#i don't normally write in present-tense but
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Disturbance (Chapter 1 - Torment)
Fic below the cut; alternate links: Ao3 || FF
Hello everybody! Today I'd like to present to you a story that I've been chipping away at for a few years before actually writing it all down. This will be my first published multi-chapter fic—I usually tend to favor oneshots, but this one is too big for just one chapter. It's been a long time coming, since I wanted to handle what's being covered here with as much dignity as possible and didn't want to accidentally trivialize anything. For reference, this takes place when Felix and Tamora's relationship is starting to get serious.
A warning, as this is a little heavier than my normal stories: if you're sensitive to scenarios where alcohol is involved in near-sexual situations, then please use your judgment on reading this one. The scene in question is in the first chapter and will be referenced in later chapters.
Felix startled awake to what sounded like a small explosion, followed by the shattering of glass and a series of hissed profanities. In a daze, he felt around for his special lady, who was absent from her usual spot beside him in their bed.
"Tammy?!"
He grabbed his hammer off his toolbelt hanging next to the nightstand and jumped out of bed, running towards the source of the sound that had awakened him.
"Tamora?! Are you okay?"
Reaching the bathroom, he flicked on the light switch. Tamora stood behind the remains of the bathroom mirror, her right hand still balled into a fist. Blood coated most of her hand and dripped into a small puddle on the tiled floor. She blinked and stared blankly at the floor as she adjusted to the light, a glaze having just recently cleared from her eyes, watching the inky red fluid channeling into the tile grout.
Looking over to the wall, Felix noticed an impressive fist-shaped crater where the mirror had hung.
"Here, darlin', let me help with that..." He guided her to the sink and scooped handfuls of warm water from the stream to rinse out the cuts. Tamora only moved to lean on the counter with her other arm, stone-faced and unresponsive to any apparent pain, with her injured hand completely limp.
Once the bath had cleared away the blood and stray debris, it revealed ribbons of torn skin peeling off her knuckles, flayed by the glass shards. Felix's stomach wrenched at the sight and he tapped her hand with his hammer, immediately healing her. He patted her hand dry with a towel and took it in his for a kiss where the injuries had been moments before.
"All better!" he piped, with a hesitant smile.
The pleasant tingle of the hammer snapped her out of her statue-like state, and at the contact of his kiss she reflexively held his hand more tightly.
She raised her other hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, getting a clear look at what once was the mirror.
"Aw, Felix, I'm sorry." Her voice came out in a low rasp, a tinge of shame in her tone. "Guess I wasn't runnin' on full batteries. I saw movement and didn't wanna take any chances..."
He shook his head.
"I'll have that mirror good as new tomorrow mornin', don't you worry about it. Just watch out you don't step on the pieces."
—
Her muscles had already tensed when she woke up. The one reassurance she offered herself was that at least she hadn't accidentally clocked her poor little guy in the face or tossed him off the bed in the waning hallucinations of the nightmare.
Too overwhelmed to scream, she could only watch the neon-green entrails flooding the cab of the long-suffering old pickup truck and gumming the moving parts to a stop. What started as a drive into town on an errand from Mama had corrupted when the cloudy sky turned to charcoal, split down the middle with a thundering tear, and poured the disgusting green metallic slurry into every orifice of the vehicle. The doors worked but she couldn't leave, not with him still in the passenger seat, and the liquid contents of the cab stayed suspended inside despite the opening available.
Brad couldn't move, and couldn't breathe through the thick sludge as she somehow could. It dripped out of his nose and mouth whenever he tried to talk to her, and he fearfully refused her attempts to push him out of the truck. The struggle lasted for hours until her hands phased through him and she couldn't physically touch him anymore. 'Aren't you freezing?' he'd nonsensically sputtered out, before the cy-bugs climbed in through the open doors and each began gnawing on a different part of him...
She bit her hand to keep from vomiting at the memory of it. If Mama's land on the outskirts of town wasn't safe then neither was a game right across the station from those monsters—at least that's what her instincts would not stop screaming at her. She wilted slightly at her self-assigned post, head lightly knocking against the glass pane in front of her.
Felix awoke to see her silhouette by the window, leaning on the sill.
"Is something wrong?" he whispered.
She glanced back at him.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Lady Love. What's going on?"
"Thought I heard something," she shrugged.
He joined her at the window and looked out into the familiar surroundings of his game. The perpetual midnight sky lay peacefully above as it always had. Everything was still; Niceland wasn't the sort of place where anyone was out and about at this hour. Beyond the screen, he could faintly make out the flickering lampposts by the buildings across the street from the arcade, and the flash of the streetlights illuminating the occasional passing vehicle.
He placed a hand on hers and almost recoiled at how cold it was.
"We're okay, Tammy. Everyone's okay."
She sighed.
"I know."
He paused for a few minutes, quietly sifting through his collection of uncertainties to try and figure out how to respond.
"Why don't you come back to bed? It's awful chilly tonight," was the best he could muster. The only pajama clothing she wore was an oversized T-shirt, and he had no idea how long she'd been standing there. She didn't even seem to be aware of the temperature.
The sergeant turned over her hand to grasp his, but said nothing.
"Tamora, everyone's safe and we're not goin' anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up. That's a promise."
In the low light he saw the shadow of a smile.
"I'll hold you to it."
They returned to bed and Felix made sure to pull the covers up over her shoulders. She tucked him into her arms and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. The thumping of his heartbeat—quicker than hers as expected, but steady and reassuring—lulled her to sleep.
He had thought it was just one bad night for her. But in the morning light when he went to open the curtains, he noticed overlapping sets of her handprints on the part of the windowsill where she had been keeping watch.
—
Several nights later he woke up to a harsh, low scratching making its way down the hallway outside the apartment. He froze in terror—Tamora had stayed late for work and gone out afterwards, telling him not to wait up for her. He broke into an instant cold sweat at the thought of a cy-bug evading her watch and coming into the game.
As quietly as he could, he rolled out of bed and rummaged around in his toolbox next to the closet. Finding a heavy wrench, he clasped it tightly and snuck towards the entryway. He hesitated only a moment to pick up his hammer as well.
The distant rumble rose to a horrible, continuous scraping as it came closer and closer to his door. Felix's heart pounded and shook his limbs, making his grip on the tools tremble.
The sound reached his door and stopped. Felix's ears rang in the sudden silence and his mouth went dry. He almost fell backwards at the sudden forceful knock afterwards.
"Felix? Babe?"
"Tammy?"
A long pause.
"Yeah?"
He collapsed on the floor, panting in relief.
"You...you really scared me, honeybadger! Give me just a second and I'll let you in."
After composing himself, he opened the door and nearly hit the floor again when Tamora fell into the room, landing on her hands and knees.
"Tammy!! Oh my land, are you alright?!"
He took her hand to help her up, and she snickered.
"Wanna...come get comfy down here."
The sour smell of alcohol broke over him in a wave. For the second time that night, he put a hand to his chest and caught his breath. He chanced a peek out the door and saw a long gash running down the hallway at about her shoulder height. It was impressive that she even had enough physical and mental acuity left to make it all the way to the apartment.
"Tamora, you're going to bed."
She cocked her eyebrows and grinned.
"Can you walk?"
"Kinda stupid question...issat. Watch."
She slowly rose to her feet and stumbled again, but ran with the forward momentum and charged right through the bedroom doorway.
Felix rushed into the bedroom and turned on a light to find her hunched against the wall, fist in the air, as though she was celebrating a victory. He placed his tools down on the nightstand, and with some effort he guided her to the bed.
"Tammy, listen to me. I'm gonna bring you some water in case you need it later. If you have to go to the bathroom, yell for me. I don't want you falling down in there and hittin' your head on anything. I'll be on the couch."
She stared at him for a few minutes and nodded.
"You're...the best. Take such good care a' me..." she grabbed his face in one hand and lightly shook his head back and forth by the chin, squeezing his cheeks. "Cute little fella. Very pretty."
Felix chuckled and a blush crept onto his cheeks. He picked up her hand off his face, running a thumb over her knuckles. She watched him leave for the kitchen and return with a large mug of water, then gratefully downed it in seconds when he handed it to her.
"There you go,” he sighed, placing the empty mug back on the nightstand. “Now, I don't know how you can ever be comfortable in all this armor, but let me at least make sure you don't have to sleep in it."
He removed her boots and got to work unlatching the plates covering her torso.
"I have to...you need to know. You're…" Tamora put her hands on his shoulders and stared at him, desperately trying to overcome her temporary lack of verbal communication ability.
"I’m not sure I understand. Can you show me what’s going on?"
She hugged him and kissed the base of his neck, patting his back.
"Need to do...something here. It—the words," she sputtered in frustration.
"You're all right. Do you wanna think about...the words while we get ready?"
Tamora nodded and released him.
After a few minutes of decoupling and shifting around the various pieces of her armor, Felix noticed that she had become unusually quiet. Taking his eyes off his work, he looked up to see her staring at him again, pupils dilated. He tried to ignore it and pulled the now-disconnected chestplate off of her, but the action set something off.
"It was this...!" she trailed off as she whipped around, startling him, and pinned him down to the mattress with a sloppy kiss.
The taste alone told him she’d had some of Tapper's strongest, a concoction that had knocked him off his stool from just a sniff when he'd curiously sampled it. Her attempt to unbutton his pajama shirt was quickly abandoned for lack of coordination, in favor of rolling it up.
"You wanna do...like that, Fix-It? Sssomeone's bold today..."
Alarmed, Felix pushed against one shoulder and pulled at the other, trying to roll or twist her off of himself. He could hardly get the leverage to even shift himself around, let alone move her.
"Top, huh. Hafta work for that..."
He shook his head and managed to pull his legs out from under her on either side. Feet flat on the bed, he heaved himself a few inches up and away, causing her to slide off of him and onto the quilt. The motion put enough distance between them for him to brace his hands against her shoulders and nudge her backwards.
"We're not doing that right now! Tam, for goodness' sake you’re in no condition for any of this!"
Something about the panic in his voice and expression stopped her. He very rarely shouted, and realizing that she was the cause of his fear chilled over her amorous state. The room pitched from side to side as she propped herself up on her hands and shifted further away from him.
He worried that his heavy breathing and the inadvertent redness of his cheeks from the kiss would drown out his words. But for an instant, Felix saw realization and shock pass over her face before she grunted out a soft embarrassed noise and rolled over. She shuffled to the far side of the bed, facing away from him.
Catching his breath, the situation caught up with him and made his insides churn. He refused to have that sort of experience with her in her current state, and if she’d regretted it he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself.
He kissed the top of her ear.
"I'm sorry for yelling. But you're not doing very well right now. We'll talk about it in the morning. For now I just need to get you settled."
"Hey...hurts?"
"What hurts?"
She shook her head and pointed over her shoulder at him.
"Me? No, you didn't hurt me. I'm okay. You just...gave me a bit of a fright."
She turned around and fumbled for his hand, kissing his fingers.
"Sorry...brain’s bad. Thought you wanted...I’m sorry."
Of course. She was still Tammy. But he couldn't name what he was feeling. She'd never have gotten to this point in a normal state and she even had the awareness not to hurt him now, inebriated more than he’d ever seen her before.
He ached to communicate, every fiber of him wanting to come up with some right combination of words that would fix this, but he had to remind himself that she wouldn't be able to process it anyway. Felix gave Tamora's hand a squeeze before tucking it into her chest, and smiled feebly.
"I'm going to finish getting you ready to go to sleep, is that okay?"
“Yeah,” She nodded. “S’okay...I won’t move.”
Over the next several minutes he removed the rest of her armor and laid it in a neat pile by the foot of the bed. By the time he left and came back with the refilled mug of water and empty bowl, she was already asleep. He left the items on the nightstand and pulled up her covers, tucking all of the available pillows under her head and shoulders to elevate them and keep her from rolling over.
Seeing her in the condition she was in that night twisted and stabbed at him. If she'd just been injured or gotten into a fight then it'd be obvious how to help. And if it wasn't, he could ask. But this...a constant background noise of low-grade anxiety grew louder at the sight of her obscured vulnerability made physical.
"I don't know what happened out there but have a nice rest, sugarplum," Felix whispered, wiping his eyes before they could produce any tears. He kissed the tip of her nose and left for the couch with an armful of extra sheets.
—
Tagging some of my WIR buddies: @ask-icancraft-it @ashleybenlove @sgtcalhouns @coneygoil @kittysfigurines24 @fix-it-feesh @shitpost-it-tristan @make-it-mavis @datamining-your-heart @nijimarii @scarfboyxiv @secretsocietyofgamejumpers @juanitascribbles @wreckitralphrestart
Let me know if you would like your name added to or removed from the tags for future fics!
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
@dragonprincedrabbles
Nyx + Corvus, Foreboding
Corvus finds out just enough about Soren's kidnapping experience to be pushed over the edge.
Corvus is quick to dislike a person. Easy to rub him up the wrong way. And this elf had done it from a mile away.
Blue hair and heterochromic, an omnipresent shit-eating grin, and non-stop teasing, jabbing, and overall being infuriating.
Soren knows her, it seems, based on the way his jaw set and brow furrowed when he laid eyes on her across the market they passed through, and especially based on the way he heard her following them from abovehead–because of course the oversized harpy had wings–and used Corvus’s chain to yank her down from the sky. Corvus didn’t think he’d ever seen the other Crownguard so angry, so angsty in the way he stomped off to gather firewood when they made camp that night.
With the Skywing sitting across the fire from him, preening her feathered wings. “Naimi-Selari-Nykantia” had been how she’d introduced herself, tacking on a “But you can call me Nyx” as an afterthought.
Nyx was annoying.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she says over the flames, breaking Corvus away from his thoughts.
“How do you know him?” Corvus demands, skipping directly over the small talk.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too,” she grumbles, but adjusts to turn at least part of her attention and body language to him.
“How?” he repeats, letting his hand drift to his chain. The angry red welts along her ankle suggest she has not forgotten how painful it was, and even less likely to want a repeat. All ration seemed to go out the window when it came to Soren. For Corvus, at least.
She shrugs sheepishly, rolling her shoulders and eyes to the sky. “Er, well… Let’s just say a girl’s got to look out for herself, am I right, eh?”
“Tell me how you know Soren,” Corvus hisses, gripping the handle in an attempt to keep himself in check.
“Oh, we went through a good ol’-fashioned pirate kidnapping together,” Nyx says with feigned cheeriness, a sad attempt at a chuckle. “I gave him some information, he let me go free. The little king, handsome dolt, and idiots in love, er- dealt with their situation themselves.”
Corvus’s blood is suddenly boiling hot, as if his skin doesn’t fit right over his bones. Shock and rage fills crevices of his body he hadn’t known existed prior to this moment. What?
Soren had been kidnapped? Ez, too? And Callum and Rayla, judging by the “idiots in love” bit. And none of them had breathed even a word of it?
That’s fine, it’s their business. Really, Corvus tried to tell himself, getting to his feet.
It didn’t work. Soren had been hurt and in danger, and sure, that’s what Crownguards were trained for, but it didn’t mean he was expected to simply be okay.
“You sold them out?” he says, voice nearing a roar. “You sold him out?!”
“Woah, there. Two batches of idiots in love, my mistake,” she mutters, and Corvus is too angry to be flustered about it. “Listen, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Everyone else there had someone looking out for them. Number One’s the only one who’s gonna look out for Number One. Everyone’s selfish.”
Corvus turns to the woods Soren had disappeared into, everything starting to make sense with each puzzle piece falling into place. “Leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“Leave,” he repeats, digging his jagged, worn fingernails into his palms. “I’m going to look for him, and if you’re here when I get back, I’ll kill you. I swear it.”
“Okay, chill out there, Big Guy,” Nyx starts, and he hears her light footsteps approaching him tentatively but quickly.
As her hand goes for his shoulder, Corvus wheels around and grabs her wrist, getting up close and personal. He lets every bit of anger show on his face. “Look me in the eye and try to call my bluff. Look me in the eye and try to reason with me. I’m not messing around.”
Nyx’s wings flutter nervously, and he lets her snatch her wrist out of his grasp. His skin feels dirty, but not from guilt– from touching this monster who’d let Soren get hurt. “Alright, alright! Message received!”
She takes a few steps backward, and Corvus relishes in how she trips over her bag, and, flustered, scramble to start shoving her things into it. “You, eh, might wanna get some anger issues management help. Friendly word of advice.”
“Get out!” Corvus screams, face hot with anger and eyes pricking with tears, ready to strangle her with his bare hands.
“Okay, okay! I’m leaving!” Nyx shoulders her backpack and only makes it a few feet into the air before reconsidering. She comes back down another bit, hesitant with downcast eyes. “Um, be careful with him. He’s a good man. Savor the people you have to look out for and who look out for you.”
Corvus turns away from her. “I will.”
#i don't normally write in present-tense but#here we are!#sorvus#bc i had to and i will ship them long after the end of time#tdp soren#corvus tdp#speculative tdp season 6#fanfic#fanfiction#tdp fanfic#tdp s6#my fic#ficlet#my ficlet#writing prompt#tdp#the dragon prince#hey that man is so calm so naturally i want to see him explode. preferably over smth soren-related#can you tell i like my fictional men down bad?#mine
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay but what if Solas gets freed earlier than the big bad final fight (like we speculate) and he uses his Dread Wolf form in occasional pinches of combat?
And what if he has a moment where he has to deliberately choose his commitment to Rook like he had to do with the Inquisitor? (I'll utilize mine for this case.)
Walk with me. (Spoilery drabble under the cut. Probably OOC tbh.)
They're in a darkspawn infested spot. The objective was to get something. They got it, but now they're retreating back to the eluvian because there are far too many blighted things for them to feasibly fight against—it has infested the place, and Davrin being the only one resistant to it does not accommodate the very real threat of the others possibly being tainted.
So Solas, as one with the most experience of command, calls for a retreat. The rest of the Veilguard have stumbled either through or to the eluvian, watching anxiously as the rest forfeit their hard-won ground to safely draw back to his position as he covers for them.
Rook does not agree.
"It is suicide to stay here!" Solas shouts at her from across the battlefield, his spells as percussive and punctuated as if the Fade was popping through the Veil at his summons. It makes her hair stand on end, raises frissons under her clothes, and the pressure in her ears reminds her of the air tensing before a lightning strike. "We must go!"
"We've almost got them pushed back!" she retorts, all the way on the other side. The steppe is the highest point in the mountainside, and she has been blasting off the darkspawn with shockwaves of arcane energy thus far. "We could recover other things from the ruins!"
"It is not worth it if lives are lost in the process!" Solas snarls, and Rook glances over her shoulder at him with arched brows.
In the middle of the fray, overwhelmed by the surge of darkspawn scuttling over the cliff face like swarming insects, Emmrich stumbles and falls with a yelp.
Rook struggles to concentrate between two points of focus. She is in the middle of her own combat, but her first instinct is to run to the necromancer's side. He's still casting, keeping the infected off of him, but they give no room for him to get back to his feet.
Solas moves, so quickly that Rook did not catch it. Magic surges, tingles on the back of her tongue, and in a flash the Dread Wolf falls into a sprint across the ground glistening with ichor and smattered with decaying flesh and rotting guts.
Rook blasts through the wave clambering to drag her down and watches, slack-jawed, as the great black wolf lunges over Emmrich with a snarl, standing squarely over him with enough room to spare the tall human to right himself and flee to the eluvian unharmed.
Fen'Harel's mighty jaws snap around darkspawn left and right, shaking them to shatter their bones and flinging the battered corpses like rag dolls. Soon enough his teeth are stained with inky, corrupted blood, bits of viscera wedged between his frothing gums, and his six lyrium-blue eyes meet Rook's, resolute and unflinching.
In that moment, Rook knows he will leave her there to save the rest.
A hurlock grabs her ankle. It is half disintegrated by her magic, yet it's still going, still gurgling, still strong enough to yank her foot out from under her. She lands roughly on her back and the air rushes out of her lungs in a pained whoosh, stunning her. Her vision blurs and swims. The steady drain of her mana had already weakened her, in addition to her wounds, but she had bashed her head on the ground, too.
The hurlock intends to bring her down the cliffside with it, she knows. She grits her teeth against the pain and vertigo and bashes the heel of her boot against its face, sending it careening off the edge. Her heart leaps when she rolls over to scramble back up onto her hands and knees and realizes—too late—how close it had dragged her.
Her legs drop out into open air. Her belly scrapes against the slickened stone. Her fingertips dig into the gravel, a biting anchor sure to leave her own blood behind. Her nails might not survive the weight of her entire body hanging on the precipice of a fathomless drop. When she peers down past her shoulder, eyes rounding, and there is nothing but mist and insurmountable depth.
She barely hears her cry of alarm over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. She does not recognize her own voice. She certainly does not anticipate calling out to the bane of her existence as a means to preserve it. "Solas!"
The wind is deafening, rushing past her as though it, too, flees the darkspawn she could sense clawing their way up the mountainside by the dread building in the base of her throat. The wolf had turned to deal with another cluster of darkspawn, but his ears angled towards her before his great head whipped around to spot her where she fell.
Her grip slips. She skids further down in a heart-lurching, precious, hands-breadth of distance. Her shoulders ache with the strain. Her chin drags the edge of the jagged stone. She cannot get a foothold with how the rock curves away from the ledge. She thinks she hears someone hollering her name, somewhere behind the wolf. One of her companions, or multiple—she isn't sure. She can see nothing save the glow of his eyes and the whites rimming them as he stares at her.
"Harellan!" she screams. The insult turned barb turned nickname seems the least fitting thing to use to entreat the man whom she had treated with such utter disdain and irreverence for the first portion of their acquaintance. But it is who he proved himself to be: a rebel with a cause. A man who stops at nothing to do what he feels is right.
One who does not flinch at the idea of sacrifice in favor of victory.
Rook's grip fails her. She scrabbles for purchase to no avail. The stone arches away from her, it seems, and she falls.
She does not see how deep the gouges the Dread Wolf's claws score into the stone when he launches into a sprint aided by his magic, frost fringing the ends of his pelt. She does not see the full stride of his legs stretching and hauling the ground closer to project himself into a lightning-quick gallop across the steppe. She does not see him nearly careen clean off the side of the mountain, barely skidding to a halt in time—back feet digging into the skittering gravel—as his upper half lunges over the edge. She does not see the massive maw of teeth engulf her because she has already squeezed her eyes shut in hopes that she won't know when the ground reaches her.
But the ear-ringing snap of his jowls jolts her out of her shock. If she had died, she could expect it to be dark. Maybe even warm. But wet?
Rook gasps as she's clamped tight in the mouth of the great black wolf. Her orientation becomes muddled, then—she has no concept of what direction is up, where he's going, or even what's going on around them. Any sounds are muffled. She thinks she hears the roar of a beast too big for them to handle in their current state of exhaustion. Her heart hammers against the inside of her ribs, and the rumble that surrounds her sets her nerves alight with prey instinct.
Fen'Harel runs. He leaps. He lands, and it is a jarring, uncoordinated crash into the ground—hopefully across the relatively safe bounds of the eluvian.
"Solas! Where's Rook?"
"Did you catch her? Is she—"
"Did you eat her?"
To answer the clamor of questions ringing in her ears, the wolf's mouth opens. She slides out and collapses on the ground in a gruesome heap of bodily fluids and remains.
"Remind me never to ask you for help again," she croaks. She reaches up and swipes the saliva off her eyelids so she can glare up at the Dread Wolf staring down at her in turn, every last eye trained solely on her. She thinks he is assessing her for damage.
His fur shimmers and she watches, disoriented, as the man reemerges from the shape of the wolf. His armor is battered and his shoulders sag from what is likely too prolonged of a mana drain, but he seems no worse for wear. She is momentarily distracted from him as her companions cluster around her and pull her into a seated position, their hands as busy as their mouths as they fret and curse and express their relief all at once in a raucous cacophony.
Her eyes snap back over to Solas struts promptly over to a hedge, yanks off one of his gauntlets, and proceeds to press a couple fingertips into his mouth and—presumably—onto the back of his tongue. He then wretches into the unsuspecting foliage.
The others fall abruptly silent, stricken and perplexed.
"I feel like I should take this as an insult," Rook remarks, scowling. "Surely I don't taste that bad."
Solas' eyes are red-rimmed and watery when he straightens, and if it weren't for that he would look as composed and dignified as ever. He snatches a potion from his belt and gargles it thoroughly, swishes it around his mouth, then spits it out. He swipes the back of his hand against his lips and scowls at her. "Forgive me if I would rather not be tainted by those blasted creatures!" he snaps, thoroughly rankled.
She knows it's not simply from how terrible darkspawn must taste.
She is proven correct when he stalks back over and kneels before her, the tension in his frame wound so tight she wonders how close he is to snapping his own spine. "Disrobe."
The others part like water at his demanding tone with varying levels of skepticism and disquiet, brooking no argument. But Rook is nothing if not contrary—she opens her mouth to protest, but Solas only lets out a terse, angry sound and reaches for the buckles on her armor.
"Stop!" she growls, slapping his hand away. She swears she sees the vein in his temple throb as he rears back as though she offended him. "What are you talking about?"
"Your clothes have been contaminated," he explains harshly. "The taint binds to organic materials. Being as that you were thoroughly inundated in blighted essence since you were too stubborn to fall back when I said to and relied upon an unfavorable means of rescue, we cannot risk you becoming infected!" He gestures to her clothes. "We will have to burn them. That goes for the rest, as well. I am certain Davrin already knows this."
"It's not exactly something you can wash out," the warden agrees.
"Oh, you have got to be joking!" Rook scoffs. "This is not the first time we've faced off against those bastards! What makes it so different this go around?"
"Your wounds, Fenalan!" Solas snarls. The intensity of his conviction as well as the rattled, unsettled tinge straining his voice makes her clamp her jaw shut. "If any ichor enters your bloodstream, you are doomed! You already tread upon death's door in your obstinance, but now you risk falling victim to something far worse!"
She frowns at him. She has a few scratches here and there, nothing so severe as to warrant such a reaction. She had been battered far worse before, endured wounds much more likely to do her in than hese. Something else had caused Solas to go overboard.
Her mind recalls the memory she had walked here in the Crossroads. The agent in Ghilan'nain's laboratory. The set of Solas' jaw when he had accepted the inevitability of his duty. He could not save her. There was no cure. He had no other option save to put her out of her misery before she truly suffered with the invented abomination.
The same fraught, wild glint in the eyes of his younger image peer directly into her own now. He is angry, yes, undeniably. But he is afraid, too. He does not want to make a sacrifice this day, she thinks.
Her hands shake as she begins to work the buckles loose. The others seem to take that as a sign to follow suit, removing the pieces of their armor that could be salvaged while piling the rest away from the vegetation encroaching upon the old paths winding around the network of mirrors. The metals could be decontaminated. The fabrics crackle and stink when Solas lights them with a curt snap of his hands. They are reduced to ash in seconds from the intensity of his ire, and he contorts the fabric of the Veil to crush that into powder that drifts, inert and harmless, off the ledge of the island in the wind.
The others group loosely together and head toward the Caretaker's dock when Rook tips her head towards it, helping each other along if they were weak or disoriented. No one had suffered grave injuries, thankfully, upon careful inspection. Most of the ichor had stained the outermost layers, so not all of it had to be destroyed, fortunately.
It was tough business, dealing with a mutated double blight.
Rook hung back a moment, waiting for Solas to turn away from the singed, blackened space below his feet. He is still drawn as tense as a bowstring, and does not move until she steps close enough to touch his arm. He pivots away from her hand and his gaze is cold on her.
"Ir abelas," she says. "I did not mean to worry you."
If Solas is taken aback by her admission, he does not convey it. But his shoulders loosen, just slightly. "That mistake almost cost your life, Rook," he says grimly.
"I know. I will endeavor to keep my head next time." She gestures towards the others, their low conversations carried by the breeze despite their distance. "Let's go wash all this shit off, yes?"
Solas looses a heavy exhale. They began to walk together.
"'Ma serannas," she tells him. "I did not think you would save me."
His stride falters briefly, then slows to accommodate her attention. The furrow between his brows eases into incredulity. "Why?"
Perhaps she expected him to confirm that it had not been his intention, that he had only done so because she was somewhat necessary to their mission's success, in the end. That he seems shocked she would even ask unroots her perception of him slightly.
"I rejected your orders," she says simply. "I got carried away. You had every right to leave me behind, but you didn't."
"I did not." Solas studied her for a moment, pensive. "I would not allow you to perish if I have a say in it, Fenalan," he offers after a moment. It is careful. It is measured. Yet she still notices the lack of bite to the words he normally wields when speaking to her. She had cultivated that response, she supposes, with how often she had exchanged verbal jabs with him in the beginning.
"Even if I don't understand your motivations," Rook sighs, "I thank you nevertheless." She swallows. "Ir abelas."
"Tel'abelas, ean'din. I am pleased to see you still live."
"Despite the perpetual headache I pose?"
"Despite that." Solas shakes his head. "I...do not think poorly of you. I would not see you fall into danger unnecessarily. That you can be so reckless and negligent of your own well-being at times is...disconcerting."
Rook cast him a side-eye. "Pot meet kettle. You stop throwing yourself on the line for the rest of us and I'll do the same."
The god of lies, treachery, and rebellion huffed what could have been a laugh. And Rook wonders if Varric would have any light to shed upon why the Dread Wolf was so protective of his unwitting pack, if he would ever admit to such a concept.
#fisara's scrawlings#dav#dragon age#dav spoilers#the dread wolf | solas#the rook#still debating on who I will ship fenalan with#possibly solas. we will see.#so there may be some underlying tension here bc of these internal debates ngl#I didn't mean for this to turn so long but#oh well#here we are#ean'din is my word for 'death bird' suggesting corvids#since...y'know...'rook'.#this is somewhat aimless but the action sequence seemed cool in my head#I don't normally write in present tense so if there's any past that doesn't fit I apologize
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have a sneak peak anyway! (I'm writing this in present tense, which I normally do not do, as an exercise) ---------------------- The past steps out, at once familiar and wrong. The raucous din of too many people of too great importance follows in her wake until the doors click closed, then she is alone. That much at least, is constant. So too are the stripes, the stark black on white that always encircled her. Her ponytail, fulsome and even less contained than before, that too remains and brings an odd comfort to him. Who would she be without it? Who is she now with it though? Her steps are slow, but not timid. The ballerina has returned, poise even when there are no admirers. His green cat’s eyes pick out the thoughtful motes in her blue, it feels wrong. She holds a wine glass, forgotten in one hand. The rosé swirling within carries its notes to his enhanced senses. Perhaps it carries the alcohol too, for despite all his foreboding he commits to his course. Cat Walker coils, and leaps.
:D Yay a sneak peak!
Okay, but I adore how well you painted the scene!! I can see it so clearly in my mind's eye!
Love how you described Chloe, especially since it's coming from Adrien POV and you really captured how long he's known her.
I loved this!! Definitely makes me excited to see what the finished product will be!
#it an ask!#still make sure take all the time that you need!#it's been a bit since i've read one of your fics and i forgot how much i liked your writing style#don't mind me i'm just going to be giggling and kicking my feet and re-reading this for a bit#10/10 sneak peek#also i wouldn't be able to tell that you don't normally write in present-tense if you hadn't said#it's very well-written!
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
what if I just go through the 10k i have written and rewrite it to be in present tense instead of past tense. I just can’t with the past tense, I don’t know how anything works anymore and my sense of pacing and timing is all wonky and AUGH. AUGH. BLECH.
#writing woes#i never intended to become a present tense writer#but want and need felt better that way because then you were more immediately in chay's anxiety#this one I want to be a little more distanced from the anxiety#i don't even know if that makes sense#boy howdy there's a reason y'all aren't getting this fic until it's done#and that reason is because it's a disaster#and i don't know how to stick the landing on this one#which normally resolves itself once i start posting and get a good feel for what people are vibing with#but because of the aforementioned disaster don't feel great about posting it incrementally#but WHAT IF i finish it and then i get inspired through the comments to make a change#so maybe i should just go ahead and start posting
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
rae do you have any tips on like verb tenses when it comes to writing? as an immigrant who never properly learned english grammar i struggle with it so much when im writing fiction especially. i feel like i always mix up tenses and never know when is appropriate to use one over the other idk.
hmmm well i may not be the best person 2 advise on this bc english is my first language so bear that in mind but! it might help to like. consciously pick a single tense that ur gonna write the fic in & then read back over & just pay specific attention 2 verbs & make sure they're all in the same tense. & when doing this i will say i think present tense is generally easier to write in than past tense (even though past tense tends to be the norm in published fiction) bc like. if ur writing a fic in simple present tense then it's easier to be like "ok here i'm talking about past so i can just use simple paste tense and here i can just use simple future tense," whereas if ur writing in past tense u have 2 start pulling out the "had" phrases etc if ur talking abt the past in past-tense & things get more complicated...like it's easier to conjugate "He says it's true. But earlier, he lied." than "He said it was true. But earlier, he had lied." y'know?
i've had cases before where i forgot what tense i was writing in & had to go back through & change everything to match the same tense so i know it can def be a pain lol but that's also why i think like...consciously going "ok i'm writing in present [or whatever u choose] tense" at the beginning of the writing process makes it a bit easier, bc then u know that no matter what ur writing it should be in that tense. & where it gets tricky is when u have to start talking abt past/future/conditionals/etc but like i said i think writing in present tense makes that a bit easier bc it's usually the tense that we're most familiar with & so it can sometimes be easier to figure out "weird" verb conjugations within the present tense. basing this advice also from my experience learning other languages where like...i have a way easier time conjugating simple present/past/future tense than trying 2 get into any of the more complicated grammar lol
#unfortunately verb conjugation is simply one of the biggest struggles in language-learning i fear...#figuring out what verb tense 2 use in my non-native languages is often confusing bc what feels intuitive in my native language#very much does not feel intuitive in my non-native languages lol#so i wish i could give better advice 4 figuring it out in english but 4 me a lot of english is just intuitive...i know what tense 2 use bc#i've spent so much time reading & writing & thinking & speaking in english my entire life etc#BUT. overall ig my main advice is just choose the easiest tense 2 write in & start there#like don't make it harder on urself writing in simple present tense is fine also it's honestly already pretty normal in fic#ask
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
part two
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him.
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly.
“Really?” He’d smile down at you.
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours.
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties.
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin.
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently.
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment.
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties.
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble.
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel.
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress.
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.”
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers.
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“��S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips.
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit.
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady.
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss.
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move.
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps.
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock.
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more.
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly.
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop.
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth.
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x you#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fluff#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x you#my writing
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
I have to have a chuckle at the Screenrant article posted recently about the Galactic Starcruiser, which totally wasn't about Jenny Nicholson's video honest.
In part, because early in Nicholson's video, she talks about how unnatural it is to have your influencers speak in adcopy and copyright rather than the more colloquial nicknames, and how it makes the people speaking about the product seem very insincere and, well, paid off. Because normal humans don't speak that way, but advertising does.
What's the first two lines in this article?
"As a life-long fan of Star Wars, there was nothing quite as exciting as finding out that I would be working on the immersive Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser experience. Located at the Walt Disney World Resort, the Galactic Starcruiser opened on March 1, 2022, and welcomed passengers to board a two-day, two-night cruise through the stars, during which they could live out their own Star Wars adventure."
No one talks like this naturally. No one writes like this naturally.
This is supposed to be your passioned defense of the place you worked at, the people you worked with, and the memories you made along the way. C'mon! Why don't you open with a story, perhaps an anecdote about the best moment you had working there, or the devastation of the day you lost your dream job. We need to feel your humanity! But there's nothing of that here, to the point where you can just hear the TM behind Galactic Starcruiser.
The first half of this article continues in this vein, reading like a press release Disney marketing put out, just with past tense rather than present or future tense:
"Essentially, the Starcruiser experience was a 48-hour movie that passengers were actually a part of. It was all facilitated through the "datapad," which was accessed through the Play Disney Parks app."
"To facilitate the overarching immersive experience and storytelling, the Starcruiser built a jam-packed itinerary for each and every guest that would consist of a variety of important activities: the captain's toast at muster, a bridge training exercise, lightsaber training, and more. These types of events were essential to understanding what was happening, as they would give passengers the chance to interact with characters and build their story. This is why the Starcruiser could never be just a hotel; every part of it was designed for enthusiastic interaction."
Like, c'mon. I used to work in television. I've seen and used adcopy in my former job, and this is some serious adcopy. It honestly wouldn't shock me if the author dredged up some old adcopy they had lying around about the topic and just transferred it over, changing the tense. You're not here to sell us this product, because there is no product to sell. It's gone, it's been gone for a year, you don't have to sell us on IT. Speak about your experiences.
The next part is yet another topic that Jenny Nicholson pointed out, the bad faith excuses that influencers and advertisers made for the extreme price point:
"What many people don't know, however, is that the price included much more than just a room. The passengers' food, park tickets, recreation activities on board, non-alcoholic drinks, and more were all included - with merchandise being one of the few additional costs on board."
Which is absolute bad faith reasoning, especially when there are plenty of other vacation options that are ALSO all-inclusive, but are MUCH cheaper and offer MORE amenities than the Galactic Starcruiser did! Including Disney Cruises, owned by the same company! Seriously, you can go on a halfway decent sounding cruise or all-inclusive resort somewhere warm for, like, a week or two and spend far less than GSC cost.
Then the last part is essentially: "All the workers liked working there and the bad reviews afterwards make the workers who worked on it feel sad. :("
Which, like, companies have been hiding behind that reasoning for ages. Curiously, the author never offers....any reasons or stories. WHY did working on it impact you so much? What set it apart, what were the people like, what did you like about working there, why are you so passionate about it even a year later? There's nothing, just a generic sort of "We worked hard." and "We're sad it's gone." Why? How? What happened? The video you're obviously writing this in response to is filled with personal anecdotes and stories, it's the backbone of the video! Again, you need to give us something to show your humanity!
Especially when you consider that Nicholson repeatedly points out that the only highlight about her experience, the only thing that kept the damn thing going was the workers.
She had nothing but praise for them, and nothing but contempt for the higher ups who wasted and abused that enthusiasm, to the point where one of her last points was "Hey, Disney is basically exploiting labor."
Much like Jenny, I'm also not condemning anyone who had a good time working there. Good! If you were having a good time at work, that's great. If you have good memories about the people, awesome. But I'll note two things:
a) That doesn't meant you weren't being exploited, and
b) That doesn't mean you have to be a useful idiot for the corporation you worked for afterwards.
I'm not conspiracy brained enough to go "Oh, Disney TOTALLY forced this article into being.", because a cursory examination of the author's prior works and such suggests a lifelong passion for Star Wars, she did work at the hotel, and she's a Star Wars Editor (whatever THAT means in this day and age) for Screen Rant. Apparently one of the heads of Screen Rant says that Disney had no hand in it either.
Though, I can see why people would think that way. It READS like a press release, not something a normal human being would write about an experience they feel passionate about.
#jenny nicholson#star wars#galactic starcruiser#disney#screen rant#star wars hotel#disney world#you can't defend with adcopy#you just sound super fake
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
me when i'm editing the first chapter again cuz it pisses me off so fucking much. (i moved a couple paragraphs around, fixed some grammar (AGAIN! UGH!) and got rid of words/sentences that fucked with the flow.)
small announcement about da fic!
Slight adjustments and minor edits have been made to the first chapter of The Jeep Universe! Not sure if anyone cares, but i thought i would document it here just in case anyone notices! They're really minor edits-- grammatical errors and one minor inconsistency about why Ice was the only one in the hospital when Mav woke up! I also fixed all the en dash to em dashes (in all the posted chapters)! finally. whoopsies.
#ok don't get my wrong like the first chapter eats. but some little things were bothering me#guys trust me! it reads so disconnected because mav is so disoriented in the first chapter! guys! believe me!#me when i find ANOTHER thing i wrote in past tense when it was clearly supposed to be in present 😨#stopthatfool writes#more like stopthatfool obsessively edits#someone come talk to me about the fic. i'm dying to yap.#me next in line at the dispensary trying to act normal
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey so i was wondering if maybe you could possibly write me a smutty story with Klaus like about how even though he turned me made me a hybrid or vampire now he still wants to celebrate my birthday? My birthday is on the 29th of August so its literally 4 days away id love that
Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.
Turning wasn't something I had intended to do or wanted really, it was out of necessity that Klaus had given me his blood and it was an accident that I died with it in my system.
Klaus had convinced me to complete the transition, promising to be there with me and for me throughout the highs and lows of vampirism.
In all fairness, he had been with me but sometimes the lows were really low. Especially when it came round to my supposed to be birthday. However I was never going to get older again, there was no point in blowing out some silly candles and making a wish that would never come true. I couldn't celebrate that I was a year closer to any major life event or be able to talk about stupid things like a slight pay rise as I get older.
So when I woke up, and checked to see the dreaded date, I didn't bother getting out of bed. Well not until I felt an arm round my waist, pulling me back against a firm body. My eyes cracked open when his deep voice rumbled from behind my ear.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He muttered, a kiss pressed to the back of my ear and then my cheek before I was rolled over to face him. My face was level with his as he brushed the tip of his nose over mine and I groaned.
"Can we just not?" I mumbled, my voice croaky from sleep but I knew he got it as his brows pulled together and his eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges.
"No, we definitely will." He argued, his face returning to relaxed again as he pecked my lips. "Believe it or not but we all still celebrate our birthdays, Rebekah insists upon it."
"Were calendars even a thing back then?" I ask, still just about coherent and he hummed.
"No...but we had our ways to know...or perhaps we simply chose our birthdays a few years down the line. Nevertheless we celebrate and I refuse to let you go without." He whispered, kissing my temple and offering a smile.
"I've been here ages and haven't seen any of your birthdays, you're lying." I murmured, eyes narrowed.
"Well..." He sighed, a click to his tongue. "We celebrate as often as we can, the past couple months or so have been very complicated to say the least."
"Fine but I better see you with a birthday hat and badge on- when was your birthday?" I question and he sighed.
"March time. Doesn't matter, it isn't about me. This is about you. Now come, the festivities have only just began." He teased before both arms were hoisting me up and over his shoulder like a rag doll making me whine.
"Klaus!" I squirmed but only for a second, I wasn't awake enough to fight him. His hand patted my ass playfully as he carried me out of our room, making my body tense but he shushed me.
"I won't let anyone see this pretty little behind of yours." He chuckled, bringing me down the stairs and spinning me round and placing me on the breakfast stool. My head spun a little, attempting to adjust as a warm plate was placed in front of me by a softly smiling Elijah.
"Congratulations on your birthday, Y/N." He uttered, keeping his voice quiet which I appreciated before Rebekah's voice bellowed out.
"For christs sake Elijah! Just say normal things like 'happy birthday'!" She tutted, rolling her eyes and dropping down beside me. "Happy birthday, darling. It'll be spectacularly, I guarantee." She grinned and I could feel the dread forming as I pushed a smile to my face and bit the end of some bacon to keep my mouth preoccupied so I wouldn't have to find any words to keep the magic of my fantastic birthday alive.
Klaus's hand ruffled my hair, his chuckle a distant sound in the air as he left the room. My head turned to find him but Rebekah was nudging my side.
"Don't look, he's going to get your presents. Keep eating, and try to contain your excitement." She practically bounced beside me, smile brighter than ever as she pulled out a party horn and blew it in my face.
Just seconds later an elastic band snapped under my chin, a card hat on top my head and Hayley kissing my cheek before catching my ear. "Just go with it, it'll get better." She whispered and I listened.
By the time I had finished my breakfast, Klaus was behind me.
I had just slipped off the stool, Elijah had already taken my plate and when I turned around there was an array of differently shaped and sized presents wrapped and displayed across the room. Klaus standing infront of them, slowly coming towards me with a hand outstretched.
I took it after a second and let him lead me over, arms going round me from behind as he lifted the first gift to my hands. "Please...just enjoy yourself." He whispered, nose in my neck.
Presents took a while. By the end I couldn't be upset. Klaus knew me like an open book and had hit every mark possible. Bringing me to tears several times with extra special gifts.
Which was why my face was buried in his chest, eyes closed and fingers curled around his henley as he kissed the top of my head.
I found myself back upstairs soon after, stripped bare and soaking peacefully in the bathtub whilst Rebekah and Hayley yelled through the next room, going on about the party they had planned.
The dress Rebekah had designed fit like a glove and I couldn't deny how beautiful I felt in it, especially once the girls had done my hair and makeup.
"Everything's perfect." Bekah uttered, hands fixing the last few strands and checking the hairspray had set.
"Klaus is gonna go crazy." Hayley whistled and my eyes rolled though a smile pulled at my face.
They were right too, he was all over me as soon as I got to the bottom of the staircase. Lips kissing mine and hands on my hips, gripping them like he usually does in the depths of our room.
"Happy birthday, my love." He whispered and I hummed before adjusting his bowtie.
"You are adorable when you dress up." I teased and he smirked.
"You may never cease to surprise me with your...unique compliments for me." He chuckled and I hummed, kissing him again.
"Lets go dance." I whispered and he shook his head with a grin.
"Birthday toasts, my love." He told me and I groaned softly as I pulled him over to where everyone was spinning each other around happily. He relented of course and gave into a few dances before pulling me onto the stair case and having me held to his side whilst he toasted my birthday before his siblings and Hayley followed. All expressing their appreciation and love for me.
It was quite lovely actually. I was glad to have celebrated my birthday when I hugged each of them before we all got back on the floor.
So many people had brought me gifts, said such kind words and I had to wonder if they were compelled but I didn't even care by the end of the day when Klaus had me held against the wall. Mouth on my neck, sucking his beautiful marks into my skin and hands bunching up my dress.
I could still hear the music and chatter of guests just a wall over as his fingers stroked their way up my thighs. I could feel the warmth spreading through my body. I clung onto his suit jacket, tugging relentlessly with need as I tried to contain the moans that clawed up my throat.
A gasp escaped me as his teeth bit my skin, not his vampire teeth but his human ones. Not quite making me bleed but still breaking the skin.
I tried to pull him closer, my legs pulling at his waist letting me feel how hard he was against me.
"Oh god" I breathed, my eyes looking down quickly but all I could see was dress as he ground himself against me.
"You have no idea how badly I want to take you right now." He whispered and I moaned softly.
"God..yes, do it." I begged and he hummed.
"Not yet...you need your gift." He muttered before he was holding the backs of my thighs tightly. I glanced at him, confused before groaning softly as he got down to his knees and placed both my legs over his shoulders.
"Klaus..." I whispered as his head was completely covered by the skirt of my dress.
Despite not being able to see him, there was absolutely no doubt he was there as the heat of his treasured mouth kissed my wetness through my thong. God he was good, he was always so good.
If euphoria were a person, it would be Klaus.
He knew exactly what to do, how to touch, how to love me so good that I love myself too.
My hands pressed to the walls around and my head went back to rest. He was pure heat between my legs and he made my legs shake against my will.
"One day you're gonna really kill me." I whispered, my words a blur as I felt my back arch off of the wall behind. I could feel his lips move against my cunt as he mumbled something back. The wet vibrations of his mouth making my insides twist delightfully. "God- fuck!" I cried as he chuckled, only adding to the intensity.
A laugh escaped him whilst he pulled his face away though my dress still hid him from my view.
"You'll alert the whole party if you keep screaming sweetheart." He reminded and I nodded in acknowledgment. My mouth closed in an attempt to muffle my sounds as the warm touch of his fingers stroked my pussy tauntingly.
I felt blood pool my mouth when my fangs sunk into my own tongue in time with his fingers plunging inside me. He made my nails penetrate my palms; a shiver to run down my spine.
My mind drew a blank at the methodic pump of his fingers, each curl and stroke hitting so unbelievably perfect that I seemed to be falling apart before he'd truly even started.
His laugh was amused and teasing as my legs were dropped to his waist where both his hands grabbed my thighs.
"I'm very serious when I tell you that the entirety of next door just heard you my love." He grinned before lifting my as he got to his feet and carried me to our room.
I was dropped to the bed with a soft thud, his body covering me like a blanket would as he nuzzled beneath my ear. "You know...I sincerely considered wearing a ribbon for you, my love." He murmured making me giggle at the idea.
"Oh yeah? Where would you have worn it?" I teased, my hands lifting to cup his face; my thumbs brushing over his stubble. "What part of you would I have gotten to unwrap." I whispered and a soft rumble travelled through his body.
No words left him as I felt my dress be tugged, a quick rough tug which caused a loud tear to sound through the room. I didn't have to look to know the extent of his damage, the cool air spreading down my front told me enough. His hands pulled the loose material away, leaving me completely bare beneath him. Open to him in all ways.
"Must you always break things?" I whined, despite not truly being annoyed.
"Oh love. I don't break things, I ruin them." He uttered, his words sharp on his tongue as his calloused hand stroked the side of my face. "Now lay back, my love, and let me ruin you."
I knew it wasn't a question but a demand and a demand that shot straight to my core.
The silence rang as I laid back, head against the pillows.
I accepted my fate wholeheartedly, and under no circumstances would I even consider skipping out on my birthday next year if I knew this was coming.
————————————————————————
You have no idea how sorry I am for this being so god damn late. I know it’s not my best, I hope it’s still something that can make you smile even just a little bit @nerdygamer829
#klaus mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikealson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaleson imagine#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#niklaus imagines#tvd klaus#niklaus mikaelson#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus michaelson#tvd universe#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson headcanon#klaus mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikaelson x yn#klaus mikealson x reader#soft!klaus mikaelson#birthday#klaus mikaelson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson smut#klaus mikaelson imagine
317 notes
·
View notes
Text
❀Late Bloomer❀
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: You are late to enter society, but that doesn't mean you don't catch anyone's eye...
Request: Nope
Author’s Note: Sooo I'm really bad about disappearing. But recently I've been binging Bridgerton and been in the mood to write, so here we are!
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: None, just fluff here
Buy me a Ko-Fi
!I don’t own this gif!
Dearest Reader,
It has come to my attention that a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), youngest daughter to Baron Arthur (Y/L/N), is making her debut, mid-season. Not only that, but she is almost one and twenty!
While this author cannot see the future, she can certainly predict it (and I do predict it well) - this season will be nothing if not eventful for Baron (Y/L/N) children.
—
As you stepped into the ballroom, the flutter in your stomach threatened to escape from your mouth.
Lady Whistledown had come out this morning, and your mother was enthralled by the mere mention of your name. This made her fuss over you all day, needing to make your debut even more ‘perfect.’
You tried on three different dresses before the right one was picked out. You had five hairstyles tried out before your mother decided on the very first one. You had spent two hours out in search of the perfect matching earrings and necklace.
You were exhausted by the time you had to get ready, and severely tense as you arrived at Lady Danbury’s ball.
Cassandra, your sister-in-law, squeezed your arm softly. “Take a deep breath. This is just a party.”
You quickly took a breath, sighing it out. “That is easy for you to say. You married my brother in your first season after courting for a week.”
Cassie opened her mouth probably to give you more words of encouragement when your brother butted in. “We cannot stand here and talk all night. You need to present yourself to suitors.”
Before you could even think about protesting, Matthew walked ahead of you with Cassie on his arm, leaving you to trail behind.
—
“That there is Miss Buchan, she’s the only child of Earl Buchan.” The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton was discreetly pointing out young ladies to her two eldest sons, whose attentions would rather be anywhere else.
Benedict was scanning the room for someone he could use to politely excuse himself from his mother’s matchmaking.
It would be an understatement to say he wasn’t interested in marrying yet. He had just recently started at Art School and wanted nothing more than to enjoy his work as a bachelor.
That’s when he spotted Lady Danbury. Normally he avoided the woman, as she could be as scheming as his mother, but she seemed like his only refuge.
“Excuse me, Mother, but I believe I should give my regards to Lady Danbury for the invite.” Benedict bowed to Violet before quickly heading off in the direction of the hostess.
He thought about turning away last minute, evading all the prying eyes of those who might want to set him up, but something caught his attention - the once-alone lady of the house was now talking with a young lady. One he had yet to see in the sea of lovely debutantes.
“Mr. Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury’s distinct voice cleared his mind as he approached. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She knew better than anyone that the Bridgerton boys tried to avoid her at these balls.
Benedict bowed, offering a smile. “Lady Danbury, I just wanted to compliment your wonderful party.”
Lady Danbury raised her, knowing that there was an ulterior motive. She glanced at where Violet Bridgerton was standing with her eldest, noticing her eyes were following her second child.
She flashed a scheming smile and turned her attention back to the young lady she was with. “Where are my manners? Miss (Y/N), this is Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton, may I present to you Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N). This is her first ball, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to your mother.”
She gave him a little pat on the shoulder, pushing him towards you as she went to Violet.
You lightly curtseyed as Benedict bowed his head to you. As you stood up straight, you froze, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the man’s features, stunned that someone such as him could be before you.
“Miss (Y/L/N).” He took your gloved hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing the gentlest kiss one could muster.
“Mr. Bridgerton,” you returned, not knowing what else to say. He had captured any words that might formulate within you.
His grasp lingered on your hand, longer than one might consider proper. It was good that the two of you were sequestered to the back of the ball.
At least you had thought you were hidden away.
A hand and sudden voice from behind told you how wrong you were.
“(Y/N), we have been looking for you. We turned around and you had disappeared.” Cassie let go of her husband to take your arm. “Who might you be talking to?” She asked, hiding the joy she felt for her best friend talking to a very eligible bachelor.
Benedict bowed to her and introduced himself before you could do it. “Benedict Bridgerton, at your service.” He joked lightly, and you bit your lip softly as you smiled.
“Bridgerton,” Matthew said as he bowed his head. “I’ve done quite a bit of business with your brother.”
If it wasn’t for Cassie being between you, you would have elbowed your brother right in the ribs for creating such a boring conversation.
Luckily, Cassie was thinking similarly enough to you. “Now now, my love. I’m sure Mr. Bridgerton does not need to hear about his own brother.”
Benedict chuckled, agreeing with her. “Yes, well, as well not needing to hear from him.” He joked, just as a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Well, Brother, maybe I shall take a look at your allowance?” Viscount Bridgerton came up out of the blue.
It seems as though each of your siblings was trying to prevent the two of you from speaking.
And they just kept coming.
Eloise Bridgerton arrived next, in an effort to escape from her mother. “Anthony, Benedict, you really must not leave me alone with Mama.” She sounded sort of breathless as if she had rushed here.
You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling parched. “Pardon me…” You muttered to no one in particular. Matthew and the Viscount seemed to be conversing about business, while Eloise tried to convince Benedict to return to their mother for her.
Cassie silently went along with you, still holding your arm.
You were silent as you made your way to the refreshments table, grabbing the first glass in front of you. You tried to appear as ladylike as possible while you practically gulped down the lemonade.
“I am so sorry for our interruption, (Y/N),” Cassie said after you had finished. “I did not realize you were speaking with a Bridgerton.”
You shook your head, setting the glass down. “It’s alright. We didn’t really start to converse yet.” Not that you had the chance.
She picked up a glass herself and took a sip, her thoughts lingering. “You seemed… quite enamored with him.”
You scoffed, but not in a way to be rude. “Did you even look at him, Cassie? He’s…” You were at a loss for words as your gaze landed back on the Bridgerton in question. His eyes were wandering, ignoring both of your brothers. They wandered and wandered… until they eventually landed.
On you.
Your eyes met for the second time that night, but this time you quickly looked away, cheeks growing hot.
That wasn’t before you noticed his perk up and began heading in your direction.
“Cassie, he’s coming over here. What do I do?” You ask in a panic. The only men you’ve ever really talked to were your father and brother, and neither counted towards this.
She put both hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Just be yourself.”
That’s the best advice you have, you thought to yourself.
You barely had the time to think up a response when Benedict made it to you, bowing his head again in greeting. “Mrs. and Miss (Y/L/N).”
You both courtesy, Cassie standing up before you. “I believe my husband needs me.” She says before snicking off, leaving you two alone.
“Mr. Bridgerton,” you say after a moment, lifting your eyes to take a look at his features. Features that seem to be drilled into your mind from the beginning of the night. “Has my brother bored you so much you seek me out?” You joke in a self-deprecating manner, knowing you aren’t exactly worthy of his attention.
He smiled at your humor but shook his head. “Our brothers together are an apparent force to be reckoned with, but it is not them that brings me here. It’s you.”
Your breath caught in your chest at those last two words.
He actually wanted to be around you. There is nothing you could’ve hoped for more.
He looked around your surroundings before having you take his arm. “It gets so stuffy in here, does it not? Let us get some fresh air.”
“Just the two of us?” You asked with raised eyebrows. You had never been left, unchaperoned; yet the thought of it, with Benedict… it excited you.
He smiled a crooked but sweet smile. “Only if we leave now, while no one’s watching.”
You smile back, looking around as you follow him quickly into the hall before going out a backdoor into the gardens.
In the first few moments you observed him under the moonlight, your whole future played out. Everything centered around him.
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton x you#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fanfic#bridgerton imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#imagine
375 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?
Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.
A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔
Dick:
His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day, it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.
Jason:
Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw. It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.
Tim:
Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.
#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#red robin dc#red robin x reader
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
18+
Eddie Munson x flexible! reader, AFAB reader, allusions to PIV sex
Eddie finds out you're double jointed.
A/N: This one's super self indulgent because I'm very bendy and I felt like writing about it. Also they smoke weed but everything's consensual✌️
"C'mon, there's gotta be something about you I don't know already", he prompts after another smoky exhale, blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It wisps out into the evening air beyond the back doors of his van, opened out to overlook a moon dappled lover's lake.
This is what the conversation had dwindled down to after having spent the whole day together, most other talking points already stretched thin by now.
Usually you would have considered the question more carefully but now that your intuition's been dulled by his stash, you search through the foggy corridors of your mind for an answer like you're feeling around for a light switch in the dark.
Eddie has been your closest friend for the better part of five years now and you weren't exactly a closed book by any means which made coming up with something all the more difficult.
Most of what comes to mind feels too mundane to mention so you pass them over in favor of searching for something that might pique his interest.
"Hmm, I'm kind of double jointed I guess", you slowly recalled, too mellowed out to realize the kind of implications something like that might carry to a man like Eddie.
But where there should have been raised eyebrows and a lascivious curve on his lips you find his eyes narrowing into a puzzled little squint instead as he looks at you from where he's leaned against the back of the driver's seat.
"But we've only had one", he turns the joint in his hand over to examine it closer as if a second one might be hidden somewhere underneath.
Maybe you'd given him too much credit.
You roll your eyes at him playfully, leaning closer on your hands and knees to pluck the joint out of his hand and take another puff. The weed might have made him a little slow and sluggish to fully comprehend your what you'd just shared with him but not enough to prevent him from sneaking a peek at your cleavage from this angle.
"No Eddie, it just means I'm flexible. Like, a little more than most people", you return to your side of the van, leaning back against the side door with your knees pulled up to your chest.
"So, like the splits?"
"More than that"
"More?", his eyes go wide and you can see a hint of redness bordering his sclera, certain the same tinge is present in own eyes too.
"Yeah, like check this out", you hand him back the last of the joint for him to finish off and put out. Holding up your left hand, you fold your thumb into your palm and gather the rest of your fingers with your right hand, slowly bending them back beyond what he thought to be your limit.
The unnatural arc might have unsettled anyone else but not Eddie and you begin to giggle when his face lights up instead of twisting into a wince.
"Shit, does that hurt?"
"Nope", you start to beam a little, letting him take your hand in his when he reaches for it eagerly.
Carefully, he manipulates them, making them bend in all kinds of ways; touching your thumb to your forearm, pushing the first joint of each finger back as far as possible.
"Oh that's fucked", he smiles big and wide as if he could gladly spend an entire day just messing around with your fingers.
"What else can you do?"
His impress fills you with a new kind of high, one much more heady than the weed and you fail to resist it now that you've gotten a taste.
"Mm, I can get my legs behind my head too", you shrug, this time much more aware of what you're divulging.
"Seriously? both of them?", he manages to ask calmly enough though you can almost feel him buzzing under his skin like a cicada about to take flight.
"Yeah, don't even really have to stretch to do it"
His jaw tenses, his normally expressive face unreadable before he quietly asks, "can I see?"
Oh this is dangerous. You feel like you're entering uncharted territory in your friendship but you like the look stirring in his eyes too much to deny him.
"Maybe just one", you offer, thankful that you're wearing your cotton shorts today instead of something denim.
Sitting criss cross on the old blanket he uses to carpet the back of his van for smoke sessions, you slip off your flip flops and place both hands on your right foot. With your left hand cradling the ball of your foot and your right hand gripping your heel, you begin to lift your leg up past your chest.
The underside of your thigh which he only gets to secretly ogle on days when you're dressed like this is bared to him as you get your calf over your shoulder, no trace of pain or discomfort on your face. Dropping your right hand, you duck your head slightly to maneuver your foot over it with your left hand then it's done. Your foot slips into place behind your head, heel nudging the nape of your neck. You're able to straighten up to look him in the eye, shooting him a wink while you wiggle your toes.
"There. Not so hard", you can't help but show off, drunk on the stunned look etched on Eddie's face.
And then his eyes trailed lower.
He does it quickly -- a mental snapshot that he'll file away for later. He memorizes the way your shorts have ridden up, so tight around your core he can make out the print of your underwear and the shape of your cunt beneath the stretched out fabric, wishing he could rip the stitches of the offending material apart and fit his tongue there instead.
Pleased with your display, you untangle yourself smoothly, limbs returning to their rightful alignments as Eddie takes a few seconds to blink himself out of his thoughts. His entirely non platonic, downright debaucherous thoughts.
"Woah that was...wow", he settles, pressing his lips together before his motormouth revs up and he lets out something he'll regret. 'You're like a sexy stretch Armstrong', nearly makes its way through but he's able to bite on to it and swallow it back down just in time.
"You're the first guy I've ever shown that to", you laugh but it comes out a little weak now that you're processing what you've just done.
"Seriously? what about Mark?", he asks, face scrunching up slightly like the name left a bad taste in Eddie's mouth.
The mention of your last ex sobers you up even more. "No, I never told him", you tell him simply, smothering down a laugh. The truth was Mark's idea of kinky was leaving the lights on so you never brought up your little contortionist act, afraid it would be too much for him to handle.
"Don't think he would have been into it", you tell Eddie instead and he looks back at you, deadpanned.
"What?"
"Sorry I just find that really hard to believe", he clears his throat, barely disguising his own interest.
The silence that follows has a certain weight to it. It's a familiar kind of weight that you've felt before on days when you're alone with Eddie and the line between friends and something more begins to blur. The weight of possibility.
"Always wanted to try it", you add, hoping like hell that you haven't misread that hungry look in his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I don't know just seems like it could be...fun?", you shrug, a not entirely successful attempt at appearing nonchalant because you've begun to sweat. The van feels far too small all of a sudden which doesn't make sense because you're nowhere near as close as you would like to be with the boy who's seems to be stuck on what to say next.
Call it a leap of faith or call it a huge fucking mistake but you decide to take the plunge and ask him the question that's been beating on the inside of your cranium like a hammer on a nail.
"Eddie, would it be weird if I ask you to-"
"Yes", he answers quickly. Resolutely.
The swiftness of it hurts like a guillotine coming down on your heart -- shot down before you'd even finished the question so you swallow down your regret like a throatful of gravel.
"R-right. Yeah I know it was stupid of me to even try to-"
He doesn't know where he went wrong until he sees your bottom lip tremble and the confidence you'd worn up until now completely strip away, realizing you've mistaken him eagerly jumping the gun for flat out rejection.
Eddie's hands come down on your shoulders as he bolts up to kneel in front of you, shaking you to shock the tears away before they have a chance rise and turn your eyes glassy.
"No! I mean yes, it's not not weird but I don't care because YES, I want to um, do that with you… is what I meant"
His grip eases up but his eyes stay wide to read your expression, chest no longer feeling like an anvil had been dropped on it when a smile breaks out on your face, the kind that feels like it could reach beyond his ribcage and touch his heart.
"Really?", you ask, somehow understanding him perfectly. If there was anyone who could make sense of Eddie's nonsense it was you.
"I mean, if you want to...", he leans closer when he catches you looking at his lips.
"I do want to", you lean in too, hands smoothing up his chest, bringing your lips closer to his.
For all the effort he put into keeping his unfiltered thoughts from spilling out it's just his luck that he stumbles over the very last hurdle before the finishing line.
"Oh my god I'm going to fold you like a pretzel"
It's so abrupt and silly and just so Eddie that you can't help but laugh, dropping your head. His lips skim your forehead and he laughs too, both of you holding each other, locked in a giggle fit until it tapers and subsides.
When you do look back up the heat that had been there before his gaffe returns tenfold. "Maybe leave the dirty talk to me", you place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a proper kiss.
716 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay, hear me out: CharmingHearts Time Loop AU.
Because Rise of Red has me in a fucking chokehold, and I am letting myself be strangled.
(This is a fic I'm in the process of writing - unfortunately it might take a bit since I don't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. the life of the only rise of red fan in the friendgroup :D)
The day of the coup begins as per normal.
It's September 1st. Red wakes up in her room.
She gets dressed and heads down to the courtyard, watching one of the newer card soldiers - a 6 of Spades - nearly trip over the carpet on the way there.
She attends court. The Jack of Diamonds nearly gets executed at her command - until Maddox shows up right on time and presents the Queen of Hearts with King Ben's Letter of Invitation. So they go to Auradon Prep, The Queen of Hearts gets her deck of cards past the guards at the entrance, Red watches Bridget and Ella get their "reunion" -- and meets Chloe for the first time in the process -- and then witnesses her mother stage a violent coup against Auradon, and gets coerced into sentencing Cinderella to death.
Now an innocent woman is going to die, everyone thinks that she's just like her mom, and that girl - Chloe Charming, her name was? - has her sword drawn, and is seemingly about to go on a suicide charge to try and attack the Queen of Hearts.
Red panics and activates the time machine she stole from Maddox.
Except this time, in this universe, the pocket watch doesn't quite have the effect that Maddox intended. In this universe, something goes wrong.
It's September 1st. Red wakes up in her room.
She watches the 6 of Spades trip over the carpet. She watches the Jack of Diamonds get dragged off to the dungeon - again.
She watches the invitation to Auradon arrive.
She watches her mother sneak the cards through the checkpoint, watches Bridget and Ella's tense conversation.
She meets Chloe, again.
This time, Red knows what's going to happen - what she needs to do. So during the ceremony, she steals her mother's deck of cards, attempting to prevent the coup from occurring. Except the Card Soldiers don't seem to care what hand the deck is in - they come when their Queen calls, ever loyal - ever fearful.
So the coup happens again, despite her efforts.
This time, she refuses to sentence Cinderella to death. So her mother, furious, has the guards lock her in what was initially intended to be her and Chloe's dorm room until she "decides what to do with her".
No matter. She messed up this time, but she knows better now. All she needs to do is --
.
The pocket watch doesn't work.
She clicks it - once, twice, three times. Nothing. No flash of light, no spiral back in time, nothing.
She's failed.
Red watches Cinderella's execution from her dorm - what would have been her dorm, if she hadn't failed, hadn't wasted the opportunity given to her, if she had just been a little bit stronger. She watches Chloe lunge at the Queen of Hearts - now the Queen of Auradon - with her sword drawn, only to be dragged off to God-Knows-Where.
She can't bring herself to think.
She just lies down on what would have been her bed, and before she knows it, she's asleep.
----
Red wakes up in her room.
It's September 1st.
It's still September 1st.
What the fuck?
----
It takes about two more resets before Red finally comes to terms with her situation - an embarrassingly long time, though if you think about it, it technically hasn't been very long at all.
On the 3rd loop, she tries to steal the cards from her mother before they set off for Auradon. That doesn't work - they just end up in her hands again, somehow.
On the 4th, 5th and 6th, she tries to warn the guards about the coup. Every single time, she gets laughed off - or worse, caught and punished.
On the 7th loop, she tries to warn Cinderella. Keyword, tries.
Her mother doesn't even let her get close enough to speak.
It's on the 8th loop that Red finds out she can't die - when she tries to physically stop her mother from unleashing her soldiers, and ends up sentenced to be beheaded for for treason alongside Cinderella.
She wakes up the morning of the 1st of September with a jagged scar looping around her throat.
On the 9th loop, she starts talking to Chloe.
It's hard, at first. Small talk, almost painful in it's awkwardness - the tension between their parents certainly doesn't help.
It's hard the second time too, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. She's not used to talking to someone who isn't subservient, isn't scared out of their wits of the terror her mother brings.
(She's not used to talking to someone who's genuinely nice to her.)
(She's not used to being genuinely nice to someone, either. Even despite the pang of guilt that Chloe's hurt expression puts through her chest every time she says something wrong, every time she fucks up.)
But day by day, reset by reset, Red starts to learn more.
She learns that Chloe's favourite colour is, unsurprisingly, blue. She learns that her Father's name is Christopher, and that she has an adoptive brother named Chad. She learns that she's planning on joining Auradon's Swords and Shields club.
She learns that one of her biggest dreams in life, above anything else, is to become a hero - a Knight.
(The brave, blue idiot. Of course it is. She's seen Chloe charge at her mother with naught but a sword and a roar of righteous fury at least 5 times now.)
(She's seen her get run through with a spear in retaliation for 3 of them.)
(She's seen her get beheaded for it once.)
The loops keep coming. Red keeps failing. But talking to Chloe makes it ever so slightly more bearable.
Even so, it does hurt sometimes, to know the Princess so well when she never, ever remembers Red in turn. To watch Chloe die or be imprisoned at her mother's hand again and again, to see the betrayal in her eyes - betrayal that turns to shock and horror in the fading corners of Red's vision after she grabs the nearest Card Soldier's spear and drives it through her own chest.
(What? It's a more efficient method than just going to sleep.)
The day repeats, over and over. Red keeps learning more and more about Princess Charming. She keeps trying to save her, over and over.
It doesn't work. It never does.
( "I'm going to fix this," she swears, on the 20th loop - while they sit together in a cell, awaiting their inevitable executions.
Chloe almost laughs at the notion - but something in the Princess of Wonderland's eyes makes her want to believe her.
When they get dragged out to the courtyard and forced onto the chopping block, when Red takes her hand in hers and offers her a cocky, confident grin, she almost does.)
Red keeps trying anyway.
Because any amount of deaths, any amount of executions, any amount of resets, is a fair price to pay to give Chloe a better outcome than this.
It's the very least she can do for her only friend.
#descendants 4#descendants#descendants rise of red#rise of red#chloe charming#red of hearts#red x chloe#glassheart#charminghearts#chloe x red#glassrose#disney descendants#time loop au#red is having a terrible time#as is chloe but she doesn't remember it (yet)
169 notes
·
View notes
Text
Public love
Prompt (I accidentally deleted the ask sorry): could you do a short story about Paige accepting an award and telling everyone that Azzi and her are dating?
a/n: guys I'm trying to finish all my recent asks in my inbox I swear. Life's been lifin' all of the sudden and I barely have time to write so apologies for that. Got a lot of drafts that I'm working on rn.
Warning: Paige is a yapper. Some spelling mistakes (hopefully not). A bit rushed tbh
“You look hilarious,” Azzi giggled, staring at her phone screen where their FaceTime call was running.
“Thanks, Azzi,” Paige deadpanned, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She wiped her palms on her pants, only for Brittany to swat her hands away, scolding her.
Azzi's smile softened as Paige protested, her eyebrows furrowing. “You know you don't have to do this, right?”
“Don't start with that, Azzi,” Paige's exasperated tone didn't go unnoticed as she wiped her hands on a nearby towel. “We agreed that today was the day.”
Azzi threw her hands up in defeat, her smile unwavering. “I'm just saying.”
Paige had underestimated how bad her nerves would flare up at the idea of stepping onto a stage full of legends, with cameras recording her every move, to profess her love for her girlfriend to the whole entire world to see. It had been a tough conversation, but Azzi had convinced Paige to wait until the season was over, when they were no longer teammates.
“I'll do it, just you watch.” Suddenly, the normal confidence Paige always had resurfaced as a smug look settled on her face.
Azzi could still see through the facade.
“Hey, you know it's already on in the living room,” Azzi said, flipping the camera to show the TV. It showed the red carpet, which was almost over, and Paige's panic returned.
“Gosh, I just wish you were here.” Paige set her phone in front of her, properly showing her whole upper body to Azzi. She looked stunning. The blonde hunched over, taking a deep breath. “It would be easier.”
“You know I would be there if I could, babe. Something came up.” For a moment, there was complete silence, except for the rustling of Azzi dropping onto her sofa. “Plus, I won't have like… a million cameras shoved in my face. Which is nice.”
“Yeah, you're right.”
“Alright, you two, we gotta wrap it up. Paige, you're up in a few.” Brittany's voice startled the blood out of Paige's face as she flinched.
Azzi giggled. “I'll get going. And Paige… just do what feels right when you get up there, okay?”
“Yeah. I'll try.” She cleared her throat. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Paige.”
______
Paige was totally not ready for it. As the awards passed one by one, she found it increasingly harder to stay still in her seat.
“Bro, do you have ants on your ass or something?” Aubrey chuckled, whispering towards Paige.
“Something like that.” Paige adjusted her suit, applying pressure to her chest. She felt like she was going to throw up.
“Seriously, you good?” From her other side, Ice whispered, her expression a bit more worried than Aubrey's. Even with the makeup, Paige looked pale as a ghost.
“I'm good.”
Aubrey and Ice exchanged questioning looks as Paige didn't even bother to glance at them, her eyes glued to the presenters.
The lump in her throat grew until it was hard to swallow. She tensed when her phone buzzed in her pants.
From: Azzi
You look nervous, babe. [Attached image]
Paige opened the image, seeing a picture of her on the tv screen, jaw clenched and eyes wide.
From: Paige
I look crazy.
From: Azzi
You don't have to do this, Paige.
From: Paige
I want to, Azzi.
Do you not want me to?
From: Azzi
Of course I do.
From: Paige
That's all the I need to hear then.
From: Azzi
I just don't want you to feel stressed or obligated.
Especially in front of such an important stage and audience.
From: Paige
Then it's decided.
“Hey!” CD whispered from behind her. “Put your phone away, missy. This isn't the place for texting.”
“Sorry CD.” Paige rubs the back of her neck, feeling a bit embarrassed to have been called out at such an age. She put her phone away and heard the next award being announced.
Best female college athlete.
Paige straightens up, silently thanking CD from snapping her out of her little daydream. They went through the nominees, teasing the winner before finally announcing the long-awaited name.
Paige Bueckers from the University of Connecticut.
The crowd burst into cheers as Paige let out a huff of air and made her way through the row after a few hugs from her teammates.
She shuffled through the rows and climbed to the stage, where she was met with a few hugs and finally her trophy.
“Wow.” She huffs, looking around the venue, “I would like to start by saying that it's an honor to be able to receive this amazing award for a second time. I can't express just how much it means to stand here after all the hardships thrown my way.”
Speaking to such an intimidating crowd, knowing there were thousands watching from their homes, never got easier for Paige.
“Second, I'd like to thank my family. Thank you for sticking by my side and being my anchor through everything. Without them, I wouldn't be standing here today. And to my teammates, who have been my rock. They were a force to be reckoned with all season, and it was thanks to them that we brought home a championship.”
The crowd hung on her every word.
“It's no secret the injuries that have plagued our team these past seasons and even me a few years ago. It felt liberating knowing that if I ever fell, they would be there to pick me up and I don't think I could ever express how much I love those girls and just how much they mean to me”
Paige thought of Azzi at home, watching her, and the basketball legends before her. She traced the lines of the trophy, clearing her throat.
“To my coaches, who weren't afraid to show me tough love, I appreciate you all. It made my time at Connecticut all the more enjoyable. To Geno, who didn't shy away from telling me how to be the best and how to make those around me be better. I’m glad that I'll be able to call Uconn my home for as long as I live because it's an honor. Whether it sounds odd, I thank God that I tore my ACL while surrounded by such an amazing family because I wouldn't have been able to bounce back in such a dominant manner."
It was now or never.
“One of the main reasons I'm eternally grateful for this program is because I was able to build a deeper relationship with a teammate who you all may know very well,” Paige shifts her hands, feeling them sweat again. “We went through the same injury, and everything was easier to navigate with her around because we just got each other and knew what we were going through. I want to thank her for her love and unconditional support because she deserves that and more. She picked me up when it felt impossible."
She chuckled. Paige had been on big stages many times, but this felt different. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift as the blood rushed to her ears, muffling the sounds around her. Her surroundings faded as she locked eyes with the big camera before her.
“That's why... I would like to thank my amazing girlfriend, Azzi Fudd, in front of everyone here today because she deserves the world.” Paige hears the muffled sound of gasps and cheers. “So, because I know she's home watching, I love you, baby. None of this would be possible without you.”
Paige took a deep breath, feeling a crushing weight lift off her chest. It was done.
She smiled for the first time that night and looked away from the camera, addressing the crowd. “Thank you for this award. I'll cut my speech short since I know it's running a bit long.” Laughter spread through the crowd, but most looked shocked, especially her teammates. She lifted her trophy with a smile, realizing how little she cared about anyone's opinion. “Thank you.”
______
“Didn't think you had it in you,” Caroline said, opening the door to Paige's makeup room. “Seriously, dude. Getting up there and just saying, 'oh, and I'm dating my bestie by the way' is crazy”
Paige deflated in her chair. After her speech, she had been ushered away for pictures and questions and hadn't heard from her teammates. She hadn't even checked her phone which was undoubtedly flooded with missed calls and messages.
“I wanted to throw up.”
Then, as if on cue, Aubrey, Ice, and KK entered together. “Dude, what the fuck was that?” KK screamed, laughing together with Ice. “Huge balls you got there, dude.”
“Oh, shut up, KK. Like you aren't head over heels over your girl too.” Paige shot back, eyebrows furrowing as she checked her phone. KK and Ice burst out laughing, dragging Aubrey to sit on the couch.
“It's on Do Not Disturb, Paige.” Sensing the urgency, Caroline put a hand on her shoulder, pointing at the unmistakable symbol of DND.
“Thanks.” Paige mumbled, turning it off and feeling relieved as messages flooded in. Hundreds of notifications took over her phone, but she only cared about one.
“Dude, you're already trending on Twitter.” Aubrey showed her screen, Twitter opened, but Paige didn't bother looking.
“Oh, and the articles are already popping up,” Ice added.
Finally, after some searching, Paige found Azzi's message.
From: Azzi
Such a sweet talker.
I love you too Paige
From: Paige
You liked it?
I tried to keep it short but I think that was too little or maybe too much??
I definitely could've added more to it.
What did you think?
Paige stared at the messages, nervous to hear from Azzi.
From: Azzi
Hey, I loved it Paige.
You can always finish it when you get home to me
That validation calmed Paige almost immediately. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
From: Paige
Wanna call? I could tell you everything now.
From: Azzi
Yeah… if I'm correct, CD is about to burst through that door any second.
Either that or every reporter that was in that building wants to hear from you after that declaration of love in front of the whole world.
Let's wait until you get to the hotel, okay?
Right on cue, the rest of the team entered her room.
From: Paige
Good idea.
Love you
From: Azzi
Love you too
178 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VIII)
Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.
Word count: 5.1k.
Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.
Warnings on this chapter: irresponsable parent, one suicide thought, nudity, implied bisexual reader, misoginist thoughts, Homelander (!!!!), SMUT, hate/rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, dirty talking, some degrading, slight choking, bitchy reader.
Notes: i might wrote more than intended here lmao but the smut is here finally you sinners, give this reader a trophy for the strongest bitch ever to resist soldier boy, well deserved!! hope you like it lol, and thanks for reading as always!!
this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch @girlsforpjm @artemys-ackles
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
get yourself in the taglist!
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII
GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!
Part VIII: Tamed
2009
"Baby, how was your audition today?" your mother asked once you entered the kitchen.
Your suit was long gone along with the great smile you put on before leaving early that day. But she was different. She was all honey and candy, putting on the happiest face ever. And you knew it wasn't because of you.
"I'm not doing that shit," you spit harshly. This was your way of delivering the news now.
Her eyes widened as she closed the distance between both. You looked down to your feet, not wanting to see her disgusting face. You felt her hands on your shoulders and your body tensed under her touch.
"Why?! This is your dream, honey! You have to do it!"
You quickly pulled away from her.
"No! Mom, you did this to me!" your voice came out loud and shouting. "I just wanted to be normal! But you always influenced me to do this and go after Vought, I don't fucking want that! Those supes are fucking assholes and everything around them is a damn lie!"
She was startled, you could tell that from the way her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she placed her hand on top of her heart, pretending to be hurted. It was the first time you talked back to her like that.
Since you were a child, you did everything she asked you to. You never complained, never stood up for yourself. You didn't have a choice, nor an opinion that mattered. Your mother picked everything for you. Your clothes, your behavior, your food, your studies, your dreams... Today, you decided it was over. She was over controlling your life.
Your mother scoffed, a sly smile on her lips as she tried to touch your arm softly. Giving a step back, you shook your head saying 'no'. She sighed.
"Honey, this isn't you. And Vought, this is your dream. The Seven are your dream. Now, why don't you go back and-"
"I said no."
You cut off her stupid words with a straight voice. Her smile dropped in a second and you saw her eyes darkening.
"Y/N, this is not what your father wanted for you. We didn't raise you like this," she hissed through her teeth.
"Don't talk about dad. You don't care about him, you never did. Fuck, you don't care about me!" you raised your voice, fighting the tears in your eyes and the knot on your throat.
You were so sick of being weak. She raised you to be like it. Soft, fragile, compassionate, cute, playing the dumb rich girl with no brain and forcing you to not show your intelligence to others... It was all a façade. It was easier for her to manipulate you if you pretended to be stupid. Since her pregnancy, all you were for her was a cashback. Your father already had an heir, and what could be better if that heir was also part of The Seven, the most powerful supes of the planet. Of course, Vought shares would be higher than ever and your mother would be even more disgustingly rich. And you would be giving everything away for free. It wasn't fair for your selfish mother to suck your life away like this. But in the end, she didn't care.
"I'm not staying here. I'm leaving," you continued, crossing your arms on your chest. "I want my part of dad's inheritance, and I'm gonna be a fucking doctor and show off my brain after decades of hiding it, I've had enough of you stopping me."
"No, no, baby, you can't do this to me–"
"If you don't, I'll sue you and expose you, Vought and Homelander on a fucking trial."
She scoffed. You could see the tears forming on her eyes, but you weren't sure if they were because of you leaving or because you were threatening her money.
"You won't do that. They'll kill you."
"I don't care, I already tried to kill myself. They'd be doing me a favor."
At your confession, her jaw clenched and she tightened her fists.
"Fucking brat. Someday, when you regret running away from me, don't come back. You're just a disappointment for me, ever since you were a stupid child. Everything you are is useless and worthless, and I regret ever putting you in my womb."
Your brows furrowed when she spilled those harsh words, and you fought the urge of hitting her until she passed out.
"Don't think I ever told you, but yeah, you weren't a natural conceive. Yeah, we used his sperm and everything. The point is- I didn't want fucking kids, but your dad, ugh god, he did. And I gave you to him. All I get to say is, I was better without you. Probably if I should've waited just a little, my child wouldn't be a fucking ungrateful piece of shit standing right here," she gave you a grin. A sick one, as her fingers ran through your hair like she used to when you were a little girl.
You wanted to knock her off and run. But you just stood there, biting the inside of your cheek and tasting your own blood as she finally revealed herself to you, her daughter. It was clear you meant nothing to her. And you just wished your dad would be alive. He wouldn't force you into that stupid audition anyway.
"I pity you," she mocked. "But if that's what you wanna do, then leave. And don't you dare to come back."
A loud knock on his door woke him up from a deep slumber. Ben rubbed his eyes, groaning at the stupid sound of your voice calling him from the other side over and over. This was becoming a fucking routine he was starting to hate.
"Fucking shit," he mumbled, removing the blankets off his bare body when the door finally opened and you walked inside, stopping by his side of the bed.
"C'mon, Soldier Boy, get your ass up. You didn't wash the dishes last night."
Ben rolled on the bed and looked at the clock in the nightstand. He grunted. "It's fucking 6 A.M."
"Yes, and I have shit to do before I leave grocery shopping," you said, looking around his room. There were clothes everywhere you knew needed a good wash, an open bag with weed on top of the desk, joints and cigarettes, and a bunch of toilet paper littered on the floor you didn't want to know about. "One of them is watching you to make sure you clean the cave you live in."
Ben groaned, cursing under his breath, but stood up from the mattress with a wide grin. He noticed you always did your best to keep your eyes upon his face. Even if it wasn't the first time you had to see him like this, he enjoyed the way your body and face reacted to his naked form. So he got used to sleeping with no clothes on, knowing you'd always come to get him for breakfast. He could get used to it. Except for the part where he had to clean shit. That's why you were there. It was your fucking task to clean everything. Women's duties. But he had to endure the fucking times.
He got to complain to you every single day, every morning, and it was becoming already part of his routine too. But you somehow forced him to clean shit up and then he had to wait for his food, for his weed, lube and more clothes and shit you brought every time you were out. At some point, he thought he could be used to you feeding him up, but he still had a mission and it didn't matter how many times he had been sneaking into every room in your place, checking inside your office, how many times he had been searching through your bedroom on the drawers and smelling your lingerie, he still found nothing. He was pretty sure there was something else he wasn't really seeing yet. And Homelander on the TV along with those fuckers Victoria and Dakota Bob wasn't making his personal mission any easier, nor having no clue of where this kid Ryan was.
"Put some pants on," you said, interrupting his daydream.
"Whatever," Ben rolled his eyes and walked past you, taking a pair of pants from the carpeted floor.
"God, you're so fucking stoned," you mumbled watching as he dressed himself. "Get this mess cleaned after the dishes, I don't want to greet this shithole every morning."
"And what's in it for me, doll?" he asked, passing by your side and getting inside the bathroom.
He never bothered to shut the door closed while taking a piss, and this was, also, something you got used to seeing and hearing. When he finished, he came back with a smirk, stopping his tracks right in front of you.
"Nothing. There's nothing for you, stop acting like a dog begging for a bone."
"Yeah, well I'd like your pretty bones better.”
He gave you a wink and walked out the bedroom. God, he was so damn annoying. You followed him quickly and climbed down the stairs just to make sure he would start washing the dirty dishes from the last dinner you had.
“Make sure to scrub them correctly,” you said as you looked at how he turned on the sink.
Ben grunted in frustration, looking at you from the corner of his eye. It was always the fucking same with you, giving him directions he already knew the whole time.
“Fuck, woman, you’re so fucking annoying. I’m no damn pussy, I can do this without your ass here.”
The way he answered made you grin, getting closer to him until your arm was pressed against his own. “Yeah, I know you’re not stupid. I’m just making sure I’m taming you well.”
Ben’s eyes widened a little, clearly surprised by your boldness but not too much. Because the one who should be taming who, was him towards you. His macho self wouldn’t let a woman treat him like that. It didn’t matter he was hitting on you since the moment he met you in the facility, like doctor and patient. Ben was pretty sure that, besides his own personal payback, you would fall for him eventually. And once you do, because he was pretty sure it’d happen sooner or later, he would give you the best fuck ever. He turned his gaze to you as you looked at him with innocent eyes.
“I’d shut my mouth if I were you, sweetheart,” Ben warned in a low voice, taking in your figure standing so close to him that your warmth could be felt all along his body. “I don’t wanna screw you yet.”
“I take that as a challenge.”
The sun was almost setting down as you drove back home. It took you more than expected to complete the second shopping trip of the week and you were getting tired and spent. Sleep was becoming a privilege at this point. The past nights you had confined yourself to the lab down the bunker, and just now, you felt the cure was ready. Almost ready. The most important component was missing and you were still considering things you might regret later.
The low sound of the radio accompanied your thoughts as you traveled on the road, and the ways you’d like to tell Soldier Boy about all the mess you were getting into under Grace’s supervision, who had just called two fucking times in days. But part of you was afraid Ben wouldn’t understand the importance of a cure. He was a supe, and without his powers, he was fucking nothing. Just like Homelander. Even if he had made it clear that he hated his own son, you doubted to trust him and you felt the same hateful feeling towards you coming from him. At this point, you knew you were just putting up a stupid act.
And you started wondering if it should’ve been easier if you just let him between your legs and take what he wanted. He was a simple man; he saw a fuckable female, he wanted her. Surely you also knew when a man, woman, or anyone was attractive, but you just didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to feel like he won this battle. It was too fucking much, and you stopped sleeping around with strangers a couple of years back. The problem was, Ben wasn’t a stranger anymore, not to you.
Suddenly, a figure landed a few feet away from you on the highway. You hit the brake of your car as fast as your reflexes allowed you to, seeing red, blue and white. Once your car stopped completely, you met with the last person you’d ever wanted to see. Homelander smiled widely as you locked eyes with him through the windshield. He surrounded the car until he came by your side, standing outside your door. You turned on the flashing lights of the car and turned the engine off, it wasn't like you could escape anyway.
“Nice to see you around, doc,” he greeted.
“Why are you following me?”
“I told you before; I have eyes on you.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing tightly the wheel between your hands. “I don't know what you want me to do.”
“Don’t be stupid. That cure won’t see the light, I’m making sure of that,” Homelander leaned on your open window and your head moved away slightly as he studied the insides of your car. “You’re welcome by the way.”
“For what? For trying to kill me? For taking my father’s money for your stupid circus? For touching me?” you hissed.
He chuckled, straightening himself again. “For taking you out, silly.”
A long sigh escaped your lips. “So this is your plan in the end.”
“It always has been. I know every move you make, the stores you go each week, I even know where you’re living right now and how you work your ass off that stupid experiment of yours,” his words made you visibly tense and he noticed, like every little reaction coming from you. “How’s the old man doing by the way?” he asked, as if it was just another chat between friends.
“You make me sick.”
“Oh, no. I want you healthy,” Homelander placed a hand on your wrist. “Please eat well and rest enough. Don’t burn yourself out, honey, it's useless.”
You started shaking your head, confusion fogging your mind at the way he talked like he had something prepared for you. “You’re fucked, Homelander,” you whispered.
You were trying to convince yourself more than him, scared of what he would do to you, forcing you into this twisted mouse and cat game. He just smiled widely at your words, laughing under his breath.
“Once I have you under my mercy,” you continued, holding his gaze. “You’re gonna be fucking nothing. I promise you that.”
His hand wrapped around your neck and for a moment you thought he would kill you right there. “I can’t wait to see you try and fail miserably, I’ll enjoy that show. Might become my favorite.”
Homelander let go of his grip roughly, allowing you to breathe again.
“Fuck you,” you spat back.
He chuckled, straightening himself and walking away from your car, giving you a last glance. “Not yet, doctor. Not yet.”
Once back in the spot where he landed, he flew away and you were left alone on the road. No cars, nor people walking could be seen, but it was better that way. Forcing your hands to stop shaking, you turned the engine on again and started to drive back home. Taking your phone out, you made a call, waiting for the other line to answer. You had to act fast and track that motherfucker down, not caring if you were already regretting what you’d do next.
“So, what’s your story?”
His question surprised you more than you could tell. After dinner nights like this were becoming a really weird habit of him talking shit about this stupid century, how things were better back then and how people got dumber with time. But you never thought Soldier Boy would insist on your past, not since the first night you ate together at the same table. You finished your glass of whisky, not sure if answering his question or not.
You shrugged. “I’m not that interesting.”
Ben drank his own liquor down before asking again. “Let me rephrase that: why do you hate Vought so much?”
“Who says I hate them?”
He studied your face for a moment. The look in your eyes told nothing, but your heart rate and your breathing was always enough for him to know you were fucking lying about it. Ben had started to think of many other things you were hiding from him. But even with all that stupid mask covering you, he wanted to have you. Countless times he tried, he wasn’t going anywhere now. Nobody could resist him, you were just another game to play and he was kind of enjoying it.
“All of you. You scream inside that you want to fuck them up,” he answered. “Believe me, I want nothing more than that.”
“Didn’t you have your own payback some months ago?”
“Yes, but you already know that from my file. I’m asking about you now.”
His intense green eyes and the grit on his words caused you to think exactly what to say. You couldn’t hide it anymore, not everything at least.
“My mom. Vought experimented on her when she was pregnant, that’s why I have powers,” you said, dry and straight to the point.
“How?”
You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment, not believing he would force you to remember the memories you had been fighting to erase.
“She was paid a huge amount of money. And she hoped her daughter would join Vought someday; she was so wrong about that,” you gave a bittersweet chuckle. “On my eighth birthday, I finally discovered my powers. There was this huge party and a lot of my parent’s rich friends and their kids, whom I didn’t know because I had no friends, were there. And then, I just remember I got overwhelmed by all these people and the attention. I always hated that. And then, my mother couldn’t find me when it was cake time. I was in my room but she couldn’t see me there. Turned out I was invisible… It was the first and the only time I could make my clothes and my shoes disappear with me.”
Ben listened attentively, much to your surprise, as he spoke once again, locking his eyes with yours. “So your powers come from your inner wish of disappearing from your mother’s sight.”
You hummed and nodded your head. “I think that’s a great way of putting it, but yes.”
“Well, I'll take it back. They fucked your life too, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, and they’re still after you anyway.”
He scoffed. “Those fucking cocksuckers. Also, where the fuck is Grace anyway? All the CIA bullshit?” he asked, quickly changing the topic abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he demanded an answer.
“No news from her apparently, nor any agents.”
“Bullshit, your last call with her was a couple of days ago and you said nothing.”
“Why are you so invested in her? You like her?” you mocked, noticing how his resemblance switched from calm to visibly annoyed. There was no fucking way you’d tell him where she was right now.
“Y’know what I’d like? A fucking reasonable answer from you, that’d be perfect,” he snarled, and you knew he was back being stubborn and childish asking the same fucking shit all the time.
“I don’t know, but when I do I’ll tell you,” you responded after remaining silent under his angry stare.
“You’ve been saying the same shit over and over—”
“Okay, so tell me what you want. You want Homelander. Good, and then what?”
He held your stare, you noticed he was trying to keep himself down. “The kid.”
“Ryan?”
“Yes, the fucking brat.”
His hard eyes were not lying and you argued back on it.
“You can’t do that, there has to be another way.”
“Fucking tell me where it is. ‘Cause I see nothing!” he shouted, his voice booming all over the room. “That fucking pussy and his fucking team, they all had him right there. And in a second, Butcher just backed up! I could’ve done it already and we wouldn’t be here, playing dollhouse.”
Spilling the truth was no option right now. He was stupidly pissed right now. But you knew it was cruel to hunt a kid down just because his father had put him into the spotlight thanks to his powers. Ben, on the other hand, was blinded by his hatred towards Homelander, and you knew he was a man of his word. He was more than able to kill Homelander and the boy for a deal, one that was broken because of a weak moment coming from Butcher. Even for your morally gray head, killing Ryan was not an option. At least not now. You hated Homelander, but you probably understood Butcher more than you’d like to admit. Soon, you would think about a plan; where to put the kid after injecting the anti V.
“Let me give you a lead when I can,” you said.
“Tell me why should I trust you.”
“It’s your choice, honestly. Probably you shouldn’t, but I may give you something sooner or later.”
Without waiting for his response, you took the empty dishes to the sink, and Ben followed you with his eyes, taking in the softness of your exposed skin through the short summer dress. He liked the way the fabric hugged your curves and how it fell over your legs, inviting him to have a taste. Ben noticed you putting on shorts and dresses more often the last few days, and he was thankful for the hot weather to be able to see you like this. The past nights, he had jerked off with you in mind, wondering when he’d be the man to put you in place. Perhaps he just needed to try again.
He got on his feet as you talked, but none of the things coming out of your mouth were important as he put his weight behind your body, his hands roaming over your arms before you got to start washing the dirty plates.
“Do you not get tired of trying?” you breathed out.
You felt his rough hands caressing your arms, before moving down your waist, pressing your ass against the bulge growing on his pants. He smiled to himself once he heard the loud gasp coming from your mouth.
“Just tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, placing his lips down your neck, nipping softly at your sensitive skin, as he massaged your flesh, going to the curve of your ass.
“And when you get this, what?” you asked, turning around to meet his dark eyes. He was practically devouring you with his stare. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him hot, looking at you like that, as if you were the last and only meal that could end his greedy hunger.
He smiled, and whispered cockily against your lips. “You can always ask me for a second round.”
Fuck it.
You captured his lips in an impatient kiss, nibbling at his bottom lip with urgency as you tasted the whisky from his mouth, your breaths mixing and panting as he lifted you up without further effort. Ben walked towards the countertop in the middle of your kitchen, placing you on the surface as he spread your legs. You welcomed him closer, feeling his hands traveling freely under the thin fabric of your dress, feeling the softness of your legs, your inner thighs, until he rubbed over your panties. You let out a moan against his mouth when his fingers found your folds and you held tightly against the corner of the countertop.
“You’re dripping, sweetheart,” he growled, breaking the kiss.
“It’s been a while, ohfuck!”
A shiver ran down your spine as he stretched your pussy with one thick finger, his lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, sucking and nipping on your skin. Your walls fluttered as he pumped in and out, and your hips set a move on its own. He hissed against your skin as he worked you open and ready for his hard cock, growing excitedly in his pants. A second finger slipped in and you clenched.
Ben smirked and you felt the burning feeling of his beard as he kissed your shoulder. You wondered how he’d feel between your legs, bruising your inner thighs with his big hands and the burning of his facial hair. The frantic fucking from his fingers pushed you to the edge, moaning and panting for air as his thumb played with your clit. You gripped on his forearms, looking for something to hold on tight as you reached that sweet high.
“Fuck, you did so well,” he praised, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, leaving you empty. He brought his wet fingers to your lips and you complied, opening your mouth. You licked his fingers, locking your eyes with his. “Wonder what twirls your pretty mouth has for me,” Ben pushed his fingers further, making you gag for a bit. “I’ve been thinking of hundreds of ways of finally holding your tongue with my cock.”
His other hand wrapped your neck, as he forced you to suck his fingers harder, hitting your gag reflex over and over. He discovered he loved hearing your breathy sounds and the dirty look in your eyes while you sucked his digits. When he pulled out his fingers from your mouth, you took in a deep breath, but the grip on your neck grew tighter as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“You’ll have to go down on me first if you want my mouth,” you whispered against his lips.
Ben could hear your heart racing, and he was sure you got all dizzy and bothered just by his hand. “Oh, is that so?” he rasped.
You rolled your eyes, growing impatient. “Why don’t you shut up and fuck me hard?”
And there it was. They’d always beg for him in the end. He smiled down at you, loosening the grip around your throat. “With pleasure.”
His hands wasted no time in getting rid of your dress, discarding your panties and your bra ripping them in half. You moaned when his palms groped on your tits, playing with your nipples and squeezing them harshly. God, you were getting wet again just by the feeling of his mouth biting on your soft buds. Quickly, you reached for his pants, touching his hard cock over the fabric. Ben growled, feeling the softness of your palm stroking him gently. Good choice not wearing anything underneath. Your other hand tugged at his shirt until it was discarded over the floor, his pants following after.
He got you off the countertop so your feet were on the ground, and turned you swiftly, laying you down on your chest on the cold surface. He massaged the sides of your hips, running down his palms over your ass with a hiss.
“Now this is quite a view.”
You moaned as his fingers played with your entrance. “Fuck, Ben, just do it already.”
“Shit, doll, I love when you beg.”
He stroked his cock with your juices before aligning with your pussy, slowly sliding in your wet heat. He stretched you out inch by inch, and you became a whimpering mess. After a moment of staying still balls deep in your wet core, he snapped his hips against your ass, setting a brutal pace. Loud moans and screams escaped your throat. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You knew your fingers stopped being enough each time you needed sweet release, and probably you would regret him fucking you later, but right now you didn’t care. His fingers inside your cunt, the way he would handle your body like a feather just for his disposition and to get off with, and now his cock filling you up was becoming too much. But you loved it.
Soldier Boy felt too good inside you, fucking your brains over and over. His hands bruising your hips, groping the flesh of your ass and breasts, as he pounded into you, everything was like heaven and you were sure you’d be spent once it was over. His dark, lusty eyes memorized every inch of your body and the way your pussy engulfed his dick with each thrust. The kitchen was filled with your whimpers and his animalistic growls, mixed with the sound of his skin hitting against your own. He hit on that sweet spot repeatedly, making your walls clench around his cock.
“Jesus, you’re coming pretty quickly today,” Ben teased under his breath, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling your back against his muscular chest. “Wait for me, doll,” he whispered in your ear, satisfied on how fucked out and desperate you were underneath.
“Do it fast, you asshole! Fuck!”
Your pussy fluttered and clenched on his cock as he hit your spot again. With a loud moan, you finally reached the climax you longed for so long, and took his deep, rough thrusts as he fucked you through bliss. His name escaped your throat countless times, coming down from your high. Ben growled, your orgasm and the spasms of your cunt triggered his own, and he finally released himself inside your tight pussy.
And how good it felt to finally have you there, begging and crying for his cock. It was so much better than his own imagination, and he took in great pleasure on fucking the brat out of you. He continued bucking his hips until his white seed started leaking down your thighs, and finally stopped. The only sound in the room being your tired breaths.
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, feeling his grip on your scalp softening.
He sucked on your neck one last time with a cocky grin on his lips. “I told you I’d be a great fuck, sweetheart.”
“I wish you could shut up for once,” you answered back, looking at him from your side, and feeling his cock softening inside you. “I might have my methods.”
He bucked his hips one more time. A whimper escaped past your lips as he pulled you back against his chest in a swift motion, his fingers traced your neckline. “So do I, doll.”
Next Part >>>
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy imagines#soldier boy x y/n#soldier boy fanfiction#the boys soldier boy#the boys amazon prime#the boys tv#jensen ackles fanfiction#soldier boy/ben#jensen ackles the boys
170 notes
·
View notes