#he has an extra pair of hands for that 🥰

[lerios]

i love how i started out like "hehe rarepair time 🥰" when i was writing brax/romana/narvin and now somehow that has descended into writing brax/TORVALD/narvin lmao 🙃

[jobean12-blog]

Making Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 1,601

Summary: You're busy, your husband is busy but there's always time to play.

Author's Note: Just a little something fun. Life has been busy lately and it was just making me think of how hard it is to find time for the extra special things and sometimes you have to get creative haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: there's always the softness there, teasing, tension, masturbation (f), car sex, a curse or three

“Mr. Barnes, your wife is here to see you.”

Bucky stands behind his large mahogany desk and runs a hand along his jaw.

“Send her in.”

You walk through the door with a flourish and a smile.

“Hi Buck,” you sing.

“Doll face,” he greets, his smile playful as it teases his lips. “Missed me that much?”

He calls you over with a crook of his finger and pulls you in a for a kiss.

“Always,” you whisper against his lips. “You’ve been working late every night this week and we haven’t had lunch once!”

You pout but he kisses it off your lips.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you today. This new account is a real pain in my ass.”

His fingers gently stroke your cheek before pressing under your chin to hold your face to his for more kisses.

“I know,” you say, “I brought you some food and thought we could at least spend our lunch hour together.”

You plop the takeout bag on the corner of his desk and then slip around him to sit in his leather chair.

He turns and leans back against the desk, studying you. Just as he’s about to say something his phone rings. He reaches for it, answering with an indifferent “yes.”

With a nod he starts speaking into the phone, clearly talking about this new ‘pain in the ass’ account. His jaw tenses and his fingers tighten around the receiver showing his clear annoyance over the disruption.

You cross your legs, and his eyes track the movement, lingering before he motions for you to stand.

He reaches forward, pen poised between his finger and thumb, and uses the tip to lift the hem of your skirt.

It’s slow and deliberate and when he sees the lace of your stockings and the garter belt his eyes widen.

They move up your body, darkening as they travel, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“No, no,” he says sternly into the phone. “Nothing like that…”

You fall back into his chair and spread your legs, hiking the skirt up to your hips.

“Yes, I understand,” he says, his voice deeper and slightly hoarse now.

Your fingertips trace the lines of the garter, along your bare skin to the silk of your panties.

“Yes,” he continues into the phone, eyes locked on your every move.

You throw him a false saccharine smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your panties aside and run two fingers along your wet skin.

He coughs and grabs his water, taking a large sip.

“That’s fine, Steve. We can work with that timeline.”

The plastic bottle crushes under the weight of his grip, and your smile turns devilish. You begin moving your fingers, your eyes falling closed and head dropping back against the chair.

You imagine his long fingers doing the work, touching you, grabbing your hips. A tiny moan escapes, and you think about his taut arm muscles, strained and flexing as he moves his fingers inside you…his eyes, dark and pleading.

You look up to see them exactly as that, his gaze drifting from your face to the hand between your legs. His hungry expression moves back to your face, and he watches you fall apart with his name on your parted lips.

It’s overwhelming and unsatisfying: you need it to be his touch.

At some point, he ended the call, and now your heavy breathing is too loud for the quiet room as he sits across from you on the desk, his free hand gripping the edge so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Fuck doll,” he growls. “Look what you do to me.”

He adjusts himself in his pants and you see the straining outline of his cock pressed along the tight fabric.

You grin and start to straighten yourself out.

“Pretty sure I just did that to myself…”

His eyes sparkle and he lifts his brows. “Should have been me.”

“Obviously. And now our lunch is over, and I have to go back to work.”

You stand and smooth down your skirt.

“Like hell you’re goin’ back to work,” he whisper shouts.

Your only response is to grab his tie and yank his lips down to yours before you walk through his door and down the hall, your heels clicking until you disappear onto the elevator. His loud, “fuck!” the last thing you hear.

The moment you step off the elevator you have a text from him.

“I’m picking you up at work. Five sharp. And I don’t want to hear shit about it.”

You smile but don’t respond, shoving your phone back into your bag and heading out through the double doors to your own office building.

It’s five on the dot and you look out your office window, noticing the sleek black car that pulls up right in front. Deciding to take your time, you tidy up your desk and gather your things, stepping out to meet him at about eight minutes after five.

“You’re late,” Bucky says when he gets out to hold the door open for you.

With a demure shrug you slide into the seat and watch him breeze around the car. He doesn’t drive away from the curb, and you look over to see his nostrils flared.

“Aren’t you going to take me home?”

“Get in the backseat.”

You blink several times and stare.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get in the backseat. Now.”

He reaches over to unbuckle the seatbelt for you, waiting with heated eyes for you to do as you’re told.

“You want to play doll. We’ll play.”

You smirk and start to climb over the middle console to the plush and spacious leather seats in the back. He lands a hard smack to your ass when you pass by, and you let out a squeal as you fall against the soft material.

He pushes through the middle, his tie hanging loosely in the air, and you grab it, pulling him on top of you. With a growl he kisses you, rough and without patience. He wastes no time pulling your shirt free of your skirt and ripping the buttons apart until it falls open to reveal your lacy bra.

“All day. All fucking day,” he murmurs.

“All day what?” you sass against his lips as you work open his pants.

“I’ve been hard and thinking about nothing else but burying myself between your legs.”

His hands wander over your skin, and he slips them under your skirt, pushing it up to your hips and then tracing the delicate little ribbons on the edge of your stockings.

You pull his chest to yours and kiss him, long and deep, gaining more urgency with every inch of skin uncovered.

You rip his shirt from his pants and explore the skin over his ribs, the sharp definition of muscle at his hips, and the soft trail of hair that disappears into his boxer briefs.

He groans into your mouth and deftly unhooks your garter belt, peeling your panties down and spreading your legs.

Pulling your leg forward you push him back and off you, sitting up so you can shove him against the seat back and straddle his lap.

With frantic hands you reach down and take him between your fingers, guiding his cock into you. Your eyes close as you slowly slide down every thick inch of him.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

You start to ride him, the pain of his rough fingertips on your hips only fueling you on. His sounds of pleasure are muffled between your breasts, and he pulls one bra cup down to close his mouth around your hardened nipple.

Your palm hits the dark tinted window and slides down from the condensation, but your hips don’t falter, and you hear him moan out your name.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come if you keep that up doll.”

He lifts you off him and roughly throws you down onto the seat. Pushing your legs apart he thrusts back in and picks one of your legs up over his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, yes.”

“Yeah doll?”

He smirks down at you and reaches out to grip the door frame and uses it for leverage, pushing deeper.

“Is this how you like it? This is what you get for showin’ up in my office and teasing me like that.”

“No,” you sass back and lift your hips to meet his. “I like it harder Bucky.”

“Fuck,” he murmurs.

The windows are completely fogged and your slick skin slides along the leather seats. You watch as his body strains with effort, the tendons in his neck pulled tight and you slip your legs off his shoulders, tugging all his weight on top of you, pleading over and over for more.

“Anything,” he growls. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your nails dig into his back, and you cry out his name. He swears, loud and deep and stutters above you.

With a satisfied sigh he collapses, burying his face in your neck. You can’t resist running your hands through his hair, feeling his heart race against your chest. You lay there together in the cramped space, breathing each other in until he lifts his head and your eyes lock.

“I love you baby,” he whispers against your lips.

“Love you too Buck.”

“Come on,” he says, gently helping you up and fixing what he can of your clothing. His touch is a soft caress, and you lean into it.

“Let’s get you home doll. I’ll make dinner and then you can be my dessert.”

[aluraveil]

Lisa im having major braunrot about blade fucking Darling in his Mara struck state 👀

imagine how rough he would be <3.. im getting horny just thinking abt it 🥰

ooh yes anon!! blade would be extra possessive esp when the mara hits him!! plus his cock would be much thicker and harder.. poor darling. thank you for the food anon!!

~

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 ���𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒..

Pairing: Blade x Female Reader (ft. Kafka)

TW: Yandere-ish?? Masterbation, lots of smut, vaginal penetration, bedroom activities basically. Everything is consensual here.

MINORS DNI. 18+ only.

~

Blade has time periods that occur every month due to being mara struck where he sorta becomes.. a completely different person. When he’s in the mara struck state, he becomes more.. insane for the lack of a better word.

He was already possessive of his darling before, but during this state, he becomes ten times if not more possessive. Blades mental state becomes more deranged and downright crazy. He’s more angry and more aggressive due to the painful memories that flash back to him. Blade also acts as if he’s in an animal in heat because of how horny he becomes. His cock becomes bigger and stretches out wider and the veins pop out more. His dick is flushing an angry shade of red and the tip is dripping out pre-cum. His cock is painfully erect and it always stretches through his boxers hence why there’s a large bulge forming in his pants.

Blade always has to deal with his.. problem by himself by sneaking off during a mission to hide in a private place such as a bathroom stall or just anywhere where there’s privacy for him and his horniness. He sits himself on his bed in the room that he’s currently staying in for a mission. What a pain, he grumbles as his bandaged hands quickly undo his belt and fumbles with his zipper. He shudders as his cock is finally freed from the confining place and he could almost cum from the feeling of the cold air hitting it. His hands work hastily as he masterbaits. He moans at how pleasurable it felt as his hands began moving up and down went faster and faster, until finally his dick splashes out thick ropes of cum and it squirts everywhere on his bed and dirties his pants. During his Mara struck state, his cum becomes more thick and the duration that it comes out becomes even longer. As for taste, it’s extra creamier and sweeter.

Kafka’s spirit whisper is able to help with some of the symptoms of his mara, such as utterly destroying his opponents, but she can’t do much about his.. hormones. Kafka tells him that her spirit whisper can be useful during missions but the best thing for him would be masterbation and having sex.

“Maybe Y/N could help you with it,” Kafka winks at Blade as she turns back to her magazine. Blade grumbles in pain as he leaves the Stellaron Hunter’s base as he makes the journey back to your shared home.

You weren’t aware about Blade’s tendencies due to the Mara quelling within him. But imagine to your surprise when you’re laying in your living room on the couch wearing one of your boyfriends shirts when Blade bursts the door of your shared home in hushed, raggedy breathes. His shirts covered in blood and his hair is slightly messy. When Blade sees you, he almost couldn’t restrain himself from pouncing on you. Fuck, you looked so gorgeous wearing his shirt and your scent smelled just like him. Blades thoughts were clouded with nothing but lust as he imagined the ways he wanted to ravage your body right then and there.

“Blade? What’s wrong?” You asked him with your eyes full of concern.

Blade’s breathing becomes shallow as his finger points to a certain place. “The mara.” Blade isn’t a man of many words, you were confused on what he meant until you look down and oh. You quickly catch on and realize he’s having another Mara flare up at that moment and he’s painfully horny.

“I can try my best.. and help if you would like- woah!”

You barely even finished your sentence before Blade lifted you up and rushed to your shared bedroom. He tosses you onto the mattress and he hurriedly rushes to undo his pants. You stare in awe as you look at how huge his cock had become. You could see the pre-cuz leaking out and how desperate it was for some friction. You and Blade have had sex many times in the past before, but the difference between now and then was big especially since this would be your first time having sex with him in his Mara struck state.

Blade’s bandaged hands begin to stroke himself and he groaned at the feeling. He quickly climbed on top of the mattress as he rushed to undo your clothing. Your shirt that you borrowed from him was quickly thrown and your laced panties were ripped off.

Blade immediately pounces on you and begins to push inch after inch of his cock into you. You cry out in pain because of how big and thick he is. Blade makes sure to savor every inch of your walls being wrapped around him and he groans at how tight you feel.

“M’gonna pound you,” He breathes out in rushed breathes as he begins to thrust in and out. “Gonna mark you up and make you mine..”

You moan at the feeling of Blade’s dick going in and out. It felt so good and you could feel every inch poking and prodding your insides. The bed began to shake as Blade started going rougher and rougher.

Unfortunately for you, Blades stamina is also increased a lot when he’s having a mara flare up. Which means that whenever you have sex with him during this, you can expect that he’s gonna be cumming inside you a lot and that you’re gonna be having rough sex for a couple of hours. You can also expect that from now on, you’ll be having sex with Blade during his mara flare up all the time since you so nicely volunteered to help him. You’re impressed and shocked with how Blade is able to have sex with you for such long periods of time and how hes able to bend and fold you in numerous positions as he thrusts in and out of your hole. At this point, know that you won’t be leaving the bedroom for at least a week every month.

After your first night of rough intercourse, Blade immediately reports back the good results to Kafka. She notices that whenever Blade is with you during his Mara flare ups, hes more calmer and hes able to control the Mara within him and keep himself more at bay. Meanwhile you’re laying on Blade’s lap with your clothed pussy is all used up and worn out from the abuse of his large cock while your arms, body, and neck are all covered in bite marks and hickeys. Blade has his arms wrapped around your waist as he rests his face on the side of your neck. He feels calmer now because his sweet girlfriend helped him.

Now imagine when you open the door to your shared home one day when you notice a pink present laying on top of your porch with a magenta ribbon. Curious, you open the box only to be greeted with a red laced lingerie set. Your face immediately heats up in embarrassment as you notice a note also placed inside the box.

“For Bladie’s next mara flare up ;)

-Kafka”

Your breath hitched as you feel a strong pair of arms wrap themselves around you. You realize it’s Blade as he nuzzled his face into your neck, then he notices the box you’re holding in his hand.

“Pretty.” He mumbles, “I want you to wear that for me.” You could feel his bulge start to harden as he grinds himself against your ass. “The mara is coming back..” Blade says with a hushed voice, “Be a good girl and help me.”

Well who were you to deny your boyfriend access? After all, you loved him a lot and you were of course willing to help him contain the Mara <3

~

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[bettystonewell]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 coming 21/02 🇦🇺🕕

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn’t looking for a mate. Not only does he think he doesn’t deserve one, but the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain’t real. He still has free will, and saving you from monsters is just another part of the job.

The demons in your life, though? They’re closer than he realises, more personal, and his inner alpha won’t let him leave you behind with them. But can Dean embrace everything that comes with claiming someone? 18+ only MDNI

Tags: omegaverse, soulmate AU, pregnancy, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, SMUT, breeding, claiming, knotting, nesting, angst, fluff, endgame is Dad!Dean (and the parenting skills we all know he has), Protective!Dean, (dual POV), somewhat of a fix-it

WARNING: This story implies/references some potentially triggering topics including domestic violence and abuse, sexual assault, a past miscarriage (chemical pregnancy), and follows the journey of how the characters deal with it. Please consider these carefully before reading. I can’t stress this enough!

A/N: This all started out as a one shot idea of Dean playing with kids and nerf guns. That one shot hasn’t been written yet because my brain wanted to know where the kids came from, but Dean will get his hands on a nerf gun in this fic.—————————————————————

CHAPTERS

uploading weekly on Fridays 🇦🇺🕕

Chapter 1 - Yearning

Chapter 2 - Harbouring 28/02

Chapter 3 - Confronting

Chapter 4 - Familiarising

Chapter 5 - Languishing

Chapter 6 - Domesticating

Chapter 7 - Honeydaying

Chapter 8 - Disconcerting

Chapter 9 - Ruminating

Chapter 10 - Saddling

Chapter 11 - Containment

Chapter 12 - Sentiment

Chapter 13 - Derisionment

Chapter 14 - Announcement

Chapter 15 - Dissappointment

Chapter 16 -

Chapter 17 -

Chapter 18 -

Chapter 19 -

Chapter 20 -

TIMESTAMPS TBA

EXTRAS/RELATED

Writing Game Snippet

100 Followers Celebration Sneak Peak

WIP WEDNESDAY (20/02) Chapter 16

—————————————————————Please Remember folks, abuse isn’t always physical. It’s also not easy to admit when you’re going through it, or sometimes even realise. Look after yourselves, and keep an eye out for signs from those you love. ❤️ —————————————————————If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any of my other works, please let me know, or you can add yourself HERE

I’ll be tagging all the lovely people signed up for my DEAN TAGLIST too, of course 🥰

[wroteclassicaly]

For The Record

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: You have a surprise for your best-friend Steve.

Word count: 1,647

Warnings: Language, NSFW, creampie, vaginal sex, slight choking, slight breeding kink if you squint, and fluff.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

A/N: Just a filthy little thing that I’ve been nurturing for a few days. No point to it, just showing Stevie some love! Haven’t written anything this lengthy in a while, but I hope y’all enjoy? ;P 💕❤️🥰♥️

Steve. Steve-fucking-Harrington. The heart of your group with a head of hair (that you’d washed, brushed, picked monster guts out of, and pulled, one too many times), a comforting smile that reminded you of Summer’s fading sunsets that give way to fall colors. All copper, rust, orange, mossy caramels swirling together, deep browns that look like cinnamon (smells like the gum he chews, or the breath spray he carries in his back pocket), sometimes even red in how his cheeks tinge on cold days, the way he makes your body warm. To his protective - fighter mode, like a crafted out of the finest marble guardian-angelic-god.

You’d worship at his temple. All day. Every single day.

His mouth has been in as many places as his hands. He knows every scar, just as much as he’s aware of spots, in which kissing you will cause goosebumps to electrify, sparking themselves known across your skin, or where his fingers will cause that high pitched whine to come from between your lips. You can’t really fathom that it’s been happening, especially for how long. There’s been no talk of labels, what anything means, it’s just been two friends crossing a line and fucking one another on it. You don’t know what you would’ve done, had it not been for Steve-the-hair-Harrington, King Steve, your extra heartbeat, your best-friend, your everything.

And that’s what led you to your current predicament, your planned leap of faith. Wrapped in a maroon colored mini gift bag, you had placed the packet. Steve arrived not long after, movies and pizza balanced in his massive hands, keys dangling from the middle finger of his left hand, a cheesy grin pressing into that beautiful mouth. “Hey, honey,” he had said. “Really missed you today, you know that?”

You’d taken in his appearance of dark Levi’s and a black belt, his signature Nike’s, and a low dipped white v-neck that he’d thrown a plain blue button over, leaving it open, his gold chain visible, nestled in that patch of chest hair. Salivating more at him than the food, it took you a second to help him inside.

You ate in avid chatter, watched one of the lamest, but most comforting horror films Steve could find on the shelves (that no one rented but he knew you’d appreciate), whilst being tucked beneath his bicep, warmed at his side. That’s when you’d retrieved the gift off your coffee table, his palm rubbing circles across your spine, kneading tension until you returned to your position. You handed him the bag and his bushy brows had pinched together, an adorable confusion clear. “For me? What did I do?”

“Just open it, Harrington. Before my nerves make me take it back.”

He cradled the parcel protectively, a pout forming as his watch strapped wrist dips inside. “No way, no how. Nope, not now.”

“Steve…” you laughed lightly, suddenly swallowing as he pulled the packet out, trying to make sense of the name.

“Contraceptive? I don’t… Isn’t this birth control?” He shook the packet before planting it in his massive palm.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, choking you like a vice, preventing you from answering in a full sentence.

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s yours? Why did you wrap it up and give it to me?”

“There’s a few missing already, Steve. I just wanted to get used to them before… Before I told you.”

“Told me, what?” He still looked puzzled, seeking out where you’d opened the package and taken a few tablets.

“That I just wanna use these from now on. Nothing else. If you, if that’s okay with you...?” You had felt the sharp claws of the butterflies, threatening to demolish your remaining courage. But this was Steve, you needed to remember that.

It took him a few moments, but then his pupils expanded within the enriching mossy flecks of his irises, at a rapid pace. His tongue licked at the five o’clock shadow above his upper lip. His voice, you’ll never forget how it sounded. Honey-hot and hoarse, raspy with bitten want, raw fucking desire. You’d clenched your thighs together, tongue eager to lick him… every-fucking-where — the burn of it felt on the muscle’s tip.

“Isn’t that something you do with a boyfriend, though? Not casual sex with a good friend, one of your best-friends?”

And you nod, vision swimming with shapes. Had you messed up? Fuck it. “It is.” Is what you’d responded with, taking the packet from him and tossing it with the bag back onto the table. The movie was rolling credits in the background and you were watching Steve’s dotted jugular as he swallowed, showcasing those tendons, all the way up to that stubble bitten jawline, dotted with freckles and moles.

“And who is your boyfriend, honey?” He had to hear you say it. If it’s what he thought it was, or you’d simply break his heart and move on to this guy. Could he really believe in a good thing again?

You leapt off that faithful precipice, years and feelings following, eyes locking, gaze unrelenting. “I was hoping it would be you.”

He was obviously choked up, orbs alight with mirth and excitement, among other things. “Funny that you mention that, because I’ve been hoping for the exact same thing.”And he’d fallen into your arms, seizing you with a kiss, noses nudging, tongues eager and messy. Clothes couldn’t come off fast enough.

The king sized condom lays unopened on your plush blush rug. Having fallen out of Steve’s wallet, that had also tumbled from his jean pocket in haste. Everything was out of control in the best possible way. You could’ve sworn you died a few minutes prior and came back as immortal — able to see through particles that floated on the air, hear cars, horns, music from houses all across town, smell the leaves that clung to the trees, damp with rain water and Autumn air. Your eyes roll back, perspiration damp behind the backs of your knees, where he’s got his current pinching grip, the fat of your thighs pressed into your tits, squishing them.

You realize in the moment, that you truly loathe condoms. Because this? Feeling that wet pre-cum smear down his shaft and around your opening as he pushed himself into you without a barrier for the first time, it was an indescribable experience. Each ridge, every vein, so hot, soft, and fucking, soaking wet. You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. It hurts like hell, aches in the deepest parts of you, a place you know that he could easily put a child if you slipped up on your only remaining protection.

That thought makes you tighten around him, cream spilling out and further slicking back the curls gathered at his base. He drops your thighs, sweat-slick pelvis smashing into yours, stimulating your swollen clit. His chest hair scrapes against your pebbled nipples, making you arch your back and your toes curl, legs locking around his lower waist. He whines, palm coming up to grasp at your breast, calloused thumb strumming around your areola. “God, honey, your fucking nipples were made for my mouth to suck on.”

And he’s descending, his lips closing over one, tongue flicking and stimulating. You cry out, hand fisting into his honey streaked, chestnut locks. His shoulders work and bend, the dips and freckles and moles visible, glittering with the salt of sweat, his gold chain swaying out from his hairy chest and back again when he stops, nose bumping yours, hot breath on your mouth. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

And holy hell, his vocalizing focus doesn’t cease. “Who took your virginity, honey?” You both know it wasn’t him. But you are well aware what he’s getting at, and as he gives a harsh snap, those full and fat balls smacking your slick ass, you lose further coherency. “That’s right,” he’s speaking again. “They don’t matter, but I do.”

You weren’t aware that you could make the noises that you are. Only able to speak once Steve’s tugging himself and pulling out, stringing from your cunt to his shaft, a squelch echoing. You both groan, emptiness already jumpstarted. You plead for him. “Please, Stevie, need you! Put it back in —“

“Say it, say you’re just a hole for me to fill. That you’re only mine, baby.”

“I… Fuck! Stevie, all my holes are only yours, I’m only yours!”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, before his jaw drops open and he whimpers. His hand leaves your breast and slides across your sternum, your collarbone, and settles at your neck. You nod to encourage, and those defined digits wrap around your throat.

“Tell me you love these big hands, sweetheart. Because they’re for you. They belong to you!”

“Want them all over me, Steve. All the time. Can’t get enough of you.”

He’s holding firm to his cock, stroking and teasing. You lick your lips as you stare at it, drooling. Reaching down, you tap his wrist (his arm, all muscles and tendons, thick and available to trace with your tongue), as he presses the thick red head into your clit, smearing the combination of you two all around. You mewl in appreciation, legs stretching so far apart that your muscles protest. He’s speaking next, panting out, “Like that? Hey, look at me. He grabs your chin, thumb tugging down your bottom lip. “Like. That?”

Your lip releases with a plop.

“Yes, yes! Don’t stop, Steve, never wanna not feel you again, baby boy!”

“That’s a good girl, that’s my girl.” He circles your sore opening and slips back inside with a loud, wet ease. You bite back the burning pain, welcoming the damp tears of pleasure along your lashes.

Your manicured nails cling to his back, his chest gliding along yours, heartbeat to hammering heartbeat. It’s frantic whispers and begging cries. And when he’s close to coming, you find his cheek with one hand, holding. “For the record, you’ve never been casual to me, Steve Harrington.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hiii!! 🥰 is it ok if I can request nanami w a bunnygirl!reader who is kinda shy and going through her heat but she doesnt wanna bother him about it. Thank you! 💘

In the Heat of Things 🐰 (Nanami x F!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you're Nanami's bunny girl girlfriend who is going through a rough time during your "cycle", so your gentlemanly boyfriend takes it upon himself to help you out and ease your heat when your body tells him what your mouth can't.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Bunnygirl!Reader; Shy!GF!Reader; BF!Nanami; Dom!Nanami + sub!Reader; Heat Symptoms; Dry Humping; Tongue Kissing; Oral (Giving & receiving); Ear Pulling; Mild Degradation + Praise; Spanking; Facefuck; Ear & Tail Stroking; Clit Stimulation; Multiple Positions (Missionary, Doggystyle, 69, etc); Cock Drunk!Reader; Pussy Drunk!Nanami; Multiple Orgasms for Reader; Creampie; Internal Cumshot; Cum on Ass; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for your patience, Anon! I hope you enjoy this one! -Jazz 🩷🩷🩷

********

“Is anything the matter, darling?” Nanami worriedly asks you. “You barely touched your carrot cake.” 

You tentatively look up at him from your plate of delicious carrot cake adorned in sweet vanilla whipped cream while Nanami got vanilla bean ice cream instead for his dessert. He thought that paying an extra $16 for dessert would put a smile on you that dinner didn’t, but it hasn’t. 

And dinner was good! Your wonderful, amazing boyfriend has noticed how hard you’ve been working lately and took it upon himself to take you out tonight. He took a break from hunting curses and saving people to take you out to a romantic steak restaurant that he knew you’d enjoy. 

But despite how good you look in your pretty dress, your frown does nothing to make your beauty more radiate. Your happiness is what is most pretty to him. 

You look at him, blinking at him with those big, pretty, doe-like eyes. “What?” you dumbly ask. Realizing what he said, you wither in your pretty dress and lower your fork. “O-Oh, sorry. I’m fine, really…just lost in thought.” 

You look around the steak restaurant, watching all of the romantic couples be all cute and engaged in each other. So unlike you. You turn to your boyfriend sitting across from you, feeling terrible for treating him so badly. Your bunny ears, once sitting high on your head, droop with shame. “Please don’t worry about me, babe, really! I’m just a bit tired from work.” 

And you aren’t lying. Work has been taking a chunk out of your soul lately, but only to distract you from your main issue. One of which you have yet to discuss with Nanami as his bunny girlfriend. 

You and Nanami have been dating for almost a year now and you’ve been enjoying them immensely. It’s so hard to find a relationship that isn’t solely physical just because you’re a bunny girl. Most men just want to fuck you because of how sexualized your species is, but not Nanami. He took one look at you and wanted to put you in his pocket forever. 

Everything with him is amazing: the weekend sleepovers, the late-night talks and cuddles, the kissing, the touching, the sex. The sex, especially. Nanami is amazing when it comes to making your body feel good. Part of why is because you feel so comfortable with him. You feel like you can tell him everything and he’d never judge you. 

Except for this ‘issue’. You can’t tell him that…not yet, at least. Not until it’s over. 

“Well, if you’d like to leave, we can,” he says comfortingly. “I just figured we’d have a night together since work has been so hectic for us.” 

“No, no!” You protest, taking his hand in yours. “Kento, it’s fine! The last thing I want to do is go home and sleep when I could be spending time with you.” 

He smiles at you, a light pink blush appearing on his handsome features. “I agree. I’ve been looking forward to being with you all week. Every time we talked on the phone, I wanted to race to your apartment like a madman and see you.” His gaze is intense and almost hungered. It excites you, especially coming from a man as calm and collected as Nanami Kento.

“Oh,” you exhale. “That’s so sweet.” Though you look calm, you are losing it on the inside. You feel a warm buzz that the wine could never give you at his sweet, intimate words, each one going straight between your thighs. 

Nanami shrugs, clearing his throat to will away the blush. “It’s only true,” he sheepishly says. “I guess you could say I’m crazy about you. I know a couple of people would say so, like Habibara.” 

But as he continues to talk, you once again drift away with your thoughts. Your dirty, nasty, filthy, raunchy, slutty thoughts of you getting bent over the dinner table by your perfect boyfriend. Him hiking up your dress making you moan and sob as he spanks your ass raw. Him fucking you stupid with his tongue, fingers, and cock in front of everyone at the restaurant until you’re creaming all over his— 

“Y/N?” He asks. You blink at him, snapping back to reality. “H-Huh?” You say. “Did you say something?” 

Nanami’s brows furrow in concern. “I asked if you were doing anything next weekend,” he repeats. He leans in as if to keep others from hearing in on your convo. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little…flushed. Funny, I thought it was rather nippy in here.” 

You place your hands on your cheeks, your bunny ears drooping in embarrassment. Sure enough, they are warm just like the rest of your body despite your spaghetti-strap dress. “It’s just the alcohol.” You wave down your waiter eagerly. “Um, excuse me!” You shout. “Another glass of water, extra ice please.” 

He nods and fetches it for you, making you believe that some ice-cold water will soothe your hot flash. But it won’t. Because it’s not the alcohol’s fault. The truth is it’s none of those things. 

It’s not the wine or work or you being tired. It’s because you’re in heat. You’re going through it, experiencing all of the symptoms: heavy breathing, random hot flashes, hardened nipples, a dripping wet pussy, etc. To put it bluntly, you’re extremely, pitifully horny. All for the man sitting across from you. 

Nanami doesn’t know that his precious bunny girl is feening for his cock…more than usual, anyway. He just thinks you’re tired. “I think that maybe we should call it a night, darling. You don’t seem like yourself.” 

The waiter comes back with your water, thank God, and you take a much-needed sip. “No, baby, I’m fine,” you protest, squeezing his hand. “I’m just tired from work, but I want to finish dinner. I’ve been looking forward to this too.” You try not to shiver in delight as his thumb caresses your knuckles and you clamp your thighs tight together. “Now let’s dig in,” you giggle and practically gulp down your dessert. 

After dinner and getting wet over Nanami snatching the bill up to pay, he walks you outside to his car and drives you back to your apartment. Once outside the building, he helps you out and stands with you in the lot. You feel as if you’re the only two existing on Earth now. “That was delicious, Nanami,” you sigh. “I don’t think I can eat anything else!” 

Nanami smiles, happy to hear this. ”I’m glad. I wanted tonight to be nice for you.” In the moonlight, his cheeks flush. “It was,” you murmur, shyly taking his hand in yours. “Thank you.” 

He intertwines his long fingers with yours…his long piano fingers that would look perfect around your neck or plunged in your wet cunt. “Well, I guess that this is goodnight. You can finally catch the rest that you need.” 

He’s going? Now? You feel disappointment bloom inside of you. You know it’s stupid since the date is over, but you don’t want him to go. Not yet, anyway. “W-Well, I don’t have to go to sleep just yet,” you shyly protest. “It’s only 9 PM. If you want, you can come in to watch a movie…or cuddle…or…” You trail off, your mind taking you to some naughty places that involve Nanami mounting you. 

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow down at you. “Or?” he teasingly pushes. “You want me to beat you in Super Mario Kart again?” You gasp, playfully hitting him. “Kento!” you whine. “Don’t be mean! You only won because my controller’s batteries were losing juice!” 

He laughs, the sound pleasant and arousing. “Whatever you say, darling,” he chuckles. “I’d love to go back with you, i-if that’s what you want too.” Once again, he blushes, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. The air is suddenly thick with a tension that is almost unbearable. “Alright then,” you murmur. 

Nanami comes back to your place and at first, you’re glad that he does because you love having him here. After changing into your sweats and a T-shirt, you snuggle up with him on the couch to watch a movie. You decide on “Howl’s Moving Castle” since you’re a fan of Studio Ghibli and Nanami has never seen it before. 

You opt to be the little spoon tonight while your boyfriend is the big spoon, his front pressed against your back. He has stripped off his jacket and button-up top for his tank top underneath that you can feel his muscles poking through, making you want to run your hands all over him. 

But you keep them squeezed between your thighs where you can feel the throb of your pussy in your sweats. You thought that wearing pants would help, but it hasn’t. Not when your sexy boyfriend has his big arms wrapped tight around you and the smell of his cologne is in your nose. “Are you okay?” He whispers in the dimly lit living area. “Am I hugging you too tight?”You shake your head, struggling to pay attention to the movie. “N-No,” you stammer. “It’s fine.”

But it’s not fine. With every passing minute, your pussy gets wetter and more insistent on getting the pleasure it needs. Your little cotton tail is being stimulated every time Nanami shifts his body, pressing up against it. It feels so good that you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning out. 

Oh, how you need him! How you want to turn your head and kiss him, letting him swirl his tongue with yours. How you wish to turn off the movie and instead watch his handsome face contort in pleasure as he sinks his cock into your mouth or in your pussy. 

You could do it right now. You could turn over, wrap your legs around his waist, and pull him on top of you to kiss you down. He could pin you down to your couch and pound your pussy right now, giving you exactly what you need. You can almost feel him now, gripping your throat as his cock stretches you out and strokes your walls, bringing you closer and closer to that edge with him until you’re– 

“Uh, Y/N?” Nanami asks. “What are you doing?” 

“Huh?” You ask, looking back at him. Even in the dark, you can tell that he’s blushing. “Y-You’re rubbing yourself against me,” he stammers. “Your tail…a-and ass…are against my—“ 

“Oh, no!” You lament, immediately squirming out of his arms. “Dammit, no, no! I’m so sorry!” Embarrassed and humiliated, you get up from the couch, alarming him. “Hey, wait a minute!” he protests, confused. “Where are you going?” 

Quickly, you duck and hide behind the couch, not wanting to leave but also not wanting him to see you. You hide behind your ears, tears pricking your eyes. With the movie now on mute, Nanami finds you behind the couch and kneels down to comfort you. “Y/N?” he carefully asks. “What’s going on? Talk to me, lovely.” 

He gently peels back your ears and your hands from your face. His face is etched in concern. “Did I do something wrong?” You shake your head, admitting defeat. Now you have to tell him. “No,” you sigh. “It’s all me. The truth is…I’m in heat.” 

You watch Nanami blink at you, perplexed. “You’re…in heat?” he carefully repeats. “I don’t think I understand.” 

You sigh once again, not wanting to explain this because it’s so embarrassing. But you have to. “Well…it’s when girls like me go through cycles where we’re ready to mate. We get very, um…aroused.” You flush at the word choice. “Unfortunately, the warm weather makes it worse since spring is considered ‘mating season’ for certain mammals.”

He nods, his gaze intent and way too deep. “Mating,” he says, trying the words out on his lips. “So if I’m understanding this correctly, you through periods where you need to fuck.” 

Your eyes widen and your heart leaps at the vulgar word coming from his lips. “Um…well, yeah, if you wanna be blunt about it. We basically have sexual needs that need to be met.” 

“And what if they aren’t?” Nanami asks. 

“Our arousal gets worse,” you solemnly sigh. “It ain’t pretty.” Nanami’s expression darkens. “What happens?” he asks, worried. And so you tell him. You tell him about how one can become so horny that it hurts, the pain stretching on for months if not taken care of properly. 

By the time you finish, your boyfriend stares at you in horror. “How long have you been feeling like this?” he asks. You stare down at your hands, biting your lip. “About a week,” you admit. 

Nanami makes a noise between a groan and a sigh. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me this?” He cooingly asks. “I would’ve helped you with this a long time ago.” He tilts your chin up, his touch like a prayer to you. He honestly looks and sounds upset from the fact that you neglected to tell him this. 

“W-Well, you were so busy with work and I didn’t wanna bug you about it. I’ve been taking care of myself, but it doesn’t seem to work much, especially when I’m around you.” He steals the rest of your air when his hand moves up to caress your cheek, his calloused palm warm. 

“When you’re around me, hm?” he ponders aloud, his voice low and sweet. “How do you get when you’re around me?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, your ears and tail frazzled from his touch. ”Like…this,” you breathlessly reply. 

Nanami gently squeezes your cheeks, making your lips like a fish’s. “You mean like a needy little slut?” he asks, the vulgar words like sugar on his lips in his low, sweet tone. “Well, why don’t I help you with that? After all, it’s my fault you’re so horny.” 

“I-It’s not!” you protest. “It’s just my heat. Anyway, it’ll be done by the end of the week! I-I don’t need you to—“ 

“Shhh,” he gently shushes you, pressing a finger to your lush lips. “Don’t protest. Don’t argue. Don’t push me away. Just let me take good care of my bunny, okay?” His gorgeous hazel eyes, filled with promises of safety and acceptance, peer into yours. 

And with his thumb stroking your bottom lip, how can you deny him? “Okay,” you find yourself saying. He smiles, pleased. “Good girl,” he praises. “First off, these lips definitely need to be kissed.” 

His lips swoop down to capture yours in a soft, loving kiss that quickly grows sloppy and passionate the more you kiss. Nanami lets out a soft, eager moan as he scoops you up in his arms, laughing softly when you squeak as your feet dangle off the ground. While still kissing you, he brings you over to the couch and sits you down in his lap. His soft lips and tongue make you squirm in his lap, brushing yourself against his quickly hardening cock in his slacks.

“Can I play with your ears, darling?” he whispers, breathless from the constant kissing. “Your tail too? You still love being touched in those places, don’t you?” Gently, his hand moves down to your ass, caressing your cotton tail. Your toes curl in your shoes, your body tingly from the stimulation. “Y-Yes,” you breathlessly reply. “Go ahead.” 

You know that Nanami will be gentle like he always is, so you aren’t hesitant or apprehensive. When his fingers lightly begin to brush and stroke your bunny ear from base to tip, you damn near have an all-body orgasm. When he does the same to your tail, you feel your pussy grow wetter and it throbs more. “Oh!” You gasp. “Yes, like that!” 

Nanami smirks as he watches your face contort in pleasure as he strokes the most sensitive parts of your body other than your nipples and clit. “Like that?” He teasingly asks. “That feels good?” His cock throbs at the sound of your pitiful whimper in response. 

“What about this?” he asks. Gently, one of his big hands slides down between your thighs to pet your pussy through your panties while he continues to stroke your ears with the other. Your mouth falls agape, pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, tilting your head back as his fingers ghost over your pussy. 

You begin to shamelessly grind your pussy into his fingers, turning Nanami one even more. “I’ve never seen you like this before,” he chuckles. “So responsive and needy. It’s so adorable.” 

You flush embarrassingly at your slutty behavior because yes, he’s right. You’ve never been this slutty with him before. “I’m sorry.” The blonde looks at you like you’re crazy. “What are you sorry about?” He scoffs. “I’m your man, darling. I want you to be like this for me and only me.” 

Under his firm gaze and insistent fingers, you nearly come apart at the seams. He then gently moves you off of him and his hard bulge, fixing you with a hot stare. “Now bend that pretty ass over me,” he demands. 

Smiling excitedly, you do as he says and bend over the couch, presenting your plump, soft ass to him. You bite your lip as his hand sneak up your thighs to hike your dress up over your hips, exposing your thong which is damn near soaked now. “Now, baby,” he tuts, “were you walking around with this under your dress the whole time at dinner?” 

His fingers slide down to gently pry open your asscheeks, emitting a pleasurable hum from you. “Such a little slut my baby has become tonight, wearing thongs and getting wet from a mere spanking.” 

“A spanking?” You parrot, confused. “What are you—“ 

Spank! You gasp at the sharp sting of his rough hand coming down on one asscheek, the jolt of slight pain sending your pussy into a frenzy. “You want another?” He hums. You let out a whimper, your tongue twisted from the surprise spank. “I’m sorry, what?” He asks, his tone soft yet firm. 

His fingers loop through your thong straps and gently pull at them, causing the thong to sink deeper into your ass and your slit. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. “Please spank me again!” Nanami smiles, gently stroking the asscheek he hit. “That’s my girl. Let me know if it’s too much.” 

He continues to give your ass as many spanks as you want, watching the way your soft, jiggly asscheeks recoil against his hand. You moan and sob in pleasure at the burning sensation, becoming a little pain slut for him right before his eyes. Finally unable to take it anymore, Nanami stops and gets on his knees behind you. 

“Now it’s too much for me,” he growls. “Don’t move, bunny. I’m gonna eat your pussy now until you cum, okay? I want you to do whatever feels good to you. That’s your order.” You nod, gripping the couch to prepare yourself for the tongue-fucking you know you’re about to receive. 

But even as you do prepare yourself, it doesn’t do much because you’re a writhing, whimpering, moaning mess for your boyfriend as he pulls your tongue aside and  his tongue licks your folds and his lips suck on your clit, alternating between the two as much as he likes. “Ah, Ken, yes!” You cry out. “Oh, fuck yes, right there! Do it right there!” 

You are loud and vocal, much to Nanami’s enjoyment. He’s having the time of his life back here, massaging your ass and sucking on your wet pussy, your juices dripping down his chin. He even whimpers and moans into your pussy about how good you taste, only making you wetter at seeing this stoic man lose his shit over you. 

“You want a finger, bunny?” He asks, his voice slightly muffled from his face in your ass. “Talk to me. Tell Daddy what you want from him.” You struggle to do it, but manage to gather enough willpower to look at him over your shoulder. “Please,” you whimper. “Fuck me, Daddy. Make me cum.” 

Nanami smiles and so does his cock, trying hard to surge out of his pants. Slowly, he inserts one of his long fingers inside of your hole while his lips gently suck on your clit. When his finger aims up to rub against the underside of your clit, you nearly scream, bawling at the pleasure. 

“Oh, my God!” You sob. “Shit, Ken, baby, I’m gonna…I-I’m gonna…” You don’t get a chance to finish because your orgasm slams into you, drawing a string of slutty moans out of you as you cream all over Nanami’s tongue. He takes it willingly and joyfully, slurping up all that you give him. “That’s my good bunny,” he moans into your pussy. “So fuckin’ good for me.” 

Your orgasm is so strong and intense that you begin to tremble, the aftershocks taking control of your body. It’s an orgasm that you haven’t been able to give yourself due to your heat’s needs. You smile deliriously as it begins to fade, leaving you satisfied but feral for the man still cleaning you up behind you. 

Finally, Nanami pulls away as you turn to face him, naked from the waist down. ”Tired?” He questions, his eyes twinkling and lips wet from you. You touch his face, needing to feel him. “For you, no,” you purr. “I need to make you feel good too. But you’re wearing too much.” 

Nanami’s eyes flash with a fire that only you can put out. Together, with you standing on your knees on the couch and him standing before you, you strip off all of his clothes until he is butt naked in your living room. His impressive, toned body and pretty, hard cock are all on full display for you. Your mouth waters to taste him, especially his big, hairy pecs and gorgeous dick swinging between his thick thighs. 

Nanami smirks at your wide-eyed, awed expression at the sight of him. “Like what you see?” He chuckles. Wordlessly, you nod, excitedly staring at all of him. You still can’t believe that he’s really yours. You spit a copious amount of spit into your hand before you begin stroking your man’s cock, starting from the thick base and up to the pink head dripping with pre-cum. You give him a little kitten lit, emitting a soft moan from him. 

You drop your hand to massage his balls instead, giving them some love too. He holds his gaze with yours, wrapping a hand around his cock. “Tell me what you want.” With your ears now frazzled and your pussy leaking again, you crawl closer to him and grab his hips. “Just stand there and fuck my face. I want you to use my throat like a toy.” 

Nanami’s brows raise an inch. “You want it rough?” He asks, sounding surprised. You nod, needing it more than anything. “Well, if it’s what you want, darling…just tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop.” 

And then his cock is sliding in your mouth until you can feel it nearly hit the back of your throat. “Fuck,” Nanami groans, watching his dick disappear down your throat. “You’re so good to me, bunny. You always take me so well.” 

Feeling elevated by the praise, you open your throat, hollow your cheeks, and begin to bob your head up and down, back and forth, taking your boyfriend’s cock deep down your throat. You swallow it whole, slurping and sucking on it like a big, juicy lollipop, spit beginning to drip from Nanami’s balls. 

Nanami can’t take it anymore. He begins to fuck your pretty face in tandem with your head bobbing, making you swallow more of his length down your sloppy, greedy throat. “Yes, that’s it, my little bunny,” he moans, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. “Take my cock just like that. Take it all.” 

He begins to stroke your ears as you blow him, getting your pussy nice, tingly, and throbbing again. You’re so horny that you begin to play with your pussy as he moans and groans, even whimpers, at how pretty you look with his cock in your mouth. 

Finally, Nanami slides out of your mouth with a soft swear and you take a breath. Your lips, coated in spit and pre-cum, are wiped clean of your lipgloss, your mascara is running, and your throat is slightly raw from the constant fucking Nanami gave you. He takes hold of your chin, staring into your eyes. “Do you want more?” he asks. 

Slowly, you nod, tears pricking your eyes because of how much you need this. “Yes, Nanami,” you plea, your arousal making you bold and unashamed in your need to be fucked. “Please give it to me. I don’t care how you take me. Just fuck me!” 

That’s all Nanami needs to hear. He gives you exactly what you want and more. The man fucks you and he fucks you good. He gives your body everything that it needs to knock those horny little thoughts out of your head and relieve you of your heat. 

And in every position, you cum. 

He fucks you in missionary, his hips pistoling into yours while your feet dangle in the air, his hands pinning your thighs apart and making you take each deep, long, slow stroke that has you seeing stars and frantically rubbing your clit watching his big pecs jiggle and his handsome face contort in pleasure. 

He fucks you standing up, your little body bouncing in his arms as you fucks you up and down on his cock, your arms wrapped tight around his neck, your tits pressed flush against his pecs, and your lips locked with his in a passionate, sloppy, wet kiss. 

He fucks you on your side, his big body curled around yours and his cock nestled between your asscheeks before sliding inside you again, your leg hooked up to get deeper. 

He pulls his cock out of you and sixty-nines with you, his cock fucking your throat instead while he tongue fucks your pussy, whimpering pathetically into your cunt while his toes curl at how good and tight your throat is, calling you his “sexy little bunny” and “good little cockslut” in his deep, velvety voice. 

He fucks your soft thighs. He fucks your perfect, jiggling tits while you lay on your back and squeeze them together. He fucks your asscheeks while you lay on your stomach, grinding his cock between your cheeks as he massages them. 

He fucks you on all fours, using your ears to pull you back onto his cock, your back arched and ass stinging from random spanks while he pounds into the deep, wet heat of your pussy that squeezes and grips him for dear life. When you try to rub your clit, he smacks it away and rubs your pussy for you.

“Uh-uh,” he huffs. “No touching what’s mine. All you need to do is cum. Can my little bunny do that?” 

You don’t even answer. You can’t. But your loud moans and sobs bouncing off of your walls are all the answers Nanami needs as he fucks you faster, harder, making your clit sing and pleasure zip through you. When you feel your last orgasm of the night zip through you, you let out a broken whimper and cream all over Nanami’s cock, your orgasm exploding out of you. 

Triggered by your orgasm and sweet little sounds, Nanami grips you to him and pounds into you without abandon until he finally explodes too. “Oh, fuck!” he gasps, his loud moans and grunts echoing throughout the empty living room, triggering another min-orgasm that makes your pussy quiver and drip down your thighs. 

Nanami cums deep inside of you, filling you to the brim with his nut. He even has enough to give you on your ass, pulling out to spray your perfect cheeks with more of his seed, pumping his cock furiously behind you. A smile stretches across your face as the aftershocks begin, making you lose balance and collapse onto the couch. 

You are sweaty, winded, soaked, tired, and covered in cum. But you’ve never been more satisfied or happier in your life. Nanami finally settles down beside you, turning you over to face him. He gives you a smile, his face flushed and blonde hair slightly damp with sweat. 

“Better now?” he murmurs, gently stroking down your back. You wordlessly nod, a small, tired mewl leaving your lips. 

“I’m glad,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hand. “Get lots of rest now, darling, because we’ll be going for round two soon.”

And just like that, your body tingles and your pussy throbs like you weren't just turned out on your couch by your man already.

THE END.

[xoxochb]

i begggggggg u to do a percy x socially awk reader where percy realises she has like 3 default emotes like “real” “what the flip 😨😨” “🤷‍♀️” or smth and like teases her abt it 🙏🙏🙏

— that one convo

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x socially awkward! reader a/n: “wow this fic is very detailed with strong loathing for social interactions” yeah it’s because I’m projecting 🥰

social events were the bane of your existence, the reason you woke up every morning and wish you could die. unfortunately when you’re a demigod they’re hard to ignore, camper there, camper here, now you have camp chores… the list goes on. It wasn’t only that you loathed social interactions— you were painfully awkward. stepping outside was practical social suicide for you. which is why you kept to yourself and sat at cabin three table with the only boy you would tolerate speaking to

you take a handful of his assorted berries into your hands and onto your plate, eating them one by one

“so what’re you up to today?” asks percy

you stop and think. you hadn’t planned your day out that far yet. “I’m not sure. maybe I’ll paint or read or sleep. I don’t know”

“that sounds great! I’m free today too, maybe I could come with you?”

“uhhh… yeah” you shrug “but I don’t want you interrupting my reading. can you stay quiet?”

“just for you” percy winks, maybe you scrunch your nose in disgust and return your focus to your breakfast. that’s when your worst fear happens. a camper walks to the table— presumably from cabin seven because her hair flies in rays of sunshine. you stiffen and avoid eye contact

“there’s a party in hermes cabin later, you coming?”

“I’ll be there! do you wanna come to, (name)?”

you swallow hard and nod. but no you do not want to go. parties were the home place of social situations and people. tons. of. people.

“okay, great! I’ll see you two tonight then” the girl smiles and leaves the table (your prayers had been answered! tyche would be getting extra offerings this morning for sure)

percy furrows his brows and turns fully to you. “what was that?”

now you avoid eye contact with him also. “what was what?”

“well, I mean you were talking to me fine and then that girl came over here and you forgot how!”

“I don’t like that girl” you lie

“you’ve never met her in your life and I know it because you only ever talk to me”

you frown. “I don’t like talking to anyone else…”

“I figured”

you give him a look of disapproval and hit him upside the head. “don’t be a smart-ass”

“you know what?” he says, ignoring your comment and action

the look on your face is bored. you know what he’s about to say. yet you sigh and reply, “what?”

“I’m glad you only talk to me. makes me feel special”

you close your eyes and shake your head slowly. percy laughs and plants a kiss to your cheek happily. when you open your eyes back up you see him staring at you creepily lovingly

“I really like you (nickname)”

mood: ruined. you groan and stand up. “you’re such a fucking weirdo, get away from me”

you hear percy shout behind you, “hey, you should’ve said that to that girl!”

[scarletttries]

How The Straw Hats Keep You Company on the Night Shift... (One Piece Live Action Request)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader

Author's Note: I am well and truly in my One Piece obsession here so keep the requests coming! 🥰

Monkey D. Luffy

- While the rest of the crew moan and gripe when it's their turn to take the night shift, tasked with keeping the boat on course and an eye out for anything dangerous, you never seem to mind when your turn rolls around again. Instead of eight hours of monotonous boredom, your shift is always passed in the supervision of the ship's jovial captain, your sweet, loving Luffy.

- You always start by insisting he should get some sleep. Everyone has to take a watch on their own, you should too, right? But Monkey insists he'd be a terrible captain to leave you out on your own all night, the unspoken truth simmering just below the surface; he's forgotten how to fall asleep without his arms around you and can't bear waiting until morning to see you again.

- As you keep one hand on the ship's giant wooden wheel, Luffy captures the other, interlacing his fingers with yours as he moves behind you, the warmth emanating from his body keeping you safe and comfortable against the night air. His free hand wraps around your waist so he can pull your back flush against his chest, your needy boyfriend making the most of the private moment to express all his affection the way he knows best. Unwilling to let go of you for even a second, his nose nuzzles against your neck, shifting your hair to the side so he can pepper the exposed skin with gentle kisses, feeling you wriggle against him at the sensation and only spurring him on more.

- In a fit of giggles you momentarily release the wheel to capture his face with the hand he hasn't claimed yet, giving him the chance to spin you around to face him, drinking in the sight of your beauty lit only by the stars and the brightly shining moon.

"You know, you're somehow extra pretty up close." He whispers the words less than an inch from your lips, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath before the intensity in his eyes shifts and his lips crash down against yours. He has to pull away every few seconds just to let the smile you bring out of him blossom on his face before diving straight back in for the most addictive thing he's ever tasted.

- Every time you turn ever so slightly to get a hand back on the wheel, he only clings more, pressing closer to you, or grabbing the wheel himself so both your arms can be wrapped around him where they belong. You continue this carefully choreographed dance half the night, the two of you giggling as you twirl around each other and keep the ship on its course, completely intertwined until finally an exhausted Luffy starts to drift off, slumped against your back, clutching you like the life preserver you are in the vast ocean of his affections.

Zoro

- It doesn't matter how long the two of you have been dating, or whatever you want to call the arrangement you and Zoro seem to have so effortlessly fallen into, Zoro will deny he's there to keep you company: He's just happens to be sharpening his swords at that hour, and it's too cramped to do it in his room. He couldn't sleep. He thought he heard something and he wants to make sure it's gone. Every week the excuses get thinner, but you still humour him for the sake of his good company.

- He always starts sitting on the other side of the deck. He likes to think he's completely in control of his emotions, and playing it very cool, despite his obvious inability to resist the magnetic effect you seem to have on him. As the moon charts its own path through the sky he inches closer and closer, responding to your nonchalant observations like it's a weighty task. Finally, about half way through your watch, he's sat with his back to the ship's wheel, leaning gently against your leg where you stand, still not acknowledging his actions, even as you let one hand drop by your waist and he reaches up instantly to hold it.

- He'll trace his thumb slowly over the back of your hand, taking his time before finally he looks up at you, seeming so much smaller than he does when he's charging into battle weidling his collection of swords. He'll bring your palm to his lips and then give you a gentle tug, pleading silently for you to sit with him for a moment, to escape everything else and just be two people in love without any of their history behind them.

- And so you do, sinking to the floor until your thigh presses against his, Zoro still clinging to your hand like a lost child in the vast night, but finding endless comfort in your presence. In the quietest moments like this he can finally be vulnerable, whispering his softer thoughts as you run your fingers through his hair, offering the warm embrace he's been searching his whole life without ever realising it was missing.

- When the first rays of morning light start to dance on the ocean's surface, he'll plant a soft kiss on your forehead and then slink back to his hammock, ready to pretend he didn't spend all night falling deeper and deeper in love.

Sanji

- Sanji actively looks forward to the nights you have command of the ship, so he can finally have you all to himself and not have to worry about Luffy barging in on the two of you like he manages to every time Sanji gets his hands on you in the kitchen.

- Of course this man prepares a picnic for you, all your favourite cakes and pastries, lovingly made by his own adoring hands and tasting all the better for the amount of infatuation baked into them. He'll get to the deck an hour before you do, laying out a sea of blankets and cushions for the two of you to lounge on as you pass the night in each other's sweet company.

- Sanji is nothing if not open with his undying love for you, and it's more than a little fun to see just how dramatically this man will fawn over you. The way he gawps open-mouthed as you lick sweet frosting off the tip of a teaspoon while staring deeply into his eyes, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulps in anticipation, every ounce of self control holding his hands neatly by his side. Every happy hum and complement to his cooking only makes his heartbeat faster, the arm supporting his lounging frame scooting closer to you until he can almost rest his head on your shoulder.

- If there's one thing Sanji loves more than cooking for you, it's literally feeding you. He'll slowly raise a chocolate-covered strawberry to your lips, eyes growing wide as your lips graze his thumb when you take a bite, yours fluttering shut as you hum in appreciation. In an instant the rest of the berry is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder as he lunges towards you, bright smile across his face as he pushes you onto your back, his legs quickly straddling your hips to keep you pinned under him. He's practically trembling with excitement as his hands grab onto your waist, then run up your side until finally they capture your face, his lips crashing down on yours until he can taste your sweet kiss, mixed with chocolate and strawberry of course. Your back arches up to press against him, practically feeling his heart swelling in his chest as he squeezes you tighter, not sure he's ever going to be able let you go if you keep treating him quite so kindly.

- Every so often you have to pry him off of you to actually keep a little bit of a watch, but it doesn't take long until Sanji is scooping you up in his arms against, spinning you in circles, or pressing your back against the nearest surface until your legs wrap around his waist and your hands bury themselves in his blonde locks, surrendering yourself to his insatiable need for you. The morning can't come soon enough so Sanji can finally drag you back to his room and do exactly what you've had him dreaming of all night.

Nami

- The sneakiest cat burglar in the business, Nami takes pleasure in making you jump when she appears behind you an hour into your night shift. No matter how often she comes to join you, you never hear her coming, the rush of your nervous heartbeat not slowing when she gives you that wicked grin.

"Did you miss me already?"

- Nami doesn't have the patience for watching the horizon with you, after spending most of her day manning the wheel as well, so she quickly finds other ways to entertain herself. She'll start by placing a constellation of glistening wet kisses along your shoulder, nipping and sucking more intently as she reaches your neck, waiting until your eyes flutter closed and a small sigh escapes your lips to pull away.

"Eyes open pirate, you don't want to steer us off course." Her smirk spells trouble and you can only gulp as she starts toying with the hem of your skirt, stepping in front of you before sinking slowly to her knees. She never breaks eye contact as she nuzzles her nose against the inside of your thigh, devilish grin spreading across her cheeks. "You better concentrate. If you get us lost our navigator will probably have to punish you."

- Her lips replace her nose as she starts licking and kissing higher up your thighs, watching your chest rise and fall and your breathing gets more laboured. Concentrating on anything other than the featherlight touch of her fingers climbing the soft flesh of your inner thigh becomes almost impossible, and as they reach the edge of panties you have to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan you're sure would wake the rest of the crew.

"Let's see how much fun I can have before the sun comes up." She purrs as her fingers brush over the thin fabric she's sure will be soaked through and thrown overboard in no time.

Usopp

- This sweetheart is more than happy to spend a night in your company, feeling a little bit jealous whenever he has to share you with the rest of the crew, preferring to be the centre of your undivided attention.

- Usopp will start by putting on a one man show of some of 'his' greatest adventures, and acting out every single role in each of the tales. Every so often he'll start clamouring about the action of his great battles, and you'll have to interrupt him with a kiss just to make him stop talking, so you can remind him to keep his voice down so the rest of the crew can sleep. He'll quickly get distracted by the sweet, soft touch of your kiss, chasing that high again and again until he can't remember which story he was telling and he has to start over from the beginning.

- The minute he sees you fighting a yawn though, suddenly his action packed tale becomes much more soothing. He tells you gentle stories of a peaceful village life, the kind of life he hopes to have with you one day, when you've had all your adventures but you still can't bear to be apart from eachother. He stands facing you, running his fingers through your hair, drawing soft circles on your back, his voice gently drifting on the wind like a lullaby. He guides your head to land safely on his shoulder and holds your weight against his chest, until your eyes flutter shut and he can hear your breathing grow slow and shallow.

- With one hand holding you, the other will take the wheel, scanning the horizon with his whole world right in front of him. He always worries about you not getting enough rest, so he'll happily take your watch every chance he gets if it means he gets to feel you wrap your arms around him and melt against his chest, feeling safe in the company of your brave captain Usopp.

[concretecultist]

Muscle Memory

summary: “Falling out of love is the saddest thing two people can do to one another. It just means that they have grown too comfortable enough to not make an effort to try,”

pairing: introvert!reader x noah sebastian

warnings: angst, lots of crying, heartbreak

word count: ~5k

lightly inspired by ‘The Greatest’ by Billie Eilish

THIS IS ALL PURE FICTION!

A/N: i don’t know if i want to make this into a part two or leave it open ended! let me know what you think and please be sure to comment and reblog if you enjoyed 🥰

~Berry🫐

——

Things just aren’t what they used to be.

Falling in love was scary enough but knowing the one you love is falling out of love with you is even scarier.

It started with the missed date nights.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I got stuck at the studio with Jolly,”

Then it was the barely there kisses. Each night before bed, you’d give each other three kisses, one for each word in the phrase ‘I love you’

But now you’re lucky if you even get one.

The sex that was once passionate isn’t even there. He’d come home from tour and there was no sexual tension, you’d tease him and he’d brush you off.

You’d cook dinner for the two of you but he’d come home with take out and the guys following in tow without letting you know beforehand, luckily, Folio and Jolly had an appetite so your food never went to waste.

But tonight, tonight was the final straw.

“I love you,” you said to him as you set his plate in front of him. It took him a few seconds, as if he was finding the courage to say the words that at one point, slipped out to easily.

“Love you too,”

And that’s when you knew. You knew that once the ‘I’ was no longer there, it was done. After four years, the love that burned bright, completely untamable, has been reduced to embers and there was no saving it. There was no lighter fluid, no extra wood and no match to bring that fire back to life.

It was gone.

“It’s all just muscle memory at this point… isn’t it?,”

Noah finished chewing before frowning at you.

“What?,”

You could tell he knew what you were referring to but he loved to play clueless. Now is not the time for that though.

“Just… saying ‘love you’? You fell out of love a long time ago but stayed to soften the blow,” you whisper as you pick at your food.

Noah ran a hand over his face and sighed, “Y/N, no. That’s not-,”

“You can be honest with me. I’ll be a little hurt but I already know,” you smile sadly as you glance at him, “I already know,”

“I tried to make it work,” he says lowly, saying the words as if his teeth are barbed wire, as if it’s hurting him to say this, “I still am,”

“When was the last time you touched me?,” you couldn’t even look at him when you asked that question, “All the times I waited for you to want me naked and you just… looked at me as if there was nothing enticing about me,”

“That’s not how it was, at all and you know that, with tour and everything my mind has been all over the place,”

“You still could’ve given me some form of passion, Noah! Not just sex! Flowers, a fucking chocolate bar because it’s my favorite and you passed by it in the store. Something, something to make me believe you actually cared!,”

“I do!,”

“I can’t tell!,” you had to keep yourself from raising your voice, “I just wanted what I gave you. I waited and I waited and I waited. I thought that maybe it was the burnout, that you being home and resting would fix it but it’s been like this for MONTHS and I’m tired of feeling you pulling away so please, just rip off the fucking bandaid already,”

“Y/N please don’t do this. Not now. I said I was trying,” even now, his voice is void of any emotion. How do you claim to try but it can’t even be heard. Why doesn’t he care enough to fight for you harder right now.

Right now he’s throwing weak punches as his defense, he’s barely trying. It’s over.

“I know I probably won’t ever be the one for you,” you tightened your lips, trying to keep yourself from spilling the words but you need to say it, “But you were it for me and I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again,”

The words rush out like projectile vomit, you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were begging but you figured if this is it, then to get it all out, right?

“Life will never be the same. I won’t be able to listen to certain songs, eat certain foods, watch shows, visit certain cities because they’ll all remind me of you and it’s going to kill me,” you twirl your fork in the mess of noodles on your plate, finding it more intriguing than this conversation, “I was so… desperate to make it better. To be better so that you would still love me but nothing was ever good enough. You may have thought that you were good at hiding it but… I could feel you slipping away from me and it’s crushing me,”

“Baby, please don’t do this,”

“Don’t call me that”

He had some nerve. For months it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that’ but now he wants to pull the “Baby” card? He’s just driving the sword deeper into your chest and he can’t feel remorse. He can’t shed a tear because he’s the cause of all the blood. You sit before him, chest open as you give him your last breath. You deserved to say your piece before he does his finishing move.

“I’m sorry,” he swallowed thickly, following suit in picking at the food on his plate. He never wanted it to come to this. He always thought you were the one but with the rising fame, he was finding it hard to juggle. He started paying more attention to the band than feeding the energy into your relationship. He stopped trying and that’s what started all of this.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. These things happen,” you sniffle and wipe your cheeks, forking some of your dinner in your mouth to hopefully subdue the churning you feel in your gut, but all it did was make you want to regurgitate it all, “I can be out by the end of the week,”

“You don’t have to do that,” he scoffed as if what you were saying was absurd. Did he really expect you to stick around?

“You don’t understand,” you tilt your head, finally looking at him. Eyes skimming over every feature of his, that way you’d never forget it, “You could offer me this place and I still wouldn’t take it. There’s too many memories. It would just eat at me,”

Maybe you’d live out in the woods. Away from society. You didn’t like the outside world much anyway. And with you losing Noah, there was no point. Solitude was your safety blanket, always forced to find solace in your own company, it’s been a long time since it’s come to that, but, right now you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you happy,”

“Y/N, please,” Noah sighs, “It’s not like that at all,”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,” your throat clenches around the words, “Look me in my eyes and tell me that I still make you as happy as the day you met me! That I’m not utterly alone in this world. That it doesn’t feel like an elephant is on your shoulders when you come home all because you don’t have the balls to tell me there’s nothing here anymore,”

“Oh c’mon!! You’re blowing this out of proportion! This can work just give me time,”

“Say it, Noah” fists banging on the table causing the silverware to clank loudly against the glass plates, “Do you or do you not love me? It’s simple!,”

You watched the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened.

He couldn’t even say it.

“You don’t love me anymore and you can’t even be a man and say it?!,”

“What good is it gonna do, Y/N?!,” he shouted over you. Frustration filling his eyes as he sends you a look of annoyance.

There it goes.

The confirmation without it being explicit.

This wasn’t your Noah anymore.

“I hate to see the fact that you’re hurting right now, why would I make it worse?! You think I want to be having this conversation? You think I want to see you shattering all while trying to keep it together? I never wanted to hurt you,”

“I just need to hear you say it so I can go about my life,” you whimper, you know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to hear it, “I need to hear it so I can cut the cord, Noah,”

The silence from him is heavy. This is the least he could do. If he couldn’t love you the way you needed then so be it, but he could at least do this last thing for you.

“If you ever cared about me then you owe me this much. If this is it then you need to fucking say it so that I can start healing! This is on you! Fucking say i-,”

“I love you but not like I used to,” he cuts you off, words rushing out as if they burned his tongue to speak, wearing a look of shame in his face, shaking his head and for a second.. he kind of looks heartbroken.

“I thought I could get around it, thought that if I just gave myself time that I could regenerate the love I felt, but I don’t know how. I started to feel less guilt when I missed date nights, I stayed late at the studio so that I wouldn’t have to see the sad, longing look in your eyes. I’m not who I was when I got into this. I don’t know who I am and I need time to figure it out,”

The air is stripped from your lungs and while you were begging him to say it, it didn’t burn any less. It felt like you were on display for him, bare and vulnerable and he just kept taking a hot fire poker, marking you, tainting you for anyone else.

“Th-thank you,” you nod, eyes filling with tears, his face becoming distorted, “Thank you, Noah, for your candor,”

“Y/N,”

“Can we just eat in peace?,” you cleared your throat, smiling so sadly, you’ve never been so dejected. You were embarrassed by the tears on your face as you sipped your water.

“I just want to end this night on a good note. So let’s just eat quietly. I’ll do the dishes and go to bed,”

All he could do was nod. Your requests for him were always simple and even with your heart breaking because of him, you wanted one last meal with him, one last peaceful souvenir.

Your dinner was finished in silence and you followed through with what you said. You did the dishes, you cleaned up, but, before you went to bed, you roamed the house for a bit, wanting to take it all in before this place became only a memory.

The living room, where you two had your first kiss. The lamp with the broken lampshade that you two never replaced because it added “character”, you two broke it while watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video, trying to learn the dance.

The coffee table that you two fought over the instructions about (you were the one reading them correctly), there’s pictures of you two on the walls but you had to do yourself and him a favor by just taking them down and trashing them.

Which leads you to the kitchen… where he taught you his secret method to dicing potatoes. The place where you two held a cooking contest, with your friends as the audience after watching a few episodes of ‘Beat Bobby Flay’, this was the place where you two sat and got two spoons to eat out of a singular tub of ice cream when you guys couldn’t sleep.

Then the dining room… my God. All the holidays in there, familial dishes displayed on the table as you two hosted parties with your friends. All the laughs, all the card games and fights over if you could put a draw 2 over a draw 4 in UNO (Nicholas says you can’t but… you say otherwise)

Then the bathrooms… you helped him paint them all, running around the house screaming after you flicked paint, getting it in his hair and he sprinted after you trying to get you back. All the decorative seasonal hand towels you gawked over in Home Goods that he only got because you laid it on thick with how “cuuuuuute they would compliment the seasonal shower curtain” that you also talked him into getting.

The porch, where you two would wake up before sunrise, he makes your tea, you make his coffee and swap cups when you two went to sit on the porch swing and just listen to the birds as they wake up. The porch that you two were so excited to decorate for Halloween and Christmas each year.

Then the backyard. Memories flash before your eyes of slip and slide you guys pulled out every summer. The barbecues you had every chance you got. Noah feeling like the cool dad on the grill and you were the sweet mom everyone loved and thanked while passing around your famous freshly squeezed lemonade with Davis always asking what your secret is and your reply always being ‘if I tell ya, I might have to kill ya’ but… now that things were ending… you suppose you could tell him that the secret is agave nectar, a pinch of salt and some sparkling water.

Then you have the basement where you’d have to pull him off the game when it got late but he talked you into playing a round, even though you weren’t the best.

Or the attic, where you guys stored things for the future… a future together that was no longer in the cards for you.

And finally the bedroom.

The first place he told you he loved you. The intimacy that happened here. The funny recollection of Noah bumping his head on the headboard in the middle of having sex and both of you had to take a break because you were laughing too hard. The movie marathons that happened in here. The competitions you two held at who could solve the murder mysteries first (he says you’re tied, but you know you’re winning by at least 3), all the late night talks, the cuddles, the stolen kisses, the tickles.

How?… how do you move on from that? How do you go about your life as if you didn’t devote yourself to this singular person for years? How do you go back to a life without him? And your friends are mutual friends so you know you’ll have to give them up.

Why does it have to be such a lonely road.

This is why falling in love is scary… you don’t get how people start over. It felt like your world was ending, things weren’t always like this. He’d surprised you with your favorite flowers, take you on trips, do karaoke. There was a time where he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Always walked down the baby aisles to look at the clothes, always texted and called when he was away. He brought you out of your shell but now, now you must retreat back in.

What could you have done? You weren’t going to beg him to love you but what was his final straw? As much as you hate this, you can’t hate him, you can’t blame him for falling out of love it happens to people all the time.

But yeah, the woods sound nice. You’ve always told yourself if love never worked out, it would be a secluded life. A garden to tend to, hunting, you wouldn’t have to bump into very many reminders as the reminders in your mind were enough. So, through the tears and aching chest, you get to packing and searching.

You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be okay. But outside of loving him, being alone was muscle memory…

You’ll make do.

———

*A Year Later*

A life in the woods wasn’t so bad. Your fruits, vegetables, and herbs were flourishing, your gourds were thriving. You had some chickens for eggs and for things you didn’t have, you always traveled on foot to the farmers market on the outskirts.

Life out here was simple but it was far from easy just yet.

Your last night at the house, Noah tried to talk it out once more but you’d told him the damage is done.

“Just give me time to get back to who I was,” he’d said.

But you didn’t have time. You didn’t need him to be who he once was because you know there are different versions someone grows to be, meaning you have to learn to love every new edition of them. You put in the effort to love every version of him but unfortunately, his idea of love just didn’t evolve with him, leaving you high and dry.

There were nights where you still called for him in the midst of your cries but then there were days where it was easier to swallow. You’d genuinely secluded yourself. No social media. You had cut off any communication with everyone, they didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and ghosting but they have to understand… you had no place in their circle anymore and it wouldn’t feel right.

If you stayed in contact with them you wouldn’t have healed, not even the slightest bit. You’d always want to ask about him, you would always hope that they would tell you that he misses you. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

There’s times where you still want to call him, see what he’s up to, but instead of sending messages or making the mistake of calling him. You write letters that will never be sent. Telling him of all that you’ve endured over the past year.

So you write and write and write as a form of closure to move on with your life.

It was a light morning. You woke up before sunrise as you always do, cup of earl grey in your hands as you sit in your rocking chair, taking in the view of the squirrels running, the birds chirping and the beetles flying by.

Things still weren’t easy but you were keeping your head above water.

A sweet noise pulls you from your thoughts and you set your mug down on the side table, it was practically empty at this point but you’d make a mental note to get it later.

You make your way through the quiet, cool cabin, hearing the noise louder. Your gown brushing against your calves with each step.

As you make your way into your room, a part of you still longs to see pictures of you and him hanging on the walls as if you were back at the house. Micro-dosing delusion here and there wasn’t too big of a deal. You were still healing after all.

Your body carries you closer to your bed and the white cradle that was attached.

Peaking your head over to see a pair of little hazel eyes looking up at you in adoration.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo softly, lifting her up and hearing her little grunts as she stretches, “Always an early bird just like your mama, huh?,”

You bounce her in your arms as you make your way to the kitchen to pull a brick of breast milk out of the freezer.

“I had my tea and you’ll have your morning beverage shortly,”

You don’t know why you talked to her as if she could understand you, but you enjoyed it. She was calm when you talked, so you figured she liked it.

You take your time to wrap her up into your chest so you could have her close with free arms as you craft her bottle.

“This would be a lot easier if I had help huh?,” you tighten the straps so she’s snug and secure while you’re both also comfortable, “But, It’s just you and me, Sunshine,”

Noelle was short of three months old so all she really did was shine her eyes at you and smile.

“But we’re gonna be okay!,” you cheer, testing her milk on your wrist, deeming it just the right temperature before taking her to the couch to feed her.

She had Noah’s nose, his eye shape, she even had his Cupid’s bow above her top lip, she had your cheeks, your hair and your frown of concentration. She was perfect and even if you were alone you were going to be the best damn parent you could be.

A part of you knows you should have told him when you found out but… you figured he’d be too busy to take care of a baby. He still had so much time on the road, he wouldn’t give that up.

So… it was just you and Noelle, you two against the world.

She babbles as you adjust your wrap to angle her properly to feed her.

“You are my sunshine,” you sing, smiling so proudly to yourself. You’d never expected to find yourself in this position but she was your reason to keep going. To not give up.

“And no one will take my sunshine away,”

After feeding her and cleaning up the cabin, you decided to head to the farmer’s market for some fresh meat and honey.

Noelle was in her stroller enjoying the smooth ride on the path. It was only a 10 minute walk and it was a great time to look at the pretty leaves and listen to what the wind has to say as it whisks past you.

When you hear all the laughing and chatter is when you know you’re close to the market. You’re a regular so although you’ve come to enjoy the lack of human interaction, you love seeing the smile on the faces of the vendors you shop with.

When you’re off the path, you see how packed it is and get overwhelmed.

“We got this, Sunshine,” you sigh to her, smiling and booping her nose, “Your mama did this to herself really, made herself damn near agoraphobic- oh shoot, shouldn’t cuss in front of you. Don’t store that in your subconscious anywhere!,”

All she could do was smile at you, not understanding a single word you said.

“Meat, oat milk, and fresh honey. That’s it! Should be easy right?,”

You stroll to the milk truck and wave at the elderly woman in the window,

“Hey there, Y/N!,”

“Hi, Ms. Ernie!,” smiling brightly. Ms. Ernie was a sweetheart and always special made oat milk for you. She doesn’t sell it much but she makes sure to keep it on hand just for you.

“How are you and your little Plum?,” she’s always called Noelle that, when you found out you were pregnant with her she was about the size of a plum, and when you met Ms. Ernie she could tell you had a lot on your mind, so, she sat and talked with you and gave you your first gallon of milk on the house, it was a nice glass bottle with her logo on it that you now use as a vase for flowers.

“Can’t complain! She’s growing up so fast!,”

“It’s my milks doing!,” she pointed and winked, “It’s making mama strong which is making her strong,”

“You got me there. I gotta admit it,” you joked with her. It was always like this. She was like a grandma to you and the conversations were always wholesome.

After purchasing your milk she throws in a small container.

“I’m making yogurt now! It’s got that oat milk ya like so let me know what ya think! And don’t be a stranger, come into town and have some dinner sometime,”

You verbalized how grateful you were for her kindness and took her up on her offer. It did get a little overwhelming trying to cook dinner and take care of an infant all on your own while also tending to a garden and a chicken coop.

You bid your goodbyes and make your way to the local honey tent.

“Hey, Y/N!,” a young man waved

“Hi, Reid!,”

“And hello little miss sunshine!,” he peaked his head around the stroller, as soon as your daughter sees him she squeals and kicks her feet, she loves Reid. He tickles her and chuckles before standing up and waving his hand to his table.

“What are we having today? We’ve got some new flavors; Orange Blossom, Blueberry Blossom, Lavender- we even got them in sticks so you can try before you buy,” he trails off.

“Can I get my normal wildflower aaaand I’ll try the orange blossom,” you point the sample sized container.

Reid bags everything up nicely for you and you watch him throw a few of the new flavor sticks in the bag before you pay.

“Enjoy, Y/N!,”

Once you give your goodbyes to Reid, you’re on your way to the next truck. Phyllis and her husband, Dan, greet you just as they always do and you order your meats and cuts the way you like them and are all set to head back home. You’re almost to the path when you realize there’s one more thing you needed.

“Shoot, Sunshine. I need bread!,” You turn yourself around to see where the bread truck is and bump into an unsuspecting soul. Neither of you paying attention.

“Oh goodness! I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, helping him pick up his bag of goods.

“Y/N?,”

You stop what you’re doing. You recognize that voice anywhere. After years of being near it and talking with him, it was unmistakable. You slowly raise your head to make eye contact with him.

“M-Matt?,” you hand him his fallen apple and step in front of your stroller, obscuring his view of Noelle.

“What are you- where have you been? We’ve been worried sick,”

“I can’t talk to you,” You reply with a shaky tone, “I can’t handle it right now. Just act like you never saw me,”

He frowns at your words, disheartened at how you could seem so scared of him. Not physically but mentally, emotionally even. You were doing so well and now… here is a physical reminder of your past life.

Birthing Noelle was different because while she did have features of her father, she was a reminder of the future and what is to come but seeing Matt right now pushed you all the way back to where you were emotionally a year ago.

He notices the stroller behind you but before he can get a word out, you’re cutting him off.

“No,” you grit through your teeth, “No! Don’t even,” you point at him

“Does he know?,”

“I don’t owe any of you anything,”

“She looks just like him, Y/N”

“Stop it!,” you hold your hand up to quiet him, “I have been through hell and back trying to heal. I don’t need this right now. Go about your day, you didn’t see me, you didn’t see anything!,”

“He deserves to know,”

“I can’t let him back in my life. If he finds out, he will be around and I won’t get better! He’ll take her away from me,”

“It’s not about you or him. If he has a baby, he deserves to know and she deserves a dad. He wouldn’t take her from you, he wouldn’t do that,”

“I can’t take that chance, Matt. He broke up with me, he fell out of love because tour and the fame was too much. How do you expect him to juggle being a father when he couldn’t even juggle being a boyfriend! If you tell him and he comes after me, I will NEVER forgive you!,”

“What’s going on?,” you turn to your left and see Reid coming to stand between you and Matt, “Is he bothering you?,”

“We’re friends,” Matt defends himself. This is getting a lot bigger than what you needed right now.

“Yeah? Well it doesn’t seem that way. So if you could, please leave. She looks uncomfortable,”

“Y/N, please,” he begged. He hadn’t seen nor heard from you in over a year, all of you were a family and it’s been hard to process for all of them how you were there one day then gone without a trace.

“You should go, Matt,” you hide behind Reid and wait until he leaves. He stood there waiting to see if you’d change your mind but when you didn’t, he got the hint and went on his way.

“I’ll wait till he’s gone then I’ll have Morgan watch the tent, I’ll walk you home,”

“Thank you,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you wipe your tears and you turn around to crouch down in front of Noelle, making sure she’s okay, she’s half asleep, usually you’re back at the cabin by now to put her down for a nap but this little scuffle pushed it back.

“Is there anything you need before we leave? I saw you turn back around like you forgot something,”

“I… I needed bread,”

“What kind?,”

“Pumpernickel and sourdough,”

“I’ll be right back,”

“Reid, you don’t have to,”

“I got it,” he rests a hand on your shoulders to calm you down. A lot happen just now, it made sense why your nerves would be all over the place

You decided not to protest as he was already on his way over to the bread truck. You look back to Noelle and see she’s finally out like a light just that quick.

Matt’s words began echoing in your mind as you stare at her. Why couldn’t today have just been like any other day? What are the fucking odds that he ends up at this market in particular? You know he loves them but there’s one closer to the city that’s his favorite. Why’d he have to come out to the countryside?

Was this a coincidence or was it somehow planned? You know for sure he’s going to tell Noah, that’s his best friend and you don’t know how to handle any of it. They don’t know where you live but now you’re worried they’ll come out here looking for you, which means you’ll have to ask Reid to do a weekly pick up and drop off. You know he won’t mind but you hate asking for help.

He deserves to know

It’s like tinnitus now. Just an irritating ringing in your ears that won’t go away.

But as you stare at your daughter, you realize she was an embodiment of the bright rays that peaked through the cloud that rained over your head for months. She was your sunshine.

And no one would take your sunshine away.

——————

——————

Let me know if you want a part two or if I should leave it open ended like this? 👀

Be sure to comment and reblog! Much love!

tags: @lma1986

[sanjoongie]

ₛₙₒwₑd ᵤₙdₑᵣ

☃snowed under: be overwhelmed with a very large quantity of something, especially work.

☃Submission for the Anti Holiday Event from @lapydiaries, prompt chosen: too busy to go home

☃Rated: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

☃Genre: fluff, smut

☃Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader (f)

☃Au: non-idol, office

☃Trope: co-workers to lovers

☃Word Count: 4,493

☃Warnings: Wooyoung is a persistent menace, he also flirts while cooking, kissing, slight body worship, biting, oral (f), hair tugging, hand holding during oral 🥺, kissing with your cum on his lips, penetrative sex with a condom, slight overstim, pain kink, scratching, wooyoung is a panty thief

☃Summary: when your work makes you too busy for the holidays, or gives you any time to visit home, you gain a temporary guest in Wooyoung who is looking to chase away the holiday blues with you. But will a sentimental, intimate setting make this into more than it was meant to be?

☃Soundtrack: Stray Kids' Christmas EveL album {Happy Holidays 🥰}

You cradled your phone between your shoulder and your ear, typing out a work email on your laptop. “I know I know Mom but it’s utterly too busy. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Your mother let out a disappointed sigh and your heart hurt from the sound. “I know work comes first but I was hoping…”

“I was hoping too,” You said eagerly, trying to portray to your mother that you weren’t using work as an excuse. “But this holiday advertisement is just booming and we’ve gotten so many offers for work after Christmas. I can’t just jet off and leave my team to handle everything.”

“I know, dear,” Your mom sounded wearing but proud. “You’ll find time to call though?”

“I will, I promise.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up, rubbing your temples. What was it that you had to do next?

“Heyyyyyyy.” Wooyoung rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to your office and then upon a quick inspection that you weren’t on the phone or otherwise occupied, he collapsed onto the chair in front of you and your desk as well.

Quickly, you moved your open drink out of the way, in case Wooyoung decided to be even more dramatic, and spilled your drink. “Can I help you?” You mused.

“Why did we decide to launch a holiday campaign? I'M EXHAUSTED!” Wooyoung lamented into your desk.

“It’s extremely lucrative,” You brought up.

“Yes, but is the money worth my mental state?” Wooyoung wailed.

Project Manager was a title you held with honor while Wooyoung was your graphics designer. You tried your best to help him out by being the communication between the client and Wooyoung, but Wooyoung still had to bear most of the creative weight. He was pulling long hours at the office and you felt bad for pushing him so hard.

You tentatively patted his head and you froze when Wooyoung moaned loudly. “Uh, Wooyoung, that’s not exactly appropriate noise for being in my office.”

Wooyoung sat up, a pout pulling at his lips. “That’s the first comfort I’ve had in like 72 hours, come on!”

“At least the client has finally settled on what they would like color wise?” You offered optimistically.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry, sinking into the chair until his chin hit his chest. “For now.”

You made a noise of sympathy. “I’ll make it up to you,” You offered.

Wooyoung’s lips were lifted in a sign of dissatisfaction. “Unless you can give me extra time so I at least get to enjoy the holidays then I’m not sure how you can do that.”

You winced. “If it’s any consolation, I'm in the same camp, buddy.”

Wooyoung suddenly brightened up, sitting up in the chair. “Yeah?”

“You needn’t look so enthused,” You grumbled goodnaturedly.

Wooyoung laughed brightly and tipped his head back, covering his mouth. “No. I just mean! I’m all alone for the holidays too.”

It took you a few minutes to absorb that information and to understand why Wooyoung would be excited about you being alone too. “Oh no,” You said, putting your hands up. “Absolutely not.”

Wooyoung frowned and began to whine. “What do you mean no? It could be fun. Come on!”

As much as you were a very hands on person in your job life, it took a lot out of your social battery. So when you clocked out, you enjoyed the solitude and silence of your home. It gave you a headache even imagining Wooyoung in your home for even a 24 hour period. You began to rub your eyebrow in worry.

“I’ll be the best guest, the very very best,” Wooyoung promised. He took your hand into both of his and clasped it warmly. “Plus, I hear you’ve got a nice place. It’s probably nothing like the cramped bachelor I’ve got.”

“Wooyoung…” You tried to tug your hand back, but Wooyoung had a very firm grip on you.

“You said you’d make it up to me!” Wooyoung pouted with his eyes now, making them big and wet and pleading up at you.

You sighed heavily. “Fine. I am a woman of my word.”

Fast forward to the week of Christmas, specifically Christmas Eve. Wooyoung landed on your doorstep bright and early, much to your not-an-early-bird chagrin.

You invited him in and it was a whirlwind as Wooyoung typically emulated. His mouth fell open and his eyes went wide. He twirled around as he took in the second floor balcony and your eight foot tall Christmas tree. “Your place is gorgeous!” He yelled.

You grasped the back of his jacket, that was currently only being held up in the crook of his elbows, and pulled it off to hang up. “Thank you, Wooyoung. Now--”

Wooyoung was already in your state-of-the-art kitchen, rummaging through your cupboards. “Do we need to go to the grocery store? It doesn’t look like you have flour. You do have sugar, that’s a good sign. We’ll need coloring and sprinkles and--”

“Wooyoung!” You shouted.

Your graphic designer paused, eyes on you, mid-grab of a mixing bowl you didn’t even remember you had. “What?”

“Why are you tearing apart my kitchen?” You screeched.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” Wooyoung drew out the syllable like his tongue needed to catch up with his brain. “Because we’re going to make Christmas yummies?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “It’s the holidays!” you protested. “We should be resting. Ordering take out. Maybe watching some movies?”

Wooyoung frowned like you just told him Santa wasn’t real. “But I had this whole plan. Making homemade hot cocoa and dipping Frosty the Snowman cookies in them!”

You rubbed your face with your hand. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung rounded your island and grabbed your two hands between his again. “I promise it’ll be fun. Come on. Don’t you want some holiday cheer in here?”

Somehow you let Wooyoung talk you into going to the grocery store, even though it was chilly and you hated the cold. But Wooyoung’s enthusiasm drew you like a moth to a flame. So you let him tug you through the rows, as he grabbed ingredients for his grand master plan.

“What about Christmas dinner?” Wooyoung wondered.

“Wooyoung… there’s only the two of us. Surely you don’t want a turkey too?!” You said, flabbergasted.

Wooyoung laughed, high pitched and throwing his head back, just like in your office. People looked over at you and you felt your cheeks heat up. “We can do something smaller. Come on. It’s the least I can do for you, since you took me in. Otherwise, I might just be heating up a microwave dinner in my tiny bachelor.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “Okay.”

Wooyoung bit down on his lower lip, eagerly eyeballing you. “Yeah?”

You breathed in deeply and let it out with a gusty sigh. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Impulsively, Wooyoung brought your hands to his lips and he gave them a loud smacking kiss on the back of them. “You won’t regret it!”

Your mouth dropped as Wooyoung dashed down the aisle, his boots squeaking against the linoleum as he took the corner quickly. Did your coworker just kiss your hands?

“Woo-Wooyoung!” You shouted at him.

“We need peanuts!” Wooyoung shouted.

You pushed the cart full of baking supplies already and attempted to follow the lightning bolt that was named Wooyoung.

Back at your house, you sat on your couch, leaning over the back, watching as Wooyoung took over your kitchen. He prepared everything mise en place, carefully measuring and setting out various plates and bowls of ingredients. Once he was ready, and he turned on the oven, his eyes glittered as he looked at you.

“I’m missing something,” He announced.

“Oh no, did we forget something?” You worried, looking around, hoping it was still in a grocery bag.

Wooyoung grabbed an apron from a bag on a chair and walked steadily towards you. “I need a sous-chef.”

“Oh, Wooyoung, I don’t--”

Wooyoung ignored you. He was behind you, reaching around and tying an apron around your waist. You held in your breath as Wooyoung finished the knot at the small of your back. He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. “I’ll guide you through everything.”

A shiver slid down your spine. You mentally smacked yourself. There was no need to have any dirty throughts while Wooyoung simply meant you didn’t have to worry about fucking up his Christmas baking. Right?

Wrong.

Wooyoung had his arms around you the majority of the prepping. If anything needed to be cut up, his hands were around yours, showing the proper way to cut. If you had the rolling pin, he was leaning with you as pie dough was flattened. He made sure your hands were properly floured. He mixed cookie dough with you in your mysterious mixing bowl, feeding a piece of cookie dough and chocolate chunks into your mouth.

That was your last straw. “I need a break,” You said, breaking Wooyoung’s seemingly magic hold on you.

“Why why why, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung’s brown, wet eyes followed you as you put the island between him and you.

“Bathroom break,” You lied through your teeth and made a beeline for your upstairs bathroom, the one connected to your bedroom.

You pushed the door closed behind you and raised your hand to your lips. You swore you could still feel his fingers brushing against your lips as he--you slapped your cheeks with both hands, hoping to wake yourself from whatever dreamland you were in right now. What the actual fuck was going on right now?

You ran the water next and had splashed your face a few times before a loud knock on the door scared the shit out of you, making you jump in the air.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wooyoung’s voice filtered through the wood.

“Yeah!” You shouted back. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You seemed a little flushed down there. You aren’t coming down with anything, are you? I could pivot and make chicken soup if you need it.”

You sighed loudly. Wooyoung was simply a touchy-feely guy. He cared and he gave. You were looking way too fucking deep into everything. Whatever you were feeling, needed to be reeled back.

You opened the door and pasted a cheerful smile on your face. “No, I’m fine. Like I said, bathroom break. Why did you follow me up here anyways? Don’t you have cookies to check on?”

Wooyoung rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, like he was holding himself back. “I’ve got a timer for that.”

You waited for Wooyoung to turn to the side so that you could leave your bathroom but he didn’t budge. “Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flitted across your face and you weren’t sure what he was trying to find there. This whole situation felt weird. You felt like Wooyoung was waiting for you to say or do something, but you didn’t know what that was. You let out a sigh and moved past Wooyoung.

“I’m going to go find a movie to put on. Are you more of a The Santa Clause guy or The Christmas Story?”

Your body brushed by Wooyoung’s and in that moment you learned exactly what Wooyoung had been waiting for. His arms circled behind your back and stopped you from moving past him completely. His eyes remained studying your face and his Adam’s apple bobbed in apprehension.

“Boss, do you know why I’m here today?” He asked, his tongue flickering over the freckle on his lip.

You froze. “Uh, because otherwise we’d both be alone on Christmas?”

“No,” Wooyoung murmured. “So that I could get closer to you.”

You laughed nervously. “Well, this is pretty close.”

“Not close enough,” Wooyoung whispered and then leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

His tongue followed the seam of your lips until you opened up for him. Then it tangled with your tongue, as if he was searching out of the taste of the sweet cookie dough you had just consumed minutes ago. It wasn’t until Wooyoung moaned softly into your mouth that you pushed at his shoulders and broke the kiss.

“What was that?” You whispered.

“That was a kiss, Boss,” Wooyoung teased.

“No, seriously!”

“You didn’t like it?”

You didn’t know how you felt. Your mind was reeling with your reality. Did you graphics designer just kiss you with tongue? And did you like it?

A loud buzzer sounded through your loft and then Wooyoung yelped in response. “The cookies!” He shouted and bounded out of your bedroom. And then ran back to the doorframe. “We’re not done with this conversation!” He shouted at you and then ran downstairs.

You were half tempted to lock your bedroom door until Wooyoung threatened to break down the door but you didn’t want to bother the entire building with your drama. So you slowly but surely moved out of your bedroom and down the stairs into the living room.

Wooyoung was moving his chocolate chunk cookies to a cooling rack. His eyes found yours and then he snatched a cookie. “They’re soft and gooey, you should have one.”

You stared at Wooyoung as he broke a cookie apart and then fed it to you. And when you didn’t open your mouth immediately, he said “ah!” loudly until you did. The cookies were perfect. Just like Wooyoung’s typical work.

Wooyoung smiled happily as you chewed and then zoomed back behind the island to decorate the Frosty cookies from earlier.

“So?” Wooyoung asked, without lifting his eyes from his work.

“The cookies are perfect,” You said cautiously.

Wooyoung sent you the most bald-face look, clearly expressing he knew you were avoiding his actual question.

“I’m still processing,” You said.

“I could kiss you again if you need more data,” Wooyoung grinned wickedly.

“I’m turning on a damn movie,” You grumbled.

Wooyoung blew a raspberry at your response but finished his job nonetheless. He made hot cocoa. He slowly heated up the milk, melted the dark chocolate with a double boiler, and whisked his own whip cream.

By the time the intro for The Santa Clause was done, Wooyoung was bringing over his festively decorated Frosty the Snowman cookies and two mugs of hot cocoa. You dug in and you couldn't help but moan out loud at how good the cookies were with the hot cocoa.

“See,” Wooyoung sent you a knowing look, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” You couldn't help but say quietly.

Wooyoung froze mid dip of his cookie. “Are you a serial killer or something I don’t know about?”

Now it was your turn to send him a dirty look. “No but I don’t have any time to entertain a relationship, Wooyoung. You know better than anyone how much my work life consumes my time.”

“Yeah I do know,” Wooyoung agreed.

Wooyoung put his own cookie and mug down, prying the same items from your hands as well, and putting them on the coffee table. “Do you think that information changes how I feel?”

You couldn't help but gasp. “Wooyoung, shut up.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “No, I won’t. We work together, so that’ll make up for the time we don’t get at home. And don’t you know how healing it is to even sleep in the same bed as the one you--?”

You pressed a finger to Wooyoung’s lips. “Stop that.”

Wooyoung gently set his teeth into the tip of your finger playfully. “Don’t tempt me with a good time,” he said with a husky voice.

“Wooyoung!” You hadn't meant for his name to come out as a whine but it did. You could feel your resolve crumbling.

“I can take care of you,” Wooyoung said, his face completely open. “I can cook, I can fu--”

“No, No! Wooyoung, this is ludicrous. Work romances are notoriously messy. What happens if it doesn’t work out? We work too closely together. Plus, if we sleep together, you’ll always look at me like I’m a present to unwrap for you and I cannot handle that on the daily.”

Wooyoung broke out into giggles. “You’re the boss. Who’s going to yell at you if you’re the one that got caught doing it in your office?”

“We are not doing it in my office, Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung pushed you to your back on the couch. “Can we do it here?” He cocked his head cutely.

Goosebumps littered your skin. You could barely handle Wooyoung begging to go on constant coffee runs at work, how did you think you could deny him this?

“No, we cannot do it here,” You whispered, your throat tight with lust.

“I’ll make you a fresh cup of cocoa when we’re done,” Wooyoung promised, leaned down.

Wooyoung once again stole your breath and a kiss from your lips. His lips pressed against yours and then after a few smooches, his lips travelled along your jaw and then down your neck. You were craning your neck to give him room before you realized he was enjoying himself a little too much by sucking a mark there.

“Jung Wooyoung,” You growled, slapping a hand over the mark. “You did not!”

Wooyoung looked pleased with himself. “I did.”

“You must be stopped,” You said in exasperation.

Wooyoung’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I don’t want you to tell me to stop until you get overstimulated.”

“Excuse you?!” You squawked.

Wooyoung was dissolving into giggles again, all the while pushing your sweater up to reveal your stomach and bra. His lips kissed along the tops of your breasts, following the curve of your breast until he met your sternum. He gently but thoroughly kissed down your stomach before his eyes flicked back up to meet yours again.

“I’ve been a good boy. I let you taste my cookies. Let me taste you now.”

You sucked in a breath, only feeding Wooyoung’s ego even more. Still, he patiently waited until you nodded stiffly and then he hooked his fingers under your sweats and underwear, and pulled them off until you were bare from the waist down.

Your heart beat out of your chest as he settled between your legs and placed sweet kisses along your mound. You could feel yourself warming up for the graphics designer. He bit down into the flesh part of your thigh before soothing it with his tongue and kisses.

When Wooyoung ate you out, you felt like you were an ice cream sandwich. His tongue delicately licked your inner folds like he was truly gathering your wetness on his tongue to taste you. His eyes would shoot back to yours every once in a while, to gauge how you were but you were simply a whimpering mess, biting down on your finger to keep your moans from getting louder.

Wooyoung tugged on your arm until you let go of your finger. “Wanna hear how good I’m doing,” He mumbled and then went back to business.

“Oh fuck,” You cursed as Wooyoung began to kitten-lick your clit.

One hand dove into his hair to hold him in place and your other scratched against the cushion below you. Wooyoung immediately pressed his fingers in between yours, just as he flattened his tongue against your clit, knowing you’d need the support.

“Wooyoung, wait!” You whined. “I’m gonna--jesus!”

Your thighs shook as your orgasm ripped through you embarrassingly early. It had been a while since you had gotten such good head.

“Oh fuck that’s hot,” Wooyoung mumbled before he was climbing up your body to kiss you again.

You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips and you shuddered at how dirty it was.

“See, told you I could take care of you,” Wooyoung whispered, lips pink and swollen from kissing you and eating you out.

You swallowed loudly. “You did.”

“Let me fuck you on the couch,” Wooyoung pleaded, pressing his head to your forehead charmingly.

“You better have a condom,” You scowled.

“Never leave home without them!” Wooyoung proclaimed.

He stood up and reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a condom package. He bit down on the packaging and then began to undo his pants.

“Wooyoung…oh god.” You went from scolding Wooyoung to moaning about the state of his lower half. He had barely pushed his pants down to his thighs when you saw his cock pressed up against his black boxer briefs. He was thick.

Wooyoung pressed his lips together as he smoothed the condom over his length. “I’m going to stuff you, lovely, just you wait.”

You pushed yourself up from the couch, sitting up the proper way, facing Wooyoung. “If you make some corny joke about me being a turkey, I swear to god,” You threatened.

Wooyoung threw back his head and laughed; the same laugh that had been entertaining you from the office to the grocery store and now in your living room. It never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Whether it was its charm or its owner, you weren’t quite sure, but it always made you react.

“Nah, I just wanna fuck you good,” Wooyoung admitted.

“Shut up,” You whispered, feeling your face heat up again.

“Gladly,” Wooyoung whispered huskily.

He slipped between your legs, rubbing up against your wet folds. His lips pressed against yours, sensually kissing you while he slicked up his condom-covered cock. It was a bit of a job working himself deeper inside of you. You were tighter once you’ve come, however, Wooyoung sounded like he was enjoying every moment of it.

“Sucking me in, jesus,” Wooyoung grunted.

“I am not,” You hissed.

Wooyoung grinned in response. He scooped a leg under one arm and bend pulled it up so he could get a better angle inside of you. “Your pussy is greedy for me.”

“Wooyoung!” You scolded him under your breath.

Wooyoung started to rock his hips against yours, groaning at the sensation. You squirmed a bit as your sensitive clit rubbed against his taut stomach.

“I got you,” Wooyoung cooed at you, cupping your face with his free hand.

“It's too much,” You whined.

Wooyoung’s grin couldn't get any wider. “Want me to stop?”

You couldn't help but pout. “No, I just--” You moaned as he grounded against you again.

“You like a little pain with your pleasure?” Wooyoung lifted an eyebrow at you. “That’s cool. Me too.”

“I--”

You dug your fingers into Wooyoung’s shoulders as his hips swiveled against yours again. Wooyoung hissed and then he chuckled. “There you go.”

You wrapped your legs around Wooyoung’s waist, bucking your hips and meeting his thrusts. You could feel your wetness smearing against Wooyoung’s pelvis but you couldn't give a crap because it felt so good.

You dug your teeth into the nape of his shoulder next and Wooyoung gasped. “Fuck yes.”

The both of you soon unraveled together. You sweet whines intermingled with Wooyoung’s loud, lusty moans. Wooyoung panted into the crook of your shoulder for a moment until his softening cock made him slip out of you and then you both groaned at the sensation. The condom remained and you watched in utter horror as his cum spilled out of the condom and onto your couch.

“Ah, shit,” Wooyoung laughed, eyes looking around for a cloth.

He pulled his pants and underwear up and as he jogged into the kitchen to wet a clean tea towel.

You winced as you pulled the condom out of you and tied it up. You left the couch to throw out the condom. You tugged your shirt back down and looked for where Wooyoung had tossed your--

“Here,” Wooyoung intercepted you with your pants.

You opened your mouth to address what exactly just happened but Wooyoung’s phone went off.

He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it without pause. “Hey, Mom.”

Oh god. If you two hadn't come any earlier, you would have been interrupted by his mom calling. That was--

Wooyoung cupped his mouth over his phone. “No, I told you--uh, what? My location is different?” Wooyoung chuckled nervously. “What are you talking about?”

Wooyoung held his phone away from his ear as his mother screeched through the speaker. “Why didn’t you just bring the girl home instead of telling me you were too busy with work? Don’t you think I’d want to meet her?”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened, shot anxiously to you, and then his lips pressed his cheeks back. “Mom. Seriously, we’re swamped with work, there’s no time.”

“Well, you make sure you make time to call your family tomorrow, okay? I don’t care how into this girl you are, your family--”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because Wooyoung dashed into the downstairs half bath and closed the door with his foot.

You sympathized at least about the mother disappointed in her child not coming home for the holidays.

At least it gave you time to put your pants on. You frowned when you didn’t find your underwear, however.

Wooyoung must have finished up his call because he came out with an ‘aw shucks’ look on his face. “I’m sorry about that. My mom is--”

“Your mom,” You mused out loud.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung laughed and then his face dropped. “Listen, there’s no pressure, we can just enjoy this and--”

“Eat dinner? Finish the movie?” you offered.

Wooyoung’s eyes scanned your face except this time you knew what he was looking for: Wooyoung wanted to know that everything was okay. You had just been fed and thoroughly fucked. What wasn’t there to like? “Yeah?”

“Yes, Wooyoung, I’m not going to kick you out of my place,” You deadpanned. “Geez, what kind of person do you take me for?”

“A harsh task mistress who's hard to impress,” Wooyoung supplied.

You laughed under breath, that was part a sigh. “You’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“Wait--hey!” Wooyoung protested. “Surely I wasn’t that bad of a lay!”

“No, for making a cum stain on my couch,” You replied.

“I didn’t even get a chance and I’m already in the dog house?” Wooyoung muttered to himself.

It was your turn to throw your head back and laugh, clutching your stomach and tears streaming down your face.

“Okay, it’s not that funny,” Wooyoung pouted, cleaning up his mess.

“Let’s see after supper,” You relented.

You could practically see Wooyoung’s ears perk up. “I’ll blow your pants off a second time.”

“Wooyoung,” You said his name in warning.

Wooyoung looked pleased at your response. “Maybe the third time I can convince you to let me sleep in the bed with you.”

It looked like you weren’t going to be able to shake off this man and you felt a little bit better for it. You two could fill the void each other was feeling after working so hard. And maybe you’d get to finish the movie too.

“As soon as you tell me where my underwear are,” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Wooyoung grinned. “They’re mine now.”

“Wooyoung!”

[jobean12-blog]

Life is Good

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 999

Summary: Bucky loves to take care of you even if it means he has to get out of the the warm and cozy bed but he'll be keeping it warm for when you get home.

Author's Note: My sweet friend @sgt-seabass shared this absolutely lovely and adorable tik tok with me and just made me think of this softness with Bucky and Alpine. Thank you love! And thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft sweet fluff and warm and fuzzy 😁

“You don’t have to bring me to work Buck. Stay in bed!”

Alpine meows in agreement and stretches himself out in the warm spot Bucky just vacated.

“Nah doll face. I’ll take you. I don’t want you going out in this alone.”

You stare at him as he sits sleepily on the edge of the bed and yawns, the backdrop of the neighboring buildings obscured by the flakes of snow fluttering wildly outside but doing little to distract from his perfection.

“Bucky.”

“Doll.”

He gives you a lopsided smile and crooks his finger at you before patting his thigh.

You walk between his legs and sit, curling against his bare chest, still warm from sleep.

“Just need a hug before we go.”

You hum happily into his skin with a soft inhale.

“I should call out…”

“You should.”

“But I have to get this project done.”

“I know baby doll.”

“Alpine?” you ask and peek over Bucky’s shoulder at the white fluff sprawled out on the bed.

The cat doesn’t even lift his head up.

“We all know his answer,” Bucky chuckles. “He’d stay in bed all day.”

You place a soft kiss to Bucky’s neck and nuzzle closer.

“Honestly. Hugs were the best and worst idea. I do not want to get up,” he says. “Ever again.”  

“Yeah, I know. Now I’m extra comfy and in my happy place.”

You feel the satisfied rumble that moves through his chest before he presses his thumb under your chin and tilts your face up to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss.

“Bucky,” you murmur against his mouth.

“Uh huh, I know,” he sighs, kissing you again before he gently sets you down on the bed.

“Gimme five to wash up and change and we’ll go.”

Once Bucky is dressed he appears in the living room and looks you over.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asks.

“Yup!”

He crowds your space and pulls your hat down over your ears before tightening your scarf.

“Lunch?”

“Yes Bucky,” you answer sweetly and pat your bag.

“Snacks?”

He then pulls your gloves from your jacket pockets and motions for your hands.

“Of course,” you reply.

When he has your gloves secured he gives you one more check and nods approvingly.

“Ok, let’s go.”

He gets himself dressed, of course with fewer accessories than you, and holds the door open while reaching out for your hand.

“Bye Alpine,” you yell.

Bucky walks you to the train station, takes the train with you and then walks you to your building before kissing you until you’re overheating. He watches you get inside and waves through the large glass panes until you disappear into the elevator.

The day flies by thanks to all that you have to do but you’re productive and manage to finish early. With excited steps you walk toward the elevator, contemplating calling Bucky to let him know you’re leaving. He insisted on coming back to get you and take you home but you want to surprise him and decide you can make it home just fine on your own.

Your trip back is uneventful and when you reach the door to your apartment you can already smell the familiar aroma of your favorite comfort meal. With a smile you unlock the door and walk inside, softly calling Bucky’s name.

When he doesn’t answer you toe off your shoes and whip off all your warm weather garments then walk to the crock pot on the counter and lift the lid, inhaling with contentment.

The bedroom door is wide open and as you get closer you can see Bucky’s bare foot dangling off the edge of the bed. You inch closer with quiet steps and find him laid out on top of the comforter in nothing but his black boxers.

The curtains that normally cover the large window next to the bed are pushed haphazardly aside, allowing the soft brightness of the snow to bathe the room in a white glow. Everything you can see outside is lined with a neat new edge of dazzling crystals.

As pretty as it all is your eyes quickly move back to the bed and Bucky.

His metal hand is curled around your pillow and his face is smushed into it. Alpine is laying in the small space between Bucky’s bent leg and his arm with all four legs straight out and his furry belly gently rising and falling with his even breathing.

You stare for a few moments before taking your phone out and snapping a photo.

“New lock screen?” Bucky mumbles as he slowly shifts and opens his eyes.

“Definitely,” you giggle.

“How come you didn’t call me doll?”

His voice is stern even though his face is half hidden in your pillow.

“I was done early and wanted to surprise you…surprise!”

He grumbles something about ‘next time you better call because blah blah’ and trails off.

“Get over here doll.”

“That’s my pillow,” you tease.

“Smells so good,” he murmurs with one last nuzzle before holding out his arms and making grabby hands.

You curl into him and after several kisses you ask, “did you fall asleep reading again?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I got the food in the crock pot, had a snack or two then decided to read while I waited for you to call and well…”

“Thank you for cooking. It smells so good.”

“Of course baby doll. It’ll be ready soon.”

“Mm. I don’t want to get up yet.”

“Me either.”

“Meow.”

Alpine stretches and presses himself closer into Bucky while lightly kneading the comforter.

“Hi furball,” you giggle. “Did you help daddy cook?”

Bucky scoffs playfully and tugs you closer into his embrace.

“He’s been in the same spot since you left!”

“He’s living the life!” you muse.

Bucky slides his face closer to yours and holds your gaze while he delicately traces a finger along the curve of your jaw.

“It’s the best life,” he murmurs against your lips.

@lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @randomfandompenguin @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @kmc1989 @haileygarciasunshine

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Hii! I'm literally obsessed with your Boothill x Mechanic!reader fics, so please can I request one where someone, maybe from the IPC, attacks the Reader, and Boothill comes just in time to save her🥰

a/n: i am SO sorry this took literally forever. sometimes things just sit in the inbox for months bc i dont have the capacity to roll out the content in a way that im content with *sobsob* anyway- IPC Goon Squad shoot down anyone? warning(s)!!: uhhh, y/n gets shot... whoopies

w.count: 2.4k

"this is so you're fault!"

"aw, come on, sugar! have some adventure!"

boothill's words wouldn't sound so shallow and unserious if you weren't in the middle of running for your life while he runs for his own entertainment. ore who is already buckled into the carabiner clasp on your shoulder goes the extra mile and clutches its metal hands into the collar of your shirt as it jostles with your movements.

the cyborg cowboy running just a step behind you hoots and hollers as you focus solely on running forward towards any exit you could come across. the sound of IPC goons hot on your heels.

-SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER-

part of you wonders how boothill managed to get you out of your shop for any extended amount of time to make a short trip off planet. boothill came to you with outsider info that contained the whereabouts of outer world tech that has been long outdated and apparently abandoned. a small dwarf planet that had once been an industrial planet of metal, oil, gas and more metal- was all but in abandoned ruin. the planet itself was safe to traverse and didn't have any unknown or dangerous gasses on the surface; and with all the potential of finding something to bring back to our shop?

...yeah okay so maybe it wasn't that hard getting you to close up shop for a few days to scavenge a junkyard planet.

loading into boothill's ship he uses to get to and from bounties and your shop intermittently, you immediately start tickering around with things he's allowed you to. unfortunately he's pretty set on not letting you fuss around with this control board in the cockpit, but everything else was fair game.

"hell, if you can fix a thing up or two- i ain't gonna stop yah." he tells you.

it was nice having you around like this. sitting on the floor of where he spends most of his time out in the nothingness of space just doing your thing. fixing and fumbling around with metal panels and wires as ore runs around on its own to explore all the little nooks and crannies. the galaxy ranger could lean against the wall with his ankles crossed watching you all day long.

when you both finally land, despite the planet being so long abandoned and overrun with rust, ruin and the occasional critter that whatever catastrophe happened here didn't die from, there was still smog hanging high in the atmosphere with smoke billowing out of tall towers of concrete. you wonder if the power source was just going to run until it burnt out- not like it would ruin anything anyway.

slipping on your gas mask, you adjust it around your head- it was one of boothill's conditions on taking you here.

"i don't need you contracting any weird forkin' diseases. take it or i'm going on my own," he had warned you. you didn't argue since you also didn't want to bring something nasty back from your little trip- be it airborne or otherwise.

the plastic shield over your eyes had already been fog proofed and the seal around the mask fit snugly onto your face so nothing could slip under it. your breathing and words were muffled through the filters by your mouth. you take a few deep breaths to make sure the valve at your chin works properly. additionally slipping on a pair of highly durable gloves so you could rummage around freely.

glancing at boothill, you watch with jealously as he just stands plain as day with crossed arms. as a cyborg, you guess personal protection gear was the least of his concerns. instead of sickness, he was more worried about failing axels or corrupting internal processing.

"jealous?" boothill, catching your glances, shifts his weight. leaning forward just to mock his height over you with his hands on his hips. cocky bastard.

"no," you lie before marching forward. you hear his mechanical toned chuckling behind you and have half a mind to try and lose him in the debris but think better of it. you don't need to be getting lost or losing track of him.

over the course of your exploring, ore would run a scan on any small materials you didn't know and if they were worth something, you'd shove your spoils into the pouch you have attached to your hip. boothill did little to contribute to your searching, but he did offer good company. chatting and cracking jokes all the while looking after you and making sure you didn't fall into any hidden traps or have some metal fall on you.

its when you venture into one of the many abandoned factories that things start feeling weird. the planet was supposed to be abandoned a long time ago. the general lack of life and regrowth of fungi and durable (and probably contamnated) plant life made that fact pretty clear. however, there was still things that didn't make sense.

you already thought it strange when the pillar of smoke funneled out like a running chimney. and while at first you thought it was just a power source yet to snuff itself out, you start to think otherwise.

what if people were here?

walking into a room that was clear of debris and almost clean gave you less hope that you two were the only bipedal, sentient beings on planet.

boothill's metal boots clank in the hallway beside you as you venture further inside. ore who hangs onto your shoulder can feel your tension- it's getting better at reading people and situations. if ore were a person, you wonder if this situation and your behavior would have it sweating. boothill also picks up on your demeanor's shift but isn't as worried. if someone- or something- is here, then he can deal with it no sweat. he wasn't just some rusty ole cowboy after all.

his ipc bounty made that pretty clear.

you aren't sure if boothill clues in on the fact that you all might not be alone or if he's deliberately not saying anything. the stupid grin on his face was leaning towards the latter.

not too much time later, you both enter a room with a still intact and activated door system. the door hisses open from the center and inside are those people you were suspicious of finding. a squad of IPC lackey it looks like from the dark armor and idle weapons.

both parties just stare at each other for a moment before boothill opens his mouth.

"well now, ain't this just a treat." as if shooting off a gun at a starting line, the IPC enforcers spring into action. you do as well, twisting on your heel, snatching boothills arm in one of your hands and using the other to urge ore into its carabiner. you take off down the hall.

"this is so you're fault!"

"aw, come on, sugar! have some adventure!"

boothill's words wouldn't sound so shallow and unserious if you weren't in the middle of running for your life while he runs for his own entertainment. ore who is already buckled into the carabiner clasp on your shoulder goes the extra mile and clutches its metal hands into the collar of your shirt as it jostles with your movements.

the cyborg cowboy running just a step behind you hoots and hollers as you focus solely on running forward towards any exit you could come across. the sound of IPC goons hot on your heels.

"you totally knew that this planet wasn't abandoned!" you accuse.

"I had a hunch," boothill brushes off.

listening to the cacophony of boot's hitting the hard floors of the halls behind you, boothill shoves your shoulder when you come to a cross road, pushing you in a direction without giving you time to hesitate. glancing back, you see the figures of two ipc field personnel armed with their guns and another security personnel with a long axe that would surely hurt if swung with even the smallest amount of force.

damn those supporters of qlipoth.

boothill's merry time of entertainment by indulging in an adrenaline chase by the cocky ipc followers is cut short when one of the those very same ipc goons takes a knee. halting his running, he steady's his gun and shoots.

boothill skids to a stop. ore flies off your shoulder as his carabiner breaks. and you- you hit the ground with a cry of pain as you gas mask you had been wearing all this time is knocked off. landing awkwardly and painfully on your side, you reach around your body to cradle your shoulder that the ipc had just shot through.

ore, recovered from its tumble, rushes back to you and grabs onto your wrist with an expression of shock. [｡ꏿ﹏ꏿ｡] it was just a small assistant robot- it didn't know how to help. and it couldn't cry- digital tears is all it could give you. if you were lucid enough, maybe you'd pat its head and say that was enough. but right now? you're too focused on your bleeding shoulder.

"aight," the galaxy ranger hisses, "no more playin around!" boothill, no longer in a goofing mood, draws his nine-millimeter and fires off expert rounds. taking out the scumbag who hit you first as his body gained three new holes. two bullets fly into the figure of the other field personnel while the security goon lucks out with only one.

with the newfound window of time, boothill opens his chamber and discards the empty shells onto the ground. snatching six new rounds, he reloads, clicks his barrel back into place and replaces the gun into its hostler. who knows when or if other ipc lackies will show up.

"come on, y/n," it has been so long since boothill called you by your actual name and he doesn't like that now has to be that time. "up you go." ore clutches its little hands onto you as boothill lifts you. he apologizes each time you hiss as he takes off into a sprint back towards his ship. towards safety.

once he's inside, he's quick to activate the auto-launch and subsequently auto-pilot while he takes you further inside to treat you. you've stayed awake and he's thankful for that, but now he's faced with just how clueless he is. when was the last time he ever had to treat an injury?

boothill doesn't get hurt. he breaks or malfunctions. he doesn't bleed unless you manage to get his head. he's pretty much 99% robot with the remaining 1% being his skull. the last time he ever treated an injury was probably on himself before all his modifications were done. when he only had one shoulder and one arm replaced with metal and axels.

ore is his wake up call. the little robot lets out a loud sound almost like it was trying to scream at him. ['(◣_◢)']

boothill blinks down at it while its digital face changes into a pixeled picture. a piece of cloth. stop the bleeding.

"got it," boothill relinquishes to ore seeing as the little guy had probably seen you dress small wounds all the time. it was better than he could do.

after a series of frustated beeping from ore, some censored cursing from boothill, and hissing from you, boothill finally has your shoulder bandaged and managed to stop the bleeding. you fell asleep a while ago and he almost thought you died if your chest wasn't still heaving.

plopping himself on the floor at the foot of the cot he's placed you in, boothill lets out a deep sigh, raspberrying through his lips. his hat has long been discarded, tossing it off when he had something a bit more important to worry about. he runs a hand through his hair, snagging the strands between his knuckles and curses at himself.

ore sits on boothill's shoulder offering him small beeps of encouragement and gives him a gleeful expression for his successful treatment.

"thanks lil buddy," boothill humors him. "hope your fixer ain't too mad when they wake up though." its a half truth. he doesn't like being on the receiving end of your ire. but in this case, he can't help but feel like he's got it coming. "it's my fault you got thrown around too, huh?"

ore responds with a giant x over it's digital face. [! X !]

"oh, it ain't, huh?" the cowboy chuckles as his robot pal displays three letters- [IPC]. "yeah, i hear you," boothill pokes ore playfully. it's the ipc's fault is what ore is trying to convey. no doubt you'd agree with him when you wake up and he explains it all when you were less foggy headed.

"it's the ipc's fault," you goad him with a frown and offensive stare that would have him sweating if he still had the glands for it. you woke up a bit ago and with some painkiller in your system, you were lucid and more or less managing fine. ore buried itself under your shirt collar and has been there ever since.

"look," boothill sighs, "i can admit when i did somethin' wrong, sugar."

"but you didn't." aeons, your stubborn.

"you got shot."

"and you," you jab a finger into his metal shoulder, "got us out of there alive."

"can ya just let me apologize!" he argues and feels his circuits whirling as you offer him an eyeroll. after a back and forth that goes no where, boothill relents and offers no apology because you don't want one and won't accept one even if he gives it.

when he manages to get you back home, he sticks around for a couple days. forcing you to go into town- which you dislike doing- and go see a proper doctor for your shoulder. just until he's sure you can manage without straining yourself too hard.

watching you rummage around in your shop with what spoils you did manage to bring back felt almost worth the trip until he remembers you got shot. he wonders if it'll scar- probably. he'll never feel like it wasn't his fault you got so hurt, but he knows he can't just expect you to stay on this planet forever either.

one day he'll want to take you somewhere else and you'll want to go along with him again. he can't confine you- so he'll just have to be a bit more careful next time.

and maybe get you some bullet proof gear while he's at it.

a/n pt.2- feels kinda rushed, ngl, but we ball

[netegf]

Hey can i make a blurb request for neteyam? maybe forced proximity trope where they get locked in the lab accident and Neteyam gets anxious bc he hates humans and reader smooches him to calm him down even tho they’re just friends (but they secretly love eachother ofc)

breathing exercise

pairing: neteyam x reader

“Neteyam, please stop picking your fingernails.”

Under shoddy lab fluorescents that make your eyes burn, Neteyam shifts in his position on the countertop, crossing his arms with a passive, but lazy, glare.

“You put us in this mess.” He replies pointedly. “You don’t get to tell me how to deal with it.”

That stings. But you wedge your bottom lip between your teeth, deciding maybe, just maybe, it was deserved.

In fairness, you should have left when Neteyam wanted to. But there was something about the way he looked under the blue lights – so pretty. And surrounding. Like his skin had no ending. It was something you wanted to commit to memory, and the extra couple minutes you’d coaxed out of him felt worth it in the moment.

But that quickly changed when the grimace set on Neteyam’s lips.

When Norm said that everything needed to be sterile. That no one could come in or out because of maintenance on the link units. That Neteyam would be trapped here, in a place that made his skin crawl, all evening.

“Teyam…” you trail off, peering up to meet his eyes which now soften at your dejected tone. “It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

At that, the rigidness of his spine seems to crumble.

His hard expression morphs into a pout and he outstretches a shaky hand to squeeze your own in a silent gesture of reconciliation. Still, the tension between his eyebrows remains.

“I told my dad I’d meet him ten minutes ago. He’s going to be pissed.” Sighing, he runs his slender fingers through his braids and attempts to keep his attention away from the bustling laboratory behind him.

The problem is... it’s not working very well. His breathing is uneven. His knee keeps bouncing up and down. His eyes are glued down at his thigh where your hands are joined.

“He will understand.” You reassure, but he doesn’t seem quite convinced, eyes still screwed tightly shut. “Stay calm, Neteyam. We’re gonna get out of here soon."

“I am calm!”

Now, you stare at him pointedly, and Neteyam slumps his shoulders sheepishly, flashing an apologetic smile. “Okay… maybe I’m not.”

Taking in the appearance of the scared and comically large warrior in front of you, a small smirk sparks like a conductor on your lips. You unwind your hand from his and grip the sides of his chin, drawing your warm faces closer together.

“We just need to find you a way to relax.”

“Mhm.” Yellow eyes travel down your face, stopping abruptly at the curve of your lips. “And how’s that?”

When your mouth collides onto his own, moving with fervor and electricity, he assumes the question must have been rhetorical. The burning kisses breathe new life into him – hands shoot up from his lap and find their rightful places, cradling your cheek and stroking your hair.

“How are we feeling?” You ask cheekily after pulling apart, mouth still hovering over his. So close, but not nearly enough.  

“Distressed. Very.” He has a stupid smile, laboured breaths catching hard in his chest. “Probably need more... of that.”

Then his lips are learning the shape of yours – kissing again, and again, and again. Chasing the air that calms him like it comes from within you.

a/n: ty for the request!! still getting my sea legs with them lolol 🥰💞

[mochinomnoms]

Since PTM!Yuu has magic, does it mean they capable of flying on a broomstick? Do they have to take remedial flight classes since they wouldn't have been able to take the class in their first year? As someone who is absolutely terrified of heights, I know I'd be absolutely terrible at it and would probably need extra lessons to get anywhere with it lol.

Maybe coach Vargas gets Yuu to do some after-school flight workshops (i think thats what its called?) along with none other than Jade. I can imagine Jade trying to act suave and composed in front of them whilst simultaneously trying not to fall flat on his face on the broom. Maybe seeing him out of his depth and floundering will help Yuu see that there is more to this big bad eel than meets the eye 🥰

Yes! They can, but their classes vary by semester, like in a regular college. For the sake of story, I'm having the potions class be a two semester course for the sake of plot and looking at it the same way you would with a thesis or dissertation can sometimes be spread over multiple semesters. I also like to think about the more logistics about how NRC and its classes are run and have a lot of headcanons that I put in PTM.

But for flight, I like to think that flight class is one of those basics that all students have to take at least their first semester. Then they have an option to complete a sports club for the rest of their mandatory credits or continue with general physical education with Vargas, which included flight.

If you do particularly bad, such as merfolk in flight class, you are required to take a remedial class in that specific subject. In Jade and Azul's case, they both have to take a remedial flight class, but Floyd is able to get around it by being in the basketball club.

The remedial class is less about getting a good grade (it's a pass or fail class) but more about demonstrating that you are able to do basic moves and exercises on the broom. If you do, then you get a pass grade, which allows you to graduate. In the fic, I have it set that the remedial class is paired up with an advanced flight class, which is meant for students potentially interested in pursuing Spelldrive as a career. For extra credit or as an honors project, those students can be paired with one of the remedial students and tutor them.

With all that in mind, Grim tends to handle the magic bases classes in the canon storyline, or it's implied at least. I think that since they're in their second year in PTM, they have at least one semester for Yuu to catch up and make up for Grim's grades. So while they're not yet at the level that they'll need a remedial class or workshop yet (and for spoiler reasons the Nurse doesn't allow for them to participate in rigorous exercise), they might in the future!

What I do think makes for a fun scenario is Yuu needing to go to the class to take pictures, as is their job still. So they take pictures of the students in flight class! And imagine their surprise when they really pay attention to Jade and just how bad he is on the broom. He's always so elegant, it's so funny seeing how hard he clenches the brook and stares at the ground the moment his feet leave the ground.

It's almost cute, seeing him so nervous. He never lets anyone see him like this, but even Jade has his moments of simply being a person, rather than a perfect right-hand man. He even manages to get turned upside down at one point, though he's barely off the ground he's wrapped his legs and arms around the broom like is life depended on it.

Yuu can't help but laugh at him and his expression, covering their mouth to feebly hide their laughs. Jade is mildly annoyed that someone is laughing at him, until he realizes just who it is. Now he's admiring the cute sounds leaving their mouth and considering letting himself be the butt of the joke for just a bit longer. At least until his grip slips and he falls on his back.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨I’ve Got You, Baby Girl✨

A/N: This has been on my mind a lot this week after a rough week of cramps. This one is for all my girlies that need some extra love and care on their periods. Thank you @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for encouraging me to write it 🥰

Summary: After suffering all day alone with cramps, Joel comes home from work to take care of you and gives you exactly what you need.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Joel comforts you, oral receiving (fem), orgasm, Joel goes down on you on your period, sweet pet names, Joel in love

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows through the sheer curtains, the velvet blanket draped loosely over your legs as you hug the heating pad to your stomach. Your body aches, your bones crushing together as you hug your knees to your chest. You hate this time of month, hate the awful cramps, hate having to stay in bed all day. It was the worst time of every month. Your period.

You can feel Joel walk into the room, his large presence hovering through the door as you feel immediate relief that he’s home from work early.

“Baby, you doin’ okay? I got worried when you told me you called into work. Can I get you anything?” he asks softly as he walks over to you with his leather work boots scuffing against the hardwood floor.

“Can you get me some water, please?” you ask pathetically as another painful cramp takes over all your senses.

“‘Course, sweetheart. Be right back.”

As he leaves the room, you roll over and pull the blanket off you as your velvet pink shorts barely graze your thighs. Maybe a little water and some air on your sweat covered skin would do you some good.

When he enters back into the room, he comes and sits on the edge of the bed as he hands you a glass of cold water. “Here ya go, sweetheart. Maybe this will help some.”

Your fingers graze his calloused fingers lightly and you smile sweetly as you take the cup and take some sips of refreshing water.

“There ya go, sweetheart,” he coos as he runs his fingers through your messy hair, the feel of his hand instantly soothing you as you relax into his soft touch.

“You’re always so good to me, Joel,” you smile as you set the glass on the edge of the mahogany nightstand and slowly turn to look at his beautiful face. His honey colored eyes staring down at you with nothing but affection as a crooked smile fills his face. He’s always so beautiful, even after a long day at his contracting job.

“Gotta take care of my best girl, don’t I? There’s nothin’ more I wanna do than make sure you’re bein’ taken care of. My perfect girl,” he says sweetly as he runs his thick fingers slowly over your cheek, caressing you in nothing but full affection. He always did know how to completely melt your heart. And he did, every single day.

“How’d I get so lucky?” you sigh as you run your fingers through his salt-and-pepper scruff and stare into warm, brown doe eyes.

“No, how’d I get so lucky is the question,” he chuckles as he rubs the back of your head softly as his other hand skates gently down your arm.

A painful cramp twinges in your gut, and you whine out in pain as you clamp down on Joel’s wrist, your long nails digging into his tanned skin as you call out his name in a plea.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, baby girl. I’ve got you,” he says as he pulls a strand of hair across your glistening forehead behind your ear and soothes you with a soft kiss against your cheek. “What do you need, pretty girl?”

“I… I don’t know. Just want you here is all,” you mumble as you reach for him, another cramp making you bite your lip as you swallow down the agonizing pain.

“Mmm. I know what you need, baby. I can make those cramps go away.”

“How?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing together as he gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom.

“Just trust me, okay?” he asks as he comes back with a sandy colored towel, laying it out across the end of the bed.

“Joel,” you warn, your eyes sinking to the soft towel at your feet. You know what he’s planning now, and it makes your insides churn with both embarrassment and pure desire.

“C’mon, baby. I know how to soothe those cramps. This is what you need, even if you’re afraid of askin’ for it out loud. I know, sweetheart. I always know,” he smiles as the crow’s feet pull at the edges of his honey eyes. He’s always so handsome.

“But… but I’m bleeding. I’m not… I’m not…”

“You’re not what, baby? C’mon. You think a little blood bothers me?” he asks with one eyebrow cocked up, a smirk playing on his lips as his brown eyes stare down at you affectionately.

“Oh, I don’t know. Most guys don’t want…”

“I’m not most guys, sweetheart. Now c’mere. Let me take care of those cramps.”

He slides you down to the end of the bed and settles you right over the towel as your legs hang off the bed, your eyebrows knitting together as you close your eyes and cringe for what he’ll see under the short shorts.

“Hey. Open your eyes for me. You don’t have to be nervous, sweetheart. It’s just your period. You’re still as beautiful as ever. Don’t gotta hide from me, sweet girl,” he purrs as you open your eyes and stare wide-eyed at him. He’s so soft, so caring. You just love him so much.

You let him pull your shorts off, your lacy underwear coming off next as you lie bare before him with your heart beating a thousand miles an hour in your chest. He doesn’t shy away, doesn’t cringe as he takes in all your body, your legs shaking slightly as you hold your breath and watch the way he lovingly looks at you.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” he asks as he pulls you forward and hooks your legs around his broad back as he gets on his knees and slowly glides his calloused fingers against your inner thighs.

“You make me feel beautiful, Joel,” you say in awe as he gently blows over your center, his nose softly grazing your curls as he hovers his lips right above your folds.

You tense your legs up around him, and he pushes down slightly on your lower stomach to calm you down. “Hey, relax. Let me make you feel better, okay?” he asks with gentle words, his husky voice echoing off the glowing walls as you nod your head in reply.

“Okay,” you agree.

“You ready?” he asks before his lips drop down on you.

“Mhm,” you hum as you try to relax your weight against him.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Just relax, breathe. Let me take those cramps away,” he coos. And then his mouth sinks down against you.

His tongue gently slides up and down your folds, his calloused fingers spreading you as he finds his way to your clit and swirls slowly as you feel your cramps already easing from his soft tongue on your most sensitive part of your body.

“Oh,” you moan as you twist your fingers through his tousled curls and catch him groan against the feel of you.

“There ya go, baby. Just relax. Let it all out. I’ve got you,” he coos before he dives back down and sucks your throbbing bundle of nerves into his needy mouth.

Your body writhes against him as he holds one hand down softly against the base of your stomach, the other holding your thigh down as he laps a thick strip from your dripping hole all the way to the top of your clit, dragging a tinge of blood down his throat as he drinks you down.

It’s almost an animalistic sight of him lapping you down on your period, but it’s also so fucking hot. No other man that you know would do this for you, but Joel does. He’d do absolutely anything for you. And this was one way of him showing you just that.

You feel your insides clench up as he draws slow circles over your clit, a burning feeling caking your insides as you feel your orgasm about to break. You’re already so close, his experienced tongue always making you feel so good.

“Joel,” you whine as you clench your legs around him and fist your fingers through his messy curls.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Come for me. It’s okay. Go on. Wanna make all those cramps disappear,” he murmurs as he pulls your glistening clit back into his mouth.

You feel the pressure building in your spine, feel the tingling sensations slide down your body as white hot heat starts to spill down your insides. Three more meticulous licks to your clit and you’re done for.

“Joelll, I’m coming,” you moan as you clench up over nothing and feel hot liquid pool down your thighs, your cramps no more as you ride out your blissful high of a sweet orgasm.

“There ya go. Such a good girl,” he praises as he laps up every single drop of slick between your thighs, your heart tearing at the seams as you stare lovingly down at the man that just gave you your sweet release that you so desperately needed.

You see the shine of your slick against the scruff of his beard as he gently cleans off your inner thighs and messy pussy, making sure to be thorough with his hands. He slides your underwear and shorts back on and drops the towel to the floor in a heap as he scoops you into his strong arms, bringing you back to the head of the bed as he holds you tight against his broad chest.

“You feel any better?” he asks as he kisses you gently against your cheek as his fingers run softly through your hair.

“Much better,” you smile as you place your hand on top of his and curl your fingers around his.

“Good. I love you, baby,” he purrs into the shell of your ear as you turn and lock your lips against his, letting the warmth from his plush lips fill you with nothing but peace and longing.

When you break the kiss, you whisper back to him, “And I love you, Joel Miller.”

He kisses your forehead softly and pulls you back against his warm chest. “Go to sleep, baby girl. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You close your eyes and let the warmth from his tanned skin flood your senses. This is home. He is home, and you never want to be anywhere else but in his loving arms.

Tags: @keylimebeag @msjarvis @princesatracionera @rav3n-pascal22 @syd-djarin @lotusbxtch @laurrrra @sheepdogchick3 @casa-boiardi @pedrostories @whitewolfstar01