint of gruffness in his voice.
âBut I could help you,â you persisted, your voice betraying a touch of eagerness. Stifling a cough, you tried to mask your enthusiasm, and sighed. âAre you hungry? I could cook you something, or pour you a drink. Weâve got plenty of liquorââ
Logan interrupted you, placing the towel down on the table. âHave you ever taken care of an old person?âÂ
Tilting your head, you considered his question. âHow old?â
âNinety-somethinâ.â
You nodded, memories of the events from years ago surfacing. âI lived with my grandparents for most of my life. When they fell ill, I spent a lot of time with them. My mom had to work long hours, and Iâwell, the point is, I did take care of them,â you paused for an instant, his expression unreadable, though you perceived a slight relaxation in his posture, as if your answer had put him at ease. âI like being around old people. They have stories to tell,â you added, a genuine smile breaking through, âand Iâm a good listener.â
âThen I suppose there is somethinâ you can help me with.â
And so began a new chapter in your life.
The very next day, you were moving in with him and Charles. It took several weeks for the latter to warm up to you and get used to your presence.
Initially, he was hopeful that you might also be a mutant, but his disappointment was palpable when he discovered you lacked any supernatural gifts. Leaving that aside, he valued your company.
âThe shots mellow the seizures. The pills keep them from happening,â Logan had once explained, detailing the medications Charles needed. You recalled the psychic attack from a year ago and its consequences, but that wasnât a topic to be discussed with Logan, and you understood why.
âWhere do you get these?â you asked, examining the bottle of pills with a curious glance. âWithout a prescription, I mean.â
âOh, you donât wanna know.â
Soon, you got adapted to the whole package: his unpredictable temperament, his mood swings, and his nightmares. Logan Howlett was a puzzle box of surprises, one you could never quite unlock.
Fast forward to the present day, you realize it must be already late, because Loganâs heading to work. You stand on your tiptoes, peering out of your bedroom window. Your humid breath fogs the glass as his eyes find yours, and then he slips into the vehicle, blending into the shadows of the night.
The distant rumble of his limousine signals his departure, your forehead pressed against the glass, as if somehow that could take you with him.
There goes another piece of you.
You find yourself shaving Charles the moment worry takes over your senses.
Heâs retelling a familiar story: that one time Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm saved Rogue from Magneto.
On any other day, you wouldnât mind listening to his stories, despite having heard them countless times. This one in particular is your favorite.
But today, itâs hard to focus on it, even more when one of its main characters is missing in action.
Logan hasnât come back home yet.
Itâs been an entire day, and heâs usually back by morning to rest. Now, after having cooked dinner and helping Charles shower, youâve run out of distractions. Thereâs nothing left to occupy your thoughts, nothing to ease the building anxiety gnawing at you.
You texted him multiple timesâno answer. You even calledâalso nothing. Every time Charles asks if Loganâs at work or sleeping, the knot in your chest tightens. Thatâs when your mind starts to spiral, and youâre convinced youâll burst any moment.
After putting him to bed, you pace the kitchen, picking at your nails and biting the raw skin around them. The sting of pain is there, but itâs faint, not enough to overshadow the real fear clawing at your insides.
All these what-ifs that storm through your mind make you feel nauseous: what if heâs dead? What would you do with Charles? How would you provide for both of you without a salary?
Just as youâre about to dial his number again, Logan materializes out of thin air through the sliding door.
Heâs got a dark bruise under his right eye, and his once-white shirt is littered with bloodstains. You stare at himâheâs limping harder than usual, each of his movements slower.
Walking towards him, your hands cup his face. His skin feels rough beneath your fingers, and he lets out a grunt as you graze his split lip. âWhat happened?â
âThey were followinâ me. Had been doinâ so for a few days now,â he says, making no effort to pull away.
âDid you kill them?â you wonder out loud, still inspecting his injuries. The pad of your thumb hovers inches away from his bruised mouth.
Covering your hands with his, Logan ducks his head, closing his eyes for a brief second and swallowing thickly. âSomebody had to do it, sweetheart.â
You limit yourself to a nod, because you know thereâs nothing you can reproach him for. You were no stranger to the idea of him killing. It was an implicit truth between you.
âI thoughtâI was so scared, and Iââ your voice wavers, and you feel your eyes watering, the tears prickling at the corners. âI thought youââ
He doesnât let you finish, already knowing how it would end. âHey, look at me,â heâs the one touching you now, tilting your chin up. Your eyes keep flickering over the cuts and old scars you spot on his cheeks, his neck. Logan forces a pained smile, unable to hide his discomfort. âItâs fine, Iâm alright. Just a bit fucked up, but nothinâ you havenât seen before,â he jokes, trying to lighten the mood, and it works. You bite your lower lip, suppressing your grin. âI always come back, donât I?â
âBut you can barely stand,â you whisper, not sure why youâre speaking so softly. You make him turn his back to you, helping him shrug off his coat. As expected, remnants of dried blood decorate his shirt like highlights. âLet me help you.âÂ
âI donâtââ
âThere are cuts all over your back. And your chestâyouâre not healing properly,â you say, turning him to face you again. The look on his face suggests only one thing: heâs about to throw in the towel. âYou donât have to do everything on your own.â You think youâve never been this close before, his proximity both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. âPlease.â
He ends up giving in to your persuasion, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom. Logan sits down on the toilet, watching you gather supplies to clean his wounds. When you come back, heâs still staring at you, his eyelashes fluttering together each time he blinks.
Starting with his cheek, you press a damp towel to his skin, and he hisses. It takes everything in you not to flinch in sympathy.
âHowâs Charles?â he asks, probably trying to distract himself as you continue to clean his wounds, the towel darkening with his blood over time.Â
âHeâs doing great. Asked for you a lot, actually,â you take a look at his jaw, where one shallow cut is already starting to fade away thanks to his healing ability, something that never fails to amaze you.
Logan hums, tilting his head. âIâll check on him in the morning,â he murmurs, and you flash him a quick smile, finishing with his face. Heâs now free of dirt and blood, his brows furrowing as he pauses to collect his thoughts. âThe other day, when we talkedââ
You cut him off, turning to the sink as you rinse the towel, watching the water get red. âForget it.â
âNo, it wasnât okayâhow I acted,â he stands up from the toilet, and you feel his presence behind you, the alarm inside your head going off as the space between you shrinks. âI know you just want whatâs best for him. For us. Iâm sorry I was a jerk,â his voice comes out even huskier at this time of the night, sounding afraid of waking someone, even though itâs just the two of you here.
âApology accepted,â you swirl around to meet his gaze, only to find yourself nose-to-nose with him, and you lean back against the sink, your spine pressed into the cool surface.
Logan places his hands on both sides of the vanity, caging you with his body. Like the most beautiful tree, he stands tall in front of you, and you take a deep breath, getting drunk on his distinctive scent. âAre you⊠okay?â
You watch as he lowers his head, pursing his lips before muttering: âImma need you to do something more for me,â he says, almost pleading, and you canât avoid the amount of thoughts that rush into your mind.
Gone was your decency when you had to deal with him.
Thatâs when he looks up to find your eyes, his harsh expression evolving into a more vulnerable one. âHave you ever removed a bullet?â
If you thought listening to Loganâs nightmares was painful, nothing could have prepared you for the sounds he makes while you pull several bullets from his wounds.Â
He sits shirtless in front of you, grunting at each of your careful movements. As you remove one bullet lodged near his ribs, Logan practically yells, and you rest your cheek against his, desperate to ease his suffering.
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. Almost done,â you whisper into his ear, hoping your words might bring him some relief. He lets his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder, trusting you enough to tend to his injuries, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.
It takes you half an hour to clean both his chest and back, but Logan doesnât complain. When youâre finished, he goes straight to his room, flopping onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. You see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing still labored.
You wish you could lie beside him, even just for a few minutes, but your last shred of self-control stops you from doing such a thing.
âGet some sleep,â you say leaning against the doorframe, your advice sounding more like a plea. He looks exhausted, dark circles sunken beneath his eyes.Â
Logan lets out a bitter laugh. âDo I look that bad?â
You roll your eyes at that, your fingers curling around the doorknob. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you catch something in his lookâa glimmer of something you struggle to put into words, but you decide not to look further into it. âGood night, Logan.â
âGood night, darlinââand thank you,â he murmurs, holding your gaze until the door shuts between you.
Then you sprint to your room, gently closing the door before biting back a smile, replaying the last hour in your mind. How close to you he had been, how comfortable he seemed around you.
You hadnât just crossed linesâyouâd broken them. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you werenât dreaming.
Somehow, your racing mind calms down, and you fall asleep, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting against your chest.
Youâre a light sleeper. The sound of something shattering wakes you, leaving you startled and disoriented.
Dawn is just breaking, the first rays of sunlight slipping through your window. You sit up, pricking up your ears as you scratch the back of your head, listening attentively.
Loganâs voice filters into your roomâhe lets out a string of profanities, and you stifle a giggle, throwing off your covers and putting on a sweatshirt that matches your pajamas.
Barefoot, you walk down the hall, stopping at the kitchenâs entrance. Logan is kneeling beside the table, gathering the shards of a broken mug. It seems like heâs just gotten out of the shower, tiny droplets of water trailing down his neck.
âThat was my favorite one,â you say in a low voice, teasing him. His back muscles flex under the material of his shirt, and he turns to look at you, his expression a silent apology. âI take it youâre not using your glasses?â
âIâm gonna stop you right there.â Rising to his feet, he grunts, digging his fingers into his lower back with a grimace. âTheyâre called readers for a reason.â
You decide to let him have that one, grabbing a new mug from the shelf and handing it to him. He accepts it, thanking you, and fills it with freshly brewed coffee.
âWas it a nightmare?â you ask, watching as he sinks into the couch, spreading his thighs apart with a sigh while you take a seat at the table instead.
Logan gives a nod, sipping some of his coffee. âAt least I slept for a few hours.âÂ
âAre you really going to stay up? Itâs pretty early.â You stretch your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you before you can hold it back.
âWouldnât be the first time.â
You hesitate for a moment, but then comes your question: âCan I join you?â You prop your elbows on your knees, any trace of sleepiness now gone with the wind.
He squints his eyes, his unrelenting stare boring into you. âFeel free.â
So here you are, studying him as he drinks his coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic. There are so many things you want to ask himâabout how heâs feeling, if his wounds have healedâbut it seems youâve entered a silent staring contest without even knowing it.
Not that you mind him looking at youâyou just want to know the reason why.
You snort, and he arches a brow. âDo I have something on my face?â You decide to ask him, straightening your back.
âI guess I canât help but wonder why you agreed to all of this,â he says, setting the mug down with a soft clink. By this, you understand heâs referring to being Charlesâ caregiver and leaving your old job behind. âI meanâyou could be doing better things with your life. Why would you choose to do this?â
âI told you before: I wanted to help you,â you shrug, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach tightens with nerves. You watch as Logan folds his arms, the muscles of his biceps becoming more visible. âPlus, I love being around Charles.
âI donât think people your age would be that interested in spending their days like this,â he says, and you toy with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around your finger.
âWell, good thing Iâm not like most people my age then.â
His silence hangs heavy in the air until he speaks again. âWhat do you mean by that?â
âYou know that feeling when life seems like a race? And you just have to keep up with certain things that everybody else is doing, or youâll be left behind?â You pause, the words falling more naturally than youâd expected.
Logan nods, making it seem like he understands what youâre trying to say. Whether he truly does it or not, you donât know.
âWhen my friends started going to parties, getting boyfriends⊠I couldnât. My family wouldnât let me. And even when I could, it felt like it wasnât really what I wanted.â
Inhaling sharply, you stop yourself. The conversation suddenly feels far too personal.
âYou never had a boyfriend?â He gets more comfortable on the couch, his voice gruff as he rubs his chin, waiting for a reply.
A familiar heat settles between your legs. âI went out with some guys, but it never led to anything serious,â you say, your cheeks getting warmer the more details you share with him. âI guess I wasnât the kind of girl they were looking for,â you add, not missing the way his lips twitch momentarily.
âHow could they not want you?â
âThey didnât think like you do.â
âThatâs because they were boys, not men,â he mutters, his gaze dropping to your hands before returning to your face. âDid they treat you right, those boys?â
Swallowing hard, you can hardly register the uncertainty in your own voice. âI mean⊠yes, I think they did. They were nice to me.â
There it isâthe faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. âNice doesnât mean good, though.â
You dig your nails onto the table, your pulse quickening, trying to hide how affected you are by his words. âWhat is it that you want to know?â
âCome sit with me, doll.â
Doll. Doll. Doll. Inside your chest, your heart gallops, your legs trembling as you get off the table, moving closer to him.
Feeling lighter with every step you take, you plop down beside him, and Logan sits straighter, his knees almost bumping into yours.
You canât bring yourself to look at himâthis is happening, just like in your filthiest dreams.
His hand slides up to yours, not applying any sort of pressure. He scrutinizes your skin, bringing your hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.
It tickles, it burnsâit ignites a fire inside you, one you know you canât ignore. A gasp attempts to escape you, but you suppress it.
âDid you let them touch you?â he whispers, attaching his mouth to your neck, brushing the sensitive spot where your jaw and ear meet.
This time, you moan, any possible rational thoughts turning into putty, melting with the way heâs touching you. âLogan,â you purr his name, begging for something, anything heâs willing to give you. Your thighs, once shoved together, spread of their own accord, and you hear him click his tongue.
âI asked you something.â His teeth graze your pulse point, forcing you to close your eyes.
âI didnât. They wanted to, but IâI wouldnât let them,â you answer, and as if heâs rewarding you, his fingers begin to tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the floor, admiring you.
âWhy?â
Goddamn.
âBecause I was waiting for the right guy,â you manage to get out, grasping his hand and positioning it on top of your right breast, encouraging him to go on with what he had started. His pupils widen further, and he squeezes your tit roughly, eliciting a moan from you. âI think Iâve found him.â
Logan scans your face, searching for any sign of repentance in your expression. âIâm going to hell for this,â he murmurs under his breath, his hard-on noticeable through his tented sweatpants. âLay down.â You obey his command, easing yourself onto the couch, and sinking into the cushions as he presses himself to your side.
He peppers your neck with kisses, playing with the waistband of your shorts. âIâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.â
You accept his offer, knowing that youâll probably regret it in a couple of hours. Right now, it doesnât matter. You need his electrifying touch, his fingers, hisâ
With a swift motion, your shorts are yanked down your legs, and his calloused hands part your thighs even wider. A damp spot on your underwear sells you out, and his thumb rubs gentle circles over that area, causing you to lift your hips.
âSo this is what you look like when you touch yourself, huh?â He edges his fingers closer to your clit, his breath tickling your ear, and he dips his tongue into your collarbone. âI hear you all the fuckinâ time. Youâre not as quiet as you think.â
It should embarrass you, the fact that he has listened to you pleasuring yourself. But in a moment like this, it only succeeds in fuelling your desire. âPlease. You said youâd make me feel good.â
âAnd I will, but youâre greedy as hell,â he says, his movements more deliberate now. You feel hot all over as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt.
Loganâs on the verge of drooling all over you, reaching for your folds and spreading your wetness. âMen arenât strong creatures, honey. Youâve got no idea how hard it is to hold back.â
âD-donât hold back,â you stutter, losing your composure when he returns to your clit, his fingers coated in your arousal while they flick your swollen bud. âOh, LoganâŠâ
âYou make the prettiest sounds,â he rasps, mouthing at your jaw, though as you try to kiss him, he slows his pace. âWhatâs wrong? Am I not giving you enough?ïżœïżœ
âSorry. Iâm sorry,â you whisper, fascinated by how big his fingers look in comparison to your pussy. âIâm justââ
âNeedy, I know,â he finishes for you, and he picks up his merciless rhythm again. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and you canât help but arch your back every time he teases you, grazing your entrance with his middle finger. âDonât get ahead of yourself.â
You dig your nails into his arm, relishing the way his body responds to your touch. He grinds his cock against your hip, his teeth nipping at the column of your neck. âI want to come. Please, make me come,â you sob, letting out a shaky breath.
A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and Logan locks eyes with you after what feels like an eternity. âPlease, Lo.â
The nickname snaps something inside of him. His fingers circle your clit with a fervency you hadnât experienced before, your pleasure seemingly being his primary focus. âThe shit Iâd do for you.â
You warn him, telling him youâre closeâso so so closeâuntil the fire in your belly flares, and blood rushes to your ears. You collapse against him, holding his hand firmly against your core, hips jerking as you ride your orgasm.
The world narrows down to thisâthis moment, your most desired fantasy.
Logan holds you as you go limp in his arms, rubbing your clit ever so slightly, murmuring soft praises. âYâdid so good, sweetheart,â he whispers, planting a kiss on your temple, burying his nose in your hair. Youâre still out of breath, the pulsing between your parted legs persisting long after your release. âTold you you werenât quiet.â
A giggle bubbles up from your chest, his beard tickling you as he slides his hands up under your shirt, finding your nipples.
âIt was n-nice,â you tell him, your voice faltering the more he toys with your hardened peaks. Your skin heats up again, heart racing at the thought that he isnât done with you yet.
âJust nice?â One of his hands makes its way back into your pussy, ghosting his fingers over your hole, and he smirks when he feels you squirm. âYou surely know how to hurt a manâs pride.â
âI wasnâtâI didnât mean toââ You canât structure a proper sentence, not when heâs playing with you like this.
Logan rubs your arousal between his fingers, as though he wants you to see how slick you still are, even after coming. âAre you going to touch me again?â
He hums, feigning uncertainty. âWhat do you think, baby? Should I make you come with my fingers now?â
Itâs like a switch flips in your mind. He knows exactly how to make you beg and which buttons to push, using that power to his advantage. âYes, please. I want it,â you plead, intending to buck your hips into his touch, impatient for more.
âDo you fuck yourself with your fingers?âÂ
âSometimes, but I can never finishâOh my God.â He slips one finger inside you, causing you to curse, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench around the intrusion, your head falling back onto the cushions. âFuck me.â
âIn a minute.â He begins to thrust his finger in and out, gathering your juices every time he goes back to hammering that sweet spot in your interior. Soon, one finger becomes two, and he reduces you to a panting mess.
Tears threaten to swell in your eyes, and you whine as he involves his other hand in the matter, furiously rubbing your clit. âYour fingers feel much better than m-mine, Lo.â
âI can tell.â He curls them just right, and you push back against his thrusts, tilting your pelvis to meet him halfway. âThere you go. Take what you need, sweetheart. Iâm right here, Iâve got you.â
Everything feels frenzied, fast, the way your inner walls spam and contract around his fingers as you chase your second climax.
Once you come down from your high, your blurred vision catches him tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and he fists himself, stroking his length angrily.
You watch as some pre-cum dribbles from the head, and you lean forward, watching it closely.
âYou look goddamn beautiful when you come, darlinâ,â he murmurs through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tight. Hovering over you, he rucks your shirt up until he can see your tits from above. He alternates between your breasts, squeezing them while he continues to stroke his girth. âWant to see these all dirty.â
Logan truly loses it when your hand reaches out to him, tracing a bulging vein near the head of his cock. You meet his lustful gaze, batting your lashes, and then you feel his come splashing against your bare chest, a choked moan escaping Loganâs throat, spurts of his hot seed landing on your skin.
âFuckinâ hell⊠fuck,â he grunts, still tugging at his cock, enamored with the masterpiece heâs created. When itâs finally over, he lies beside you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, and he nuzzles further into your touch with a groan. âIâm too old for this.â
Minutes pass as both of you seem to grasp the gravity of what has just happened. Eventually, Logan rises to his feet, disappearing for a brief moment before coming back with a towel to wipe his come off your stomach and chest.
Heâs gentle with you, his gaze trained on his task until his eyes flick up to meet yours.Â
âDonât look at me like that,â he says, pulling your shorts back up.
âLike what?âÂ
âLike you want to see right through me.â He adjusts your shirt to cover your body again, but the towel remains in his hand, a reminder of the previous events.
Iâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.
You donât have to talk about it. You definitely donât.Â
Two days later, heâs the one who comes looking for you.
Youâre nearly asleep when he knocks on your door. âCome in,â you mumble, a bit of drool having dampened your pillow. You dry your mouth with the back of your hand, your back turned to the door.
He steps into your room cautiously, as if navigating a minefield. The mattress dips under his weight. âWere you sleeping?â he asks, caressing your leg over the covers.Â
You shift onto your back, your body responding before your mind. Thereâs no blood on his clothesâthat makes you feel a bit better, and you shake your head.
âGood.â He looms closer, fumbling with his belt. His thumb applies little pressure to your lower lip, and your mouth parts to let him in, salivating.
This is just like Pavlovâs dog experimentâexcept that Logan isnât an experimenter, and you arenât a dog.
Yet, when he approaches you like this, you canât help but respond, settling into a routine where you both take take take from each other.
Logan doesnât fuck you, even when you beg him to. He gets you off with his fingers, his thigh, his mouthâbut his cock remains out of the equation.Â
âJust the tip,â you plead, voice laced with pure need, when heâs got his face nestled between your legs.Â
As he stops eating you out, his beard shiny with your arousal, heâs still got that angry look on his face. Your cries donât get to him.
âThat lieâs older than me.â He slips his fingers back inside you, aiming to make you drop the subject. âCome on, baby. Gotta get ready for work, but you need to come first.â
Nor does he stay the night after telling you youâre the most gorgeous girl heâs ever seen in his life. Just when you think heâs fallen asleep, his legs intertwined with yours and one of his large hands under your head, you drift off.
By the time morning comes, heâs gone. You just know that when night falls, heâll be back for more, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
Despite all that, Logan wonât kiss you. He keeps his promise, and you hate how determined he is.Â
âNot even once?â you ask him one night while going over the scars on his back. Youâre in his bed this time, and he has his nose buried in his pillow, moments away from dozing off.Â
âNo,â he answers, squirming slightly under your touch. âIâm tired. Stop doing that.â
âHow did you get this one?â You trace one scar thatâs close to his shoulder, resting your chin just inches from it.
He turns his face to see your eyes. âWell, I was doing Pilates, and IâHey!â He laughs when you pinch the skin near his ribs, tickling him. âI donât even remember. Mustâve got it a long time ago.â
âDid it hurt?â Itâs a dumb question, but he doesnât mention it.
His index finger grazes your cheek, and he chuckles at the way your eyelids flutter. âIn the past, they all did. But not anymore,â he replies, though you wish you could believe him.
You know heâs in pain most days. That when he goes down on you, and heâs on his knees for too long, he has trouble standing up without cursing. That no amount of alcohol, or his healing ability, helps him with it.
You kiss each of his scars before curling against his side, brushing your nose against his. âAnd now?â Your eyes fall to his lips, silently hoping heâll say Yes.
Instead, he sighs. âI think we should go to sleep.â
So despite the lack of kisses, the miscommunication, and the fact that he wonât fuck you even though you knowâyou feelâhe wants to, things are good between you.
Charles notices it, openly expressing his recent realization. âHe looks happier, doesnât he?â he asks says after winning two games of chess in a row, startling you.Â
âLogan, you mean?â
âYes, my dear.â
You glance down at the board, fidgeting with the pieces. âI guess so.â
âYou guess so?â he parrots your previous words, raising an eyebrow in doubt. âLook at me,â he says, and as you do it, he points a shaky finger toward your neck. âI assume mosquitos have taken a liking to you.â
Heat rises to your cheeks, your hand flying up to cover the hickey you had completely forgotten about in the first place. âCharles, Iâmââ
âAre you happy?â he interrupts you, and you nod, because you are.Â
A nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind. You donât know if youâre asking for too much, but it still feels like somethingâs missing.
One morning, you accidentally overhear a conversation between them. The door of the tank is ajar, and right before you step inside, you recognize Loganâs voice in the distance.
âCharles, Iâm fine, alright? I donât need your advice.â
Thereâs a pause before Charles responds. âYou know, Logan⊠this is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.â
Logan doesnât say anything in response to that. And if he does, you donât stick around long enough find out, because youâre already turning on your heel.
A poet once said: âBlowjobs are fucking amazing.â
Actually, you might be wrong. Those may not have been a poetâs words, but your best friend Keiraâs from high school.
You remember the sleepovers at her placeâshe had a boyfriend at the time, a boy she had met at a party you hadnât been invited to.Â
âWelcome to blowjobs 101,â she had declared one night, holding a hairbrush like a microphone. âDonât worry, sweetie. Iâll tell you everything you need to know when the moment comes.â
Luckily, many years later, that moment arrived.
Just ten minutes ago, you were cooking dinner, sniffling back tears while chopping onions, so lost in thought that you didnât realize Logan was already home.
He tossed his keys onto the table, hugging you from behind seconds later. You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, his lips planting soft kisses wherever they could.
âHow was work?â you dropped the knife, wiping your tears as you turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you in tighter by the waist, giving your ass a firm squeeze.
âHell, as usual,â he looked into your eyes, finding them all glossy. âYou miss me so much you started crying?â
Of course, you didnât talk about itâbut words arenât the only ones who can convey meaning.
Youâre not sure how, but one thing led to another, and now youâre on your knees, Loganâs cock filling your mouth. Your lips, swollen and red, suck hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back, and his hips jerk deeper into your throat. âThatâs it, fuck. Doinâ so good.â
Your movements are far from graceful. As a matter of fact, itâs all too sloppy and desperate. Saliva drips down your chin, some of it coating his balls, and you fondle them at the same time you bob your head.
Keiraâs advice plays on repeat in your mind, and you pull out every trick you know to make Logan roll his eyes.
So far, you think youâre doing pretty great, judging by the way heâs gripping the back of your head.
âH-how is this your first time suckinâ cock?â he slurs, more to himself, his voice strangled as you make eye contact with him. He brushes your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of him disappearing into your wet mouth. âGod, I fuckinâ love you.â
Taken aback by his sudden confession. you involuntarily gag around him. He pulls you off his cock, not even sparing you a glance, tucking himself back into his briefs. âWait, Loganââ
âNot now,â he mutters abruptly, withdrawing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
But still, he doesnât want to talk about it.
How bad is it to tell somebody you love them and then avoid them?
Yeah, itâs absolutely terrible, right? Tell that to the idiot himselfâLogan Howlett.
Itâs been over a week, and no matter how many times you press him for an explanation, he keeps dodging it.
Things go back to how they were before you two started fooling around, and Charlesâ questions donât take long to come: âI thought you two were getting somewhere.â
âMe too,â you admit, your voice quieter as you try to appear indifferent.
You have no answer for him. Not that you donât want to discuss your relationship problemsâitâs just that you donât know what went wrong.
When evading you isnât enough, he works longer hours, which only adds to how little you see him. At least he lets you know if heâs going to be late, sparing you from waiting up.
But apart from that, your interactions have dwindled to nothing, and itâs eating you alive.
Youâre madly in love with him. You thought you knew that already, but now that heâs distant, the depth of your feelings has become clearer than ever.
Heâs everywhere you go, just not physicallyâhe has conquered your mind.
And it should be funny, loving someone who used to be no more than a myth for you. Though Logan is realâmaybe too real for your own goodâand he hasnât been the mutant you once read about for quite some time.
This morning, heâs having breakfast at the table when you walk into the kitchen. You hold your breath as your shoulders brush for a microsecond, his gaze following your steps.
Youâre no longer accustomed to sharing the same space with him, so it makes sense that you stay as far away as possible.
After an awkward silence, he stands up and mutters something about checking on Charles and giving him his meds, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Itâs infuriating, how collected he seems. Why isnât he miserable like you? Doesnât he miss you? Didnât you two have something⊠special?
Iâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.
The shit Iâd for you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
Not now.
The memory of his words lingers, seared into your unconscious, though the sound of his phone jolts you out of your thoughts.
Itâs ringing beside the coffee machine, and you try to ignore it, determined to be the bigger person.
But after five minutes of the relentless ringtone echoing in the empty kitchen, youâve had enough.
Unknown callerâinteresting. What could he possibly be hiding?
Charles, you better keep that asshole busy, you think to yourself, swiping right to answer the call.
Before you can say anything, a womanâs voice fills the line.
âJames! Thank God. Itâs Gillian. You didnât reply to any of my texts, and I was starting to get worried,â she lets out a giggle, the sound grating against your nerves.
As your grip on the phone tightens, your knuckles start to go white.
âLook, I know you said you werenât available, but I havenât been able to stop thinking about you since that ride. I didnât see any ring on your finger, so what do you say, huh? Will you let me take you out?â
Red. Youâre seeing red.
âJames? Hello? Cat got your tongue?â
At last, you clear your throat. âHey,â you greet her, pacing around the kitchen. âIâm deeply sorry, but James canât talk right now.â
âExcuse me?â she snaps, her high-pitched voice echoing through the speakers, and you pull the device away from your ear. âThis is Jamesâ number. Who the fuck are you?â
âOh, Iâll tell you who the fuck I am, you intolerant piece ofââ
Before you can finish, the phone is yanked out of your hand, the call hastily ending.
There is no use in playing dumb, not when Loganâs standing right in front of you, observing you like youâre a child whoâs made a severe mistake.
His deep, brown eyes pierce your soul, shattering any chance you had of coming up with an excuse.
âWhat where you doing with my phone?â Itâs the first thing he asks you, his voice still steady, the calm before the storm.
Perhaps youâre not as mature as you thought you wereâyour forehead furrows, unwilling to back down, and you fall silent. He takes a step forward, as if he canât believe your attitude. âThink I asked you somethinâ. Why did you answer?â
âGillian sounds like a lovely lady. Tell her I said âHiâ the next time you see her,â you croak, attempting to walk past him, but he doesnât budge, his solid frame blocking your path. You collide with his chest, and it feels like trying to move a brick wall without success.
âWeâre talking. You canât just leave.â
The nerve of this man.
âYou canât be serious,â you retort, staring at him, wishing the emotion in your tone could capture even a fraction of what youâre truly feeling. âWerenât you the one who walked away first? After telling me you loved me?â
You search for any sign of the man who once held you close, but he feels miles away, hidden under all these layers that smell like cheap whiskey and gasoline. âYou didnât mean it.â
âI did. I meant every word,â he growls, his fists clenching at his sides, and you donât miss the exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles that expose the fragile façade of control heâs so desperate to maintain. âGoddamit! Youâre doing that thing again!â
âWhat thing?â you exclaim, your mouth hanging open in frustration. âWhat the fuck are you talking about? Iâm not doing anything.â
âYes, you are! Youâre trying to see through me, like you can read my mind.â
âWell, sorry to disappoint, but Iâm not a fucking mutant. I just have eyes, Logan.â You throw your arms up, exasperated. âPeople actually look at each other when they have a conversation, in case you havenât noticed.â
âYouâre testing my patience,â he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.
âAnd you are testing mine.â You rest your back against the table, raising your chin. âSo, who is she?â
Logan drops his shoulders, slamming his eyes shut. âI drove her once, last week. It was a long ride and she⊠wouldnât stop talking. Didnât shut up for a single second. She hit on me, but I told her Iâm off the market.â
âWhy? âCause she talked too much?â
âNo. Because I love you,â he says, pure awe transforming his expression, like he doesnât believe he has said it out loud. âI donât know when I started feeling like this, or if Iâve always felt it, butâI do. I love you.â
Oh.
You had heard those words slip through his lips before, but now they sound different. It might be that keeping him at arm's length has felt like death by a thousand cuts, or perhaps itâs the realization that this is the first time someoneâs declaring their love for you.
Fuck. He loves you. As in, heâs in love with you?
âThen why do you keep running?â You edge closer to him, your eyes trained on his. âIâm done with the chase, Logan. Itâs tiringâI am tired. Iâve been sleeping like shit, trying to figure out whatââ
His arms surround your body, cutting you off and pulling you close. The hammering of his heart matches yours, and you return the hug, nuzzling your nose against his neck.
You fear that this might be all youâve ever needed, feeling as if the pieces he took from you in the past are finally falling back into place.
Logan holds you as if in a past life he lost you, but now, heâs decided to never let you go.
This profound sense of completeness, of being where youâre meant to be, makes you realize youâve found home in the warmth of his embrace.
âIâm sorry. This⊠this scares me, alright?â he murmurs next to your ear, raking his fingers through your hair. âYou make me feel things I didnât think I could feel anymore. Thatâs what Iâm running fromâthe part of me I thought was gone. But you⊠you brought it back.â
You feel a deep urge to curl up and cry, wondering why on earth he would ever think he was unworthy of being cared for. âLogan, IâŠâ
âI sound pathetic, I know. It sounded way better in my head.â
âDonât you dare say that.â You retreat a bit, looking him in the eye. He stares down at you with a tenderness youâve never seen before. âItâs not pathetic to voice how you feel. I want to know it all, want to know everything about you.â
âEverything?â
âYes, everything. But I need you to promise me that you wonât run away anymore. I know itâs difficult, but itâs not fair to any of us.â
His eyes peer directly into yours, and he gives a nod. âI promise to do my best.â He presses your foreheads together, and thatâs when his mouth turns into a grin. âYouâre not going to say it back?â he teases, gripping your waist. âCome on, I said it first. Twice, for the record.â
Lifting your shoulders in a half-shrug, you find it hard to conceal your smile. âI may need a bit more convincing.â
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
Before you know it, his lips are on yours, almost making you lose your balance. You whimper into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck as his tongue wastes no time in finding yours, stroking it sensually.
The wait had been definitely worth itâyouâd do everything all over again if it meant having him kiss you like this at the end of the day.
He tilts your face so that he can deepen the kiss, and a whine gets caught in your throat when his fingers pull gently at the hair at your nape, nibbling at your bottom lip.Â
âI love you, too. Very much, to be honest,â you blurt out against his mouth, pleased with the way he laughs at your reaction, squeezing your hips. âBut I still have some ideas in mind.â
âIâm all ears.â
Here goes nothing. âFuck me like Iâve been asking you to.â You cup his cheek, guiding his lips into yours one more time. âPlease,â you mewl, standing on your tiptoes. âWant you to be my first.â
If it were up to you, you wouldâve begged him to take you right there on the kitchen floor. But Logan, ever the gentleman, insists on moving things to his room.
Each of his movements is slow, igniting your skin with a burning heat, leaving his name imprinted where his teeth sink into your soft flesh.
Youâre left in nothing but your underwear by the time he murmurs: âLet me take my time with you.â He trails his lips down your chest, your stomach, until heâs planting several kisses along your ankle. âI donât know how I got so lucky, baby. Look at you.â
Under his gaze, you feel shy, your eyes snapping to the ceiling instead. âShut up,â you say, tugging at his shirt to undress him, your fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen before you pull him into a bruising kiss, sucking on his tongue.
He strips out of his black slacks and hovers over you, his clothed cock grinding against your throbbing core, eliciting a moan from both of you. âSo goddamn beautiful. Canât believe youâre mine.â His tip grazes your entrance through the fabric, making your toes curl in ectasy. âIâm gonna make you feel good, I swear.â
At first, heâs extremely careful, making sure to stretch you out with his fingers while you stroke him, pumping your fist to match his rhythm. âKeep that up and thisâll be over sooner than expected,â he warns, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.
It doesnât happen like it does in the books or movies. No foreplay couldâve prepared you for the moment he enters you.
You move clumsily beneath him, your nose bumping into his forehead as he eases the first inch of his length inside.
For a moment, youâre not certain which hurts most: the dull ache in your nose or the way heâs splitting you open.Â
Logan freezes, his eyes wide in concern. âShit. Iâm sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?â His hand cradles your face as he props himself up on one forearm, pushing your hair back while you adjust to his size. You laugh despite the sting, and he wipes away your tears with his thumb. âYouâre laughinâ?â
âIâm just happy,â you manage to get through the lump in your throat, raking your nails down his back, feeling the rough texture of the scars beneath your fingers. âI love you. Since that day at the bar, Iââ you pause for a second, gasping at the sudden wave of pleasure when he twitches inside you. âIâll always l-love you. Forever.â
As you wrap your legs around his waist and tell him youâre ready, something inside him shifts.
He feels like a madman, his eyes fixed on your face the whole time, searching for any hint of discomfort, though he occasionally glances down at the place where your bodies meet and become one, entranced by the sight of you taking him in, slick coating his length.Â
Your heels dig into his lower back, pulling him back to the presentâback to you, with your pretty tits bouncing each time he pistols his hips, the intensity of his thrusts increasing.
âAll those times you took care of me, when youâFuck,â he groans, nipping at your jaw to regain some of his composure, his humid breath dampening your skin. Your scent drives him wild, and he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. âYou made me feel loved when no one else did. My girl, love you so f-fucking much.â
His pace is nothing more than a voiceless testament to everything he feels but canât find words to express.
With each minute that passes, your dripping cunt grips him tighter and tighter, his thrusts losing finesse. He needs you to come firstâwhy does he feel like a virgin?
When you tell him youâre close, the world around him turns into a musical. You cling to the sheets, the mattress creaking noisily as he clutches the headboard, determined to find that angle that will push you over the edge.
âThatâs it, sing for me,â Logan mutters from above, hypnotized by the crease forming between your brows. âCome on, let go.â
Time seems to slow down as your muscles tense and you clamp around him, your body sagging against him. His name spills from your lips in breathy whimpers, like an endless prayer, and your mouth engulfs his, tongues and teeth clashing in a fevered kiss.
Soon after that, he surrenders to the coiling tension deep within him, pulling out just in time to stroke himself once, twice, before emptying his hot load across your mound.
You gently thumb the head of his cock, coaxing out every last drop of his hot seed. Heâs panting as he comes down from his high, his brain foggy and blissfully blank for a while.Â
Logan loses track of how many times he tells you he loves youâhe does it when he pulls you into his chest, when his lips press against your temple, and when you crack that smile, the one that resembles the very purpose of his existence.
âSo this is what it feels like.â His voice sounds low like a murmur near your ear, and you stir, half-asleep.
âHmm?â
âNothing, baby. Just thinkinâ aloud.â
You donât have to talk about it, at least not now. Deep down, he knows that whatever thoughts run through his mind will somehow find their way into yours.
This is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.
And God, is he feeling it.
dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x you#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#james howlett#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine smut#the wolverine#wolverine x men#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#logan wolverine#x men wolverine#smut#fanfiction#fluff#angst#old man logan#fic: never is a promise#x men movies#logan james howlett
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nanami x reader - w.c 3k, marraige of convenience, mentions of societal pressure but everything is consensual!, nsfw, mdni!
without even meeting him, you agreed to marry nanami kento without any expectations of future love, romantic or otherwise.
the pairing is advantageous for the both of you; you get access to the impressive nanami family fortune that has grown substantially now that kento is managing it, while he gets to enjoy a close association with your prestigious family and the subsequent educational opportunities that your children will benefit from. it's sensible and by far the best option you'd been presented with.
you've exchanged letters with him, polite and concise. you can read between the lines and see that he shares a disillusioned view of jujutsu society, but is more than willing to step up for the good of his family.
you weren't coerced by anyone. far from it -- your mother and father had sat you down and asked if you were sure, that they would understand if you wanted to take more time or to choose a different path for yourself altogether.
but you know the rest of society would not be so kind or understanding. marriage between two sorcerers, as antiquated as it seems, is how you survive amongst all of these competitive, power-hungry families.
from what you've read and heard about him, nanami will provide stability. he's progressive in his thinking, and so wont expect anything from you that he wouldn't be willing to do as well. you've learned that he's a teacher at tokyo tech, and has received glowing reviews; he'll be a good father.
and so on this misty thursday morning, you lay eyes on your fiancé for the first time as he slips a ring on your finger and promises to stay by your side forever.
the ceremony is as bare-bones as your reputation will allow. the guest list doesn't hit the triple digits, a huge departure from society norms, but representatives from the major houses sit in floral-clad wooden chairs to watch you repeat the words that the officiant speaks in your direction.
nanami takes your hands in his. they're warm, which is nice. this dress isn't designed for November weather, but it's an heirloom -- and truthfully, you're glad to be wearing it. you'd never given much thought to a wedding, but it makes your mother and grandmother very happy.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to discover how handsome nanami is. you were previously shown a few polaroids of him -- staff pictures, mostly, but some with the rest of his family -- and had known he wasn't bad-looking, but the pictures weren't clear enough to give you a proper understanding of his looks.
his blond hair is styled neatly, not a hair out of place. he has nice features, strong jawline and cheekbones, and soft eyes, a good combination. you know his gaze can be piercing when he wants it to be, but now, he looks at you gently.
you know you made the right decision.
more vows, a kiss, and you're married.
___
the reception goes mercifully smoothly. the mix of guests -- powerful sorcerer family heads, rich businesspeople, and just a few of your personal friends -- didn't appear to gel too well on paper, but they mostly stick to their own factions. you greet them all until your vocal cords grow tired.
a meal is served on plates so ornate it makes you feel awkward eating off them. you nurse a glass of wine for most of the evening and nanami does the same, politely waving off the servers who approach to refill his glass.
a promising sign that he doesn't feel the need to drown his sorrows. this is a marriage of convenience, yes, but you'd like to be able to get along reasonably well with your spouse.
and, to his credit, he's been making light conversation with you all evening. he doesn't dip into deep or uncomfortable topics like your marriage or future plans, figuring that's best saved for later, but he asks you questions about yourself. by the end of the evening, you feel safe enough to allude to your desire for a future somewhat outside society's norms -- "I've always wanted to travel, honestly. maybe ... spend a few years abroad" -- and, to your pleasant surprise, he doesn't rebuff them. if anything, he seems somewhat pleased.
you have another glass of wine and before you know it, it's the early hours of the morning. you're nowhere near tipsy but feel ready for bed, ready to wipe off this makeup and slip into something more comfortable; thankfully, guests have started to slip out one by one, with only immediate family remaining.
your unpleasant and friendless older cousin makes a joke about you needing to say your goodbyes to 'go please your husband', and nanami's face sours for the first time all evening. your cousin notices and sheepishly takes a drink, mumbling something about it being his time to leave too.
with some final hugs to your respective families, it's time to leave with ...
... with your husband.
in his last letter before the wedding, nanami agreed that your city-centre apartment would be the best place to live in the first few weeks of your marriage, until you find somewhere more permanent that suits you both, and so that's where you go.
you show him around each room, including some storage space where his luggage had been delivered this morning. interspersed with some more small talk, you explain that although it's small, it's well placed for both of you to get to work. he smiles and nods, thanking you with a warmth that doesn't feel forced.
you offer him some tea or whiskey; he says he's fine.
you yawn. he loosens his tie, clearly exhausted himself.
the last room you show him is your bedroom, and it becomes harder and harder not to address the elephant in the room. there's very clearly no second bed, no room for him to stay that wouldn't necessitate a lot of closeness between the two of you.
the silence hangs heavy and loaded, both of you waiting for the other to speak.
well. this is one issue you hadn't covered before the ceremony.
you have no issue with a sexual relationship -- in fact, you're somewhat looking forward to it, having spent the evening admiring the way nanami's shirt hugs his strong arms and chest. but you're not sure if tonight, the first night you've ever met, is the best night to start.
sure, the concept of the wedding night speaks for itself, but it's not as black-and-white in your situation. he might want to spend some time settling in, first. he might not even be that interested in you.
"want me to take the couch?" he asks quietly, with no hint of resentment or offence in his voice. he makes the offer with a sincerity you haven't heard from a man in a long time.
you don't break your silence, but not because you're uncomfortable or anything of the sort -- you're just assessing your options.
"there's nothing i expect from you, just so you know," he continues, and you turn your head to face him, seeing his eyes scan your face for any sign of unease. "the last thing i want is for you to do ... this ... out of obligation or pressure. we have a lifetime to get to know each other, to reach that point -- i want you to be comfortable around me."
your upbringing has made you a sceptic, a pessimist at times, but for some reason, you believe him. maybe it's the look in his eyes, or the fact that he's taken your hand in his own, interlocking your fingers, but there's something about him that sets him aside from normal sorcerers.
he seems real. he seems as though, powers and fortunes and family names aside, he has some substance about him.
"do you want to?" you ask then, voice almost inaudible quiet from a day spent conversing with guests at your wedding.
he doesn't hear you, so he dips his head in your direction; you repeat yourself and wait, hoping you hadn't pressed the issue.
his composure doesn't crack, but something flashes in his eyes as he processes your question. he has such control over the movements of his features, over every expression in his body, except for his eyes, you think.
maybe you just happen to be good at reading him.
he mulls it over for a second, his grip on your hand never slacking.
"i want to," he finally admits. "i've wanted to for a while, truthfully. I've spent a lot of late nights picturing how it would feel to be inside you, to hear what my name sounds like when you say it. but i only want that if you want it too."
you smile without meaning to. "you imagined that from just reading a few letters?"
"yes, and it's a testament to my trust in my new wife that I'm telling you that," he replies, still polite but tinged with amusement.
it feels strange standing at your bedroom doorway, hand in hand with this almost-stranger, imagining what it would be like to indulge in these thoughts you've both been having, spending your first night together tangled up in the sheets and allowing some of the indulgence you've long denied yourself.
duty gets tiring. for a long time, you've been unsure what it feels like to genuinely want something.
now, you're pretty sure it feels something like this. it's organic and unforced, a natural desire that sends heat curling in the pit of your stomach.
wordlessly, you guide nanami into your room, closing the door behind you. there's a hint of a smile on his lips as you ask him for help to untie your wedding dress, the intricate pattern of buttons trailing up your spine proving too technical for your own hands. he's methodical in his work, careful to not damage the delicate clasps.
soon your dress is loose around your hips, your chest covered by the thin slip you wore underneath. you set the garment carefully aside before returning the favour and starting to undo nanami's shirt, avoiding eye contact as your hands expose more and more of his bare chest.
you want to do this, you know that for sure, but that doesn't mean you won't feel a bit of awkwardness at the start. you're not well practiced, having had too busy a life for romantic relationships until now. you hope that instinct will kick in sooner than later, but you've no doubt nanami will help you along the way.
when you finally build up the nerve to glance up at him as he shrugs off the shirt, he's looking at you as though you're the only person he ever wants touching him.
you hear the soft clink of metal and realise he's undoing his belt.
"are you sure?" he asks one more time.
that one question, and the earnestness with which he speaks, erases the last shred of doubt you had. you place your trust in him for the second time today.
you nod and reach across to his belt in the same breath, helping him pull it free from the loops to be tossed by the armchair near your desk.
you move as though controlled by something other than yourself, the decisions coming so naturally it feels as though you've been imagining it for weeks as well.
and maybe you have, you think to yourself, as you confidently guide him back slowly until he's sitting down on the plush armchair, his suit pants still on as you crawl onto his lap, pressing your chest against his. the thin fabric of your slip means you can feel the heat of his body against your skin, nipples hardening as they graze against his muscles.
you've just about balanced yourself, carefully perched on his lap when you feel his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that has you grinding against his thighs before you can even catch your breath.
you've never been kissed like this. the few kisses you've had before have been with partners who see you as a means to an end, be it for your family name, your reputation, or just for sex. you've never been kissed by someone who seems to get more from your pleasure than from his own.
you now know he meant it when he said he's been picturing this.
you kiss him for as long as you can, and you're not sure if it's for seconds, minutes, hours. you kiss him until there's a heat burning between your thighs you can no longer stand, that you need to have satiated by the visible, prominent bulge in the front of his suit pants.
when you finally break away, lips numb and kiss-slick, nanami's hair is touselled - you don't remember running your hands through them, but you must have at some point - and he reaches up to run his fingers under the straps of your slip, asking with his eyes if he can guide them off your shoulders.
you nod, and your chest is exposed to the cool night air for a split second before nanami's mouth is on one of your nipples, tongue circling the sensitive skin and making you cry out.
one of the words you moan must be his name, because you feel him smile as he turns his attention towards the other nipple, hands now at the small of your back to keep you close to him.
you can't take it much longer. you need to be touched so badly, you didn't even think you were capable of wanting it this much -- and you only want him to do it, now and maybe forever.
maybe he can read your mind or maybe you babbled out the request, but nanami finally takes pity on you, giving your nipple one final lick before resting his shoulders back against the cushion of the armrest and sliding his hands up your thighs, hooking your underwear with his fingers -- you lift your hips up to let him slip them off.
his composure slips further when he finally touches you between your legs, feeling how wet you've gotten for him, seeing how you react when he slips his index finger inside.
your head falls back and you hold a breath, focusing all of your attention on the sensation of him inside you, on the way he curls the digit ever-so-slightly before pulling it out and fucking you with two this time, almost -- almost -- tipping you over the edge.
"such a pretty wife," he mumbles almost under his breath, voice and gaze reverent as he watches you rock yourself against his hand. "my beautiful, perfect wife, aren't you?"
you want to answer him but can't, lungs feeling near-empty as you fumble with the buttons of his pants.
"i will never be able to think of anything else but you, i think," he muses, half-smiling. "you in my lap ... you making those pretty little noises ... i might be a ruined man, you know. and I'm glad of it."
he only stops speaking when you finally get your hand on his clothed cock, his breath catching in his throat as you trace it with your fingers.
you want tonight, the first of many times together, to start with you cumming on your husband's cock.
nanami just watches as you finally pull him out of his underwear, his length thick and hard in your hand as you give it a few messy strokes. it's all the both of you can manage before you need to have it inside you -- you shift your hips to sit on it, nanami's eyes fixed on the site of the head slipping inside.
it's a stretch, as you expected, but one you've been craving since you closed the bedroom door. you take him inch by inch, lowering yourself down as his breath quickens, clearly battling the urge to thrust up inside you.
but he's careful with you, and doesn't want to hurt you. his wife.
you lift yourself up too much and his cock slips out, slapping aginst his stomach and you nearly cry at the sudden emptiness, eager and clumsy as you guide him back inside you.
he kisses you when you sink down next, tongue massaging your own until the feeling of almost-too-full turns to a perfect, satisfying heat in your core.
eventually you're ready to quicken the pace, bouncing on his cock before long, your mind working too fast for you to keep up as you see nanami's cheekbones flush pink, his pupils dark as you ride him until your thighs ache.
you power through the sensation, nanami helping you along by meeting your hips with his, his thumb tracing uneven circles on your puffy clit. he calls you perfect and other beautiful words; you don't say anything besides more, more and, soon after, nearly there, nearly there, please, please, I'm so close --
your entire body lights up with the most wonderful sensation, hitting you like a wave and sweeping you away in its warm glow, with nanami's hands now on your hips, guiding your movements in exactly the way you need it -- not too hard, not too slow, not too fast.
you're still pulsing around him when you feel his body stiffen, his strong thighs tensing as he groans through gritted teeth. he pulls you in for a crushing kiss as he finishes, filling you up and thrusting as deep as he can until oversensitivity takes over.
the afterglow has you a contented and exhausted mess, muscles aching but satisfied in a way you'll spend forever seeking.
reluctantly, you slip off his cock to retake your place on his lap, marvelling at how undone you both have become, a far cry from your perfect wedding appearance.
you look perfect to him, though, you know as much from the kiss he presses to your sweaty forehead and the way his arm wraps around your shoulders.
"we didn't even make it to the bed," you observe, eyebrows raising as you finally return to your own body. "i ... wasn't expecting that."
"we have a lifetime to spend in bed," he replies, a smile in his voice.
and once again, for reasons you still don't understand, you believe him.
#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#need him so bad it makes me look silly#may tries to write#nanami x y/n#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami smut#nanami fluff#nanami kento x you#nanami fic#nanami fanfic#nanami x fem!reader#marriage of convenience#husband nanami
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NSFW
warning: slight Yandere behavior, breeding
Hare!hybrid bf with bunny!hybrid gf
You, a cute bunny hybrid with soft, fluffy bunny ears and a cute cotton tail that wags when youâre happy or upset. Youâre round and soft, the sweetest little thing your boyfriend has ever seen.
And then thereâs your hare hybrid bf⊠heâs tall, thin, and unsettling, with eyes that bore into you and hair that is far from soft. Heâs protective and possessive of his little bunny baby, keeping you safe and literally fighting any of his rivals to the DEATH.
Heâs a bit nervous about breeding with you. Youâre smaller, more fragile than him⊠but god you both go crazy once you go into heat⊠and youâre a lot more durable than he thought.
You take his cock so well, begging for him to give you a litter⊠his perfect little mate, his sweet bunny. No one will ever put their hands on you, unless they want to die a painful death.
ââââââ
YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa
#hybrid x reader#hare hybrid#hare!hybrid#bunny hybrid#hybrid smut#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#monster imagine#monster boy oc#monster smut#terat0philliac#terato#teraphilia#exophelia#fem!reader#afab reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#tw yandere#x reader smut#cw breeding
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"you what?"
á„«áĄTheodore Nott x F!Readerá„«áĄ
summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.
warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.
word count: 2.4k
18+only; minors donât interact
âYou what?â Theoâs eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasnât sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didnât want to wake up
Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion.Â
How, you might ask?
Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week
At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits
One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left.Â
Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush
âSorry guys I canât stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, iâm just here to get some food to eat while studyingâ grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse
âWait y/n!â Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look
You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. âYeah?âÂ
âWe were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and thatâs his favoriteâ
âOmg Iâm so sorry! Here-â as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit downÂ
âI actually got my own drink, y/n can have itâ Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,
Enzoâs and Mattheosâs eye widen.
âI- um, but we got it for youâ Matt says with a bit of a shaky voiceÂ
âIts fine, I donât need itâ as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys
âBut-âÂ
âOmg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you laterâ you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.
Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but youâre already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.
While studying in your dorm you couldnât focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out
At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot
Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theoâs fingers rubbing circles on your clit.
âOh god Theoâ you moanedÂ
but no matter how good it felt you couldnât reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.
âGod what is wrong with me, and why is it so hotâ getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle
âPayback- Enzo and Mattheoâ
Your eyes widened with confusion.Â
What?
Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco.Â
everything started to make sense
This is why you were like this
You couldnât even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo
heâd help right? He was really the only one you can go to.Â
Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didnât want to ruin your friendshipÂ
Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theoâs contact.
âTheo?â
âHey Bella, whatâs up?â
The nickname itself making you get butterflies.
 âUm- I need a favor, can you come over?â
âOf course, i'll be over in a fewâ
âOkay see youâ hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you
What if he says no?
What if he laughs at your face and runs off
What ifâŠ
What if he says yesâŠÂ
Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob
âHey, what did you need help with?â Theo goes in to give you a hug
Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne Â
God why does he always smell so good
He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.
âAre you okay? Your face is warmâ resting his hand on your cheek
âYeah, um actually funny story-â Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain
âPlease just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-â falling to your knees, begging.
âHey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, whatâs up?â Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.
âPlease I- I need you to fuck meâ you blur out
That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth.Â
You wanted him to what???
He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open
âPlease, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know itâs a lot and weâre best friends. But please I canât take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasnât meant to me and it had this effect on me. Iâve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help pleaseâ your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didnât know was that so did Theo.
Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.
Howâd he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good youâd take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.
How could he say no?Â
Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.
Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in. Â
Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him.Â
Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.
Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set.Â
âDonât worry Bella, iâll take good care of youâ Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body
âTheo please~â you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.
âpoor thing, youâve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, donât worry iâm here nowâ
He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair.Â
âGod youâre so beautifulâ he wasnât lying, heâd always thought you were the most beautiful person heâd ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best youâd ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy youâve been with.Â
Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile.Â
âYou're soaking wet, so ready for meâ leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment.Â
As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess. Â
âTheo~ oh my god yesâ moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug.Â
Theo couldnât hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if heâd never get this opportunity ever again
âYou taste so fucken goodâ he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasureÂ
âMore please, Theo! oh my god~â it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things youâve never felt before with anyone else
âSo polite, even when your so needyâ Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him
He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for
âM-so close, fuck Theo iâm so closeâ
He stops what heâs doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off.Â
âTheo? Whyâd you stop? I was so closeâ you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop
âSorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cockâ godddd was he hot
His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. youâve never taken anything close to his size.
Theo noticed your starring
âLike what you see?â A smile tugged the corner of his lips
âDonât worry you can take it, I know you canâ
You nodded at his worksÂ
He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.
âYou have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this forâÂ
âFuck ,Theo please, please fuck meâ you whinedÂ
âAnything for you, loveâ
he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan.Â
âfuck, your so tightâ Theo was out of breath.
You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.
âfuck Theo your bigâ you said pantingÂ
âYou think you can take more?â
More???
âThereâs more??â Looking at Theo with a disbelief face
He chuckled âiâm only have wayâ
âDonât worry you can handle it, canât you baby?â
âMhm- yes yes, I can take itâ
Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out.Â
âgood girl ,Youâre doing so well for me, are you ready?â
âYes! fuck-please move, pleaseâ you begged
Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess
âFuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-â your eyes roll back, arching your back.
âYou feel so good Bella, oh god-â pantingÂ
âYour squeezing me tight- fuckâ
One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.
âFuck Theo just like that, donât stop, donât stop please!â Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.
âYou like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girlâ he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.
Your walls clenching at his words
He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise.Â
âOh you like being called a good girl donât you?â letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.
âWho's a good girl are you?â Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts
Looking at him with half lidded eyes âYours, all yours!!~â you moan
âThatâs right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isnât that right love?â
 âMhm only you, ah~ i'm so closeâ
âCum for me baby, come all over my cockâ
You were absolute bliss, god youâve never seen fucked this good, yeah youâve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo
You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm âim- im cumming!!â Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling
The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didnât expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you
You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing heâs close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.
âMmm so softâŠâ Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. âMmm Theo that feels goodâ throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax. Â
âFuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I canât hold it anymore, please? Fuck-â Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you responseÂ
âYes!! fuck Theo cum inside meâ you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.
He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.
Theoâs thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath. Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo
âThank you Theo, reallyâ
âNo need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytimeâ smiling at you.
crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear âstay the night? I donât think the drink has worn off just yet~â
This was going to be a long night for Theo.
á„«áĄreblog's & comment's are appreciatedá„«áĄ
a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo
©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.
#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott smut#bsf!theo#theodore nott smut#slytherin boys smut#slytherin#theo nott x fem!reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#slytherin boys#theo nott fic#theodore nott fic#theo nott one shot#theodore nott oneshot
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like animals â âč
ellie williams x f!reader
youâre ovulating and your partnerâEllieâis looking a little too good
tw: PURE FILTH, not proofread, farmer!ellie, established relationship (gf or married, I imagined married), ellie can carry reader, e can hold onto râs hair, needy reader, multiple rounds of sex, strap described as Ellieâs dick, strap sucking (e receiving), strap (r receiving), oral (r&e receiving), fingering (e&r receiving), muscle kink, degrading, making out, grinding, spit kink, this is straight up filth yall im not fucking joking
wc â 2.5k
It seeps into your system, spreading quickly when that time arises. It makes you feel hot, insatiable. The feeling erases most common sense and fills it instead with a need. Essentially you act as if youâre in heat.
The moment you knew that time had crept up on you was when you were washing a few dishes in the sink and caught Ellie talking to your neighbor. The sun, the golden rays had been placed just ever so perfectly to shape out her musclesâher tattoo. The one that was shining with your wetness just a day ago?
She was keeping a conversation going between the two of them whilst picking up and moving these bails of hay. Safe to say the water ran over your still fingers as you eyed her, checking her out.
Started with her arms before it switched over to her back. There were times when she was working in the heat of the day, so sheâd remove her top shirt while cooling off. You met her on the porch, handing her a glass of tea and checking in on her. Thatâs when you noticed her fingers. The length, veins, the way she held onto the glass. Truth be told, you barely heard a thing she said.
Walking down the steps? Your eyes were hooked on her back as she put her shirt back on. The thoughts were getting increasingly intense with each passing minute. Just before her shirt completely slipped over her backâcovering itâyou noticed the light scars on her skin. The little scars you planted there after a session not too long ago. Fuck you needed her. Ellie had reached the bottom step when you finally found your voice.
âElsâ?â
She hums, turning around and getting rightfully spooked at how close you covered the space between you two. You made it to the bottom of the steps, pulling on her jean loop to kiss her. Sheâs a bit taken aback but ultimately ends up kissing backâbringing a hand to cup your cheek. Your heart skips when you feel her hand slide down your body, holding and gripping onto your waist.
âMm was that all you needed?â
You should say yes. Yes, youâre done, nothing else, continue workingâ
âNo,â you grip onto her like sheâll leave, âno, Ellie I need more.â
Youâre so blessed when you feel her silly grin, it makes you giddy inside. A laugh breaking from you when she holds under your thighs and carries you back insideâpushing you against the wall. Since waking up with a fuzzy mind already, all this making out did was send you into outer space. Something Ellie loves to talk about when you sit out on the porch at night, looking at the stars.
âPlease,â you beg, voice whiny, âplease Ellie, donât tease.â
She had her lips on your neck, engaging in your usual foreplay. It was absolutely maddening, you wanted her fingers in you nowânot whatever this was. Usually itâs nice, but now itâs frustrating you.
You grip her hand that was placed on your hip, pulling it down to your already dripping cunt.
Usually youâd never do this, but this time itâs different. Youâre drunk in your own lust.
Ellie catches on quickly, pulling your garments off and hiking one thigh over her hipâspreading you out for her. She drags her fingers up your heat and chokes on a moan.
âShit youâre soaked, likeâholy shit.â
You loose your mind when she pushes a finger though. Nails dig into her shoulder and your lips are dropped open in a shaky gasp. Her fingers, her lips, her sweaty hair and skin, her arms, her thighs, the way the pants sit on her waist, her ass, her voiceâeverything about her was turning you on.
You came embarrassingly quick. Mightâve been a new record. The moment your eyes opened this morning you felt as if you were already on edge, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some of the edge off. But you shouldâve known nothing would except her.
She laughed a little, drawing her fingers out and wiping them on her pants.
âLove you,â she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips and wondering back out onto the porchâleaving you panting against the wall.
Little did she know that didnât sedate you, it only fueled the fire.
You met her in the barn later, catching her when she was staring to feed the horses. The way she had you this morning had crept up when she came into view and reminded you yet again of how attractive she was.
âDo we need more horse feed soon? Looks like we just have two barrels left.â
She looks back at you, momentarily stopping her scoop of the feed, âyeah sounds good. I can put the order in tonight.â
âI can do it, itâs no problem.â
She stood full height, looking to you with a bit of confusion in her eyes, âwhyâre you out here?â
To see you.
âDoing an inventory check.â
She hummed, moving along to feed your third horse. You stood there, shoulder leaned against the barn wallâeyeing her move around and do the chores youâre very similar with. She noticed, eyes changing in color after a bit when she realized the intent.
She tossed the scoop back into the barrel before her hands pulled your hips towards hers as she leaned in for a quick kiss. She had an arrogant smile, one that made you feel things. You reached a hand into her hair, pulling her back down for a kiss after a kiss after a kiss.
Next thing you knew you were being pushed back into the small tack room, shoved back against the table. She had you sat up on the table, legs wrapped around her shoulders as she ate you out. Your sounds filled the room, reaching her ears and transforming into a melody so beautiful it made Ellieâs throb. She moaned herself from your sounds and the way you tasted on her tongue.
You could almost cry, it felt amazing. It was like rain on a hot day, cooling you off from the warm that filled you. Sheâs holding your legs wide, arms wrapped around them so you canât close them on her head. And fuck itâs driving you crazy, because any jolt of your hips has her muscles flexing.
âElsââ you gasp, eyes dazed, âplease.â
She had her eyes locked onto yours, her pupils blown wide just like yours. Only took another movement and you were coming on her tongue, head falling onto the wall behind you. It feels good, it always feels goodâbut now, each orgasm has increased tenfold. She stands to her full height, bringing a hand through her hair to brush it back and out of her face before reaching to help you. It was like it was practicedâlong fingers gripping your chin, tipping it back so she could kiss you and let her spit (with the taste of you) fall onto your tongue.
You stand on wobbily legs, mind running around from the enactments just before. She had you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she sets your clothes back on straightâsharing kisses in between.
âMm, my lips are all swollen nowââ you complain, but despite that youâre leaning back in for another kiss.
âYou can tell me to stop,â she says, voice rasping near your ear.
You should. It was only noon. The last thing this farm and the both of you needed was the two of you going at it once again. The absolute last thing needed was you finding another way to meet her in the middle of a task to distract her. Nobody needed it, and yet it happened again.
You had met her near the house, seeing her talk to someone sheâs introduced you to and yet youâve forgotten the name. Heâs an older man, near his 70s. Faintly you recall Joel, Ellieâs sort of father figure, introducing him to you as well. Due to the missing name, you gave him a polite smile instead and asked how his day was going. He was on his way eventually, hopping back in his truck and driving off.
âWhat did he need?â
She waves it off, resting her hands on her hips, ânothing, whatâd you need?â
It had happened all too quick and before either of you could fully grasp it you had her spread beneath you, hot moans escaping her from the way you had her writing in pleasure. It flowed almost naturally. Just bringing her down with you when you reached the house. It was near her office, just outside the door.
Her leg was hiked up, giving you room to lick her all over and to easily move your fingers into her cunt. She was just as drenched as you were earlier, the sessions you shared only teasing herâso now it was your chance to give back. You needed her. Each time she made you come, she was up and out the door immediately after. Now, you were going to make her stay, she couldnât wiggle herself out.
A hand was gripping your hair, pulling you into herâwhile the other was draped over her face. Her skin was flush, hot to the touch and tan from the sun. Some areas were tan, her farmers tan was quite obvious. She felt like she was on cloud nine in many ways. The way you looked beneath herâeyebrows furrowed and moaning against her, red lips, watching you pump your fingers into herâit drove her insane. Her hands gripped you tighter, force put into it this time.
âS-shit, come on,â she says, voice scratchy, âyou can do it better, I know you can. Fucking come on.â
You tried, genuinely feeling like you werenât doing somethingâbut whatever you did, it broke her over the edge. She came with a loud, stretched out cryâhips pushing against your tongue and fingers.
âO-oh, fuck. Fuckfuck, so good.â
It sedated you enough. The post-orgasm would help you feel relief. Any pent up energy, the type that ran through you like molten lava at just the sight of her, would decrease. Not vanish entirely, but a good chunk of it would decrease.
The reason why it didnât vanish entirely is because just as you were making dinner, Ellieâfresh out of the showerâhad come to wrap her hands around you from behind. Kisses were placed down your neck, moving to bite as she then pressed her hips into you.
âFeel that,â she asks with a teasing grin.
You hum, moving your head so she can kiss you on your neck some more. Itâs embarrassing how quickly you get turned on yet again. Youâve come two times from her and leaned down under her to make her come a total of one time as well. You should stop, but yet again she found a way onto you this timeâand who were you to stop it. You never wanted the feeling to stop.
The feeling of her skin on yours is intoxicating, and the first time you felt it today. Her tits on yours, her hair brushing your forehead, her thighs brushing yours. Her smell too, brought you to feel all the more bothered. She smelled heavenly, in many ways. The way she smells right out of a shower is the best moments. You genuinely look forward to it as if hinted at the beginning of the soft section of the day.
Usually, anyways.
âDeeper, come on.â
Her fingers, the one youâve been eyeing all day, were gripping your hairâforcing you to take her strap deeper. You had beautiful unsheathed tears in your eyes, looking like diamonds with how you were looking up at herâthe lamp lights reflecting off of them.
Youâve been gagging, nails gripping into her thighsâand she hasnât let up. Knowing youâre enjoying it if the slick dripping onto the floor wasnât a sign enough. She lets you lead it for a second, vision dark and full of lust as she watches you bob your head on her length.
âYeahâyeah, just like that,â she says with a tone that makes you squirm, âsuck my dick.â
And you do, until itâs covered in your salivaâenough for her to slam you onto the kitchen table. Your chest is pushed against the cold woodâmaking your nipples stand to their full attention. She grinds her length over your underwear, slipping it and letting it get caught touching your clit. It was all purposeful, she wanted you to beg for herâact like youâre in heat.
You do, no shock. Hips grind back on hers, tears in your cheeks as you try and hint.
âShh, no crying, tell me what you want.â
âFuck me,âyou whisper, voice cracking, âplease Els.â
She slides your under garnet to the side with her thumb, before pushing through. Your bottom lip drops open in a prolonged silent gasp. It stings so good, spreading you wide and open. It does something to your mind when she leans back and it pulls you back with her. Ellie groans softly from that, just from seeing how tight you are.
âDamn,â she drags her fingers around your entrance, âso fucking tight even though Iâve fucked you senseless just the other night.â
You nod, pushing back, âplease Ellie, please fuck me I canâtâI need you, please!â
She finally does, settling a rough pace from the start. It shoves your thighs against the table side, and they act like a barrier. With it keeping your hips steady and set against a lineâit makes her thrust all the more powerful. Your nails dig lines into the wood, tearing it up as you cry.
Itâs so good. So good you can barely care to try and think about anything. The water bill, the burnt foodânothing. Nothing but her. It was so good.
From her side, you were laid out in front of her like a buffet on the table. Your ass moving with each thrust, it was hypnotic. She couldnât keep her eyes away. Close to that was your face, half turned and shoved against the tableâbody sliding with each quick thrust. You practically bawled when you came, her length being grounded against that spongy spot while her fingers worked circles around your clit.
You legitimately thought you saw stars, mind dizzy as you came down from your high. Ellie was panting behind you, a dork look on her face as she stares down at the way you still grind back on herâdespite having just come.
âYou can tell me to stoââ
âNo!â
It was going to be a long night.
taglist â @picklesarenice69
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#the last of us#ellie#ellie the last of us#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x y/n#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#tlou ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#tlou ellie#ellie x you#Ellie x f!reader#Ellie x female reader#ellie x fem!reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#Ellie smut#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams the last of us#ellie fanfic#ellie fic
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smoke me out
đđđđąđ đŠđźđ§đŹđšđ§ đ± đ«đđđđđ«
đđđșđșđźđżđ: you and eddie are friends â and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]
đ°đ: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)
đź/đ»: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.
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đ đđ+ đđđđđ đąđȘđŁđšđ€đŁ đąđđšđ©đđ§đĄđđšđ©
It's just you and Eddie today.
You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear.Â
Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days â peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts.Â
Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck.Â
Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy.Â
Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.
The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, alreadyâGod forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.
But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented. Â
Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..
He's so pretty.
All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.
You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.
Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.
You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.
They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard.Â
Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets.Â
He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans â anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.
Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.
Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks â Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.
âYou've got freckles,â You comment quietly. âThey're cute.â You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, âI like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.â
âThanks, sweetheart,â Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, âMade it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.â
He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently.Â
His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.
All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea.Â
The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date â both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure â and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing.Â
But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.
It was worth a shot.
âI want another hit.â You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.
âM'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,â Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. âUnless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-â A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, âSounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-â
Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality â And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you?Â
âAsh. Riiight, uh huh. Well,â You pause, feign innocence before your next words. âMaybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?â You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, âIf you want, I mean.âÂ
Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.
The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours.Â
That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.
He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.
He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you.Â
Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing â not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.
Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.
âD'you want another hit?â He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.
You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again.Â
Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.
His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded.Â
Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.
You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs â but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own.Â
A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation.Â
The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high.Â
Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you.Â
Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once.Â
He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body.Â
Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.
Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls.Â
He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there between your thighs.Â
Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic.Â
You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs. Â
The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake.Â
You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea â what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that-Â
Oh, that is exactly what you needed.
You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.
You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock.Â
Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.
A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart. Â
Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-
But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top.Â
As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, âYou good? This alright?â He checks quietly.Â
You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, âGood, yeah. Very, very alright.âÂ
Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention.Â
âJesus H. Christ. 's incredible,â Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, âHand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-â
You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you.Â
Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.
Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened â Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie.Â
You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.
"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"
He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass.Â
You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek â The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight.Â
Flushed red at the tip and achingly hardâ Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane.Â
Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should.Â
A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him.Â
Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right â so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes.Â
âOhhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-â His voice fucking cracks.Â
Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care.Â
You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while.Â
You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention.Â
You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches.Â
âEd, can we, please?â You whisper desperately into his skin.Â
The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-
He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat.Â
âOh, fuck.â You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own.Â
The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size.Â
âY'good?â Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. âOhh, c'n I move?â Heâs all but whining now, âPlease. God, please can I-âÂ
âUh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-â Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. âOhmygod.â You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.
âY'feel so good.â Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear.Â
He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels.Â
âFuucck, y're pretty,â Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, âY're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.âÂ
His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing.Â
The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours.Â
In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupidâs bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-
âOh-â You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, âEddie! I, fuck-âÂ
He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy.Â
Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds.Â
Itâs almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making.Â
âOh, Jesus,â Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, âShit. You look so good like this.â His praise comes out through heaving breaths.
You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway.Â
Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.
The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck.Â
âGod, Eds,â You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, âYou feel. So f-fucking good-âÂ
You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.
âNeed it faster. Harder.â He pants, âThat okay?âÂ
You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, âYes. Please, yeah-âÂ
Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then heâs fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin.Â
âShit,â Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. âGod, 're you close?â He asks desperately.
âUh-huh.â You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak.Â
Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier.Â
âC'mon, sweetheart,â Eddie murmurs against your lips, âC'mon, I really-â He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. âGoddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.âÂ
His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him.Â
The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddieâs own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks.Â
You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him.Â
He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip.Â
âYou feelin' okay?â He murmurs after a moment.Â
âYeah,â You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. âYeah, 'm great.âÂ
âOh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-â Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, âI wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-â
You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, âI don't. Regret it, I mean.âÂ
It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.
Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, âJust, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-â
âEddie,â You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, âYou smoked just as much as I didâprobably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..â Your heart drops, âDo.. Do you regret-?â
âNo!â Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently â With urgency to correct you. âNo. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-â
Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, âYou have?âÂ
Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, âYeah.âÂ
âDoes that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?âÂ
Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, âYeah. Yeah, I really do.â
You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin.Â
After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them.Â
As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum.Â
âWhat're you doing?â You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.
Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible.Â
âJust, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.â He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks.Â
âIt's our handiwork, actually,â You correct playfully, âHalf of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.â You tell him triumphantly.
His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm.Â
âWhat, this?â He questions in amusement.Â
âYes that.â You tell him with a frown, â's mine.â You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. âPut it back.â You challenge.Â
Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you.Â
He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild.Â
âDon't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.â Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit.Â
And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again.Â
You squint down at him, âWas.. Were you talking to me or my-â
âWas talkin' to this pretty pussy.â Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal.Â
âOkay.â You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else.Â
Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.
 â..Do you still wanna fuck me?âÂ
He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.
You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged.Â
Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, âRegrettably? Yes.â Â
He fucking cheers.Â
He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished.Â
You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.
#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#stranger things fic#stranger things smut#*
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âPANTY THIEF !!â
âI DIDNâT STEAL YOUR FUCKING PANTIES. THEY WERE IN MY DRAWER BECAUSE THEY WERE IN MY LAUNDRY.â
âWell then how did they end up in your laundry ??â
silenceâŠ
âExactly. Youâre a panty thief.â
âHowâd you know they were in my drawer ?â
silenceâŠ
âTsk. Fucking pervert.â
#bnha x reader#bnha x fem!reader#bnha x y/n#bnha x you#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha x y/n#bakugo katuski#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugo x reader#bakugou smut#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#katsuki x reader#bnha katsuki#katsuki x you#katsukibakugou#katsuki x y/n#bnha smut#bnha fanfiction#bnha fic#mha smut#mha fic
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