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likeumeanit9497 · 6 months ago

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like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

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“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

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#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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selfcarecap · 2 months ago

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MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.

He could give it to you.

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.

Sappy motherfucker.

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.

He wakes up with morning wood.

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.

It’s soo stupid.

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.

“Did you draw it?” He asks.

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”

“Secret admirer?”

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him.

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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areislol · 2 months ago

Text

"i'm gonna marry mama when i'm older!"

pairings. argenti, aventurine, blade, boothill, dr. ratio, gallagher, gepard, dan heng/imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, welt, jiaoqiu, moze x afab/fem! reader

warnings. fluff, wife! reader, use of "mama", "papa" and "mommy" and "daddy", [c/n] = child's name, sampo being sampo, lots of girl dads

a/n. baby fever hit me. #foreverwithmybabydaddy

wordcount. 4.7k

synopsis. how do they react to their child wanting to marry you, his wife?

playfully teases your child

sampo —

✧ "well, well, seems like i've got a little competitor! but you’ll need more than charm to steal your mom away from me!"

✧😐😐 <- how he actually feels inside

✧ listen, sampo LOVES his little him to DEATH. but for some odd reason hearing his son suddenly burst out saying that he was going to marry you made his face go all sour and ugly.

✧ but he knows that he you would never allow that and that it was all fun and games, still, his smirk grows larger as his son barks back. "nuh uh!! mama loves me more than you, so i will marry mama first! not you!"

✧ a loud, audible, dramatic, heartbroken, gasp can be heard from sampo's wide open mouth, letting out a strangled noise. "you!! never!! my wife loves me more than you!" you let out an exasperated sigh, watching as your husband and your son bickered back and fourth on who you loved more.

✧ "c'mon!! tell him that you love me more than him!" "that would break his heart, sampo! absolutely not!" "but... he's breaking my heart..." ah, there goes his little pout and his puppy eyes that always magically work on you.

✧ "come on... please? pretty please? I'M BEGGING YOU I'M LOSING THIS ARGUMENT TO OUR SON!!!"

✧ your eyes flicker between sampo and your son. sampo is begging you, clinging onto the hem of your shirt as his kneels down while your son on the other hand is staring at his father in confusion and.. embarrassment? you stifled your laughter back, the sight of your six-year-old child giving his own dad a stink eye was hilarious.

✧ "are you laughing at me...?" sampo looks up at your face, eyeing your expressions and follows your gaze, turning his head he faces his son who stares right back at him. "oh..."

✧ "daddy why are you always doing weird things?"

aventurine —

✧ aventurine would laugh heartily and say, "oh, planning to take my spot, are you? well, you’ve got some big shoes to fill!" he’d probably challenge his child to a fun, friendly competition to see who can win over their mom’s heart.

✧ he knows that his child actually has no chance in marrying you, but hey, it's worth a shot to see how far they'll actually go.

✧ "babe!! little [c/n] here wants to marry you~" he says, beckoning for you to side beside him, your child's eyes sparkled at the sight of you sitting down beside him, they grip on your leg, hugging it tightly.

✧ "can i really marry you when i'm older?" you cock your head to the side, eyeing aventurine and your child. "what's all this about?" you asked, aventurine simply pulled you in close to him, his arm wrapped around your waist as he hoists his child up and onto his lap. "mmm... nothing really. so, who do you want to marry, me or this little kid here?"

✧ you caressed your child's hair, letting out a hum in thought. "well... [c/n] i'm already married to daddy..." you replied, and gosh do you feel your heart crumble into a million pieces when you see your child pout, their chubby cheeks prominent. b—but..."

✧ "it's alright sweetie, you can still try, but i don't think mommy will ever marry you—" "WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" "WHY ARE YOU—"

✧ in the end you calm your baby down with aventurine who's gripping his shirt over his heart. both you and aventurine settled on letting your child compete with his dad in trying to prove themselves to "marry you one day". once they're put to sleep in their room, aventurine hugs you from behind, his arms snaking around your waist.

✧ "you only want me, right?" he sighed, face nuzzling in your neck. "well of course you're my husband. but don't get their hopes up too high okay? or else they might start crying in your ears again." you laughed. aventurine only let out yet another sigh, leading you away from your child's room.

✧ "child or not i don't want anyone else who wants to be with my wife."

moze —

✧ moze immediately perked his ehad up at the sound of his daughter's voice.. wait.. did he hear her correctly?

✧ though his face remained stoic as ever, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. he turns to his child, raising an eyebrow with his typical quiet intensity. "you want to marry your mother?" he asks, his voice low but carrying just the right amount of teasing. "you’re going to have to be real smooth if you want to outshine me."

✧ his gaze flicks to you for just a second, a glint of warmth in his otherwise composed demeanour. then, in true moze fashion, he quickly shifted gears, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, as he continued to joke around with his child.

✧ "do you even have a plan? flowers? chocolates? you’re up against some serious competition here," moze adds, his tone dry but playful.

✧ despite his typically reserved nature (but over time you got to really know the true moze and not the 'crow feathered weirdo'), moze had a way of making these rare moments with his family feel special. he ruffles his child’s hair, his smirk widens slightly. "maybe i’ll teach you a thing or two, but you’ll need to practice. being this smooth doesn’t come easy."

✧ moze glances at you again, his silent affection shining through in the way his eyes softened when they landed on you. though he wasn’t one for long speeches or grand gestures, his love for his family was always clear in these moments.

✧ he continues keeping his child entertained with more jokes and a rare display of his dry wit. though he acted cool and composed, these were the moments that he held onto, the ones that made him forget, if only for a while, about the covert world he was usually immersed in.

✧ "seems like i've got competition.. i won't easily be beaten though."

overprotective about you

gepard —

✧ gepard would likely have a soft, almost tender smile when he hears his child say they want to marry you, their mother, his wife. his voice would be gentle, filled with a mixture of pride and love.

✧ "marrying your mother is an honor and a responsibility. you must be ready to protect and care for her, just as i do."

✧ he would explain that love is about more than just affection—it's about commitment, duty, and being there for each other through thick and thin. kneeling down to his child’s level, he places a hand on his child’s shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze as he speaks.

✧ "if you're willing to do all those things then i think mommy wouldn't mind if you proposed to her." and oh does he thank the lord every day for blessing him with his child whose eyes sparkled at his encouraging words. "mhm mhm! i will!" and such chubby cheeks too.. he pinches them affectionately, a tender smile on his face.

✧ even after the conversation ends, he gazes lovingly at you, feeling grateful for the family you've built together.

✧ gepard stands behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his much larger and warm palms resting on your stomach, he hums softly on your head, kneading the soft fabric of your shirt. yeah, he could definitely get used to this life.

✧ "maybe [c/n] wouldn't mind another sibling, hm?"

blade —

✧ blade’s initial reaction would be a mix of surprise and seriousness. (though your daughter probably can't read his expression) you were out shopping and left your child an your husband together in her room, it was trashed with toys, toys and more toys...

✧ blade was subjected to his daughter's antics, but of course he allowed her to do her thing (reluctantly). out of nowhere, she spoke, her words catching him off guard.

✧ "i'm gonna marry mama!" "...no you won't." "i will!" "...."

✧ "......................................................"

✧ blade leans down slightly, his intense gaze locking with his child’s eyes. there’s a seriousness to him, one that contrasts with the lightheartedness of the situation. his voice is calm yet firm

✧ "love is not something to be taken lightly," he begins, his tone gentle but unwavering. he wants his child to understand that while the sentiment is touching, the reality behind such words is far more intricate. "when you say such things, make sure you understand the weight of your words."

✧ weight?? of your words?? what does that even mean???? <- your poor, confused child. blade sighs, what was he thinking? could this little child of his understand his words?

✧ blade watches his child closely, looking for signs of understanding despite knowing that inside the depths of his daughter's eyes, is nothing. just pure bliss and not living naively in the world.

✧ he’s aware that she's still young, that the world of love and marriage is something that shouldn't concern them (blade is never letting his precious daughter marry anyone let alone DATE). yet, he also knows that these early lessons are important. he wishes to prepare her, to ensure she grows up strong and resilient.

✧ blade’s gaze softens just slightly, though his posture remains firm. he’s not one to easily show affection, but there’s a quiet tenderness in the way he holds himself at this moment. his child’s innocent declaration has stirred something within him, something he rarely allows himself to feel. ✧ "alright alright, fine. stop sulking."

✧ "YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!"

boothill —

✧ "you’re serious about that, huh? well, you’ve got to be strong and steady if you want to take care of someone like your mother."

✧ gosh, he's just so elated with the fact that little him gets him!! like, who wouldn't want to marry you? exactly!!! he gets it!!

✧ his rugged exterior momentarily softened by their innocent declaration. his voice would be slightly gruff, but there's an underlying warmth that shows how much he cares.

✧ when his child suddenly declares that they want to marry their mother when they grow up, he doesn’t make a big show of it. instead, he quietly observes the interaction, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. boothill gives his child a small and gentle squeeze on the shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly, acknowledging the sweetness of the moment, but he doesn’t say much.

✧ but deep down, boothill just wants to lunge himself at his child, smothering them in his love, but refrains from doing so, remembering your words. "don't tackle him or anything, he's still small and fragile!!"

✧ ruffling his hair, boothill picks up his son up in his arms, a grin forming on his lips as he feels the all too familiar grubby hands gripping his hat, tilting it to the side, a fit of giggles erupted, apparently the sight of his hat covering the side of his face was hilarious.

✧ "is it really that funny, junior?" he sighed, carefully hoisting him up to make it more comfortable for the both of them. "ah whatever, let's wait for mama to come back from shopping alright?"

✧ at the mention of your name your son's head perks up, stopping his giggles. "mama!" he exclaims, this time fully yanking his hat off. boothill shakes his head at his actions.

✧ he knows that love is complicated, something that can’t be fully understood at a young age. to him, this is a reminder of the purity of a child’s love—something untainted by the complexities of adult life.

the romantic

jing yuan —

✧ "ah, you’ve got good taste, my little one. but remember, love is a journey, one that requires patience and understanding." he’d likely share a romantic story or two, expressing his deep affection for you, his wife.

✧ jing yuan would smile warmly at his girl's declaration. how sweet of her to be wed to you, although he knows it's impossible, he couldn't break his sweet child's heart.

✧ jing yuan would chuckle softly, his hand ruffling his little one's hair as she gazed up at him with bright, innocent eyes. "you've got quite the ambition, my dear."

✧ his golden eyes would soften as he exchanged a warm glance with you, his wife. "i think mommy might like that idea," he’d tease, his deep voice carrying a note of affection.

✧ kneeling down to his child's height, jing yuan leans in closer, his smile widening. "but you know, love isn't just about weddings or promises. it’s about cherishing someone every day, even in the little things."

✧ he’d pull you both into a gentle embrace, his strong arms encircling his family. "besides, your mother already has my heart. but maybe… just maybe, you can help me take care of her, too."

✧ the child would beam, feeling proud and important, while jing yuan would place a soft kiss on your forehead, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "looks like i’ve got some competition," he'd say playfully, causing you both to laugh.

✧ later, as he tucks your little one into bed and he whispers, "you’ll find your own special someone one day, but for now, let’s make sure mommy knows how much we both love her."

imbibitor lunae —

✧ a soft, knowing smile would spread on his face, his ethereal gaze settling on his child with a tender warmth. "ah, to marry your mother… a noble thought indeed. the bond between two souls is sacred, built on trust and mutual respect," he’d say, his voice as serene as a breeze.

✧ he then turns his gaze to you, his eyes reflecting centuries of love. "your mother is a rare treasure indeed, and i’m glad to see you understand this at such a young age." His words are gentle yet profound.

✧ kneeling down gracefully, he’d gently lift his child’s hand, brushing a thumb across their tiny fingers. "but love is not something to be rushed. it’s like the moon in its cycle—waxing, waning, yet always returning to full."

✧ imbibitor lunae would most likely recite a beautiful verse from an ancient text, encapsulating the sacredness of love and family: “like the stars embracing the night sky, so too shall our hearts stay intertwined across the ages.”

✧ with a chuckle, he’d then stroke the child’s cheek softly. "but until you’re older, why not help me look after her? there’s much to learn in the way of love and care."

✧ he’d then pull both you and your child close, his comforting and grounding presence enveloping the moment in peace. "together, we are strong. perhaps one day, you’ll find your own soul to cherish as I do your mother."

argenti —

✧ argenti throws his head back with a booming laugh, his hand ruffling his child’s hair with infectious enthusiasm. "ah, such noble sentiments! you wish to marry your mother? how valiant!" his eyes would gleam with pride, and he’d turn to you with an exaggerated, theatrical gasp. "it seems i’ve been bested by our own child!"

✧ with a dramatic flourish, he’d lift you off your feet, spinning you in a playful circle before setting you down (with you playfully smacking his arm), his voice filled with lightheartedness.

✧ "but alas! your mother has already claimed my heart, dear one."

✧ to celebrate his child’s declaration (yes, have i ever mentioned that argenti is absolutely dramatic??), argenti would likely organize a spontaneous "family adventure." he’d gather some flowers from a nearby meadow or call forth a small spectacle of radiant lights from his sword, creating a miniature show. "we shall offer these as a tribute to the queen of our hearts—your mother!"

✧ he would encourage the child to present the gathered flowers or lights to you, his smile proud as his child participated in the grand romantic gesture. "together, we shall shower her with the love and admiration she so rightfully deserves!"

✧ later, as you all relaxed beneath the stars, argenti would point to the sky, his voice soft yet brimming with passion. "you see those stars, little one? each one shines with the love i have for your mother. and someday, you will understand how to shine just as brightly."

✧ argenti has never been prouder of his little one. "for now, my brave one, let’s continue showering her with love, for the greatest battles are not won with swords but with the heart."

the pragamtist (will break your child's heart)

welt —

✧ welt smiles slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in that thoughtful, knowing way of his. "that’s very sweet of you," he’d say, his voice calm and reassuring. "but your mother and i are already committed to each other."

✧ uh oh. he can his child's bottom lip quiver.. wait.. no.. he didn't mean it—wait—!!

✧ "WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHY DID YOU TAKE MOMMY AWAAAYY" ah.. there it is.. oh woe is welt. and so as your child wails and fat tears roll down his cheeks your ears perk up, obviously worried for your child who is quite literally screaming his lungs out.

✧ you walk out of your room and into the living room where you see welt trying his best to calm down his son, majority of the time welt does an amazing job in soothing him to sleep and cease his yowling but today? right now? it seems like no matter what welt tried it was to no avail.

✧ "what's going on?" you asked, raising a brow at this odd scene before you. taking a seat beside your son he quickly wastes no time in latching onto you, his chubby arms barely wrapped around your waist, his head squished against your thigh.

✧ you give welt a look. he sighs, staring down at his son who has successfully calmed down. "you see, [c/n] wants to marry you when he's older..." he begins, watching your reaction. "mhm.." you hummed, signalling for him to continue. "and i told him that we were already married."

✧ "... is that so..?" you giggled, looking down at your son who's gripping onto the fabric of your pants. "is that right, [c/n]?" your son slowly lifts his head up, an adorable pout on his lips. he stares at you before pointing at your husband.

✧ "daddy took mommy away!" he yells angrily, if it was possible, there would be steam coming out of your baby's ear.

✧ welt winces at the voice his child uses before speaking up. "you see, love is about understanding and growing with another person. it’s not just about wanting to be with someone—it’s about supporting them, no matter what."

✧ ??? "???? welt you're speaking to him as if he can understand."

✧ "oh, right." welt clears his throat, holding his son's much smaller hands in his own. "son, i understand that you love your mommy very much but..." he glances over at you. "me and mommy are already.. together. and mommy can't marry you because—"

✧ "WHY CAN'T I MARRY MOMMY" yet another session of crying begins. welt is practically dumbfounded.

✧ you click your tongue, lifting your son up into your arms, cradling him and patting his back. "shh, it's okay. daddy knows nothing... you can marry mommy if you want!" you cooed.

✧ "what—"

dr. ratio —

✧ raising an eyebrow at his child’s declaration he closes his book, his attention now fully on his child. " so you want to marry your mother, huh? well, while your intention is admirable, there’s a lot more to it than just saying 'i do.' you see, relationships are like a complex equation—variables, constants, and sometimes, unknown factors."

✧ 😐 dr ratio your child can barely answer do division calm down

✧ 'this is a great opporunity!' he thinks as he starts pacing, hands waving in the air as he speaks. "now, love, that’s the x factor! you can’t quantify it, but it changes everything. you might think it’s simple, but oh no, it’s much like trying to balance a chemical formula—get one thing wrong, and, well, it could blow up in your face!" he’d smile, amused by his own analogy.

✧ turning to you with a smirk, he’d nod. "your mother here—she's like the most elegant solution to the most complicated equation in my life."

✧ he’d then sit down beside his child, crossing his legs and leaning forward as if revealing a secret. "one day, you’ll find your perfect match—your own variable to balance things out. it’s like an ongoing experiment in life. but don't rush it! you’ve got plenty of time to gather data, test hypotheses, and figure out what works best for you."

✧ "and if you ever need help, your dad's here for you." with a grin, he’d ruffle their hair in a show of affection. "for now, though, we’ve got a pretty solid family unit here. no need to add more variables just yet." he hums.

✧ as he continued to ramble, you entered the room, finding your husband somewhat lecturing your child. he turns to you with a softer gaze. "our little one will understand it all someday. love is just like… oh, I don’t know, maybe quantum entanglement. two particles, forever linked no matter the distance."

✧ "what wont they understand?" you asked, wiping your hands off of the towel. "also dinner's ready. eating butter chicken today!" you chirped, walking back out and beginning to set the plates down on the table.

✧ eventually, dr. ratio would lean back, satisfied with his explanation. "do you understand?"

✧ your child nods their head eagerly, a wide and happy smile plastered on their face. "mhm!" but dr. ratio knows better.

✧ even if your child doesn't understand their father, that's fine. dr ratio loves them much more than others... he wouldn't mind giving them extra lessons to fully wrap the logic around their little head.

gallagher —

✧ though slovenly but content, he smiled gently as he listened to his daughter’s declaration. he was dressed in his usual disheveled manner—shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up, and an apron stained with coffee and whiskey splashes.

✧ “marry your mother, huh?” he’d say with a soft chuckle, glancing over at you with warmth. "that’s quite the bold statement, kiddo." his daughter does nothing but gaze up lovingly at her dad, awaiting his advice.

✧ the three of you were seated in his usual haunt, a cozy corner of his bar where he’d brought you along for some family time—though even now, he remained courteous, casually nodding at a few patrons who passed by.

✧ wiping down a glass, gallagher would take a moment to think, his vigilance never fully dropping even in such a relaxed setting. "marriage," he’d begin, wiping his hands on his apron, "it’s not something you just do because it sounds nice."

✧ he’d glance at you with a half-smirk, then return his gaze to his daughter. "you see, love—it’s like making the perfect cocktail. you’ve got to find just the right ingredients, mix ’em carefully, and sometimes let it sit before you know it’s ready. rushing it? well, that’s how you end up with a bitter drink."

✧ there goes gallagher and his cocktail analogy.

✧ he tosses a rag over his shoulder, leaning forward, resting his arms on the table. "someone who fits with you like how your mother and i fit together. but don’t go ordering the drink before you’re ready for it, you know?"

✧ you smiled at your daughter, ruffling her hair. "why do you want to marry me, [c/n]?" your daughter turns to you, eyes sparkling with admiration. "because mama is pretty!"

✧ "🥺🥺 oh baby..." brb you're gonna go bawl your eyes out now.

✧ as you hoist your daughter into your arms and hug her tightly, gushing about how adorable she is and that you're the luckiest mother alive, gallagher finishes drying the glasses and watches the both of you with such a soft gaze that siobhan isn't sure if this is the gallagher that she knows, but everyone has their secrets.

✧ "for now," he says—interrupting your little moment— before sliding another glass your way, "we’ve got each other, and that’s more than enough. we’re a solid team. although I'm not sure if i appreciate you trying to steal my wife from me..."

"what did you just say"

jiaoqiu —

✧ jiaoqiu’s ears twitch the moment he heard his daughter’s innocent declaration, his sharp hearing picking up every word. "what did you just say?" his tone shows a hint of jealousy, his eyes narrowing slightly before he caught himself, realizing who had spoken.

✧ this was his daughter, after all—still innocent, still sweet, and still adorable as ever.

✧ clearing his throat and quickly composing himself, jiaoqiu smiled ever so softly, despite not being able to see, he had become accustomed to pinpointing where exactly a person was.

✧ "that is so sweet of you," he say, his voice now softening with affection. his tail flicks in amusement, but there would be no mistaking the tenderness in his tone. "your mother is truly special, isn’t she?"

✧ he pats his daughter's head, his expression full of warmth as he hears her giggle. "you’ve got good taste, of course. but let me tell you, your mom’s already been swept off her feet by someone else—yours truly."

✧ he pulls his daughter close, jiaoqiu ruffles her hair, his grin never fading. "keep that loving heart of yours, and i promise, one day you’ll find someone just as perfect for you. Someone who may or may not outweigh me in terms of cooking.."

✧ jiaoqiu lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he hears his daughter giggle, shaking her head. "just make sure you bring them to me first. i’ll need to give them the old ‘jiaoqiu test,’ alright?"

✧ "oh and make sure they have good taste in food, otherwise they aren't worth it. haha, just kidding.."

luocha —

✧ his green eyes widened slightly at the innocent declaration, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he processed what his daughter had said. luocha gracefully bent down, just enough to meet his daughter's gaze, his golden hair cascading over his shoulders like threads of light.

✧ the tender amusement in his expression didn’t hide the warmth in his eyes as he replied, “you want to marry your mother?”

✧ he paused for a moment as if savouring the sweetness of the moment, before gently pinching her cheeks. “that’s incredibly sweet of you, and it makes me happy to know how much love you have in your heart.” his voice was soft, as though he were speaking a secret known only to them.

✧ with a slow, deliberate motion, luocha brushed a strand of his daughter's hair back, tucking it neatly behind their ear. “but marriage,” he continued, his tone calm, “is a commitment, a bond built on trust and mutual care.”

✧ he glanced over at you (who is smiling like an absolutely mad woman), his smile deepening. “your mother is someone truly remarkable, isn’t she?” he let the words linger each one carrying its own weight. "i’m glad you see how special she is, just as i do.”

✧ luocha took his child’s small hand in his own, his long fingers curling gently around theirs. "you’ve got so much love to give, and that’s something to cherish. always hold onto that kindness, that love."

✧ standing tall again, his coat swaying behind him like a quiet whisper, luocha’s eyes softened even more as he gently lifted his child into his arms, holding them close. “for now,” he said, his voice tender but filled with certainty, “you’re already surrounded by love. our family is your home."

✧ he turns toward you, carrying your child effortlessly in one arm, his other hand reaching out to you. you gladly take it, the familiar warmth blossoming in your body as you feel his sweet gesture.

✧ luocha clears his throat. "that doesn't mean you can marry a boy, okay? boys are good for nothing.." "luocha!!" you frown, slapping his arm. your husband looks down at you, a sweet and innocent smile on his lips. "hm..? i didn't say anything," he hums before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

ote: if you would like to be added to the honkai star rail taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy

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