#he talked about him with such gentleness and admiration | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chilling-seavey · 1 day ago

Note

heyy can we get a dad george mom reader fic where reader gave birth a couple months ago and she’s a bit insecure about her postpartum body. george has always been super sweet and reassuring and genuinely thinks she is the most beautiful being on earth but she’s kind of in her head about it and he comforts her and they have sweet loving intimate time🤭

Thank you for this, anon!! This was a great follow up to this blurb and a great excuse to also blend it into a mother's day blurb :)

Warnings: Talk of body changes from pregnancy, insecurities, negative self talk, etc. (also please note: every body is a bikini body!!!!!!)

The bouquet of tulips sat in the light of the morning sun streaking in through the open living room windows. Forty-eight pink and purple and white tulips filled the crystal vase, nestled amongst baby's breath and crisp green leaves in a stunning arrangement done by professional hands, a small card tucked amongst the blooms with a hand-written message from your husband. You sat on the couch in your pyjamas to admire them, reaching out with a gentle hand to brush your fingertips over the petals and you leaned down to smell the fresh floral scent.

Resting beside the vase on the coffee table was a modest black velvet box with a purple ribbon and you tentatively picked it up. From the other side of the coffee table, George was standing with your two-month-old son in his arms and swaying him slightly, patting his back to help him burp after his morning feed. He was watching you with this handsome smile on his face, eager for you to open your first ever mother’s day gift.

You stole a nervous glance at him before slipping off the ribbon and then opening the top of the box to reveal what was inside. A dainty bracelet was resting in the bed of silk inside, its chain in your favourite jewelry metal and housing a single charm: a capital L, for the name of your son. You gently traced it with your fingers and a breath of awe.

“Do you like it?” George asked, hopeful, “I know you told me not to go all out with the gifts but I just could not get you something meaningful…something pretty for the beautiful mother of my child.”

“It’s perfect, love, thank you,” you smiled softly at him, holding out an arm to encourage him closer. He stepped around the coffee table and kept a secure hold on your son in his arms as he leaned down to kiss you.

“It’s so nice out today, I was thinking we could go to the harbour and have a day out on the water.” George suggested as he stood up.

You pondered it a moment as you closed the jewelry box and set it on the table in front of you. Having given birth in early March, you had healed from the delivery but the immense changes your body had gone through to carry your son were still lingering—one of which in particular was the excess skin across your abdomen and the stretch marks across your hips and thighs. You tried to tell yourself it was all normal and it was proof that your body had gone through the miracle of growing life and there was nothing to be ashamed of, but it no longer felt like your body. It wasn’t what you had looked like before.

Not to mention that your husband’s career was amongst the sport filled with influencers and models and athletes alike. All the other Formula 1 drivers’ girlfriends and wives were model-thin and far too perfect for their own good; meaning you were starting to dread the concept of returning to the paddock amongst the perfection when you were feeling far less than perfection. Even the concept of going out on the water felt like dread in the pit of your stomach.

“I dunno,” you answered George casually, “I’d prefer to stay in.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at your passiveness, “Really? We haven’t really done much since Lawrence was born and I think it would be nice. I want to take you out…get the little one to dip his toes in the sea for the first time.”

It was incredibly tempting—not to mention George knew how much you normally liked to visit the harbour and be out on the water—but the idea of getting into a bathing suit sounded terrifying. But how could you lie to your sweet husband? You didn’t want him to fret over you or be worried…and you knew he was just being nice.

So you ended up in your ensuite bathroom in your favourite bikini, feeling like absolute shit. The skin of your stomach was saggy and wrinkled from pregnancy and your thighs were scattered with stretchmarks and your breasts were swollen from breastfeeding and barely fitting in your top. It all felt so embarrassing. Your hormones were still fluctuating from the birth and the breastfeeding and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at you felt like the end of the world.

The gentle knock on the door startled you. George called softly, “Love, I put that bucket hat ton Laurie—the one that Lando got him?—and he looks so stinking cute.”

“Okay,” you barely replied, voice a little shaky.

There was a pause, then a gentle, “You alright?”

You tried to take a breath to level your emotions out but then you couldn’t hold it in anymore, “No.”

“Okay, I’m coming in, alright?”

You hid your face in your hands with a sudden sob as he came into the ensuite and right away he was rubbing his thumb over your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Oh, my love, what’s wrong?”

“I’m so ugly,” you confessed through your tears, dropping your hands to throw one in the direction of your reflection.

George’s concerned expression fell into almost genuine hurt at your words and he cupped your cheek to pull your attention to him, “Hey, do not say that. You are not ugly. You never have been and you never will be.”

“It’s not me though,” you protested, looking back at the mirror, seeing how your cheeks were carved with tears and how he, too, looked through the reflection with sadness in his eyes. You continued, speaking to your face in the mirror, “This isn’t my body. I don’t know who that is!”

“Sweetheart,” George sighed, trailing his hands down your sides, over your exposed skin beneath the fabric of your bikini, “it is you. It’s a new and wonderful version of you. You’re a mother now, you carried our son and you gave him life and you brought him into this world with your body. That’s no easy feat.”

“I don’t want to look like this!” you sobbed, “I don’t want people to see me like this!”

“Why?” George asked desperately, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Because it’s embarrassing. I’ll embarrass you!”

George spoke your name firmly, taking your face in both of his hands to bring your eyes to his. His voice was firm, filled with love, but unmistakably serious, “You don’t ever embarrass me and especially not from how you look. I am so lucky to have you by my side…so proud…and I love to show you off to anyone who looks our way. You are my wife, darling. The mother of my son. I am…I am completely and utterly beholden to you.”

“But this isn’t what you signed up for,” you protested hormonally.

“Yes, it is!” George laughed lightly in disbelief, “Yes, it is. You don’t think I knew how your body would change when you got pregnant? And I was begging to get you pregnant, don’t you remember? I loved to see your body change and still now, looking at you…God, love, you are the most gorgeous thing to me.”

Still in tears, you curled into him and his arms went right around you without a second thought. One hand on the small of your back and the other tangled in the back of your hair to keep you close, he held you.

“I know it’s hard for you,” he whispered, fingers scratching through the roots of your hair, “I can’t imagine how strange it all feels, not recognizing yourself in the mirror, and I’m sorry you feel so rubbish. But I wouldn’t ever lie to you; I am in love with you, your soul, and your body. I promise. I have vowed to you exactly that.”

You nodded, clinging onto the back of his shirt with tight fists as you stood together in your bathroom, you in only a bikini. His hands gave your hips a squeeze to get you to step back so he could look into your eyes again.

George wiped your cheeks free of tears with his thumbs, “If you would be miserable going out on the water today, we don’t have to. I promise no one will say anything, though. But if you’d rather go get a burger in a hoodie and jeans then we can do that too. This is your day.”

You sniffled, debating his option, staring at the two of you in the bathroom mirror and how tenderly he held you, like you were so precious to him. He kissed your cheek, not rushing you.

“I want to go out on the water,” you spoke timidly, trying to make up your mind, “But maybe I’ll keep my shawl on.”

“Whatever you want, my love.” George kissed your cheek again. He then whispered against your ear, hands slipping down to grab your ass, “If it helps, I think you look so fucking sexy right now in this bikini.”

You let out a small snort of amusement.

“I mean it,” he said, “and I kind of want to make use of the kid’s naptime to show you that I mean it.”

“George.”

“What?” he laughed and gave your bum a two-handed squeeze.

You swatted his chest playfully but he retaliated with another kiss to your cheek, pulling a soft giggle from your lips as his hands roamed all over your body. You smiled into the mirror as he touched you all over, all the places he loved, and he peppered kisses down your jaw and neck. Your worried mind wouldn’t be cured by a few words in one morning but his presence and his love was reassuring and you knew he’d do anything you wanted to in order to help you feel as beautiful as he always saw you.

♡ Enjoying my content? Support my writing here :)

♡ None of the original writing on this blog may be reproduced, reposted, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

#🩵#george russell fanfic #george russell fic #george russell x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula one fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #domestic f1 #dad george russell #twig mini drabbles

95 notes · View notes

witchywithwhiskey · 5 hours ago

Text

safe harbor

pairing: dr. jack abbot x day shift resident!female reader

summary: you've been pining for the night shift attending dr. jack abbot ever since you started at the hospital, and when you wake up in his bed—alone—after having too many drinks in the park after a particularly bad shift, you finally do something about it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), unspecified age gap, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, come marking, hand job, pussy job, dry humping/thigh riding, big dick/tough fit, tit play/nipple sucking, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, pet names (angel), begging, teasing, aftercare, cuddling and snuggling, drinking and drunkenness (nothing happens while reader is drunk), mutual pining. this fic is inspired by the scene of the doctors and nurses drinking in the park after work in the pitt season 1 finale, but it could take place after any rough shift.

word count: 8.3k

a/n: here's my entry for the a doctor a day writing challenge!! thank you to @letsgobarbs, @ananonymousaffair and @clubsoft for hosting this event!! my prompt was "You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss." and my color was orange—and i'm really happy with how this turned out!! technically this is my first proper jack abbot fic (though i'm sure it won't be the last), so i hope y'all enjoy ♡♡♡

The soft orange light of a spring sunrise filtered into the room behind your eyelids, and for one hazy, wonderful moment, you drifted in the contentment that only comes from the liminal space between sleeping and waking. You were ensconced in warm blankets and the smell of earth and sunshine, and you wanted to live in that moment as long as possible.

Then, an almost gentle throbbing began behind your temple, a headache blooming to life as you slipped further into waking. Unbidden, memories from the night before flooded into your mind and you had to bite back a pained groan.

You’d had far too much to drink after work. Or, rather, you’d had too many beers for how exhausted you’d been after your particularly long and terrible shift. But you’d been riding high on surviving the day from hell, and it had been a pleasantly warm evening. And Dr. Jack Abbot had been there.

It had felt like some kind of small miracle—to get to share a couple drinks with the med students, doctors and nurses in the park across the street from the hospital. You hadn’t been the only one laughing too loudly, as if grasping onto the relief of making it through the day, because the alternative was sinking into the darkness.

You’d known that if you’d gone home and dragged yourself into your cold, lifeless apartment that you never had time or energy to decorate, you’d have ended up crying yourself to sleep. Instead, you’d accepted the invitation from your attending, Dr. Michael Robinavitch—Dr. Robby—and joined the others for a drink.

The amber glow of the lamplights lining the paths of the park had been welcoming beacons, and you’d felt the weight of the world slowly slip from your shoulders as you accepted a can of beer, letting the conversation flow around you. As everyone talked, sharing stories from the day, things hadn’t seemed so bleak.

So you’d lingered in the park long after you should’ve gone home, drinking far more than you should’ve considering how exhausted you were, and letting your eyes drift to Dr. Jack Abbot far more often than they should’ve. You couldn’t help it, though. You’d been drawn to the night shift attending ever since you met him at the start of your first day shift.

You were Dr. Robby’s resident, and he was a capable mentor—firm when he needed to be, and kind when you needed it. You’d gained a lot working with Dr. Robby on the day shift, and you’d become a much better doctor learning from him and everyone else in the ER.

Yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Dr. Jack Abbot. You’d always admired the older, silver-haired doctor, the way he carried himself, coming in as your shift was ending and taking over easily. You always knew your patients were in good hands when you gave them over to Dr. Abbot.

He was so competent and capable, and always so calm, even on the busiest nights in the ER. He was like a rock in the middle of a raging, tumultuous storm. Strong and steady. Safe.

And you wanted to climb Dr. Jack Abbot like a tree, to live in his strong and steady embrace, to allow his presence to keep you safe and sane. You wanted him to be your safe harbor—and to be his, too. You wanted to be the person he’d come home to and slip into bed with, and trust to keep him safe and sane.

In the park, under the amber lamplights, your thoughts had drifted to the idea of sliding into bed with Dr. Jack Abbot, curling your body around his beneath warm blankets, and sleeping the entire day away as you lay entwined together. You imagined waking up together, warm skin and gentle hands, soft kisses giving way to something more…

You hadn’t realized you were staring until light brown eyes caught yours and you’d startled back into the moment, heat rising up your neck and blooming in your cheeks. You’d known you should look away, but you hadn’t been able to, not with the electric tension thrumming between the two of you like a livewire.

Dr. Jack Abbot was as calm as ever, holding your gaze for a long moment.

His eyes were dark and inscrutable in the dim light of the park, but you noticed a glint in his gaze that made the breath catch in your throat. There was something in his eyes, something like wanting, which had your heart beating harder against your sternum and warmth pulsing between your thighs.

Then he’d tipped his can of beer toward you and dipped his head, giving you a nod while a smirk flickered at the edges of his mouth. Something in you had fluttered, low in your belly, and you’d wanted to squirm. You’d wanted to throw yourself at him, hold his face in your hands and kiss him until you were both panting and needy.

Instead you’d looked away and taken a sip of your beer, wondering if you’d imagined the warmth and hunger hidden deep in his gaze. You’d told yourself it must’ve been a trick of the dark amber light, the result of too much exhaustion, too much beer, and too many dirty thoughts about Dr. Jack Abbot.

The night had gone on, time unspooling slowly and leisurely the way it never did in the ER, and you’d drifted along on the current of conversation ebbing and flowing around you.

You’d tried not to look back at Dr. Abbot too often, but couldn’t help yourself. More often than not, though, you found him already looking at you, that ghost of a smile on his face and that look in his eye that had you questioning your sanity.

At some point, you’d ended up on a bench between Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot, listening as the men commended the work you’d done in the ER that evening. Their words of praise had flitted in one ear and out the other, even as you nodded along like you were paying close attention.

The smile on your face had everything to do with their praise, and nothing to do with Dr. Abbot’s warmth seeping into your side—at least, that’s what you’d told yourself.

Your memories got hazier from there. You remembered your cheek falling against Dr. Abbot’s shoulder, and staying there as your eyes slid closed; deft fingers gently prying the half-empty can from your hands; the smell of beer and something earthy, like moss; the deep rumbling of Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot’s voices as they talked over your head.

You hadn’t blacked out—you hadn’t had that much to drink—but the rest of the evening was too hazy to make out in your mind. You’d been so tired from working a 15-hour shift, and the alchohol had only exacerbated your exhaustion, leaving you to fall asleep on Dr. Abbot’s shoulder.

You remembered breathing in the smell of him, an earthy scent that reminded you of hiking in the woods on a bright, sunny day. It was the same scent you were surrounded by in the morning light, your eyes still stubbornly closed as a headache throbbed behind your temple.

Rolling over and pressing your face into your pillow, you took a deep breath. The fabric smelled so much like Dr. Jack Abbot that it made your head spin with confusion.

Even as your mind reeled, your body responded to the scent of him, the memory of his caramel brown eyes. You could perfectly picture the way his freckled arms flexed when he crossed them, his t-shirt sleeves hugging his biceps lovingly—the way you wanted to.

Heat cascaded gently down from the crown of your head, coasting down your spine and pooling between your thighs. Even with the slight edge of a hangover at the periphery of your mind, you couldn’t help the way your body yearned for the ER’s night shift attending, wanting him so badly it ached.

Your heart and your body wanted Dr. Jack Abbot. You wanted the older doctor who could be your rock, your light in the darkness, your safe harbor. And neither your heart nor your body would settle for anything less.

Your fingers were just beginning to slip down your stomach, trailing toward the needy, throbbing place between your thighs, when the soft click of a door opening sounded beyond the bed. Your eyes flew open for the first time that morning and, for one disorienting moment, you had no idea where you were.

The orange light of dawn was familiar enough, but the bedsheets and pillows looked nothing like your own. Flipping onto your back and sitting up quickly, you ignored the annoying pang of your headache to peer toward the door.

A sigh of relief gusted from your lips when you found Dr. Jack Abbot framed in the doorway, his brow creased with concern as he raked his eyes over you, as if checking for injury or illness.

You took the moment to look around the room, taking in the comfortable, masculine decor. Warm wooden furniture occupied the space, with plants positioned around the room in places that you were sure got the most light. A thriving monstera sat in a pot beside the dresser, a goldfish in a glass bowl on top of the wooden ledge.

On the floor next to the open door, there was a camouflage backpack, the only thing that appeared to be out of place. You recognized that backpack as the one Dr. Abbot always wore on his way into work.

Suddenly, your sleep hazy brain caught up and you realized you were in Dr. Abbot’s apartment—you were in his bedroom. In his bed.

The soft sheets of Dr. Abbot’s bed slid against your bare legs as you brought them up to your chest, his warm, orange duvet draped around your waist. It was the same color as the sunrise that lay beyond the windows, which were half covered in blackout curtains, like he wasn’t sure which way you’d prefer them.

It was all—all of it—almost too much for your mind to process. The headache behind your temples pounded a little harder as your body caught up to your sudden change of position, and you winced.

The expression of pain on your face seemed to spur Dr. Abbot into moving.

“You’re up,” he said, his voice low and soft like he was trying not to startle you. He padded to the bedside table beside you and set down a glass of water. “Do you remember how you got here?” he asked in that same tone, which you recognized as the one he used as patients.

You frowned as you watched Dr. Abbot open a bottle of aspirin and shake two pills into his hand. You tried to think of an answer that didn’t make you seem like a silly lightweight of a resident as you plucked the medecine from his palm when he held it out to you.

A shiver raced down your spine when your fingertips brushed Dr. Abbot’s warm, calloused skin, delightful tingles dancing along your nerves. You attempted to hide your reaction in a shake of your head, answering his question silently. But you couldn’t hide the way your shoulders trembled, so you busied yourself with taking the pills.

Thankfully, your hand was steady as you reached for the glass on the bedside table and swallowed the aspirin with a gulp of water. The cool water felt like salvation to your parched throat, and you ended up drinking the whole glass before you could even think to stop yourself.

When you were done, your found Dr. Abbot watching you, a hint of a pleased smile in the twist of his lips and pride in the glint of his gaze. You had the wild thought that if he looked at all his patients that way, you understood why his satisfaction scores were so high.

He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the movement feeling more deliberate than before. You were grateful when he turned away to set the glass down, because your shoulders trembled with another shiver at the electricity in his light touch.

“You fell asleep in the park,” Dr. Abbot explained in a voice that was endlessly patient and calm as he set the glass down. You noticed your phone beside it on the bedside table, plugged in and charging. “You were so exhausted, we couldn’t send you home on your own. My place was closest.”

Dr. Abbot straightened as he gave his explanation, arms crossing over his chest and staring down at you in a way that made you squirm. He didn’t look disappointed or disapproving, just concerned. And the knowledge that he cared enough to be concerned sent your heart pitter-pattering inside your ribcage.

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dr. Abbot,” you murmured, dropping your gaze to your fingers, which were twisting in the blanket on your lap. “Yesterday was…difficult.”

“Jack, please,” he said, his voice almost imperceptibly softer.

Your eyes flicked up to him, looking at the silver-haired doctor from under your lashes. His smile was wry and your belly gave a happy little swoop—and that was before you heard his next words.

“You’re in my bed, you don’t need to be so formal.”

It was clear that he meant his words as a teasing kind of joke, but they only succeeded in reminding you that you’d woken up in his bed. Alone. Lamentably alone. The warmth between your thighs stoked higher, until his words fully penetrated your mind.

Your gaze drifted to the other side of the bed, which was still made with military precision. It was clear he hadn’t slept there, and you realized that meant he must’ve slept somewhere else…

“Oh god, I’m so sorry for kicking you out of your bed,” you rushed to say, looking back to Jack with wide eyes. “Where did you sleep?”

“I got a couple hours on the couch,” he answered, a little bashfully. He seemed eager to move on from the subject as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You should get some more rest,” he said, unfurling his arms from his chest and reaching for your empty water glass. “Your scrubs are in the wash with mine, they should be done in a bit.”

A memory from the night before surfaced in your mind: Jack standing with his back to you as you swayed on your feet and stripped out of your scrubs—leaving you in only a tank top, bra and panties.

You’d removed your bra and left everything in a heap on the floor before dragging yourself under the covers of his bed, snuggling deep into their warmth and his comforting scent. You were asleep before you’d even heard Jack turn around.

Not only had Dr. Jack Abbot taken you to his home so you would be safe, given up his bed so you’d have somewhere comfortable to sleep, but he was washing your scrubs for you.

There was something about the domesticity of it that pricked at your heart. You could so easily imagine throwing your dirty scrubs into the laundry with a load of Jack’s, washing them together, working side by side to put them away in the room you shared.

You yearned for the life you pictured—and you wanted it with Dr. Jack Abbot.

Before you could think about what you were doing, your hand darted out. Your fingers wrapped around Jack’s wrist as he reached for the water glass on the bedside table. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, strong and steady, if a little fast.

“Stay with me.” You hated how small you sounded, the desperate pleading in your voice, but your fingers wouldn’t let go. Instead, you squeezed his wrist tighter. “Please, Jack.”

For a long moment, long enough that you began to think he’d deny you, Jack just stood there. Half hunched over, his hand reaching past you, he stood and looked at you. His eyes stared deep into yours, his brows pulled together over his light brown gaze.

“Are you sure?”

The question was rough and raspy, like he’d dredged the words up from the very depths of his soul. His eyes were bright and intense as he stared at you, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

The sound of his voice and the weight of his stare sent your heart fluttering, and your thighs squirmed beneath the blankets of his bed. But you weren’t uncomfortable, only eager. You were excited that he hadn’t brushed you off and denied you outright.

“I’m sure,” you said, nodding your head for good measure as you began sliding toward the center of the bed, tugging on Jack’s wrist. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Jack stared into your eyes for a beat longer, then nodded his head. He flipped his hand around in your fingers and squeezed your wrist before pulling away and giving you his back.

You watched the muscles shift and move beneath the white t-shirt Jack wore across his broad shoulders while his hands undid the button and fly of his dark cargo pants. Before your mind could wrap around what he was doing, he was pushing them down, revealing so much more of his pale, freckled skin below the edge of his navy boxer briefs.

Jack shucked off his pants and sat down on the corner of the bed, removing his prosthetic and massaging his leg for a moment while you watched unabashedly, unable to resist the opportunity to look your fill of the doctor you’d thought about for ages.

You wanted to press yourself against his broad back and wrap your arms around him, clinging to his warmth and burying your face between his shoulder blades. You wanted to hold him and take comfort in him, you wanted to be connected to him.

Looking over his shoulder and breaking you from your thoughts, Jack caught your eye and you could see the question in his gaze. His quirked eyebrows were asking again if you were certain you wanted him to join you.

A smile curled the corners of your mouth and instead of answering him with words, you flipped down the corner of the blankets in a clear invitation. He held your gaze for another moment, but when you remained steady and smiling, he pushed himself up and slipped between the sheets.

Immediately, you felt his warmth and you let out a happy little sound while he settled on his back against the pillows—the same ones you’d pressed your face into after you’d woken up. You waited until he’d gotten comfortable, his gaze finding yours.

His light brown eyes, looking like warm caramel in the soft, tangerine light of morning, were a wondrous sight. It was a miracle, the way he looked at you in that moment, letting you see the hesitant hope in his eyes.

Slowly, as if seeking permission with every tiny movement, you slid closer to him. With a small, flickering smile, he lifted his arm, making space for you, and you slipped into it delightedly, making another happy sound.

Your cheek lay pillowed on Jack’s chest, the soft curves of your body pressing into his side. Without questioning the impulse, you slid your leg over Jack’s, hooking it around his thigh and shifting even closer, until you were practically plastered to his body.

Contentment settled heavily around your shoulders, and you took a deep breath, letting Jack’s earthy, sunshiny scent fill your senses and comfort you. As you exhaled, your body softened and you snuggled deeper into the older doctor’s chest.

Jack’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers settling on the bare skin of your arm, and you made another delighted noise. His fingertips trailed lazily up and down your arm, like he was learning the softness of your skin, and he made a rumble in his chest that sounded content.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice even deeper and raspier than you’d ever heard it.

The tenor of Jack’s voice sent little sparks of desire dancing down your spine to settle between your thighs. He wasn’t using the voice he used on his patients anymore, and you couldn’t be happier that you were seeing a new side to him, one you suspected few ever got to see.

“Mhm, sooo comfortable,” you mumbled, hiding an elated grin in his chest.

It was true, you’d never been more comfortable, but you couldn’t seem to ignore the restless need in your body. You squirmed a little against Jack’s side, like you were trying to find an even better position, and all the while enjoying the feeling of his thigh pressing between your legs.

A soft, bitten-off whine squeezed from your throat and you shifted even closer to the older doctor, needing more of him pressed against more of you.

“Jack,” you whimpered, your fingers fisting in his cotton t-shirt while your hips writhed against his side, your body searching for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

“You need something, angel?” Jack asked, a teasing lilt in his voice. When you lifted your head to pout at him, his eyes were hooded, and his mouth was curved into a knowing smirk. “You need some help before you can settle down and sleep?”

The hint of patronizing teasing in his tone was like a drug, making your mind go hazy and soft while your body melted in his strong arms. Your lashes fluttered as you fought to keep your eyes open, biting your lip while heat flooded your cheeks.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded in answer to Jack’s question.

Jack’s eyes dipped to your mouth, the warmth in your face cascading down your body until it settled heavily between your thighs. You could feel yourself growing damp, your nipples hardening and pressing against the thin fabric of your tank top.

But all you could do was stare at Jack’s mouth, framed by grizzled cheeks and freckled skin. How many times had you thought about kissing that mouth? Too many times to count. And you could hardly breathe when it seemed you might finally get to make your dreams come true.

Slowly—oh, so slowly, Jack’s hand came up and cupped your jaw, his head rising from the pillows as you leaned into him at the same time. Your mouths were drawing infinitesimally closer and closer like there was some kind of magnetic pull between them.

He tilted your face until your mouths were aligned, and then your lips brushed his. Sparks zinged through your body and you sucked in a sharp breath at just that little touch, your exhale slipping from your lips in a keening, desperate sound.

Whatever was left of Jack’s self-control seemed to snap, and he crushed his mouth to yours, as if intent on drinking down that needy sound while a hungry groan rumbled in his chest. Another whimper was silenced by his mouth, and you pressed even closer, like you wanted to crawl inside his heart.

Your first kiss with Dr. Jack Abbot was hungry and greedy, with an edge of mutual adoration that made you light-headed.

Jack’s hands on your body were strong and steady, but for the slight tremor in his fingers, his mouth careful and hot as he explored yours. When his tongue licked into your heat, dragging a moan from you, he huffed a pleased sound, angling your face so he could kiss you deeper, more thoroughly.

Your hips rocked against the older doctor’s thigh as you tried to squirm closer, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and clinging to him while you whimpered into his mouth. Jack responded by trailing his hands down your back, curving around your ribs and dragging your body more on top of him.

“Oh god, Jack,” you panted, gasping for air while his mouth trailed kisses down the line of your neck. You tipped your head to the side, giving him more access as your wanton moans filled the room. “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

The confession spilling from your lips had Jack slowing, and even though you were practically on top of him, he eased back into the pillows so he could catch your eye. The light in the room was shifting from a honey orange to a golden yellow, but Jack’s eyes were still bright and warm like caramel as he stared into yours as he spoke.

“You are my heaven, my obsession, my prayer and bliss.”

The depth of emotion in his words, the evidence that he felt the same way you did, brought unexpected tears to your eyes and you cupped his face. His silvery stubble was rough against your palms as you surged forward, capturing his mouth in a rapturous kiss.

“You’re mine, too,” you mumbled against his mouth before pulling away to look at him so he could see the honesty in your gaze. “You’re my calm, my safe harbor, my happiness and heart.”

“Angel.”

The endearment was rough and ragged, an undercurrent of pleading in Jack’s tone as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in. He kissed you harder, stealing the words freely given from your lips and locking them away in his heart—just like you’d done with his.

Emotion swirled in your chest and you nearly sobbed with need at the wet slide of Jack’s tongue between your lips, your mind going hazy as an aching need pulsed between your thighs. A desperate whine built in your throat, your hips squirming clumsily against his thigh.

Jack’s hands trailed down your spine, deviating from their path to slide beneath your tank top and curl around your ribs, his thumbs brushing the soft mounds of your tits. You huffed a needy whimper, feeling him smirk against your mouth, before his hands slid lower, his strong grip guiding your body to writhe against his thick thigh.

Your hips rocked in time with his guided movements, grinding your core against him while you whimpered into his mouth. You were so far gone in a pleasant haze of your desire, that you didn’t pay attention to what you were saying when you whined, “Daddy, please.”

There was the briefest stutter in Jack’s movements, and then his hands gripped you tighter, his thigh pressing deeper between your legs. Against your lips, his mouth curved into an indulgent smirk.

“Please what, angel? Tell daddy what you need.”

The patronizing teasing tone had slipped back into his voice, and it made your core throb between your thighs, a whimper escaping your lips before you could bite it back. It had been a slip of the tongue that you’d called him daddy, but to hear it echoed in his deep, raspy voice was another thing entirely. It was exactly what you needed.

Your fingers gripped his shirt tighter, your body squirming harder in his hands, rolling your hips and grinding against his thigh while you finally responded to his command.

“Need you,” you huffed, as if the answer was obvious.

A gruff chuckle rumbled in Jack’s chest and his hand slid up your back, thumb skimming the curve of your breast so teasingly, your body chased his touch. Arching your spine, you pushed your tits against his chest, but Jack’s hand kept moving. His calloused palm followed the line of your arm until his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist.

Gently, he moved your hand down his front, over his soft belly, until your palm settled against the twitching bulge in his boxer briefs. He felt so thick and heavy already, even though he wasn’t fully hard yet.

“This is what you do to me, angel,” he rasped, breath ghosting over your cheek, his mouth moving against the corner of your lips. “You have me—any time, any way you want.”

Your fingers wrapped around his girth through the soft cotton of his briefs, squeezing him gently and learning the weight of him in your hand. You stroked your palm up his length, thumb swiping over the tip and feeling the wetness of his arousal.

Jack grunted, his hips rising up off the bed to buck into your touch and the movement had his thigh flexing and pressing between your legs. You moaned into his stubbled cheek, the sound mingling with his heavy breaths as you stroked his length and rocked against him.

“Jack.” His name was a gasp for salvation, a desperate plea on your lips that had him shuddering under your touch.

“Nuh uh, angel,” Jack chided in an endlessly warm tone, his smile pressed into the corner of your mouth. “Don’t stop calling me daddy now—not when it makes me so fucking hot for you.”

“Daddy, daddy,” you babbled breathlessly into his scruffy cheek, your desire thick in your veins at the teasing command in his tone. “I need you inside me, please—please, I need you so bad,” you whined, your fingers squeezing his cock through his boxers.

“Christ, you’ve got me, angel, just take me out,” Jack rumbled, his hips rocking up against your palm while you worked his length.

Not needing more invitation than that, you reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. He was still hardening and thickening beneath your touch, the velvety soft skin growing taut the tighter you stroked him.

Jack groaned at your pleasurable attention, and the sound went straight to the slit between your thighs, your arousal leaking into your panties. You were so drenched, you were certain he could feel it against his thigh, but when you rubbed your pussy against him, he only grunted, his cock twitching in your hand.

“Want more,” you keened against Jack’s stubbled cheek, both your heads tilted to stare down your bodies and watch your hand pump adoringly up and down his length while he grew harder beneath your touch. “Want your fat cock sinking into my needy pussy, daddy, please.”

“Fuuuck,” Jack groaned, the edge in his voice almost pained. His hips bucked off the bed as he fucked into your fist, precum beading at the tip and leaking down the side, slicking your strokes. “Keep talking like that, angel, and I’m gonna blow my load before I even get inside you.”

“But daddy, we can’t have that,” you whined teasingly, laughing softly as you turned your face and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then you were pulling away only long enough to shove your panties down over your ass and thighs, kicking them off into the sheets at the base of the bed. Once done, your hand wrapped around Jack’s cock again, greedy for the feel of him, loving the weight and warmth against your palm.

Sliding your leg over both of Jack’s thighs, you moved your body until you were straddling his hips, your hand guiding his cock to press between the slippery folds of your slit. Your wet pussy pressing down on the length of his thick cock, your clit bumping against the ridged veins lining the shaft, had both of you moaning.

Jack cupped your jaw and guided your face back to his, his tongue sliding along your plump lower lip and licking lovingly into your mouth. He kissed you deeply, devouring your sounds of pleasure and groaning his own satisfaction like he’d never tasted anything as sweet—and he couldn’t get enough.

His other hand slid beneath the soft cotton of your tank top, his thumb brushing over your nipple and teasing the sensitive bud until it tightened into an achy, needy peak. Heat and desire pooled between your thighs, leaking from your pussy and coating his length as you rocked against him.

You broke apart only long enough for Jack to tear off your top, tossing it somewhere in the room you didn’t see because you were too busy slanting your mouth to his and greedily kissing him again. Your lips were swollen from kissing, but you couldn’t stop, you didn’t think you’d ever get enough of him.

It felt like the opposite of standing in the calm center of a storm—your body was a riot of pleasure and sensation, desperately rocking against the man between your thighs while the bedroom around you remained undisturbed, the light shifting and glowing brighter as the sun rose outside.

And Dr. Jack Abbot was still your rock, your tether to the earth, grounding you with the rasp of his calloused hands over your soft curves, his expert fingers plucking and stroking your nipples while his hips lifted from the mattress to grind his hard cock into your cunt.

You were so wet for him, so empty and aching, your pussy pulsed against his hard length, your desire coating him from root to tip. A sob was lodged in your throat, your hips working against his thick shaft in increasingly desperate movements.

“Jack,” you cried, the sound pitiful even to your own ears. You needed him, you needed him more than you needed your next breath. And you knew he could hear it in the ragged edge of your voice as you sobbed his name.

Thankfully for you, Jack Abbot was just as much of a competent, capable man as he was a doctor. He heard the anxious wanting in your tone and knew exactly how to handle you. He stroked his hands soothingly over your ribs and down your spine, cooing soft sounds of comfort against your cheek.

“Take me inside your sweet pussy, angel,” Jack rumbled, the steel of his order softened in the honeyed warmth of his tone. “Let me feel you—need to feel your heat hugging my cock.”

“Daddy, yesss, please, can I?” you babbled, burying your face in the weathered skin of his neck. His scent was stronger there, and you huffed greedily, breathing in the smell of sunshine and earth on his skin. It filled your head with amber clouds of comfort.

“Go on, angel, you’ve got this,” Jack murmured encouragingly, the calm warmth of his voice settling around your shoulders like the coziest blanket. He pressed a kiss to the pulse at the base of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed on a exhale, shifting your hips until the tip of his cock caught at the entrance of your leaking hole. Sitting up on your knees, you lifted your hips and guided his cock to line up with your pussy. Then you pressed down determinedly.

A breathy cry burst from your lips when the fat tip of Jack’s cock pushed into your tight channel. He was thicker than anyone you’d taken before, and your heart fluttered against your ribcage in panic, the devastating thought occurring to you that he might not be able to fit.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re so big, Jack, I don’t know if I can—”

“You can take me,” Jack said firmly, interrupting your panicked babbling as he sat up to face you. He caught your wobbling chin in his steady hand and guided your eyes to look at him. “You can take me, angel,” he repeated, ducking his head and looking at you with confidence and pride written in the lines of his face. “You can do this.”

The belief Jack had in you—even about something as base as taking his cock—was enough to have tears gathering in your eyes. Your lower lip quivered and instead of giving in to the spiraling thoughts about how no one else had ever believed in you the way Jack did in that moment, you surged forward and kissed him.

You kissed Jack Abbot the way you’d never kissed anyone before. You kissed him like he was your past, present and future, like he was the calm in the storm of your life. You kissed him like he was your safe harbor, the steady dock under your feet and the man who was your home.

All the while, Jack kissed you in return, meeting the fervor of your lips with an adoration that had your heart singing in your chest. With every sweep of his tongue and nip of his teeth and pull of his mouth, he exulted your existence and promised devotion for as long as you’d have him.

“Jack,” you gasped his name, wrenching your bee-stung lips from his as you pressed down further on his cock, incandescent pleasure radiating from where you were joined through the rest of your body.

“Feel so good, angel,” Jack rasped, kissing his way down the curve of your throat and past your collarbone. His mouth left goose bumps in its wake as he trailed kisses down to your chest. “More, angel, you can take more.”

Jack’s words were muffled in the plush curves of your tits, cupped in his big, strong hands. His head ducked down until his tongue was lapping at their tightened peaks, torturing the sensitive buds while your head tipped back and you moaned. He sucked one of your soft tits into his mouth, tongue swirling teasingly around your nipple.

Your back bowed and you thrust your chest into Jack’s face, your fingers sliding into his curly silver hair and clutching his head tight. A cry of pleasure tumbled from your lips, the sound devolving into a filthy moan as you sank down on his cock, taking half of him inside you.

“God, daddy, you’re breaking me in half,” you whined, your hips writhing in his lap, lifting up and pushing back down for more of the stinging stretch. The pleasure bordered on pain, but it felt so good, you couldn’t get enough, pressing even further down on his hard cock.

Jack chuckled, pulling away from your chest with an obscene wet sound, your tit falling from his mouth while he looked up at you. His brown eyes were sparkling with mischief in the bright daylight.

“You love it, don’t you, angel?” Jack teased, in the warm, patronizing tone that sent your belly swooping. “You love the feeling of my fat cock sinking deep into your pretty cunt, splitting you open and spreading you so wide, huh?”

The filthy words went straight to your pussy, your tight hole pulsing around Jack’s hard shaft while you nodded your agreement. “Yuh huh, I love it, daddy, it’s sooo good,” you babbled, your fingers idly twisting in Jack’s hair as you clung to him and pressed your hips down on his thick length.

A small grin pulled across his face and he caught your eye, wrapping his lips around your other nipple and sucking hard enough to wring a squeal from your mouth. Your body bucked on his lap, and it was only his sinewy arm around your lower back that kept you anchored on top of him.

Spreading your knees wider on the bed, you pressed down hard on Jack’s cock until you were fully seated. The full, fat length of him was buried inside you to the hilt, stretching your tight cunt and punching the breath from your lungs.

A surprised yelp slipped from your lips at the sudden, overwhelming fullness, but the sound soon dissolved into a deep, dirty moan when the slight sting gave way to scorching pleasure. Your body melted against Jack, his head lifting from your tits to take in the look of ecstasy on your face.

“There we go,” Jack rasped, one of his hands pressing to your lower back, keeping your bodies locked together and still for a moment. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” he teased, capturing your lips in a playful, nipping kiss.

You huffed a laugh against his mouth, and shook your head good-naturedly, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you clung to your strong, steady doctor.

Jack pressed his forehead to yours, his voice lowering to deep rasp. “You’re taking me so good, angel—you’re such a good girl.” He brushed a kiss to the apple of your cheek, and it was only then that you realized you were smiling, pleased by his praise. “Are you ok, does it feel good?”

“Mm, yes, daddy,” you murmured, sinking into the feeling of having Jack’s thick cock seated inside you, pleasure pulsing from where you were joined. “Feel so good filled up with your cock—you fill me up so good, I wanna stay right here forever.”

Your mumbled words were half lost to a moan as you rocked your hips gently, feeling his shaft drag ever so gently against your inner walls. It was intense and wonderful and felt so good, you couldn’t stop.

Jack’s hands fell to your hips, and he gripped your soft curves, helping you grind down on him.

“That’s it, just like that,” he urged, his own hips rolling beneath yours, bringing your bodies together in a delicious push and pull that wrenched a pleasured grunt from him. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight and you feel so fucking good—so wet and warm. You’re making daddy feel so good.”

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you chanted, lips parted and breaths panting against Jack’s grizzled cheeks as you bounced on his lap. Still, you wanted more, and you knew Jack would give it to you, all you had to do was ask. “Will you suck on my tits, daddy, please?”

“Fuck, of course, angel,” Jack rumbled in response, his head ducking down, mouth latching onto a nipple and sucking until your hips gave a reflexive kick. “Ya like it when daddy sucks on your tits, angel? Your perfect fucking tits.”

His words were muttered, almost like he was talking to himself, and he didn’t wait for an answer before burying his face in your soft mounds. His lips and tongue worshiped your tits, showing you just how much he adored your body.

“Yes, yes, daddy, I love it,” you cried, rocking your hips faster, rolling them in a steady rhythm that had your clit grinding against the base of him. The pleasure was building fast in your core, until you were suddenly on the precipice. “Please, Jack, ‘m so close.”

“Come on my cock, angel—fuck, I wanna feel you clench around my fat cock while you’re screaming my name,” Jack rambled in between wet, suckling kisses to your soft flesh. His hands cupped your tits, thumbs stroking maddeningly over your nipples before pinching them roughly. “C’mon angel, give it to me, show me what a good girl you are and come for me.”

“Jack—JACK!”

His words and his cock and his hands and his perfect mouth sent you tumbling over the edge of your release, making you come on his cock. Your hips worked furiously as pleasure crashed over you in waves, helpless moans and cries spilling from your lips while Jack held you tight and thrust into you from below.

He was hot and hard and everywhere, his thick cock still deep inside you, his arms wrapped around you, his chest and belly pressed against your soft curves. He was the calm in the center of the storm that was your release, and he carried you through it, whispering words of praise in your ear.

You were still coming down from the height of your pleasure when Jack rolled you onto your back, his hips sliding between your thighs and thrusting his cock deep into you. It felt so good that you moaned loudly, your arms and legs wrapping around Jack and holding him as he fucked you, chasing his release.

“You’re such a good girl, angel, taking me so well and coming on my cock like such a pretty slut. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you, never felt anything as perfect. You’re perfect, angel, so fucking perfect—fuck.”

Jack bit off a groan and pulled his cock from your tight cunt. He stroked himself to completion, his come spilling across your belly and mound between your thighs while you watched pleasure contort his face.

He let out a fierce grunt, his shoulders shaking and arms shuddering as he hunched over your body. The hand not wrapped around his cock was gripping your thigh tightly—like, for once, you were his rock, his anchor tethering him to earth.

Bathed in the bright golden light of morning filtering into his bedroom, he looked magnificent, and you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed Jack’s face and pulled him down for a kiss, tasting the pleasure from his tongue.

His knuckles brushed your bare skin, more come leaking from the tip of his cock and onto your belly. He was covering you in ropes of his come, but you didn’t care, not when his lips were moving against yours in a sensual slide, his tongue slipping possessively into your mouth and groaning his pleasure.

With a final pull on his cock and one last kiss, Jack rolled off you, collapsing onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes while his chest heaved. He was still wearing his t-shirt and you pouted at it.

Still gasping for your own breaths, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of Jack’s shirt and raked your nails through the hair dusting his belly. He let out a shuddering breath, his cock twitching as another drop of come leaked from the tip of his softening length, seeping into the cotton shirt.

If you weren’t so limp and sated—and you weren’t afraid of making a mess of Jack’s bed with the come slowly drying on your skin—you would’ve leaned over and licked him clean. But that could wait for another time, when you both weren’t so tired.

Jack settled a hand on the back of yours, stilling your fingers where they were softly stroking his belly and giving them an affectionate squeeze.

After a few moments of catching your breath together, he heaved himself up and reached an arm over his shoulders to yank off his shirt. He rolled onto his side and used the soft shirt to clean you up while you giggled happily.

“You good, angel?” Jack asked, his face hovering above yours, dark caramel eyes searching your expression for anything amiss.

A soft smile curved your mouth and you reached up to cup Jack’s grizzled cheeks, thumbs stroking over his skin. “I’m good,” you murmured, lifting up and pressing a sweet kiss to his mouth. “Thanks for pulling out—I can’t believe I forgot to tell you to use a condom.”

Jack made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, but it was softened by the teasing smile on his face. “Not very responsible of you, doctor,” he said in a deep, playful rasp that had you laughing.

“Don’t act like you didn’t forget, too, Dr. Abbot,” you retorted, batting good-naturedly at his shoulder. He laughed along with you before sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.

“Do you need anything while I’m up?” he asked, putting on his prosthetic then standing and tossing his soiled shirt into the laundry. He paused at the foot of the bed to wait for your answer.

Lifting your arms above your head, you stretched languidly in the warm sheets of Dr. Jack Abbot’s bed, smiling like the cat that got the cream as you reveled in the feeling of him watching you unabashedly.

It felt like warm, orange flames of flickering heat licking at your skin, his eyes bright and intense in the morning light as they trailed over every inch of your bare skin and naked curves. That adoration you’d felt in his arms was clear in the gleam of his eye and the slightly awed smile on his face.

“I could use some more water,” you finally answered, exhaling deeply as you relaxed and settled into the bed. You were eager for him to return so he’d wrap you back up in his arms, and you could snuggle together.

“You got it,” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he wrenched his eyes away from you and seemed to force himself to walk out of the room.

While he was gone, you got up and went to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up a little better. When you were washing your hands, you heard a knock on the door before it opened a crack.

“Got you a shirt if you want something to wear,” Jack said, opening the door only enough for his arm to slip in. He hung a t-shirt on the hook by the door and then closed it again.

With a smile, you dried your hands and slid the soft cotton shirt over your head. It was plain white like the one he’d had on earlier, but clean, and it smelled like his earthy, sunshiny scent. You took a deep breath of the fabric, your nipples tightening and pushing against the fabric as warm pleasure flooded you down to your toes.

But then you remembered the man himself was waiting for you, and you eagerly exited the bathroom, finding Jack reclined against the pillows on his bed. He was sipping a glass of water, another full glass on the bedside table for you. You picked it up and drank half before setting it back down and climbing into bed.

Without hesitation, Jack lifted his arm and you slid into the space next to him. The two of you settled beneath the blankets together, your head laying on Jack’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Your fingers idly traced the veins and freckles of his other arm, brushing through the hair dusted across his skin.

Outside, the soft, suffused orange light of dawn had given way to the bright, blinding light of morning. The sun was still climbing higher in the sky, but you and Jack needed rest.

So your bodies relaxed together, laying entwined in each other’s arms. You drifted to sleep in the calm, still bedroom while the rest of Pittsburgh carried on in the world beyond.

From that day on, Dr. Jack Abbot was your rock, your calm in the storm, the man whose arms were your home. He was your safe harbor. And you were his.

146 notes · View notes

ririright · 19 hours ago

Text

“Happy Mother’s Day”

Husband! Hayden x Wife Reader (Headcannons)

❤︎ Hayden’s Secret Planning

He starts planning weeks in advance, sneakily asking your son what he thinks you’d like or what you’ve mentioned wanting lately.

Makes a secret Pinterest board (with the username “SocksAndSmiles”) full of gift ideas, recipes, and cute surprises.

Even asks the animals on the farm for their opinions while feeding them. “Alright, Daisy, think she’d like breakfast in bed or a picnic by the pond?”

❤︎ Early Morning Surprise

You wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of hushed whispers outside the bedroom door.

Hayden walks in, balancing a breakfast tray with pancakes (heart-shaped, because of course), scrambled eggs, and a little vase with freshly picked wildflowers.

Your son follows behind, carrying a handmade card with his wobbly handwriting and crayon drawings of your family.

“Happy Mother’s Day, sweetheart,” Hayden says with that soft, boyish grin, leaning down to kiss you.

❤︎ Handmade Gifts from the Heart

Hayden’s not just about store-bought presents. He makes you a handcrafted photo frame from reclaimed wood, painting it with a soft rustic finish and filling it with a candid picture of you with your son by the pond.

Your son, with Hayden’s help, paints little animal footprints on the back, with the words “We love you, Mama.”

Sometimes he writes you a sweet, heartfelt letter telling you how grateful he is for everything you do. His words are full of admiration and love, and he gets embarrassed when you cry reading it.

❤︎ A Day of No Chores

You’re not allowed to lift a finger. Hayden insists.

He takes over all your usual tasks—feeding the animals, cleaning the house, even taking over any little messes the kids make.

If you try to help, he swoops in and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. “Nope, you’re on a break today, Mrs. Christensen.”

❤︎ A Special Farm Adventure

If the weather’s nice, Hayden suggests a picnic by the pond. He spreads out a big, cozy blanket, and your son brings his favorite stuffed animal to join the picnic.

You watch as Hayden skips rocks across the water with your son, and your heart melts at how good he is with him.

He brings a tiny Bluetooth speaker, plays your favorite soft songs, and you all just relax together, the farm animals wandering around nearby.

❤︎ The “Mommy Spa” Experience

In the evening, he draws you a warm bath, filling it with rose petals and a lavender-scented bubble bath.

He even lights candles (which he immediately worries are a fire hazard, so he keeps checking them).

When you step out, he’s already set up the bedroom with fresh sheets, and there’s a soft robe waiting for you.

He gives you a foot rub while you both watch one of your favorite movies.

❤︎ Quiet, Sweet Moments

You wake up from a nap to find your son curled up beside you, and Hayden standing in the doorway, just watching with a soft smile.

Later, when your son has gone to bed, Hayden pulls you into his lap, kisses your shoulder, and whispers, “You’re an amazing mom, you know that?”

He loves tracing gentle patterns on your back while you two talk about how lucky you are to have each other.

❤︎ The Mother’s Day Cake Disaster (Almost)

Hayden and your son try to bake you a cake, but there’s flour everywhere, and the batter somehow ends up on the ceiling.

You hear a loud “Uh-oh…” from the kitchen and walk in to see them both covered in flour, Hayden looking like a guilty golden retriever.

He’s ready to apologize, but you just laugh and join them, and the three of you end up having a messy, flour-filled hug.

The cake is a little lopsided, but it tastes amazing, and they both beam with pride when you take a bite.

❤︎ Your Own Personal Concert

After your son goes to bed, Hayden sits at his piano and serenades you in the living room.

He sings your favorite love song, his voice a little shy at first but growing more confident as he sees your soft smile.

You curl up against him, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart. I hope you know that.”

❤︎ Late-Night Pillow Talk

At the end of the day, you’re both lying in bed, and he’s tracing little circles on your shoulder.

“You know, I don’t tell you enough… You’re the reason this family is as happy as it is. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

You lean in and kiss him, and he smiles against your lips.

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby. I love you more than I could ever put into words.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen headcannons #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen fanfiction #hay

56 notes · View notes

serapharua · 17 hours ago

Text

୨୧ 一 HYBRID ENHA’S IDEAL HYBRID PARTNER

enhypen 0T7 — GENRE : hybrid au imagines headcanon — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING none — REQUESTED : yes ☆ — enha masterlist

note : AAAAAAAAAAAA

HEESEUNG :

I genuinely think a bunny hybrid would be an ideal match for Heeseung because their personalities would complement each other in the most natural, fulfilling way. Bunny hybrids are gentle, soft-spoken, and incredibly thoughtful, traits that align beautifully with Heeseung’s calm, introspective nature. He’s someone who values patience, emotional maturity, and quiet strength, and a bunny hybrid embodies all of that without being overwhelming.

What makes this pairing even more fitting is how bunny hybrids tend to be independent and hardworking beneath their innocent appearance. Heeseung is deeply attracted to people who have personal goals and chase them with quiet determination, he’d admire that quiet resilience and feel motivated by it. Bunny hybrids are also known for being clean, well-groomed, and attentive to their well-being, which checks a major box for Heeseung, who values hygiene and personal care.

Even aesthetically, a bunny hybrid would align with what Heeseung seems to prefer: a partner who dresses simply but takes pride in their appearance, has a bright aura, and carries themselves with quiet charm. The dynamic between them would be subtle but powerful, gentle affection, mutual respect, and a sense of peace when they’re together. It’s the kind of love that grows slowly but lasts a lifetime.

JAY :

For Jay, I think a cat hybrid would be a perfect match. Cat hybrids are naturally elegant, independent, and quietly confident — all traits that align with what Jay seems to be drawn to in a partner. He values subtle beauty, personal style, and someone who’s emotionally mature but still knows how to be playful, and that duality is something cat hybrids embody effortlessly.

Since Jay prefers to take his time getting to know someone before diving into a relationship, a cat hybrid’s selective affection and careful trust-building would resonate with him deeply. He doesn’t want surface-level romance — he craves passion, mental stimulation, and stability — and a cat hybrid can offer that in a way that feels both intimate and exciting. Their quiet presence and intelligence would keep conversations meaningful, while their occasional playfulness would match Jay’s fun, talkative side.

Whether they’re enjoying a quiet café date or spending a rainy afternoon indoors, I think the chemistry between Jay and a cat hybrid would be undeniable — sophisticated, a little mysterious, and deeply magnetic.

(although a part of me is curious how he would be with a wolf hybrid, I feel like it would be very It Will Come Back by Hozier.)

JAKE :

I feel like Jake would really be drawn to a black panther hybrid. There’s something about their quiet intensity, strength, and mystery that I think would pull him in instantly. Panthers have this magnetic, intimidating aura, exactly the kind of presence Jake finds attractive. He seems like the type to fall for someone who’s hard to read at first, someone who gives off that cold or aloof vibe but is secretly super protective and loyal underneath. That dynamic would definitely keep him intrigued.

Black panther hybrids are also independent and self-sufficient, which aligns perfectly with Jake’s need for freedom and individuality in a relationship. He wouldn’t want someone clingy, he’d want someone who has their own goals, their own space, and can grow alongside him. At the same time, once a panther hybrid trusts someone, they’re deeply loyal and quietly affectionate, which Jake would really value in a long-term relationship.

Plus, panther hybrids are naturally graceful, sensual, and confident without trying too hard. That subtle kind of sexiness, the intense stare, the resting bitch face, the dark clothes, maybe even a turtleneck with smudged eyeliner vibe? Totally his type. I think Jake would be so captivated by that powerful energy, especially paired with someone who’s creative, open-minded, and emotionally deep.

A black panther hybrid just fits everything Jake seems to be looking for, someone who’s mysterious but grounded, fiercely loyal but independent, soft beneath a tough exterior. I can just imagine him falling hard for someone like that.

SUNGHOON :

For Sunghoon, I genuinely think a swan hybrid would be the perfect match. Swan hybrids embody the grace, elegance, and deep emotional connection that Sunghoon desires in a relationship. Their strong sense of loyalty and commitment aligns perfectly with his longing for a long-term relationship filled with passion and mutual respect. Swans are known for forming lifelong bonds, which reflects Sunghoon’s desire for a partner who is just as invested and willing to grow alongside him.

A swan hybrid’s nurturing nature and quiet strength would complement Sunghoon’s own intensity. They can be affectionate and romantic, showing their love openly, while also being firm enough to handle Sunghoon’s intense side without feeling overwhelmed. This balance of softness and strength would allow them to connect on a deeper level, creating that special bond he wants to have with someone who truly understands him.

Additionally, a swan hybrid’s beauty and powerful presence would match Sunghoon’s own classic style and his appreciation for someone who stands out. Their ambition and drive would also align with his own, creating a partnership where both are equally goal-oriented, yet their shared love and commitment would always be the center of their connection. The nurturing, protective nature of the swan hybrid would make Sunghoon feel cared for while still giving him the space to pursue his personal ambitions.

SUNOO :

For Sunoo, I think a raven hybrid would suit him perfectly. Raven hybrids are often associated with mystery, intelligence, and transformation, which aligns with Sunoo’s attraction to someone with a darker, more enigmatic aura. Their strong presence and striking features would catch his attention, as they share that intriguing and powerful vibe he’s drawn to.

A raven hybrid also embodies a mature, independent energy, someone who’s been through their own experiences and gained wisdom. This resonates with Sunoo’s need for a partner who is emotionally strong and has a sense of purpose in life. Their calm yet intense demeanor would provide the balance Sunoo seeks in a relationship, and their ability to navigate life’s challenges would give him the stability and guidance he desires.

The raven hybrid’s intelligence and deep emotional insight would make them a perfect match for Sunoo’s need for meaningful communication. They would have the kind of connection where they could talk for hours about anything, sharing their perspectives and learning from each other. The raven’s intuitive nature would also allow them to understand Sunoo’s deeper emotions, helping him trust himself and feel more confident in his own strength.

JUNGWON :

For Jungwon, I think a fox hybrid would be an ideal match. Fox hybrids are known for their cunning charm, confidence, and bold flirtation, all things Jungwon would find irresistible. They carry an air of mystery that makes them magnetic and hard to ignore, fitting that “unapproachable but attractive” energy he’s drawn to. With striking eyes and sleek, well-groomed features, a fox hybrid would embody the aesthetic appeal Jungwon can’t look away from, especially if they flaunt it with playful pride.

Personality-wise, a fox hybrid is clever, quick-witted, and never afraid to tease or challenge someone they like, which is exactly what Jungwon needs. His Aries Venus means he thrives on a little competition in love, someone who can match his passion and spark, not just follow it. A fox’s flirtatious, confident demeanor would fuel his fire and keep him engaged, while their independence ensures they don’t rely on him for everything.

They’d be fun, fearless, and just mischievous enough to keep him on his toes, never letting him get too full of himself. At the same time, their easygoing nature and lighthearted humor would match his own youthful charm, creating a dynamic, electric connection that keeps both of them hooked.

NIKI :

For Niki, I think a bat hybrid would be an ideal match. Bat hybrids carry that quiet, enigmatic energy Niki finds so captivating. They’re the type to stand on the outskirts of a crowd, lost in their own thoughts, headphones in, eyes scanning the world like they’re always observing, but rarely revealing. This matches his attraction to people who seem detached and mysterious, people who don’t let just anyone in. A bat hybrid might seem a little aloof or distant at first, but that’s exactly what draws Niki in, the urge to know what lies beyond the quiet.

He’d be completely intrigued by their subtle beauty and the soft romantic nature they reserve for only the closest people in their lives. And once he gets close? That’s where the magic happens. Bat hybrids are known to form deep bonds once they feel safe, which mirrors Niki’s slow but intense way of loving. They wouldn’t rush things. They’d take their time peeling back layers, mirroring his pace perfectly until they both feel like they’ve found something rare, something sacred.

They’re also highly intuitive, often sensing what someone needs without words, and Niki would love how effortlessly they make him feel seen and understood. Even if they’re quiet, their emotional depth runs deep. Bat hybrids are affectionate in a secret, behind-closed-doors kind of way, and Niki would absolutely adore being the one person they choose to show that side to.

Plus, they’d get his need for space without feeling neglected, and return that same loyalty tenfold. For Niki, love isn’t about loud declarations, it’s about closeness that feels like an extension of himself. That “soulmate or nothing” energy. A bat hybrid would meet him there completely.

Word count : 1588 | serapharua, 2025.

45 notes · View notes

lovegreenie · 4 hours ago

Text

Check-Out | NSH Riki | 西村力

INTERLUDE

synopsis. Riki’s favorite hobby is shopping, and the only thing that can top that is shopping with (or for) you

pairing. idol bf! riki X fem! reader

essie’s ✉��. Currently cooking something up!! a few somethings at that:) in the meantime, have a thread of cute thoughts about shopping with Riki<3 thankies again to dear friend @sweethoneyjays for beta reading<3

wc. 1.1k

ꔛ Riki is the type to buy you something when he notices you’ve been looking at it for a while. He knows you want it, but can’t or won’t buy it for whatever reason you may have, and he also knows you’re too shy to ask him for it. So what does Riki do? He buys it for you without saying anything; he knows you’d put up a fight if he offered.

“Riks,” You pout, “Thank you, really; but I don’t want you wasting your money.”

“Baby it’s not a waste of money if I’m spending it on you. Okay?” He says reassuringly, with a gentle smile to match, as he clasps your new bracelet around your wrist.

ꔛ Though he’d never admit it, Riki is an absolute sucker for matching items. It could be clothes, jewelry, knick knacks; it doesn’t matter. You could show off a new hoodie you just bought, and he’d go back inside the store just to get the same one in a bigger size.

“Wha- copycat.” You accuse half-heartedly. Yesterday you showed him your new baby blue gingham pajama set, and now he just walked out of your bathroom clad in his own pair of gingham PJs.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Riki says with a satisfied grin as he settles down next to you on the bed, pulling you closer to him before placing a kiss on your cheek.

ꔛ Button Pins? Keychains? You’re a fein for them. All your bags have at least 5 pins on them, and each have their own set of keychains dangling on the side. Every so often when you guys are out, you’d buy some that you think would look cute on Riki, like a little crocheted duckie on a chain, a pin with little stars, or an acrylic dango charm. You buy some and put them on him, thinking he doesn’t notice, but he does.

And he loves when you do it.

“What’s this?” Jake asks with a confused grin when he sees a Miffy keychain hanging from Riki’s belt loop.

Riki smiles when he remembers you hanging it on there while he was getting ready that morning, “She does this thing; scatters pins and other charms across my clothes when she thinks I’m not looking.”

“And you keep them on?” Jake says teasingly.

“Of course,” Riki replies proudly “They’re from her.”

It doesn’t matter what he’s wearing that day, if the charm matches his fit or not, or if he’s got a schedule with the other members; he’s keeping it on him.

ꔛ The chances of coming across a Lego store while you guys are at the mall are pretty decent, and every time you guys stumble across one, you spend a minimum of 2 hours at the activity table building alongside kids. It’s one of your favorite pastimes since the two of you get to just play around and build stupid stuff.

Every now and then one of the little kids sitting beside you guys would talk up a storm about how 1st grade is going for them. Riki, ever so fond of children, is always a good audience to them; he listens attentively and asks them questions in that typical kindergarten teacher voice. You spend the entire time just quietly admiring how gentle Riki is with kids as you build a mini replica of the home you hope to share with him in the future.

You’re too lost in your affection for Riki to notice that he’s placed a baby lego figure in between the lego figurines of him and you in the mini living room you’ve made. It snaps you out of your trans, urging you to look at him.

“That’ll be us,” Riki says, the tenderness in his voice dripping like honey as he tucks your hair behind your ear, “One day.”

ꔛ As the youngest in the group, Riki is the other members’ little errand boy every now and then; that includes always being one of two members tasked to buy the weekly groceries. He’d drag you with him and whichever member he’s with of course.

Now, you think it’d be a cute idea right? “Awhh is this what it’s gonna be like when we live together in the future?” You thought to yourself the first time he asked you to come with.

You quickly learned that that was indeed the case, but you don’t entirely know how to feel about it.

See, you love Riki to bits—he’s the love of your life for crying out loud—but that doesn’t absolve him of being a little menace. Every time you go to the supermarket with him, he’ll start playing hide and seek in the middle of your shopping, and you end up going on a wild goose chase trying to find him before heading to the check-out counter.

You think you see his head peeking through the top of one of the aisles? You run over there as quickly as you can, only to find that the tall ass kid is now in the aisle you just came from.

Lord have mercy.

“Okay okay baby, I’m sorry,” Riki says over the phone after taunting you for a good 20 minutes, “Where are you and Jungwon hyung? I don’t see you guys at any of the counters.”

“Oh, we’re back at the dorms and unpacking the groceries.”

“YOU WHAT???”

Safe to say Riki’s learned his lesson… for the time being, that is.

ꔛ Riki’s fashion sense is always making headlines on stan twt, and that wardrobe’s gotta come from somewhere of course. While his closet is decked out with pieces from high end brands, some of his favorite and most frequently worn items came from thrifting dates with you.

You could argue that bagging some of the rarest finds either of you have ever seen would be the highlight of those thrift sessions, but for Riki, his favorite part is honestly just following you around and taking candid shots of you as you peruse the dense racks of clothes.

“Riks!! This button-up would look cute on you, don’t you think?” Just as you turn around to show him what you found, the flash of his digicam takes you by surprise.

“Baby,” You let out a soft giggle, “You still haven’t gotten anything for yourself.”

He hasn’t put down his camera once since you guys have walked in.

Riki walks over and shows you all the pictures he’s taken of you so far, “Oh I think I’ve got plenty for myself, princess.”

You roll your eyes fondly, ignoring the red blooming on your cheeks as he places a soft kiss on top of your head.

41 notes · View notes

scribbledlovenotes · 11 hours ago

Text

meet the parents. m.r

mdni. oral. soft.

It was as civil as it could have been, yet dinner was still a fucking gauntlet. The dining room feeling more like a courtroom as you and your mother tried to keep tensions to a minimum. Lasagna was on the menu – a family speciality, but tonight; it was the too-stiff small talk that your dad and boyfriend were having which was the only thing you could taste. Foul and bitter on the tip of your tongue, you could see the way your father was dissecting your choice of men with every bite he took. Unapproving. Disinterested. It had been Mattheo’s idea to meet the family. Something you were hoping to put off for a few more months, or perhaps forever, but no… you just had to listen to him, like you always did; and now, you were drowning in the reality of your fathers discontentment.

A death eater. You just had to fall for a death eater. Not just any death eater however – the son of one of the worst wizards to walk the fucking planet. You had begged Mattheo to behave on the way over. No snide remarks, no words which could be interpreted with a double meaning. Polite, courteous, the perfect gentleman. That should have been easy enough, right? He played the part for everyone else. A charming smirk, ever so crisp button up, prying questions of your fathers answered with a slickness he’d perfected over the years. You weren’t blind though. You saw the tension between the two men in your life. The way one would grip their fork a little tighter, like the handle of a wand, ready to hex. You mother had thought it would be a good idea to offer dessert, but no – you just wanted out of here. Away for a moment. A time out. A chance to breathe.

Dinner ends in silence, as you excuse Mattheo and yourself; claiming that you needed him for help with something and your mother, not taking the hint, says that she’ll make tea. Ugh. Woman please. So now you’re back in your childhood bedroom; the airs thick with tension and everything unsaid. You know that Mattheo is done with playing nice, but you can’t help but wonder what else is install for the night. You need to take action, but how.

He’s leaning against your desk, admiring the posters on the walls and the way your bedsheets match your curtains with the same pattern as he’s loosening his tie; his top button undone. His dark curls mussed from the way he’s run his hand through them a half dozen times with each almost exaggerated breath he’s taken. His eyes still whirling with a storm trapped within them from your fathers interrogation; they lock onto you – heavy, intense, as you shut the bedroom door.

“Your dad hates me..”, he mutters. Voice gruff as if he’s been chewing on gravel.

You don’t answer. Not verbally. You shake your head as you make your way over to him; crossing the room in a few short steps before falling onto your knees. You need to be in charge here. Take control. Show him that you’re not in the least bit worried about what your parents think of him. You brought him to dinner to meet them, not get their blessing. Your life. Your rules. Your game to play. Mattheo’s breathing hitches. He knows exactly where this is going. Your hands flutter across the warm leather of his belt, unbuckling it with ease with a simple, sharp tug. The metal it runs through clinking soft in the quiet of the room. His pants hit the floor, pooling around his ankles and you’re greeted with the ever so pretty view of his cock already straining against his boxers; thick, sensitive. You let your nails peel back the material and it springs free – veined, a little red, precum leaking at the tip which is just begging for you.

“We’re gonna make you forget that dinner mhmm..”, you whisper with a voice that’s almost all heat – a spring of tease to season. His hands are already fisting into your hair – not gentle, no.. desperate. Spitting into your palm, you wrap your hand around his base and stroke up once, slow and steady; watching the way his head tips back, a soft low groan rumbling deep from within his chest. Your tongue brushes across the tip; tasting salt, acting like that of a kittens and he curses beneath his breath, hips twitching, fingers knotting tighter into your hair.

“Don’t tease baby girl.” So you don’t. He’s already wrecked and you know it. You part your lips, taking him deep; mouth stretching around him with ease as your tongue swirls along the underside of his shaft and you begin to bob your head, settling into a rhythm which is all wet heat and suction. You’ve got him exactly where you want him. Vulnerable. Under your control. Placid. Mattheo’s grip tightens as you begin to claw your nails down the side of his thigh and glance up, eyes glistening and doe eyed. He guides you, not forcing, just acting as if he’s taking the lead and you let him. Duh – why wouldn’t you. You can tell he’s ever so close to just losing it.

“Fuck – mhmm, just like that.” The words are panted out; his eyes half closed, watching you through the darkness of your bedroom. You can feel his muscles flexing with every thrust he pushes into your mouth. You take that as the perfect sign to hollow your cheeks, to suck harder, to whimper a small moan that is for him and only him and he’s done. He groans your name like a prayer loud enough to travel through the family home, the sound raw, the intentions not hidden. Your other hand cups his balls, toying with them gently as he chokes out some other words which are incoherent as if what you’re doing is making his head spin. It better fucking be.

Humming as you take him in, tip hitting the back of your throat; you sob out a choke, the vibration causing his thighs to tense and you know he’s close. You can feel him throbbing against the inside of your cheek. Saliva drips down your chin from the corners of your mouth mixed with his arousal and it’s messy and careless and perfect and sin and you take him deeper, throat relaxing, nose brushing against his skin which snaps his control like a branch in the wind. His hips buck just once before he holds your head still. Groaning.

“Gonna… babe.. I’m.. gonna..”

He doesn’t need to say anymore. You don’t pull back. You choke, but then swallow. Every pulse, ever hot spurt, every writher he makes as he shudders and gasps and you finally, knowing the job is done feel his fingers loosen from their grip. Pulling away slowly, you lick your lips and sit back on your ankles to meet his gaze. A smile crossing your lips. Then comes a giggle. Your sounds pulling him back down into the reality you’re both in which is so surreal.

“C’mon”, you suggest, pulling yourself up onto your feet. “My mother said something earlier about dessert and ugh, and just believe it when I say, whatever she’s baked; probably tastes better than me.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin x reader #slytherin smut #hogwarts #harry potter #slytherin boys smut #slytherin boys x reader #sln work

23 notes · View notes

bakkusimpp · 1 day ago

Text

He's your teacher! Dammit!

Aizawa Shouta x Student! Fem!reader

Chapter 7: After School

– Faculty Courtyard –

The hallway had long since emptied.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange hue across the concrete paths of U.A.

Y/N stood by the courtyard wall, her fingers twitching at her side, heart thundering against her ribs like it was ready to burst through.

She had waited.

Waited for him.

Waited for this moment.

Aizawa Shouta emerged, scarf loosened, hands buried deep into his pockets. He paused when he saw her.

“Y/N,” he said with that flat, steady voice, though something flickered in his dark eyes.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, stepping closer.

Her voice trembled, but her spine stayed straight.

He didn’t move.

He waited.

She took a deep breath.

“I meant what I said earlier… I’m not confused. I am attracted to you.” Her voice shook, her eyes locked onto his.

“I like you, Aizawa-sensei. And I’ve tried to keep it quiet, respectful, but I’m tired of pretending it’s not there.”

His face stayed unreadable for a beat too long.

Finally, he exhaled, eyes closing for a brief moment. “Y/N,” he started, tone calm, calculated—almost too gentle.

The way he said her name, she knew rejection was close.

“You’re young. It’s natural to feel admiration… attraction. But that doesn’t make it real. You’re still growing. This... this is just a phase. A little crush–”

Her hands clenched. “Stop calling it that,” she snapped, voice low, raw.

“It’s not a phase.”

There was silence.

And then before logic, before control, before consequence—she surged forward.

Her hands reached up, and she kissed him. Fiercely. Desperately. Like she needed him to feel it—to understand the storm burning in her chest. Her hands holding his face so gently he almost melted.

His eyes widened, breath catching—but he didn’t respond. He didn’t move. Not for a heartbeat.

Then gently—very gently—he pulled away.

His hand lingered near her face, not touching, but hovering like he wanted to.

“No,” he whispered, voice hoarse.

“Don’t mistake my silence for permission.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips trembling.

“I care about you,” he said, looking away. “But not like this. I’m your teacher. And you deserve someone who can return your feelings fully. Without restraint.”

“But I don’t want anyone else,” she whispered. Her voice cracked.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. His fists clenched in his coat pockets.

“You think you won’t. But you will,” he said, quietly.

“One day, you’ll meet someone your age, someone who looks at you the way you look at me. And you’ll forget this. You’ll forget me.”

Gently he patted her head, like he always does.

He started walking again, but slower this time.

“I won’t forget you,” she whispered, he heard her.

I won't

He didn’t turn around. Didn’t pause.

But his voice floated back across the courtyard.“…I hope you do.”And then he was gone.

Leaving her standing in the gold haze of the evening, heart heavy, eyes burning—but lips curved in a sad, defiant smile.

Because she knew.

She saw it in his eyes.

He felt it too.

But he was too bound by his own damn rules to ever admit it.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

And that made it hurt even more.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha #teacher x student #aizawa shouta #bnha #shota aizawa #aizawa sensei #shouta aizawa #aizawa

23 notes · View notes

httpvomitello · 20 hours ago

Text

You Should’ve Been Specific .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: You're strong, confident, and a bit reckless when it comes to getting things done—which Steve Rogers both admires and is constantly stressed out by.

steve rogers x f!reader

The mission had started simple. In and out. Get the device, neutralize any threats, and leave no trace behind. Easy. Or at least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

Steve had said, very clearly, "Take care of it."

And in your mind, that was permission.

You crouched behind the remains of a half-destroyed building, smoke curling into the air, alarms blaring in the distance. You were covered in dust and soot, your pulse still racing, heart pounding with leftover adrenaline. And right next to you, standing rigid and wide-eyed, was Captain America himself—looking at the destruction you may or may not have just caused.

“You said to take care of it,” you said calmly, brushing debris off your shoulder.

Steve slowly turned to you, brows raised high in disbelief. “I didn’t say to destroy the entire city, Y/N.”

You shrugged, dead serious. “Then you should’ve been specific.”

His lips parted like he was going to argue—but then he just exhaled and rubbed a hand down his face. “We’re going to have a long talk about this.”

“Great. I love our talks,” you quipped, then stood up and gave him a once-over. “You okay?”

“Besides being thirty seconds away from an international incident? Peachy.”

You smirked, and without waiting, started walking back toward the extraction point. Steve followed you, still grumbling under his breath, but you knew him well enough to hear the hint of a smile there.

Back on the Quinjet, after the mission was called in and the mess left behind for Damage Control, Steve sat across from you with his arms crossed, jaw set in a very disapproving boyfriend look. You leaned back in your seat, legs stretched out, trying not to laugh.

“You’re reckless.”

“You’re adorable when you’re mad.”

“This isn’t a joke, Y/N. You dropped a building on that convoy!”

“They were going to kill us, Steve. I made a judgment call.”

“You always make a ‘judgment call’ that ends with a crater in the ground.”

You tilted your head, genuinely curious. “And yet, here we are. Alive.”

His expression cracked a little. “You stress me out.”

You smiled. “I know.”

The jet was quiet for a beat. Then, you got up and walked over to him, dropping into the seat beside him, your fingers brushing against his.

“I’m sorry. I know I push the limits sometimes. But I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think it was the only way. I’d never risk you.”

He looked over, that gentle Steve Rogers softness surfacing through the tough exterior. “I know that. I just��” he paused, taking your hand in his, “I need you to come back to me. Every time. I don’t care what we’re up against.”

You leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. “I always do. You’re the reason I fight this hard.”

He pulled you into a quiet kiss—one that spoke more than the words you both fumbled through.

The next morning, you woke up in your shared apartment. Steve was already up, making coffee in the kitchen, shirtless with just his dog tags resting on his chest.

“Morning, love,” he greeted without turning around.

You stretched, yawning. “Morning, rules.”

He turned, gave you a look. “I meant what I said—we’re talking about yesterday.”

You padded over, wrapping your arms around his waist. “We can talk. Over pancakes.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Bribing me with carbs?”

“Yup.”

He sighed, smiled, and kissed your forehead. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You grinned. “I know.”

Later that day, at the Avengers Tower, Sam and Natasha walked past you and Steve sitting on the couch watching security footage from the mission.

Sam gave Steve a look. “You let her level a building?”

“She said she was handling it!”

“And she did,” you added, proud.

Steve covered his face again.

Nat just smirked and kept walking. “You two are gonna give Fury a stroke.”

You leaned into Steve’s side. “He should’ve been specific too.”

30 notes · View notes

am0ralexis · 23 hours ago

Text

Alex Kinks/Intimacy Headcanons 🩷💖

Gentle Guidance: He would enjoy leading the moment (initiating kisses or deciding positions) but always checks that his partner is comfortable. His dominance is about making his partner feel looked-after rather than controlled.

Protective Instinct: Alex strikes one as someone who’d be very protective in intimate situations. If his partner seems even slightly uncomfortable, he’d immediately slow down, ask what they need, and adjust. His “dominance” includes watching over their well-being.

Playful Command: Because he’s naturally funny and lighthearted, even when taking a dominant role he might throw in a playful joke or grin. For example, he could teasingly say, “Hey, I’m in charge here, okay?” followed by a warm laugh or a kiss, keeping the mood upbeat. This shows he’s confident yet not taking himself too seriously.

Confidence Boosting: Alex uses praise to build his partner’s confidence. If they’re nervous, he’ll softly tell them how attractive they are or how much he loves being with them, easing any insecurity. Hearing their happy sigh or a “I love it when you do that” in return would likely light him up and reassure him that he’s pleasing them.

Bilingual Sweet-Talk: Given his bilingual background (English/Spanish), he might even slip into Spanish for endearments unconsciously when he’s feeling affectionate. Calling his partner “mi amor” or whispering “eres tan preciosa” (“you’re so precious”) during intimate moments could be his way of making the praise feel extra personal and heartfelt. It shows he’s comfortable enough to share that intimate part of himself.

Mutual Admiration: Praise for Alex isn’t one-sided. He’d enjoy a loop of encouragement – telling his partner how good they make him feel and blushing happily when they praise him back. This mutual validation creates a positive, loving feedback cycle in their intimacy, which suits his need for emotional connection.

Lighthearted Scenarios: Don’t be surprised if he play-acts scenarios that border on comedic. He might try on a confident alter-ego in a humorous way (perhaps mimicking a suave movie character with an overly posh voice, then breaking character to laugh with you). This keeps things stimulating but not intimidating.

Comfort Through Laughter: If either of you is nervous or things get a bit clumsy (which can happen), Alex would likely diffuse it with a joke. For example, if he fumbles while, say, unbuckling something, he might quip “Uh oh, technical difficulties!” with a grin. Sharing a little laugh mid-intimacy means no embarrassment, just two people having fun together.

Shared Fantasy: He’s creative, so he would enjoy indulging in a partner’s fantasy through roleplay if they have one, as long as it’s within his comfort zone. He’d commit to the bit enough to make it exciting but probably can’t resist throwing in a playful twist. The result is a scenario that’s sexy but also distinctly them – full of inside jokes and genuine smiles – which strengthens their bond.

Connection Over Performance: For Alex, the emotional connection is the best part of intimacy. He’s not interested in detached, purely physical flings. What turns him on most is knowing “this is us sharing something special.” So he’d be very attuned to his partner’s emotions throughout – noticing if they seem anxious, elated, shy, etc., and responding accordingly (squeezing their hand, saying “I’ve got you,” or slowing down as needed).

Tender Cuddling and Talk: Aftercare with Alex would probably involve laying together intertwined under the blankets, having quiet, heartfelt conversations. He might ask things like “You okay? Need anything?” and tell them how happy they make him. This is when his softer side shines brightest: he might crack a sleepy joke to hear them laugh, then turn earnest and say something like, “I really love being here with you.” Those moments of holding each other, with no rush, make him feel as close as possible to his partner – something he values immensely.

Emotional Safety: Because he’s thoughtful, he’d also appreciate receiving emotional reassurance. Even though he comes off confident and jokey, he has a tender heart. Hearing his partner say “I loved that” or “I feel so close to you” would genuinely move him. It confirms to him that he’s not just physically satisfying them, but also making them feel loved – which is exactly his goal.

Checking In: Throughout intimate moments, Alex would habitually check in with his partner in soft ways. A quick “Is this okay?” when trying something new, or searching their eyes for any sign of discomfort, are ways he ensures everything is enjoyable for both. This makes his partner feel safe and heard.

Expressing Needs: He’s also surprisingly good at expressing his own needs once he’s comfortable. It might take a little while (due to his reserved side) but eventually he’ll shyly admit things like “I really like it when you do X” or “Can we try Y? I think I’d enjoy it with you.” This honesty not only leads to better experiences but also shows his partner that he trusts them deeply (which would be very flattering and bonding for them).

Building Trust: Because he handles boundaries respectfully, his partner learns they can be completely honest with him without fear of upsetting him. That mutual trust likely lets the couple explore more over time, always at their own pace. Alex would take pride in being someone his partner can confide in about any desire or concern – it makes him feel reliable and connected. This strong foundation of trust means their intimacy just gets better and more fulfilling as time goes on.

Behind Closed Doors: Alex would prefer exploring kinks only in a secure, private setting (like the bedroom with the door locked, phones off). This makes him feel safe enough to let loose. The privacy adds an element of “this is our little secret” that can actually heighten the intimacy between him and his partner.

Selective Sharing: He might share cute romantic anecdotes with close friends (like “Yeah, I cooked her dinner last night, it was nice”), but he’d never divulge explicit details. This discretion also means he’d expect the same respect from his partner – and he’d deeply appreciate that they keep things just between them. It’s not about shame, but about cherishing the intimacy.

Comfort Zone: Because he values discretion, he’d steer clear of situations that risk exposure. For instance, doing anything intimate in public or where they might be interrupted would probably stress him out more than excite him. He’d rather wait till they’re truly alone. In that private comfort zone, though, he can be surprisingly passionate and uninhibited since he knows it’s just the two of them. This contrast – polite and a bit shy in public, versus loving and playful in private – is exactly what makes these headcanons feel true to Alex’s personality.

#quackity fanfic #quackity imagines #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity x you

32 notes · View notes

chew-n-spit · 3 days ago

Text

Random Things With Brant

pairing: Brant x afab!reader

tags: possibly ooc, nsfw/MDNI, free use kink, somnophilia mention, established relationship ofc, author is very much just yapping, random thoughts less actual writing tbh

notes: I'm kinda in a lil mental pause rn, so I'm writing a bit of crap as a distraction. Not too well versed in Brant's mannerisms yet or him as a character pardon me—

Personally, I think he's clingy. He's definitely touch starved. He's got his hands on you somewhere. Brant just likes touching you, feeling your warmth. He just seems like the type to be into pda too. Might tone it down a little if you're not entirely into it.

He just melts when you initiate physical contact with him though. Like caressing his face, rubbing your thumb tenderly against his cheek? He'll cave. He especially loves to be coddled when intoxicated and sleepy. Just let him smoosh himself against your face while he babbles sweet nothings in your ear. gentle strokes on the back of his head while he's face first into your chest will have him out like a light in no time.

Likes to listen to you talk, especially if he's your go-to to ramble to.(He should be...) Take a seat on his lap while you rant or tell him about something funny while fiddles with your hair. Whether it be straight, curly, braided, long, short— he loves to touch your hair. Again, he's just big on physical touch.

Brant is very open about physical touch, he's very clear that he absolutely wants and encourages you to touch him. More salacious acts included— vice versa. If you let him, he'll absolutely rummage underneath your shirt to fondle your breast. It just feels natural to him, and he doesn't always do so as a way to initiate sex. Sometimes he just wants to cop a feel, and you let him. He'll absolutely be on board if you'd like to cuddle nude. Let him appreciate your body, thank you.

A romantic pervert. He'll have his hand rest so comfortably in your underwear, his palm resting on your pussy, all while he whispers some of the mushiest things you've ever heard in your ears. His fingers are regulars when it comes to being inside of you.

You'll be stripped down with two or three thick fingers pumping out of you while he hovers over you, admiring your very being every. single. time. Though it may seem casual, he treats every intimate moment with you like a fleeting treasure.

Don't shy away from touching him as you please. He's already consented to your loving touches in the realm of his bed. Even in moments of silent cuddling, sweet palms at his crotch, a few slick pumps around his shaft— you'll soon watch his eyes flutter shut as well as sappy words mixed with mewls float from his lips.

If you wanted to, he'd let you play and mess with him even after he's begun to soften.

Wrap your lips around his tip or stroke him off to sleep, either way it's a literal pleasure to fall asleep to, and an ever better sight to wake up to.

#brant x reader #wuwa brant #wuthering waves brant

20 notes · View notes

outside-1998 · 29 days ago

Text

if I think about george and anselmo for too long i start going insane

#oh my god they make me so miserable #og doomed gay relationship 💔#but in all seriousness #if you don't mind me rambling #anselmo completely changed george michael's life #if he never met/noticed him he wouldn't have wrote too funky #or older or anselmo's song #and if he never wrote older he wouldn't have met kenny #he would've been so much happier if he never passed and that's what so awful about it all #I do think that was one of the only times in gm's life he was truly happy #but uhhh #their love for eachother is universal in the sense that any queer person has/will experience some similar thing in their lifetime #he talked about him with such gentleness and admiration #they'll find eachother again I hope #right people wrong time and allat #okay I've talked too much SORRY #everytime I relisten to his final interview I start tweaking out 😭😭

4 notes · View notes

cumironi · 8 months ago

Text

A BRAT IS ALL I WANT ！

TOJI FUSHIGURO has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.

warning. husband! toji fushiguro, breeding kink, ōral ( m! receiving ), fingering, nipple-playing, dirty talk, pet names, name-calling.

wc. 4,5k | in this megumi wasn't born yet.

sure, you loved being toji fushiguro's wife. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!

“c’mon baby.. i want a brat…”

toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!

“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”

you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for a kid right now.”

he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. you know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'll look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you."

you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”

his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”

with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”

“you're such an infuriating man!” you huff indignantly, squirming underneath him despite yourself. “fine then, if i have to do this, you better make it worth my while!”

your hands reach up to claw at his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there as you push against him. the firmness of his body pressed against yours sends shivers through your spine. “show me what else you can do besides getting me pregnant...”

he smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. “is that so?” he murmurs seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your lips.

his tongue slips past them in a dominant sweep that leaves no room for argument. one hand moves from your hip to cup one of your breasts over the fabric of your shirt, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through the material.

“you've got quite the mouth on you when you're angry,” he growls approvingly before pulling away slightly to admire his handiwork— the flush spreading across your cheeks and chest. “but don’t worry baby... i plan on showing you plenty tonight.”

your breath catches in your throat as he continues his assault on your senses. you arch up into his touch, nipples pebbling harder against the palm of his hand.

“arrogant bastard...” you gasp out between moans, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the heat pooling between your legs.

but it’s futile— every brush of his skin against yours sets fire to your veins and makes your heart race faster. the sight of him looming above you like this, so powerful yet so gentle at times... it drives you wild.

“just remember this next time you decide to play doctor without consent,” you manage to say through gritted teeth before biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. he chuckles darkly at your words, but doesn't stop what he's doing. instead, his other hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh tightly.

“oh, i'll remember alright,” he promises huskily before leaning down to capture another kiss from you.

his free hand slips beneath your shirt to find bare skin, tracing up along your ribcage until he reaches your breast once more. this time though, there's no barrier between them— only soft flesh meeting rough fingertips.

“feel good?” he asks teasingly as he rolls your nipple between two fingers causing sparks to shoot straight down to your core. the sensation of his touch on your bare skin sends shockwaves through you. a low whimper escapes from deep within your throat as he teases your sensitive nipple.

“too good,” you admit breathlessly, tilting your head back against the cushioned couch back. your hips instinctively buck upwards seeking friction against nothing but air. the need for something— anything— to fill that empty ache gnawing at you becomes almost unbearable.

“just because i say yes doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me,” you pant out weakly, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever shred of control left over. but with each stroke of his fingers over your heated flesh, it feels less like a warning and more like an invitation into pleasureland.

a wicked grin spreads across his face at your words. “take advantage? me?” he questions mockingly, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.

slowly, deliberately, he starts to slide downwards— kissing and licking a path along your collarbone before dipping lower still until he reaches the swell of your breasts. “i think we both know who's really in charge here,” he rumbles against your skin, hot breath ghosting over one hardened peak, “and it ain't you.”

without warning, he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard— tongue swirling around it torturously slow while his hand continues its ministrations on the other side.

a sharp cry tears itself from your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. his mouth on your breast feels incredible; too much so for comfort. your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close against you. despite everything you’ve been saying, it’s clear that you’re losing ground fast.

“don't stop...” you breathe out heavily, unable to deny him anymore.

even though part of you knows this isn't fair— that he's manipulating things to get exactly what he wants— another part relishes in being taken care of like this. and god help you, but it feels amazing.

“oh, fuck! just please...”

he hums in approval against your breast, the vibration sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “that's it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to lavish attention on its twin. “just let go and enjoy it. you know you love when i take charge.”

his hands roam your body possessively, palming your curves and squeezing roughly enough to leave marks. when he finally pulls back to gaze down at you, his expression is pure sin— dark eyes blazing with hunger and dominance.

“now, where were we?” he muses, voice dripping with promise as he starts to unbutton his shirt— revealing chiseled abs and a scattering of scars. “why don't you show me just how grateful you are for my attention?” he suggests, fingers already working to undo his belt buckle.

the sight of him undressing, even partially, sends a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. your breath hitches in anticipation as he leans closer again. “like this?” you ask, reaching out to trace a finger down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscles ripple beneath your touch.

your hand dips lower, brushing against the bulge straining against his pants. a smirk curls your lips at the feel of him throbbing beneath your fingertips. “or maybe like this?” you whisper suggestively, giving his hardness a firm squeeze through the fabric. his bulge feels heavy on your palm.

he lets out a low groan at your touch, hips jerking forward involuntarily as you fondle him through his pants. “that's it, baby,” he encourages, his own hands coming up to cup your breasts again, kneading them roughly. “get me nice and hard for you.”

with a swift motion, he frees himself from his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring forth. it stands proud and erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use?” he commands, stroking himself slowly as he watches you with hungry eyes.

“lick it clean first, then take me deep inside that sweet little throat of yours. show me how much you want to be bred by me, my love.” the sight of his impressive erection makes your mouth water. with shaky hands, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. he's warm and solid in your grasp— a tangible proof of his arousal. you can't resist leaning in to lap at the precum beading at the tip, savoring the salty-sweet flavor.

leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss onto the head of his cock before taking it into your mouth. the salty-sweet flavor explodes on your tongue as you start to suck gently. “mmm, tastes good,” you murmur appreciatively before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently.

as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your warm, wet mouth with each pass, you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. his musky scent fills your nostrils, and the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating.

you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, determined to please him. your hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm as you work his shaft with increasing enthusiasm.

you bob your head back and forth, taking as much of him as possible into your warm cavernous space. each stroke sends tremors rippling through your body making it difficult to concentrate on anything else besides pleasing him right now.

a low, guttural moan escapes his lips as you take him deeper, the sound vibrating through you as you suck. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.

“fucking hell, just like that,” he growls, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as you work him over, “such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?”

he rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, fucking your face with increasing urgency. the sight of your lips stretched tight around his girth, the way your cheeks hollow with each suck, is almost too much to bear. “you're going to make me cum so hard down your throat if you keep this up,” he warns, voice strained with pleasure. “ready to swallow every drop like a good girl?” his pace quickens, driving himself deeper with each thrust.

your nose presses against his pubic bone as he hits the back of your throat, the pressure building with each thrust. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you don't dare pull away.

“mmph!” you gag slightly as he bottoms out, but quickly recover, relaxing your throat to take him even deeper. the vibrations of your muffled moans add to the sensations as you continue to suck and lick at his shaft.

your free hand slides up his abdomen to tease his nipples, pinching and rolling them between your fingers as you service him. the dual stimulation of your mouth and hands pushes you closer to the edge, your own arousal building rapidly.

you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, watching his face contort in pleasure as you work him over. his hips buck wildly, driven by instinct alone as you manage to take him impossibly deep. the sight of those full lips wrapped tightly around his cock, trembling from effort and pleasure— it's all too much.

“oh fuck, right there...” he grunts out, eyes locked onto yours, “that's it, swallow every inch.”

with a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your throat. he holds there for a moment longer than necessary, letting you adjust before beginning to move again.

“gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers hoarsely, his control slipping as ecstasy floods through him. his strokes become erratic as he teeters on the brink of release.

“just... just a bit more, my l-love...”

the feeling of him pulsing against your tongue is exquisite, his impending climax evident in the way his cock throbs and twitches in your mouth. you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster as you sense his orgasm approaching.

your throat constricts around him rhythmically as you swallow, milking his shaft for all it's worth. drool escapes from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving breasts.

you can feel your own arousal building to a fever pitch, your core clenching around nothing as you imagine him filling you up with his seed. the thought alone nearly pushes you over the edge. but you hold off, determined to make him come first. you want to taste his essence, to feel him pulse and twitch in your mouth as he finds his release.

with a guttural groan, he slams home one last time, holding you in place as his cock erupts in your mouth. thick ropes of hot cum coat your tongue, flooding your senses with the intense flavor of his release.

“fuuuckkk!” he bellows, eyes rolling back in bliss as he rides out his orgasm. his grip on your hair tightens, not painful but insistent, keeping you still as he empties himself into your eager mouth. wave after wave of his seed pulses across your taste buds, each spurt a testament to his pleasure. finally, with a shuddering gasp, he stills, his cock softening slightly within the confines of your lips.

“swallow it all, baby,” he orders, voice husky with satisfaction, “every last drop belongs to you now.”

you eagerly swallow every last drop of his cum, savoring the taste as it coats your tongue and slips down your throat. his seed is potent and rich, leaving an unmistakable warmth spreading throughout your belly.

reluctantly releasing him from your mouth, you sit back on your heels, panting heavily. your lips are swollen and bruised from their vigorous use, a satisfied smile curving them despite the discomfort.

you reach up to wipe away some of the drool trickling down your chin, smearing it over your cleavage instead. looking up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and satisfaction, “did i do okay?”

he looks down at you, chest heaving with each breath as he fights to regain his composure. a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and disheveled.

“you always did, baby,” he replies, voice rough with residual pleasure, “best damn blowjob i've ever had.” he reaches out to run a finger along your jawline, tracing the path of a single tear that has managed to escape. his touch is surprisingly gentle given the intensity of what just transpired.

“but we're not done yet,“ he adds with a predatory gleam in his eye, “it's my turn to breed you now.” without waiting for further response, he pulls you towards him until you're straddling his lap once more. his cock is already starting to stir again, eager for another round. you wrap your arms around him, smiling so beautifully just like how you are, his sweet, sweet little wife.

feeling your arms encircle him, toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. his hands roam over your body, taking delight in the softness of your skin beneath his calloused palms.

“i'm glad you're mine,” he murmurs into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe, “i plan on making you feel very well taken care of.” his hands slide lower, pulling your hips flush against his growing erection. the sensation makes him groan in anticipation.

“so let's get started, shall we?”

you giggle softly, leaning in to press your lips to his in a tender kiss. as you pull back, you whisper, “i love being yours, toji. show me how much.” emboldened by your words, you begin to grind against him, your slick heat coating his length through the fabric of your underwear. the friction sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

he captures your lips again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. when you break apart, panting, he grips your hips firmly and begins to rock you against him, the motion deliberate and slow.

“that's it, ride my cock,” he commands, voice thick with need, “let me feel that sweet pussy of yours rubbing against me.” his hands slide under your shirt, palming your breasts roughly as he continues to grind you against his hardness. the sensation is maddening, each pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

“fuck, you're soaked,” he growls, breaking the kiss to trail biting kisses down your neck, “can't wait to bury myself inside you and fill you up.”

you moan loudly, the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your clit driving you wild. you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his grasp as he tweaks and rolls your sensitive nipples. you can hardly stand it anymore; the need to have him inside you is overwhelming. you start to move faster against him, desperate for more contact.

“oh god, toji,” you whimper, looking into his eyes, “please, i need you... need you to fuck me.”

hearing your plea, toji's restraint snaps. with a swift movement, he stands up, carrying you effortlessly in his arms. he strides towards the bed, laying you down upon it with surprising gentleness considering the urgency of his actions.

“you'll get exactly what you ask for,” he promises, yanking down your panties with a rough tug. his gaze falls upon your glistening folds, wet and ready for him.

positioning himself between your thighs, he lines up his throbbing member at your entrance. without another word, he plunges deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “fucking perfect,” he grunts out, beginning to set a punishing pace. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting spots within you that make stars burst behind your eyelids.

a loud cry tears itself from your throat as he fills you entirely, stretching your walls deliciously. the sensation is overwhelming, causing your entire body to shake.

“oh, t-toji, baby..” you plead desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him even deeper if possible. every stroke hits just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you cling to him for support. you can't help but buck up to meet each of his powerful thrusts, desperate to take everything he offers.

he growls in approval, loving the way you claw at him as he pounds into your willing body. the sound of your cries and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust only spur him on.

“look at me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust, “want to see those pretty eyes when i breed you.” his hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him while he drives into you mercilessly. the slap of flesh echoes around the room, punctuating the symphony of moans and groans.

as he watches your face contort with pleasure, toji leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling harshly before soothing it with a flick of his tongue. you obey instantly, meeting his gaze with wide, lust-filled eyes. the combination of his commanding presence and the raw pleasure he's giving you leaves you breathless.

“oh fuck, toji...” your voice trails off into a series of broken whimpers as he teases your nipple. the dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his teeth grazing your sensitive bud send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

your inner walls clench around him involuntarily, trying to milk him for all he's worth. but it's clear that you're far from finished; there's still so much more you want from this dominant man.

feeling your walls flutter around him, toji can't hold back a satisfied grunt. he releases your breast with a pop, watching as a bead of blood appears where he'd been sucking. “good girl,” he praises, slapping your thigh lightly for emphasis, “keep coming for me.”

with renewed vigor, he starts slamming into you harder than before. each thrust goes deeper than the last, aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your vision. the bed creaks under their combined weight as he picks up speed, driven by pure instinct and carnal desire.

the sharp sting of pain from his bite quickly gives way to intense pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. your body bows off the mattress with each brutal thrust, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation.

“o-oh god, oh god!“ you whimpering, your voice hoarse from crying out in ecstasy. your mind blanks, consumed solely by the primal urge to be filled, claimed, bred. you lock your ankles behind his back, using every ounce of strength to pull him impossibly deeper. your hips rise to meet his, creating a frenzied rhythm that threatens to shatter you completely.

the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him, urging him on, pushes roji closer to the edge. he feels your body tensing beneath him, signaling that you’re nearing your climax. “that's it,” he encourages through gritted teeth, “come for me, show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”

his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. the thought of filling you with his seed fuels his arousal further. “going to breed you so good,” he vows before capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss. the intensity of his words coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts sends you spiraling into oblivion. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.

“i'm cumming!“ you cry out, your body convulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you. your juices coat his shaft, slickening the path for him to find his own release. your inner muscles clench and unclench rhythmically, milking him for all he’s worth. you can barely form coherent thoughts; all that remains is raw, animalistic pleasure.

feeling your pussy spasm around him triggers toji's own climax. with a guttural roar, he buries himself to the hilt and unleashes a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. “take it all, my wife,” he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he pumps you full of his essence. the sensation of his cum flooding your womb sends shivers down his spine.”

as the final pulses of his orgasm subside, toji collapses onto you, his heavy chest heaving against your own. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, marking you with gentle bites and whispers of praise. panting heavily, you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. feeling toji's warm seed fill you to the brim brings a sense of satisfaction and completion.

“handsome,” you murmur contentedly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. embracing the intimacy of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he recovers. your bodies remain joined, the evidence of his claim still dripping from your entwined forms.

toji hums in pleasure at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, savoring the taste of your skin.

“mmm, you're beautiful too, the most beautiful,” he murmurs, slowly rolling you to your sides. even in this position, he remains buried inside you, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. gently, he begins to rock against you, stirring the mix of his cum and your juices within your shared depths. he action sends pleasant tingles through both of you, prolonging the intimate connection.

“this was perfect,” he says, his voice low and satisfied, “just what we both needed.”

your body responds eagerly to his movements, each subtle shift reigniting the embers of pleasure within you. you let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the lazy rhythm you've fallen into. “it was...more than perfect,” you agree, a smile curving your lips despite the exhaustion settling in. the tender affection mixed with the lingering heat of your lovemaking leaves you feeling cherished and utterly fulfilled.

as the minutes stretch on, you find yourself reluctant to break away from this sweet, languid closeness. it's moments like these that make you realize just how deeply you adore your husband— in every way imaginable.

toji gazes at you adoringly, taking in the blissful expression on your face. he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light and reverent.

“i love seeing you like this,” he confesses softly, “satisfied and happy in my arms.” he pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “i think it's time we started planning our family, don't you? we could have a few more little ones running around, keeping us busy and on our toes.”

the suggestion is made with a playful glint in his eye, but there's an underlying seriousness to his words. toji wants to build a life filled with love, passion, and children— and he intends to start that process soon. at the mention of starting a family, your heart swells with joy. the idea of carrying another child conceived in such passionate, loving circumstances fills you with excitement.

“you know i've always wanted that,” you reply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “a house full of laughter and love...and maybe some mischief too, maybe later,”

the prospect of growing their family together stirs something deep within you. not just physical attraction, but emotional commitment— a bond forged not only between lovers but also parents-to-be. “but for now,” you continue, tracing idle patterns on his chest, “let's just enjoy this moment. our private paradise.”

hearing your agreement, toji smirks, his eyes sparkling with delight. he captures your wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“a private paradise sounds ideal,” he agrees, nipping gently at your fingertips, “but i suppose we should get moving eventually.” despite his words, there's no urgency in his tone. Instead, he seems content to simply stay here with you— lost in each other's company until reality comes knocking.

“but first,” he adds, pulling you closer until your breasts press against his chest, “i need to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.”

a soft chuckle escapes your lips at his declaration. the idea of being thoroughly satisfied by your husband is quite appealing indeed. “oh, i think i am,” you purr, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the residual ache left by their earlier activities, “but if you insist...“

you arch your back slightly, pressing even harder against him. the sensation of his semi-hard member still nestled inside you sends delightful sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. “just one more round?” you tease, batting your eyelashes playfully.

toji's smirk widens at your teasing words, his dark eyes gleaming with lustful intent. he rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you with a predatory grace.

“one more round it is then,” he declares, beginning to move again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. his renewed thrusts are slow and deliberate, designed to draw out every last drop of pleasure from both of you.

each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. the combination of his weight pressing down on you and the steady rhythm of his hips driving into yours creates an intoxicating blend of sensations.

“and when we're done,” he promises huskily, “we'll start planning our future...together.”

#toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushigro x reader #anime smut

10K notes · View notes

mistyorchid · 8 months ago

Text

Meet-Cute

Old Man!Logan x fem! reader

summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Ch. 2 Ch. 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male!receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k

Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.

So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.

You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.

That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.

You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.

The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.

Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.

Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.

Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.

His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.

Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.

Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.

"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.

Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.

Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.

You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.

"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.

Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.

She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.

Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."

The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.

Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.

"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."

You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"

The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.

Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.

"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.

He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.

After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?

You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.

You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.

"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.

Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.

The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.

Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.

Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.

His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.

Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.

"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."

Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.

He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?

You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.

"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.

"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.

As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.

"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."

He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.

Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.

"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.

It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.

He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."

You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.

Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.

After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.

"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.

You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.

"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.

He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.

"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.

"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.

Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.

At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"

His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.

"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"

You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.

"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.

You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."

He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.

You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.

You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.

The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.

"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.

You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.

"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.

Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.

As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.

"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.

Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.

"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."

You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.

Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.

"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.

You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.

"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.

He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.

"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.

"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.

"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.

"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.

The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.

You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.

"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.

You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.

He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.

"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"

You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.

"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.

"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.

an: Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[

8K notes · View notes