#i once found a few that would follow you for a bit so i naturally led them all to each other and nothing happened :(
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whatiswrongwithpeople · 2 months ago
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Unspoken Understandings
part 2 to “Shattered Silence” (Jayce Talis x reader)
Part 1
Summary: After that fateful night in the lab both ,Jayce and you, have been unsure how to address the sudden shift in your dynamic. However, sometimes all it takes is a certain yordle to force Jayce to take a break from his work and leave the lab.
Warnings: none, no spoilers for s2, no canon plot, a good amount of domestic fluff
Notes: I am really REALLY surprised about how much love “Shattered Silence” has received and hope that you enjoy this follow up just as much. <3 Once again , this has been written in my notes app, I hope I didn’t miss any mistakes.
Tags🏷️ @a-queen-blr @anxious-doodler @brabuscoffwe
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The days after the break-in were a blur of frantic packing and moving. You had to find a new place fast—nothing too fancy, just something safe, something that could hold your things and the remaining bits of your research. But the weight of it all pressed down on you, your muscles aching from days spent running between your old and new apartment. You didn’t have the luxury of time to process what had happened the night you stormed into the lab, or even think much about him.
But the nights…
The nights were when you couldn’t stop thinking about how, despite everything, Jayce had held you. How, for a brief moment, you had leaned into him without fear of rejection. You’d allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, and he hadn’t pushed you away.
Now, you found yourself trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest every time you thought about him, but the silence between you both felt suffocating.
Meanwhile, Jayce had buried himself in his work. The breakthrough he’d been chasing for months was nearly within reach, and that goal, that obsession, kept him up at night. But even as his mind raced with equations and possibilities, something nagged at him—a thought that he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried.
It had started that night when you had collapsed into his arms, your trembling form clinging onto him like a lifeline. The way your body had felt in his embrace, how you had allowed him to hold and comfort you… something about it just felt right. And the days since? It was almost like he couldn't think straight without you. Your presence had become something he couldn’t quite get out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, your face would appear—raw, vulnerable, but somehow more real than anything else in his life.
But what exactly was that thing between you? Was it something real, or just the aftershock of an unexpected and stressful situation? Jayce couldn’t even bring himself to ask.
---
It was late when Heimerdinger found him pacing in the lab, his mind so tangled in equations that the pieces didn’t seem to fit anymore.
“You’re working too hard, Jayce.” Heimerdinger’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet insistence behind it. He hadn’t seen the young inventor so distracted in what felt like ages.
Jayce, who had been scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, didn’t even look up. “I’m close to figuring this out. I just need a few more adjustments,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual tone of conviction.
Heimerdinger tilted his head slightly, his sharp gaze studying the younger man. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the nature of the inventor’s problems. “You were always quick to tell me how distracting it was when you were around her. How you could hardly think clearly when she was near.” Heimerdinger spoke , a nonchalant tone covering up the intention behind his statement.
Jayce froze, his pen hovering mid-air. He couldn’t remember ever having said that, but since the incident the times of feeling annoyed by you felt so far away. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. That really had been how he’d felt around you, hadn’t it? You had always found a way of breaking through his concentration, making him second-guess his thoughts and decisions.
But now? He didn’t feel distracted anymore. The thought of you didn’t pull him away from his work—it was more like you were... quieting the noise in his mind. Every time he thought about you, his thoughts slowed, calmed. The gears in his brain didn’t spin at a hundred miles per hour anymore. They… rested.
Sighing, Jayce met Heimerdinger’s knowing gaze. "It’s not the same,” he said, his voice quieter now, unsure. “It’s... different.”
Heimerdinger gave him a pointed look, crossing his arms behind his back as he looked up at the young man. “You’ve been working non-stop for days, Jayce. Sometimes the best breakthroughs come when we step away from the work for a little while. You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep this up."
Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but Heimerdinger was already walking toward the door. “I’m forcing you out of here. Take a break. Go see her,” he said, an almost cheerful tone in his voice. And with that, he was gone.
Jayce sat in stunned silence for a moment, the yordle’s words hanging in the air. Go see her? If he was honest to himself, he hadn’t even thought about it. A part of his mind harbouring a feeling of anxiousness regarding the inevitable confrontation. But something in Heimerdinger’s voice made him hesitate. It was as if the older man had seen through all the layers of self-doubt Jayce had buried himself under.
With the scrape of his chair he stood up. He needed to get out of the lab. He needed to breathe. He needed to see you.
---
It wasn’t hard to find your new place. Jayce had always been able to track down anything and anyone, with ease—Piltover wasn’t exactly a large city after all.
But as he stood outside your new apartment, his stomach churned. The weight of everything he had avoided saying hung over him like a dark storm cloud. He had no idea how this would play out—what could he even say? That he hadn’t been able to think straight since the night you’d come to him? That he’d wanted to be there for you, but had no clue how to navigate what had happened between you both?
But before he could completely lose his nerve, the door to the apartment opened, and you appeared.
You looked… tired. Your hair was pulled back in a messy up-do, and your shirt was slightly wrinkled, but there was something comforting about the chaos surrounding you. Not wanting to stare , his golden eyes quickly drifting to the space behind you. It was clearly your place now, your sanctuary, but it was still a work in progress.
You saw him before he could even open his mouth to say anything, and a flicker of surprise crossed your face. “Jayce? What are you—”
“I—uh, I came to check on you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, suddenly awkward. His nervous gaze switching back and forth between you and the wood on your door. “See how you’re doing… with the new place and everything.”
You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside, allowing him to enter. “Well,” you said with a tired half-smile, “it’s been a lot of work. Still don’t know where half my things are.”
Jayce chuckled as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His mind reeling at how your presence suddenly made him feel less anxious, like he didn’t have to carry his burdens anymore . Not here, not now.
You motioned toward a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room, your smile sheepish, almost apologetic. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at putting together furniture, would you?”
Without a second thought, Jayce was moving toward the pile, rolling up his sleeves with a quiet determination. “I can manage,” he said with a grin, glancing back at you. “But only if you promise not to laugh at my attempts.”
You smirked, feeling a flicker of warmth in your chest. “No promises,” you teased, but there was a lightness in your voice now where tiredness had been before.
For the next few hours, the two of you worked side by side, not really talking, but filling the space between you with easy silence. There was something almost intimate in the simplicity of it—a shared task, each moment feeling like it stitched something new into the fabric of your newfound connection. The screech of a screwdriver, the soft clink of metal against wood, and the occasional, shared chuckle when one of you fumbled—it was like you were building something together, but not just the furniture. It was this. Whatever it was that had started to grow between you.
You worked in rhythm, so comfortable with him that it didn’t even feel strange. You caught yourself looking up at him a few times, watching the way he moved, how the muscles in his arms flexed when assembling the pieces and silently admiring the way the light caught the lines of his face. Jayce wasn’t just the scientist, the bold, sometimes aloof figure you'd known—here, in this space, he felt… real. Vulnerable, even. The arrogant mask you had become so accustomed to had slipped away, leaving only the person beneath. And for the first time, you saw him as someone who was just as human as you.
When the last piece of furniture was assembled, both of you collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was still a mess, but somehow, it felt more like home now. After hours of unpacking, moving boxes, and trying to make sense of the chaos, you and Jayce had both reached a kind of quiet, shared exhaustion. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through the windows—golden and warm—that made everything feel a little less overwhelming.
Jayce was beside you on the couch, leaning back against the cushions with his sleeves still rolled up, hair unkempt and his face still a little flushed from the work. Normally, by now you’d be bickering with each other, exchanging sarcastic remarks til one of you would have enough and storm out of the room. But ever since your distraught form had stormed into his lab, that usual dynamic was missing. The crackling back-and-forth had faded into something quieter, something more... honest.
“So, this is it, huh?” you said, glancing around the room. It was a mix of completed and incomplete, a snapshot of a new beginning. “Still a long way to go, but... it’s getting there.”
Jayce surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on the boxes and the half-finished furniture scattered around. “It’s... definitely not what I expected,” he said, his lips twitching into a smile. “You still got a ton of stuff for someone who has been robbed.” You laughed lightly, but it wasn’t a tense laugh like it would have been just a few days ago. It was more... genuine.
The silence stretched a little longer, and you found yourself thinking about how easily you used to hide behind the jabs and insults. You had both spent so much time pretending—pretending that you couldn’t stand each other, pretending like there was nothing more beneath the surface. But nevertheless, despite years of constant back and forth, Jayce had been the one your heart had led you to when your mind was in a state of absolute panic.
“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time pretending,” you said softly, looking at him from the corner of your eye. “Pretending like we couldn’t get along, pretending like I didn’t... care.”
Jayce’s eyes flicked over to you, something unreadable in his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t respond, allowing the truth to settle between you.
“I think I was pretending, too,” he said finally, his voice low and honest. “Pretending I didn’t want... this.” He gestured loosely between you two, his hand hovering in the air, as if the words were more difficult to articulate than the feelings behind them.
There it was. That truth you had both danced around for so long. And now, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like a breath you both had been holding ever since Jayce had comforted you that fateful night, waiting for the right moment to exhale.
You turned toward him, your body instinctively moving closer. You didn’t have to think about it. The space between you was just too small now, too important to leave empty. As if by reflex, your hand reached out, softly brushing his arm, letting your fingers rest gently against his. The touch was tentative at first but you felt him respond instantly—his hand turning slightly, his fingers seeking yours, meeting you halfway.
It was subtle, a small connection that sent a rush of warmth through you. Neither of you said anything. The words didn’t feel necessary anymore. Jayce shifted a little, his knee brushing against yours, his hand gently drawing you closer. He wasn’t in a rush. You weren’t either. But as the space between you closed even more, something shifted, and you both knew the moment was right.
Jayce’s thumb traced along the back of your hand, his touch light but deliberate. Slowly, he turned toward you, his body leaning in, and you could feel his breath on your lips before his mouth even touched yours. It wasn’t a desperate move, but one full of quiet intent, like this was something that had been building between you for far too long.
His lips met yours gently at first—just a soft brush, testing, as though waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Neither of you did. The kiss deepened, slowly, naturally. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his other hand slid around your waist, his electric touch finding its way underneath your shirt, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours felt so right, so easy, just like it had back in the lab when he had shielded you from your troubles, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You melted into him. There was no rush, no hesitation now. Just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, the tender way his hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if memorizing the feel of of your skin underneath his fingertips.
When you pulled back, there was no immediate rush to fill the space with words. The air between you felt charged, but in a quiet, intimate way. You both breathed deeply, your lips tingling from the kiss, your pulse still racing a marathon in your chest.
Jayce’s hand lingered on your waist, his thumb absently tracing circles on your skin. “Guess we don’t have to pretend to not like each other anymore,” he murmured, his voice hushed, almost unsure, like the weight of everything was finally settling in. You shook your head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as your hand found his again. “No. I guess not.”
Jayce leaned back into the couch, his body angled closer to yours now. His eyes twinkled with that familiar teasing glint, but there was something new in the way he looked at you. Something lighter. “So, dinner? I think I’ve earned it.”
You chuckled, your fingers still intertwined with his as you stood. “You’ve already helped me move half my furniture, Jayce. You’re definitely sticking around.”
He flashed you a relaxed grin, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied sigh. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”
Letting go of his hand, you turned toward the kitchen, starting to gather ingredients, and Jayce followed you, leaning in just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Need any help?”
You glanced at him with a smile. “Unless you’ve got a Hextech gadget to chop vegetables, I’ve got it under control.”
Jayce chuckled and stepped back, settling in at the table as you started to prepare a meal. There was something comforting in his quiet presence, in the easy rhythm of the evening. You moved around each other effortlessly, the space between you filled with warmth rather than words.
Soon enough, you set the table and sat down together, the simple meal feeling more like a shared moment than just food. Jayce took a bite, then raised an eyebrow in approval. “I’m impressed. Didn’t expect you to be this good at it.”
You laughed, your fingers brushing his as you reached for your drink. “I’m full of surprises.” He smiled at that, his eyes lingering on your face , as if trying to capture the moment.
After dinner, you started to clear the table and do the dishes when Jayce moved to help. You smiled and gently took the dish towel from his hands. “I’ve got this,” you said softly. He gave you a mock pout in return. “I was just getting into it.” Looking up at him, you smiled fondly at his behaviour. “You’ve done enough for today.”
Jayce stepped closer, golden eyes soft as his hand reached out for the towel again. “I don’t mind,” he murmured, his warmth filling the tiny space of your kitchen and wrapping around you like a safety blanket.
“Thanks,” you whispered, cheeks burning with a soft blush as you suddenly felt the quiet comfort of his presence in a way that made everything else feel far away.
Jayce leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead, light but sincere. “Anytime.”
And just like that, everything felt perfectly in place.
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letsgetbigger · 4 months ago
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OnlyFat
Nigel looked at himself in the mirror, as he did every morning, admiring his toned and sculpted body, the result of years of dieting and hard work at the gym. At 28 years old, he felt at the peak of his physical form. Firm muscles, broad shoulders, and a defined abdomen, along with his handsome face and sizable cock, had earned him a considerable number of followers on OnlyFans. While he wasn’t a millionaire, earning an average of about two thousand dollars a month allowed him certain luxuries and a pretty comfortable lifestyle. He enjoyed his routine. He filmed private videos, always eager to please, and responded to the strangest and most specific requests from his fans. No matter what they asked of him, he always found a way to enjoy it; perhaps due to his naturally submissive nature, something he had discovered long ago and now used to his advantage.
That Tuesday, as he checked the messages in his account, he came across a proposal that made him pause. It was from someone named Dom43, who had written to him several times before, though never with such a direct request. The message read:
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you gain ten pounds of fat in a month and send me a video of the results. No tricks. I want to see how you change. What do you say?”
Nigel raised an eyebrow and reread the offer over and over. It wasn’t the typical request he was used to. At first, it seemed strange, almost absurd. But the money—a thousand dollars!—was a considerable temptation. Plus, a part of him, the part that had always enjoyed obeying and submitting to others’ desires, felt a twinge of excitement at the idea. After a few minutes of thought, he shrugged and let himself go with his gut.
“I accept,” he wrote back.
He knew doing this would change something, though he wasn’t sure what. What he didn’t expect was just how much this would lead him down an unexpected path.
For Nigel, gaining ten pounds in a month didn’t seem like much of a challenge. And he knew that once he hit the goal and pocketed that thousand dollars, he could go back to his strict diet and regain his physique in a matter of weeks. It was just a simple detour, a small, temporary indulgence. Nothing serious. With that assurance, he decided to change his eating habits.
That same afternoon, he went to the grocery store, filling his cart with everything he normally avoided: frozen pizzas, pastries, salty snacks, and especially lots of tubs of ice cream, which he promised himself to devour every night. Salads were out of the picture for a few weeks. When he got home, the idea of indulging in unrestrained pleasure, of breaking the rules he had imposed on himself for years, turned him on. Even more so when he remembered he was doing it for Dom43, to fulfill his request.
That night, he sat on the couch in front of the TV, a pizza on one side and a tub of ice cream on the other, a smile on his face. At first, he ate because he was hungry, but soon that hunger turned into something darker, more intimate. He kept eating, even though he was no longer hungry. The mere thought of knowing he was stuffing himself, filling up to please someone, gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. When he finished, he lay back on the couch, gently stroking his slightly bloated stomach, feeling strangely satisfied.
***
Two weeks had passed, and Nigel had fully embraced his new routine of excess. He was eating as if it were a competition. The food filled him, but what really satisfied him was the idea of transforming his body at someone else’s request. He knew he was changing, that his body was reacting. And it was confirmed when he weighed himself: eight pounds gained. He was close to reaching his goal.
The next day, while working out, his personal trainer, Mark, noticed something different. Nigel was in the middle of doing crunches when Mark let out a mocking laugh.
“You’ve been slacking a bit, man,” he said, giving Nigel’s stomach a light tap. “You’ve put on some weight. And not just around the belly…” Mark added, motioning toward his backside.
Nigel laughed, trying to hide the heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, well, I’ve been indulging a little—nothing serious.”
Mark shook his head, but the comment stuck with Nigel. That teasing remark hit deep. It didn’t bother him, though. On the contrary, he liked it. For the rest of the workout, he couldn’t stop thinking about how his body was changing, about how much Dom43 would enjoy watching him soften up.
When he got home, he quickly stripped off his clothes and looked in the mirror. He touched his stomach, which was no longer as flat as it once was, and caressed the soft roundness beginning to form on his rear. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, and at that moment, Nigel couldn’t resist any longer. He collapsed onto his bed and jerked off, reaching the most intense climax of his life. What had started as a simple game to make some money had now completely consumed him.
The month had come to an end, and Nigel was ready. He carefully set up the camera, making sure the lighting was perfect, bright enough to highlight every change in his body, to show Dom43 the results of his effort. He stood in front of the mirror, took a deep breath, and began undressing slowly, recording the whole process. First, he removed his shirt, revealing his torso. His chest, once firm and defined, now had a slight sag to it. His belly, swollen and covered by a soft layer of fat, folded into rolls when he bent slightly. Then he pulled down his pants, leaving him in his tight white briefs, which now clung to him like never before. His thighs were noticeably thicker. But the real surprise came when he turned around. His ass, bigger and rounder, seemed to want to burst out of the tight fabric. The briefs could barely contain it. He gently touched his ass, feeling its fullness. Without missing a beat, he moved to the scale he had placed in front of the camera. He stepped on it carefully, watching the numbers climb rapidly. And there it was, the number that left him stunned: 191 pounds. He had gained fifteen pounds instead of the ten Dom43 had asked for. Five extra pounds, the result of his complete submission to food. Seeing the number, Nigel instantly got hard, unable to help himself.
“A hundred and ninety-one...” he muttered to himself.
Without thinking any further, he let the excitement take over. He jerked off in front of the camera, his breath ragged, and his moans filling the room. He did it for Dom43, but also for himself, for everything he had discovered about himself in the process.
Once finished, he sent the private video with a mix of anxiety and satisfaction, eagerly awaiting Dom43’s response. It didn’t take long to arrive: a payment confirmation accompanied by a comment that made Nigel shiver. “You’re a pathetic pig. You gained all this weight just because I told you to. I love it.” Nigel read aloud quietly. “I’ll give you ten thousand dollars more if you gain another twenty pounds in two months. Do you dare to become my fantasy?”
Nigel sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his still-naked, slightly sweaty body after the recording. His phone’s screen glowed with Dom43’s message: ten thousand dollars to gain another twenty pounds. The offer was tempting, too tempting. With that kind of money, he wouldn’t have to make more videos for months. He could take a break from his online life and focus on something else. Just the thought of that financial freedom made him feel relieved. But there was something more—a deep desire to please Dom43, to follow his orders, to submit to whatever he asked. It consumed him inside. He had discovered a new form of pleasure. Every pound he gained, every humiliating comment, ignited something within him that he had never felt before. Pleasing Dom43 had become almost an addiction. Yet, fear lingered in the background. He had already gained fifteen pounds, and although he initially thought he could lose it easily, he was starting to doubt whether the same would be true for thirty-five pounds. What if he couldn’t? What if continuing to gain weight destroyed the success of his OnlyFans account?
***
Nigel never imagined he would lose so much control. What started as a challenge, almost a game, had become a new reality. In just a month and a half of nonstop eating, he had gained the twenty-pounds Dom43 requested, pushing his body to limits he had never thought possible. Now weighing 211 pounds, the man he saw in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. His belly hung over the waistband, his thighs rubbed together with every step, and his once firm chest now bounced lightly with each movement. But the most shocking transformation of all was his ass, now enormous, two soft masses that jiggled with every step. And for some reason, that excited him more than it scared him.
When he arrived at the gym one afternoon, Mark greeted him with his usual mocking grin.
"Well, look who's here: my star client," Mark said sarcastically, his eyes scanning Nigel’s new body.
Throughout the workout, Mark made constant comments about his weight. Every time Nigel did a squat or lifted weights, he could feel Mark’s eyes on him, watching how his belly wobbled or how his ass strained against his shorts, which barely contained it anymore. But the most intense moment came after the workout when Nigel stepped out of the showers. As he was drying off, he noticed Mark watching him from across the locker room.
"Jesus, man..." Mark said, his eyes trailing over Nigel’s naked body. "You're huge. Like, seriously."
Before Nigel could respond, Mark stepped closer and gave him a smack on the ass. The sound echoed in the room, and Nigel’s butt cheeks rippled under Mark’s firm hand like jello. Nigel felt his face heat up, a mix of shame and arousal spreading over his skin.
"Damn," Mark laughed, "that moves like jello. What have you been eating, ice cream by the gallon? You’re getting obese, dude."
Nigel couldn’t answer, his throat dry, his mind stuck on the echo of Mark’s words. Obese. It was the first time anyone had called him that, and instead of being offended, the word hit him like a lightning bolt of pure desire. He tried to laugh, but the sound came out weak, almost choked.
He stood in front of the camera, taking deep breaths as he prepared for his second private session with Dom43. Like before, he undressed slowly, savoring each moment. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a torso that no longer had any trace of the firm muscles he once prided himself on. His chest was soft and round, visibly moving with each breath. His nipples had widened and felt unusually sensitive as he brushed his fingers over them. Then he slid off his pants, left in the same white briefs from the previous video. This time, they felt like a cruel joke. The edges dug into his hips and thighs, squeezing him in a way that was both uncomfortable and intensely arousing. His swollen belly hung slightly over the waistband, which seemed ready to give up the fight. Nigel turned to face the camera, letting it capture the most obvious change of all: his ass. It completely filled the briefs, making them look absurdly small. The fabric was stretched to its limit, with the tops of his cheeks spilling over, exposing the crack as if the briefs couldn’t possibly contain so much mass. He gave a slight shake, and his ass jiggled, continuing to bounce for a few seconds before settling. Seeing himself like that—so exposed, so impossibly large—sent a wave of arousal through him that nearly made him lose control right then and there. Nigel couldn’t help but smile. He knew Dom43 would love seeing what he had accomplished. The high point of the video came when he stepped onto the scale, carefully positioned in front of the camera. He showed the result: 211 pounds. Thirty-five pounds more than he weighed when this all began. He couldn’t help himself; the thrill of having transformed for someone else, of having fully surrendered to it, overwhelmed him. Once again, he masturbated in front of the camera, but this time, the orgasm was more intense, more liberating. His breath grew ragged, and every curve of his body shook with the force of his release.
When it was over, he sent the video to Dom43. The payment came through quickly, but what made Nigel’s heart race wasn’t the large sum of money. It was the words that followed.
“You’ve become my obedient pig. You’re good for nothing but getting fatter. You should be ashamed of how far you’ve fallen, but the worst part is, I know you love it.”
Nigel swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. It was true. He loved every humiliating word, every cruel comment that made him feel smaller, more submissive, despite his growing size. But it was the last line of the message that left him frozen.
“I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars if you gain another thirty pounds.”
***
Nigel was nervous. It had been over two months since he last filmed a video for his regular OnlyFans subscribers, and now, with his body drastically transformed, he had no idea how they would react. He wanted to see if the weight gain had changed anything, if his fans were still interested in him despite the fact that he no longer had the muscular, chiseled physique that had attracted them in the first place. Deep down, he hoped it wouldn’t matter too much, that they would still desire him, and that he wouldn’t have to rely on Dom43 to stay financially stable. He set up the camera like always, but this time, he took a longer look at himself in the mirror. It was incredible how much his body had changed in just two months. His body felt heavy. Every movement made him more aware of his size.
"It's just a video," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. "I just want to see how they react."
He stood in front of the camera, shirtless, revealing his round, soft torso, wearing only a pair of black briefs that used to be loose on him. He did the usual gestures he used in his videos, showing his body from different angles, touching his chest and stomach, running his hands over the areas now covered in fat.
He uploaded the video.
The first responses came in quickly. As soon as he read the comments, his fears were confirmed. There was no acceptance, no admiration. Just criticism, mockery, and, above all, shock.
“What happened to you? You used to look incredible, but now you look like a different person,” wrote one of his longtime followers.
“You’re huge! And not in a good way. What kind of joke is this?” added another.
The comments kept coming, each one harsher than the last. They called him fat and disgusting. Some even felt betrayed by the change, as if Nigel had deliberately hidden what he’d been doing over the past few months. Others openly laughed at him, making fun of how his body had lost all definition. Nigel read every word, feeling a mix of humiliation and indescribable excitement. He had expected a negative reaction, but the brutal honesty of their attacks surpassed all his expectations. Far from feeling defeated, something dark and deep inside him awakened. Each insult, each criticism, made him feel more alive, more aware of his body and what he had achieved. The taunts about his physique didn’t discourage him; they aroused him in a way he couldn’t ignore. It was as if those words freed him. He didn’t want to go back. He wanted to push forward. He turned off his computer screen and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Dom43 had offered him twenty thousand dollars to gain another thirty pounds. Thirty pounds that would transform him even more, taking him to a new level of submission. He had thought about rejecting the offer, about going back to his former physique. But after reading his fans’ comments, after feeling the impact of their words on his body, there was no longer any doubt. With a smile on his face, Nigel decided he was going to accept the challenge. He was ready to fully give in, to see just how far he could go.
***
Nigel stopped going to the gym altogether. Every morning, he woke up to the same routine: eat, jerk off, and eat more. His appetite seemed endless, and his libido was out of control, higher than ever. The discipline he once had had crumbled, replaced by an obsession with giving in to food and the thrill of his own transformation. His clothes no longer fit. The jeans, tight shirts, and briefs that had once defined his muscular figure now wouldn't even make it past his thighs or tore when he tried putting them on. Soon, he realized the only piece of clothing that still fit him was an old tracksuit, and even that didn’t fit well—it was so tight that the fabric stretched ridiculously, and his belly stuck out. He only wore it when he went out to buy more food, but at home, he spent his days completely naked.
In three months, Nigel had gained another thirty-five pounds, surpassing even Dom43’s challenge. His body was unrecognizable, and the scale didn’t lie. He weighed 246 pounds, a number he’d never imagined reaching. His thighs were so thick they had changed the way he walked. His belly was soft, round, and hung over. His arms, once firm, were now wrapped in fat. And his chest, completely soft, jiggled with even the slightest movement. He knew it was time to film the video for Dom43. He prepared in the simplest and most provocative way possible: completely naked, with a box of donuts by his side and the scale ready to show the result. The camera started rolling, and Nigel let himself get caught up in the moment. He grabbed one of the donuts and bit into it slowly, letting the sugar slide down his lips as he chewed exaggeratedly. He knew Dom43 would love to see him like this, enjoying the food that had turned him into what he was now.
“I’ve surpassed your challenge,” Nigel said, his voice thick with pleasure as he bit into another donut. “Another thirty-five pounds. I hope you’re happy.”
He stood up with difficulty, his ass visibly bouncing as he walked toward the scale. He stepped onto it with some effort, and it stopped at 246 pounds. Nigel showed the number to the camera with a satisfied grin on his face.
“246 pounds,” he said with pride in his voice. “But that’s not all.”
He grabbed a measuring tape and started measuring his body. First, he wrapped it around his waist.
“Fifty inches,” he announced, staring at his belly.
Then he measured his ass, which had turned into a massive ball of fat, and the number was just as shocking.
“Fifty-three inches. I can’t even fit in my office chair.”
Nigel paused for a moment, looking at the camera with a euphoric expression.
“All of this... is for you, Dom43. I hope you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”
He ended the video with one last bite, chewing slowly as he jiggled his whole body while masturbating. When he finished, he turned off the camera and collapsed onto the couch, panting from exhaustion. He sent the video to Dom43 and waited, knowing the response wouldn’t take long. When it came, it was exactly what he expected.
“You’ve exceeded my expectations, pig. I never imagined you’d reach this point, that you’d become such a mountain of fat for me. Look at yourself, you’re pathetic, completely out of control. And you know what? I love it. You’ve done everything I asked and more. You’re the perfect submissive fat boy. You’re good for nothing but eating, getting fatter, and letting others laugh at you. But I must also say, I’m proud of you. You’ve proven you’re completely mine, willing to transform yourself this way just to please me. You’re incredible, in the worst way possible, of course, but that’s exactly where your greatness lies.”
Nigel stared at the screen, absorbed in the words. He had done everything Dom43 had wanted. And yet, he felt he could go further. The idea of gaining even more weight, of leaving behind any trace of his former self, called to him with unstoppable force. Without thinking too much, he typed the question that had been on his mind for days, a question that made him tremble with anticipation:
“How much will you pay me if I reach 300 pounds?”
The silence that followed for a few seconds was deafening, but Dom43’s response came quickly.
“I’m not paying you anything. This time, you won’t do it for the money. I want you to do it for me, because you can’t stop yourself now. I want you to gain until you reach 300 pounds just to please me, because now you know that’s the only thing that turns you on. You’ll do it because you belong to me.”
Nigel took a deep breath, feeling each word of that message wrap around him, filling him with a mix of submission and absolute pleasure. He knew Dom43 was right. It was no longer about the money. It was about something much bigger. What had started as a simple desire to fulfill a fantasy had become his reality. With trembling fingers, he typed the only thing he knew he could say at that moment, the only thing his mind and cock screamed for with overwhelming clarity:
“I’ll do it.”
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months ago
Text
His Lucky Charm
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: smut, cheating
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After a whole day of running errands around town, you finally had an evening to yourself. You've decided that this will be a relaxing Friday night where you'll do nothing but take a bath, wash your hair and read a book in bed to recharge your batteries.
You even told your boyfriend Miles that you needed an evening to yourself and that you would make it up to him tomorrow for skipping dinner tonight.
After a long and relaxing much-needed bath, you put on your short pajama set and started combing your wet hair. Your attention was distracted by your phone vibrating on the washing machine. You took a look at the screen only to see Charles' messages popping up.
Are you home?
I need to see you
You didn't even get to answer the message when you heard a knock on your door. You paused for a moment before heading for the door. As you walked, you looked at the time at your phone, which was already showing 11 p.m. and you knew that you definitely weren't expecting anyone else, well, except Charles apparently.
You looked through the peephole and there he was looking straight at you as if he knew you were looking.
"Charles?" You said opening the door. He was standing there with his elbows resting on the door frame and leaning inward. "What are you doing here?"
You couldn't help but get worried about him. You texted him right after the Silverstone fiasco, but he never responded. You knew he was going through it so you decided to give him some time planning to check on him when he was ready to talk about it. But he got ahead of you and came to you instead.
Charles and you have been best friends for a long time now. Best friends who were always there for each other, who always ran to each other when things got tough and, well, best friends who had sex now and then.
There was always something more than just friendship between you. Immense sexual attraction and tension that you happily enjoyed from time to time. Even when you were in a relationship with other people, it was normal and natural for you two to hook up on a weekend off. Even though it was wrong, you didn't even count it as "cheating" because it was the two of you.
But since you found a new boyfriend, Miles, things have changed a bit between the two of you. Since you've been with Miles, not once has Charles ended up in your bed. He noticed that you stopped giving him attention that he was used to so he started behaving differently towards you. He didn't like that he couldn't have you like before. He also didn't like the fact that you stopped coming to the races to support him. And what he hated most of all was that you really seemed to like that Miles guy.
"I needed to see you. Can I come in?" He pleaded with his green eyes piercing right into your soul.
"You know, you should announce yourself before you come, especially at such a late hour. Miles could've been here." You said stepping aside for him to come in.
"I texted you, didn't I?"
"Umm, yeah 30 seconds before you knocked at my door?" You rolled your eyes following him into the living room. He said nothing but threw himself onto your couch and sighed. He didn't even need to say anything to let you know he wasn't feeling himself and you felt bad for him so you asked "Do you want to talk about it? I texted you right after the race, but you never responded. I figured you needed some time for yourself."
"There's not much to talk about. Every fucking weekend for me is the weekend to forget, I'm getting sick and tired of it." He said running his fingers through his hair.
"I know the last few races weren't the result you were hoping for, but that doesn't make you a bad driver. Don't be too hard on yourself, please" You tried to comfort him placing your hand over his knee and squeezing it.
You hated to see him like this and you worried for him knowing that he had a tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong. Every time when he’s had a bad race you were the one he came to and you managed to calm him down. But since you've been with Miles, Charles has had a lot more bad weekends, and this is the first time he's come to you for comfort.
"No, it's been too many races now. There is always something else at stake, there is a new problem every time, I don't know..I just..I can't-" His voice cracked and you didn't hesitate for a second to sit next to him and pull him into a hug.
"I'm so sorry, Charles" You rubbed his back as he kept his face buried into the crook of your neck tightening his grip around you.
"I'm so tired, y/n" He whispered letting out a deep breath.
"I know you are, but you need to keep pushing forwards. There's just simply no other choice. Giving up is not an option." You put your hand over his cheek to make him look at you. "You get up every day and try again. All the effort and pain will pay off one day, I promise. You know you're one of the best at what you do. The best for me if that means anything to you." You gently caressed his cheek with your thumb and he smiled at your last sentence taking your hand in his and bringing it over to his mouth to kiss it.
"You know what I noticed?"
"What?"
"The last time I won a race, you were there. Ever since you stopped coming my performance has dropped" He said now putting his hand on your cheek and slowly pulling your face closer to his. "Makes me think you were my lucky charm" Your heart trembled as he closed the space between your lips pressing them together.
Even though you kissed back and as much as you were glad to hear him say that, you broke the kiss pulling back and slightly pushing him away from you. "Charles..we can't..I can't"
"Y/n, please..." He took your hand pulling you back to him again. "I need you to fix me"
You got nervous because you knew where this was going so you got up and headed towards the kitchen which was connected to the living room.
You felt like you had to run because you knew Charles was your weakness which you could easily give in to, and you didn't want to do to Miles what you did to other guys with Charles. Miles was good to you and genuinely cared about you and for the first time in your life you felt guilty.
But there was no point in you running away from him because seconds later Charles was behind you with his hands on your waist pressing his chest against your back.
"I miss you, chérie" He said quietly leaning down and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. "I need you to make everything better again" He continued moving your still wet hair to the side so he can have access to your neck. Once his lips found your neck, you threw your head back against his chest.
"Charles, we can't do this anymore.." You struggled to resist.
"Why not? It's not like we haven't done it before."
"I-it's different this time. I-I really like him." You almost felt guilty saying it in front of him, but that did nothing to stop him.
"C'mon, it's us. I need you so bad, y/n. Nobody does it like we do." He said nibbling the skin on your neck while his hands slowly slid under your t-shirt. You moaned as he grabbed your breasts running his fingertips over your nipples and grinded his already hard crotch against your ass.
You surprised yourself once again by seeing how easily he could have you whenever he wanted. You weren't proud of that, especially not now when you thought you didn't want the same thing he did. But that's just what you thought at least.
So when he whispered into your ear “C’mon, baby, make me cum” you were quick to turn around and vigorously pull his head down to kiss him.
"And what are you going to do for me, Charles? Hm?" Your fingers worked fast unbottoning his pants, pulling them down and letting them fall to the ground.
"Gonna make you cum so hard you're gonna forget all about that Miles guy."
Niether of you needed any kind on warming up. You were always so ready for each other. Your slit was dripping by his words only and his tip teasing your entrance was already covered in precum.
He pushed himself inside you with ease both of you letting out deep groans in desperation to feel more. As soon as he slid in and felt your warm walls hug him his pace quickened breathlessly thrusting into you.
Your knuckles on one of your hands turned white from how tightly you held onto the edge of the kitchen counter while your other arm was wrapped around Charles’ neck.
His eyes rolled at the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy that was now making loud wet noises that always drove Charles crazy. He kissed you passionately bringing his hand from your hip to your cheek then down to your neck firmly gripping it making your throw your head back.
“Fuck, Charles” You panted.
“Like that, baby? Does it feel good?” He asked tightening his grip around your neck.
“Yeah, fuck, just like that.” You gasped struggling to breath now.
“I bet he can’t fuck you like this, hm?” Miles was anything but on your mind right now, but all Charles wanted to hear was that no one could make you feel the way he could. “Do you let him cum inside you?”
“Charles..”
“Answer me.” He was kind of scared to find out because he didn’t want anyone to have that privilege but him. It was his way of claiming you as his.
“No, ah-“ You cried out tightening around his cock making him curse under his breath.
“You gonna cum?” He asked looking down at you and connecting your lips after you nodded yes. “Me too, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, fuuck”
A couple of more thrusts and your orgasms washed over both of you leaving you panting and moaning into each others mouth. His knees buckled and his head fell against your shoulder burying his neck into your neck as he filled you up to the brim.
When your breathing calmed down, Charles took your face between his hands and began to kiss you unusually tenderly. Once he regained strength in his legs he pulled his cock out of you hissing at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. He pulled you to him and wrapped your legs around his waist lifting you up from the counter and leading you to your room.
He gently put you down on the bed hovering over you and continuing with the tender small kisses all over your body. That was unusual for him because normally after you'd fucked he'd kiss you once or twice and you'd both fall asleep right away and in the morning you'd pretend like nothing happened the night before.
“Charles, what are you doing?” You asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” He asked laying next to you and pulling you against his body so he was facing your back as his arms hugged you tightly.
“We usually don’t do this..” You pointed out.
“Do you not like it?” He asked insecurity clear in his voice.
“No, I mean, I do like it, but it’s just not something that we do you know..”
He sighed gathering the courage to tell you what he was about to and what has been bothering him for quite some time now. “I’ve made so many mistakes in my life can’t even count them.” He paused. “One of them is not making you mine a long time ago and letting other guys have you.”
You didn't expect this confession from him and to be honest, you didn't even know how to respond to what he just told you. Some kind of inexplicable feeling appeared in your stomach that you have never felt before so you turned around to face him looking straight into his eyes with parted lips.
“Everything’s easier with you by my side” He said quietly and you were still speechless. It's not like you never thought about Charles, about you, in that kind of way, it’s just that you never wanted to initiate first and you never thought he saw as anything other than his best friend who he fucks here and there. “I hope I didn't realize that too late”
“Charles, I don’t know what to say.. I’m honestly too scared to try anything with you.”
“Do you not trust me?” He asked a little hurt by the choice of your words.
“I don’t trust us, Charles. We secretly hurt other people by doing this and I just don’t want us to hurt each other the same way. And most of all I don't want to lose you. You mean too much to me”
Even through the half-dark room, you could see that his eyes became glossy as he bit the inside of his cheek, holding back.
“When it comes to us, there would be no other people on the side, y/n. I swear, I’d never hurt you like that.” He took the palm of your hand and brought it up to his lips leaving a soft kiss over it. “Give us a chance, baby, please” He half whispered sounding almost desperate.
You kissed him calming his inner turmoil for a second. “Why does this feel so frightening? I don’t even know how to start this?” You said pulling back.
“Let’s start by not seeing other people anymore, yeah?” He said tucking the hair behind your ear as he raised himself on his elbows to be above you.
“Yeah, okay” You whispered.
“And let me start by making love to you, the way you deserve it.” He said between kisses. “To show you how much I love you, how much I always have.”
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tsireyasluvr · 1 year ago
Text
Sweetness
Lo’ak x Metkayina!reader
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Authors note: I meant to make this short and sweet but got way carried away😭 hope you guys enjoy this tho! <3 word count: 4k+
Summary: Neteyams death inevitably changed Lo’ak, making him colder and harsher around you than ever before. He shut everyone around him out, but you being the sweet and soft girl of the village made you want to help him get out of his slump. And you did help, just not in the way you might’ve expected.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, comfort, mentions of death, mentions of blood, substance use, alcohol, aged up Lo’ak, dom Lo’ak, mean Lo’ak, innocent reader, praises, brief oral, fingering, drunk sex, grinding, whining, virgin reader, first time (p in v)
Lo’ak struggled with Neteyams death, that couldn’t be more clear to anyone. The entire Sully family had faced their struggles surrounding the older boy’s death, but they had slowly made peace with it. Lo’ak however, wasn’t even close.
He never got over the feeling of it being his fault. He’s the one who pushed Neteyam to save Spider, the one who couldn’t just let things sit and chase after his own family instead. He wanted to save his friend, and in return, he got his brother killed. Lo’ak felt like even more of a failure than before, like he deserved to be treated like an outcast after having his beloved older brother killed.
He’s chosen to ignore his family and friends, ditching his siblings to get drunk and wallow in his sorrows at whatever private place he could find. Really he wasn’t picky, just as long as people would stop bothering him already. He was sick of the looks he’d get from his own family, the bits of pity accompanied by disgust from the rest of the Metkayina clan. 
Never you though. You cared for him, and truth be told you had a bit of a reputation around the clan for being the soft and kind, almost “innocent” cousin of Tsireya and Ao’nung. You were opposite to Lo’ak, never really one to step out of line or do anything that might anger the elders. you didn’t see much of a reason to. You’ve always had a soft spot for the younger Sully boy, mesmerized by how quick he adapted to the way of water, how much effort he put in despite his body not being built for it. He was passionate, rebellious by nature sure, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found it charming. And as his learning went on, you enjoyed occasionally helping to teach him and his siblings, especially when you got to have a few private sessions with him. You were building a friendship, maybe even a small crush arising within you. All right before the tragic death on those rocks. 
You’d see Lo’ak wandering around the village at times, but only really to get his hands on food and whatever alcohol he could get, before he’d disappear again. Into the palm trees, to a separated beach, maybe a clearing near a cave. Those were just a few of your guesses. 
It bothered you. He was once a fiery, determined ball of energy, never taking anyone’s shit and trusting himself to do what felt right. Yet now, he was always alone and hiding. You couldn’t help but frown and worry. So one night, you see him again, walking through the sand in the general direction of what you assumed was the cove, a bottle clearly in hand. Feeling a little brave, you decided to follow him. 
Lo’ak had sat down on a smooth stone ledge overlooking the water. The sun had already set, making your tanhi glow along your soft skin while the moon lit up the scene around you. You timidly walked over to him, sitting down beside him but a little further from the edge with your legs crossed. Neteyam and Lo’ak were the only ones you’ve ever told about your fear of heights. It was something you always thought was a little embarrassing, and they forced the confession out of you when you refused to join them on a ride on Neteyams ikran. You can’t help but feel a little guilty passing that up now. 
Lo’aks gaze was cold, his face showing little emotion while he started out into the water. His eyes had been bloodshot, from the alcohol or lack of sleep you didn’t know, but it was a sight that made your stomach churn either way. You glanced down to his lap, seeing the now half-empty bottle sat between his legs. 
His thoughts were looming over his head, the alcohol doing little to settle the pit in his stomach. That night was all he could ever think about. The pained scream of his mother, the hurtful “you’ve done enough” his father had muttered, feeling Neteyams heart stop beating underneath his palms, his hands wet with his brothers blood-
“Lo’ak?” Your quiet, velvety soft voice broke the silence. You looked up at him with your big green eyes, your lip permanently a little pouty as the cold breeze blew through your curly hair. “Hm?” He grunted, not really looking in your directed as he took another swig from the bottle. You swallowed thickly, before asking your question. 
“Can I stay for a little?” Your voice sounds almost nervous, like he’d snap or bite at you if you pissed him off. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at this, taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. He turned to look at you, his vivid amber eyes faded into something more dull. “Actually, y/n, I kind of came here to be alone.” 
You huffed out a breath, trying not to let the rejection get to you once he turns away again. Instead, you sit a little closer, letting your feet dangle off the edge as your heart starts racing in your chest. He cocked a brow at this, surprised that the village good girl didn’t listen for once. That, and the fact that he knew how scared you were of heights. Wether he’d want to admit it or not, Lo’ak had always noticed you tried to make everything better, even when it seemed impossible.
“People are worried, you know” You say quietly, your voice less shaky now that you managed to calm your heartbeat, trying to focus on him and the sound of the waves rather than how high you were up on these cliffs. “I don’t care, y/n” He scoffed, sipping on the bottle again, hardly feeling the liquid burn his throat anymore. 
You furrowed your brows at that, looking at the side of his face again as you spoke. “I know that’s not true, Lo’ak. You’ve never been careless. I understand you’re hurting, you have every right to, but-“ 
He cut you off with a scowl, turning his head towards you “Oh, do i? Because according to my father, I’m the one who got us all into this mess. You say everyone is worried, but who exactly is everyone, y/n? Because it sure as hell isn’t my family, and your clan has hated me from the fucking start.” He practically snarled, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you.
You looked at him helplessly, feeling yet another tinge of anxiety from his yelling, but knowing deep down it wasn’t meant to be directed at you. Lo’ak stood from his spot, rubbing his face with his hand, and that’s when you smell the wave of alcohol coming from his form. 
“Just.. just go away, y/n. I really don’t need this right now” He leaned against the cliff wall, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waited for you to get up and go. 
You stood, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Truth be told, you weren’t really used to having anyone yell at you. You’ve never stepped out of line or disobeyed orders, no one’s ever had a reason to try and punish or intimidate you. You wondered if it may have you come across as weak, or fragile. Two things that you very much were not, regardless of how soft you may be. 
“Lo’ak, please” You say, trying to stand your ground. “Please just let me stay. I won’t- I won’t try to force you to talk about it anymore, I promise. I’m just worried about you” You pleaded, the breeze becoming more harsh as you felt shivers go up your arms.
He clenched his jaw, something inside him stopping himself from believing that you had good intentions. “why?” He uncrossed his arms, scoffing as he stood up straight in front of you. “Why are you so fucking worried, y/n?” His voice sounded almost taunting, and you couldn’t figure out why.
“Because you’re never around the village anymore. You’re grieving, and I think-“ He cut you off once again.
“What? That you can fix me? Take me on a special project for your healer training maybe? You realize some herbs and spices can’t make this all go away, right? Sorry I can’t help you crawl further up Ronals ass with your little strive for perfection, y/n, but it just so looks like I’m a problem this clan can’t shake” He growls, every word feeling almost like a dagger to your heart. 
“You’re not a problem, Lo’ak” You say gently, trying to keep the calm attitude for him. “I don’t see you as one, I never have. I see so much greatness in you-“ 
“Save the fucking speech, y/n-“
“Will you just let me talk!” 
“…”
You had snapped, tears freely falling down your cheeks now. “Stop treating me like I don’t have feelings! Or like- like you don’t know me! We were friends before all this, you know how much I cared for you, how much i still care for you. It doesn’t matter if every single person in this clan hated you, I care and I worry! And it sucks to see you like this, constant bottle in your hand and the energy and joy completely sucked out of you. It sucks that you walk by me like I don’t matter, that you never talk to me anymore and that you’re always on something. I can’t handle it, and it breaks my heart, so excuse me if I come here to check on you because Im worried!”  
He swallowed hard, taking aback by your outburst but trying not to show it. He felt the guilt slowly creep up his skin, watching your shoulders shake with sobs as you let out a much quieter “I worry”, repeating yourself so helplessly. Lo’aks eyes flicked away for a moment before returning to yours. “You shouldn’t” He muttered out, his voice rough as he reached out a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“I can’t help it” You whisper, sniffling as your lip quivered, your eyes now glossy as you looked up at him. His hand on your cheek made you feel the tiniest spark of comfort. He smiled a little at that, the first almost warm expression you’ve seen on his face in weeks if not months. “Hm, I guess you can’t.”
Lo’ak cupped your face with his free hand, the other still holding the bottle you so desperately wanted to grab and throw over the cliff. He brushed his thumb softly against your cheek, looking into your teary eyes as his heart beat faster. “If you keep getting involved with me like this, you’re going to get hurt, y/n. I think I might have a bit of curse on me” He tried to joke, but you saw past the slight smile.
“Then we’ll let that be my lesson” you say sternly, reaching a delicate hand to hold onto his wrist as you stayed close to him. “Alright, fine. You win, princess” He sighed, before letting go of you and moving back down to where he was sitting, looking back at you as an unspoken invitation to join him. 
you padded over to where he was, shivering slightly as the night wore on, the stone cold against your skin. His eyes were on you, seeing the shiver on your skin from the cold as you tugged a little on the sheer sleeves from the woven top you wore. 
“You cold?” He asked, observing your shivering form. You looked at him, shrugging a little, trying not to seem needy or like you were disturbing the newfound peace. He smirked a little, offering you the nearly empty bottle. 
You made a face at that. “No thanks. I’m not much for drinking” you look back down at your lap, fiddling with the little pearls hanging from your loincloth. 
“Have you ever tried it?” He asked, not necessarily pushing, but definitely holding a teasing tone over you. You shook your head no.
He leaned back, snickering a little bit as he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze on his flushed skin. “Fuck..” He muttered under his breath, opening his eyes to quickly look at you before focusing back on the water beneath them.
“what?” you ask, furrowing your brows in slight confusion. “you’re just so fucking innocent. Like, shielded or something” He smirked, shaking his head slightly. You scoffed a little at that, your lips pouty again. “what, so now i’m not interesting because I haven’t had any messed up traumatic stories?” you crossed your arms as you looked at him. 
“Never said that” He replied, still not looking at you. “Then what are you trying to imply with that?” He licked his teeth before looking at you with another smirk, his fangs momentarily on display. “You’re too trusting. Always looking out for everyone else’s well-being before your own. You walk around like some sort of Angel, y/n.” He used a human term, something he did often. You knew one of the few things he bonded over with his dad was studying the language. 
“You say that like it’s an insult” You quip back, rubbing your arms for warmth. “Because it is.” He replied, eyes scanning over you. “You’re so naive sometimes that it hurts just looking at. Letting people walk all over you. You deserve better than everything that’s been surrounding us.” 
You tried not to let his words bother you, but he really could be so mean sometimes, wether it was intentional or not. Your eyes drift down to the bottle in his lap, feeling a sudden impulse within you as you reach out your hand for it. “give me that” 
“what?” he raised a brow, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “you want a drink?” 
“Yes, I do. Now are you gonna share or am I too innocent for even a sip?” you say, your look unwavering. 
“Well then” He chuckled, passing the bottle over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Go on then. Take a sip.”
You continued holding eye contact with him as you bring the cold bottle to your plump, pink lips, taking a swig before grimacing at the taste, a drop trickling down your chin. “Eywa” you muttered under your breath, the liquid leaving a terrible burn down your throat.
“Fuck, you’re cute” He said, reaching out to wipe off the droplet and licking it off his thumb. A small smile played on his lips. “don’t ever get used to that shit”
“What? It’s totally fine! I hardly even tasted it” You try to assure, taking another sip before practically gagging as the liquid hit your tongue
“yeah, you’re a fucking liar” He laughed softly, reaching out to take the bottle back from you. “we should’ve gotten you something nicer as a first taste. I would’ve mixed it up with that coconut water shit you like” He screwed the lid back on after finishing off the last bit of the bottle. 
“you know, you swear a lot” you say, your voice a little more wavered now with the alcohol. He turned away from you, trying not to break into a grin at the slight slurring of your voice. “And alcohol is gross. I stand by what I said earlier” you say, crossing your arms as if to prove a point.
“Good” He replied, smiling at you as he turned his body more to face you, sitting a little closer as he felt the alcohol in his system too, allowing him to feel more comfortable and less of the constant dread and anxiety in his stomach. “Means you’re not used to it.”
“Course I’m not used to it! You said it yourself I’m all naive and innocent” you say in a mocking tone, rolling your eyes at that. He broke into another snicker at that. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk” He whispered, chuckling softly as he leaned in closer to you, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You know, Ive always kinda wanted to see you like this”
You giggle a little, your cheeks flushing from both the alcohol and his comment. “what? drunk?” You ask, lazily tilting your head to look straight at him, your curls becoming messier from the breeze, a few stray pieces falling over your eyes. “Yeah” He laughed, brushing a lock of hair away from your blushing cheek. “mm sounds like you might have a bit of a corruption kink, Lo” you teased, surprising both of you with your unusually bold words.
“Maybe you’re not so wrong about that” He confessed, half joking before continuing “I guess I have a bit of a thing for girls like you. All sweet and gentle. Or more like.. just you” his face has gone a little more serious, looking over your features with an almost predatory gaze.
“and here I thought you were asking me to stay away” you lightly tease, acting like his words from earlier didn’t have an effect on you. “I did, and I meant it. You’re too good for me” He leaned down, his lips almost hovering above yours. “But it’s hard to stay true to that, when you’re sat all cute and flustered ‘cause of me”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden close proximity, leaning in closer to him as you look up at him with that same wide-eyed look that drove him crazy, your lips plump and slightly wet from the alcohol still. “i’m tired of you pushing me away because you think it’s the right thing to do, Lo’ak. S’annoying” you drunkenly mumble, trying to keep yourself from getting too dizzy.
“Well, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, his eyes trailing down to your lips as he gave into the temptation. “maybe it’s time I stop pushing you away then” he whispered, before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You smile against his lips, feeling your chest bubble with excitement as your dainty fingertips come to rest on his chest. 
You pulled back a little, a smile on your face as you leaned your forehead against his. “Am i making you feel better?” you ask, prompting him to let out a laugh. “that’s what you’re thinking about?” He teased, leaning in to give you another quick peck. “yeah, sweetness, you’re making me feel better” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his other hand burying itself in your curls as he deepened the kiss.
“you taste so god damn sweet, y/n” he groaned, his tongue licking its way into your mouth, practically moaning at the flavour of your lips. You whimpered at his words, desperately trying to keep up with him, shifting til you’re practically in his lap. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away and breaks the kiss, gazing down at you with pure lust and adoration in his golden eyes. “You ever let anyone touch you?” he breathed out, his hand holding you close by the back of your neck, your palms still resting on his chest for stability as you shook your head no. “Good” He grinned, his fangs on display as he reached up your back to untie the strings holding your top together.
As he revealed more of your skin, his touch became more possessive and hungry. “i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he growled against your skin, dipping his head down to lick and suck at your neck, tilting your jaw back with his hand to have better access. “you believe me?” 
“yes, Lo’ak” you breathed out, your skin feeling hot as you trailed a hand to fist his braided hair. “That’s my girl” he mumbled, his hand moving up to cup your breast, squeezing roughly at the flesh as you let out a whimper. “So fuckin perfect for me” 
You moaned softly at the praises, enjoying the feel of his hands on your body as you cup his face and bring his lips back up to yours, desperate to taste him again. He shoved his tongue in your mouth, his hand creeping down your back before untying the strings holding your loincloth together. “lift your hips for me, mama” he murmured against your lips, instantly taking it off and flinging it away once you did. He slowly slid his hand up your thigh, teasingly running his fingers through your folds before letting out a groan. “Eywa, you’re so wet for me”
you gasp softly at the feel of his fingers, leaning your forehead against his as he probed at your opening, before shoving two fingers in, drawing out a yelp from you. “Lo’ak!” you squeal, closing your eyes in pleasure. “fuck, do that again, sweet girl” he groaned, plunging his fingers in and out of you, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises.
you whined and clawed at his shoulders, not used to the feeling of someone else touching you there, soaking it all in as your walls fluttered against his digits. he curled his fingers inside you, watching you nearly unravel in front of him before adding his thumb to rub quick circles into your clit. “oh! Lo’ak! L-Lo! f-fuck!” he smirked as you cursed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He thrusted his fingers deeper, pushing faster, seeking out your sweet spot before massaging it with every thrust. You whimpered when you felt his fingertips grazing the spongy spot inside you. 
 “that’s it mama. gonna cum for me?” He sucked a bruise in your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he resisted the urge to properly mark you here and now. 
“y-yes! mhm!” You moaned, your pussy tightening around his fingers before you let go, crying out his name as you hide your face in his neck.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, shushing your whimpers before flipping you over, your bodies still dangerously close to the ledge, which suddenly just added to thrill of it for you. His breath was heavy as he leaned back down to kiss you, his arm resting on the ground beside your face, almost shielding you in while his other makes quick work to untie his cloth and throw is aside. You looked at him with a dazed expression, taking the time to admire his face and features, feeling your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours again. 
He smiled down at you, brushing his thumb over your lip sweetly, but it seemed like you had other ideas. Your pink tongue darted out to lick the digit and take it in your mouth, making his dick instantly harder, if that was even possible. He groaned at the feeling, beginning to grind his hips against yours, his cock freely gliding through your folds. “Fuck, mama, you’re making it hard to think straight” he cursed, looking down at your wet pussy dripping slick all over him. 
“Then don’t” You whined, squirming slightly beneath him from the teasing, feeling your arousal grow as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Lo’ak, please.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed sweet kisses along his face, a contrast to the sinful acts you were doing. 
Taking your pleas as a sign of consent, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly as he let out a growl at your tightness. “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. “fuck mama, you’re so tight. This pussy was made f’me” He pushed himself all the way in, lifting his head back up to look at your face, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. you had a look of pure bliss on your face, your eyes screwed shut as you adjust to his size, unintentionally holding your breath.
“breathe for me, baby. breathe” He whispered, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before he began to slowly rock his hips into yours. “Lo’ak” you whimpered, clawing at his shoulders. “I know. S’okay, i’ve got you.” he groaned, his voice low, making you feel more butterflies in your stomach as you listened to every word he spoke. “feels so good” you whine out, panting against his lips. He smiled at you, kissing you hotly before pulling away again, looking down to where you were connected.
He couldn’t help but moan at the sight, speeding up his thrusts as he rutted against you, watching your pussy clamp down on him. “Eywa, you’re such a sight” he grunted, looking up at your face as he pushed his cock deeper inside of you, watching your jaw drop out of pleasure. “gonna keep the mental image of you like this forever, princess. all fucked out like this, all ‘cause of me” He dipped his head back down to your neck, trailing kisses down your collarbones and lower, squeezing your breast with his hand while beginning to lap at it with his tongue.
you couldn’t respond, hardly thinking as he fucked every thought out of you, your back arching off the ground as you whined and moaned, clinging to him as he pounded into your pussy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he took clear control. “Taking it so well for me, sweet girl” 
He angled his hips in a way to hit your sweet spot again, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he moved to the other one, leaving light bite marks along it.
“L-Lo’ak, m’close” you whimper, your eyes still screwed shut as you feel his tongue licking and tracing at your breasts, your chest covered in bite marks. “yeah? let me feel it. cum f’me, cum all over me. be a good girl” he muttered the filth against your skin, trailing his tongue back up to your neck, his fangs grazing over it again as he planned out the spot to mark you. “wanna feel you shake against me, y/n. all around my dick. you won’t let me down, yeah?” He whispered in your ear, thrusting faster as he felt his abdomen tighten, knowing he was close but holding back til he got you there first.
“mm y-yes, yes Lo” you breathed out, whining and gasping as you felt your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around him before you reached your high, tightening your legs around his waist “ohhh fuuuuck!” you cry out, not caring about how loud you were being as he fucked you through it.
“shit! fuck, mama, where do you want it?” he strained, biting his bottom lip to try and hold back as his hips sputtered. you looked up at him, your lips swollen from his kisses and face slightly dewy as you open your mouth, indicating it for him. “Eywa, help me” he muttered, groaning at the implication as he traced your perfect lips with his finger before pressing a rough kiss to them. 
Once he was on the verge of climax, he quickly pulled out, cupping your face with a shaky hand as you sat up on your knees for him. He aligned his dick to rest on your lips as he pumped his cock, before throwing his head back and cumming in your mouth with a groan. His hand brushed through your hair, looking down at you before pulling his hips away from you and kneeling down with you, his free hand still cupping your cheek. He wiped the little dribble of his cum off your lip, smiling at you adoringly, whispering “so fucking pretty” before leaning in to kiss you again. 
you hum contently, smiling once he pulls away. you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, making him let out a laugh at your sweetness even after doing something so filthy. “c’mere” he murmurs, leaning back against the cliff wall as he raises his arm for you. you crawl over, laying down on his chest and nuzzling into him with your face in his neck, closing your eyes as you listen to the sound of the waves below you. 
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areyouwell · 6 months ago
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Sciophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of shadows. An adult or child with Sciophobia may experience extreme stress and anxiety in everyday life due to the nature of light and shadow.
Ch.2
Ch.1 <---
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: the most DISGUSTING, tooth-achingly sweet fluff, like candyfloss-style shit. i vomited twice writing it and once again proofreading it. they make pasta together for TWO THOUSAND WORDS so if that ain't yer thing im sorry the good stuff will start soon. and by that i mean body horror. i threw up writing that for a completely different reason...
Word count: 11k (strap in and strap on folks)
A/N: as mentioned in the warnings, this is almost pure fluff. sure there's MC rage so strong my timbers were shivered but other than that it's mostly fluff. i want you guys to know, i am setting us all up for failure, because this WILL get sad. but it'll get hot first, then downright filthy, the a little disgusting before it gets sad, we got a while to go so booties ch.2 LFG
Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit
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“Maybe just try… concentrating harder?” 
It took all of your willpower not to cross the few steps it would take to punch Scott’s lights out. Why the Professor assigned him to help with your training, you’d never know. Sure, it wasn’t like you were constantly at each other’s throats like he and Logan seemed to be, but you never exactly saw eye to eye either. Scott was too… neat, for you. He liked rules too much, always following what his head told him he should do, rather than following his heart or gut. It was infuriating on missions, and you’d had plenty of arguments about the correct course of action before he became the de facto leader whether you liked it or not. 
That was shortly before you went away, so you didn’t really have much time to experience the dictatorship of Scott Summers, and now you were back, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to. 
“Ya know what Scott? I’d never thought of doing that, thanks!” you bit sarcastically, sweat beading along your brow. You’d been at this for well over an hour now, hour two fast approaching with no progress. You’d successfully shadow-walked, though Cyclops noted your hesitation to do so. But could he blame you? The idea of shadow-walking and then suddenly not having the strength to pull yourself back together, or whatever it was you did, was quite frankly, terrifying. 
Scott sighed, placing a hand on his hip and running the other through his hair. “Alright, take ten, I’ll talk to the Professor.” He said, already making his way towards the iron doors. You let loose a frustrated breath, bracing your hands across the back of your neck. This was hopeless. Utterly hopeless. What’s worse, is that there was no proof you could actually do those things. No proof that was the Professor was saying was fucking true. 
You were glad the back wall was cast in shadow as you stormed across the floor, sending your fist careening into the metalwork, instantly regretting your outburst when the crack of your split knuckles rang out louder than the punch itself. Clamping your lips between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out, you let yourself breathe through the pain, savouring it just slightly. It was good. Pain was good. It reminded you how you weren’t just a pile of shadows wandering aimlessly through the air yet. You doubted you could feel a broken hand if you didn’t have a hand to feel with. 
Turning your back to the wall, you slid down to the floor, head buried between your knees with your arms casing you in, throbbing hand gripping your opposite shoulder tightly. You wouldn’t cry. You would. Not. Cry. That wasn’t you. You don’t cry. Since when did you cry?
This was how Logan found you. He’d been stuck in a meeting with Xavier and Storm all morning, going over the blueprints of the latest rescue mission the team would embark on. Though in all honesty, he was barely listening, his thoughts disobediently drifting back to you. The memory of your smile, the teasing lilt in your voice, the way your arms felt wrapped around his neck, the scent of your hair invading his heightened nose. He wondered how you were getting on with Scott, and he pitied the fact you were having to do this with Scott. That was until the man of the hour walked through the doors, disrupting the meeting and finally releasing him back into the world. 
It’s no wonder his feet led him straight to you, you’d been on his mind that much. So to see you like this, curled up against the opposite wall, your hand an angry red, it tugged at his heart. 
You didn’t seem to notice him as he crossed the room, only looking up when he kicked the gym mat with his foot. There was that smile again. The one that didn’t reach your eyes and only serve to fool people who were fucking idiots into thinking you were okay. 
The last person you expected to see walk through those doors was Logan. Last you’d heard, he was stuck in a meeting with Charles and Ororo. Scott was initially furious he’d been asked to help develop your mutation instead of intent ‘crucial strategy meetings’ so he called them, but he soon lightened up when you not-so-subtly reminded him it’s because Charles thought he was the best option to help you. 
You sighed heavily, bracing your good hand on your knee as you rose to your feet. For Logan to see you in such a sorry state wasn’t high on your list of priorities. You were pretty sure it wasn’t on that list at all. 
“Not goin’ well?” he asked softly, and you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from tearing up. You watched his eyes flicker from your face to your hand, thick brows pinching in concern. You followed his line of sight, not that you needed to, you could fucking feel your knuckles pulsing fire up your arm. 
“Uh, no, not really. I’d love to say I did this punching Scott, but he left before I could, so I took it out on the wall instead.” You half smiled, and Logan found himself blowing out a huff of laughter. Even in this state, in this mindset, you could still find humour. 
Sinking your hand into the shadows across the wall behind you, you felt the familiar tingle of, what you now know was your body breaking apart, before the slight itch of pulling it back together as you dragged it back out, good as new. 
Logan thought for a moment, hazel eyes flicking from you to the shadows behind you. “Have you tried–”
“If you’re about to say ‘concentrating harder’ I might have to hurt you.” You interrupted, much to his amusement.
“I’m assumin’ that’s what Scott said?”
“Word for fucking word,” you said with a slight lopsided smile. Now that one reached your eyes. 
Logan took a few steps forward, now borderline pinning you against the wall. If it wasn’t for his hearing, he would have missed the way your breath hitched slightly, the slight shudder in your exhale. He chalked it down to your apprehension toward your situation. He had to. Giving himself hope like that just led to a shit load of hurt.
“What I was goin’ to say, was have ya tried from in there?” he raised a brow, his eyes looking past you and at the wall behind, and you had to take a minute to remember what you were talking about, his proximity all but throwing all and any thought out the window. It was achingly familiar to yesterday in the kitchen.
“You might be onto something…” you breathed when you remembered how to form words. Now you were thinking about it, he could be right. Why on earth were you trying to call the shadows to you, when you could drag them out with you? However, the idea of once again disappearing into shadow didn’t fill you with the same sense of freedom it once did. 
And Logan could see it. The hesitation, apprehension. You’d told him you were scared last night, but this was the first time he’d seen it. “I’ll be right here, yeah?” Fuck the way you looked at him shattered his heart. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to have the same sense of wonder you always did when it came to your mutation. He looked at the clench of your jaw, the flare of your nostrils as you nodded. 
“Alright… don’t go anywhere.” you half-joked, sliding your hands down the cool wall behind you, feeling your skin tingle at the mere idea of disappearing into the darkness. 
“Where would I go? You’re right here.” Logan responded, placing his index finger on the centre of your forehead and pushing ever so slightly. It gave you enough courage to fall back into the darkness, feeling the release of those threads holding your corporeal body together. 
Logan wasn’t really sure why he said that and he hoped to fuck you were too nervous about this whole thing to actually register what he’d said. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he watched you fold into the shadow, taking a few steps back and looking at his watch. Any longer than three minutes and he’ll start to think this was a really bad idea. Though, he probably should have told you that before you disappeared. 
Fuck.
It was always a strange sensation. Your consciousness was still intact, but the rest of your body had disappeared, scattered into a million different pieces. Probably billions. You couldn’t see, but you didn’t need to. You could sense. Sense the layout of the room. Sense where the shadows begin and where they end. Everything became nothing, and it was freedom. Quieting your thoughts, you concentrated. Concentrated on pulling. It was the same itching sensation you felt when leaving the shadows, except you tried to ground yourself.
Ground yourself in a place that had literally no ground.
This was fucking impossible.
You felt yourself slipping, the shadows around you not knowing what it was you were asking. Did the shadows have consciousness too? You didn’t know. Who fucking knew? And you didn’t fucking care. You tried to concentrate again, pulling against those threads you used to bring yourself from one place to the other toward you.
And only succeeding in moving again. Walking. This was no fucking different to what you’ve always done. Just moving from one point to the next. You’d already fucking mastered that. 
But at least one good thing had come from this. You weren’t afraid anymore. 
You were fucking angry.
Your consciousness writhed like a ball of angry vipers, pulling at all and any threads you could sense around you, flicking from one place to another with no rhyme or reason, no direction. 
If you could scream, you would have done. If you could lash out, you would have done. Rage rippled through your senses, those threads around you thrashing and flailing. Useless. Fucking useless. Maybe this was the fate you deserved. Disappearing into nothing, being nothing. Maybe you did deserve it. 
But you wouldn’t fucking accept it. Not yet.
This is “–fucking POINTLESS!” you roared, stepping from the shadow, your body itching all over, buzzing with adrenaline, your back almost burning. Your eyes took time to adjust to the light again, but you were too furious to register anything. “What’s the fucking point? Nothing works! I can’t pull them toward me, I can’t pull them with me, this is fucking stupid!” you continued your tirade, almost feeling the physical weight of your failure heavy upon your shoulders. “I can’t fucking do it, so why bother trying? It’s been a day and I’m already sick of this shit!” you heaved, breath searing your newly formed lungs, sending shockwaves of fire through your shoulder blades. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been this angry. “If this stupid fucking mutation doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself I swear to fucking god and what the FUCK are you smiling at Logan?!” You bellowed, your eyes finally registering what they were seeing. 
Logan had probably the world’s most gorgeous smile, and you wished you weren’t too pissed off to appreciate it. But before he had time to answer, Scott and Charles entered the room, Scott dropped a mug of what looked like freshly brewed coffee straight onto the floor, the shattering of the ceramic lingering in the air as the room fell deadly silent. 
“What?” you asked, now slightly fearful as the three men peered at you, each with a different expression. Scott seemed utterly horrified, his jaw slack and agape. Charles looked almost smug, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. And Logan?
Logan just grinned at you, arms folded across his chest. “You did it,” he whispered, nodding to what you thought was the wall behind you. Your eyes lingered on his as you turned your head, finally looking at what everyone else in the room seemed to be seeing. 
Honestly, you were fucking shocked you didn’t notice. At least now the burning in your shoulder blades had an explanation. 
Two broad, rippling wings of pure shadow spread wide from your back, the darkness almost pulsing along with your rapid heartbeat. It felt good, and you noted the lack of pressure about your body. Those threads that seemed constantly under strain had loosened, seemingly constantly fed by the shadows at your back. 
You slowly pulled at the strings, watching the wings move and shift with your intentions. Your fury dissolved as you watched in complete awe, along with the three others in the room. They folded close to your back and you felt the buzzing of energy against your leg, before you extended them again to their full size, tips grazing either side of the room. 
“Wh… H-how?” Scott managed to stutter, taking a cautious step forward. You looked from your shadows to Cyclops. 
“It, uh, it was Logan’s idea. Pull them out with me rather than trying to pull them towards me…” you were still reeling, slowly extending your fingers before trying to move the rest of your body. You didn’t know how much concentration it was taking to keep them intact, and you were a little afraid of letting them slip. Your breath came heavy as if you’d run around the estate at least four times. 
Logan looked back at Scott, unable to help his ‘fuck you’ brow raise. And to his satisfaction, Scott clicked his tongue in irritation. He turned back to you when he heard your slight laugh, clearly having noticed the silent exchange between them.
“How did you even know about this?” Scott asked accusingly.
“She told me.” Logan retorted as if it was the most obvious response on the planet. Scott just stood there in shock.
“She… she told you? She told you. As in, the one over there?” Cyclops pointed at you and you flipped him off in return.
“Yeah? Who else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?”
“It’s just, she doesn’t tend to… do that,”
“She is right fucking here!” you held your arms up, gesturing to yourself in a way that thankfully returned the boys’ attention back to the situation at hand. 
“Yeah well, this is all well and good,” Scott continued, crouching now to pick up the larger pieces of the shattered mug, “but how do you release them?” he finished. 
He had a point. You couldn’t wander around the school with two giant wings stuck to your back, as much as you wanted to. How would you get through the doorways? Xavier wheeled forward until he was next to Logan, his face now much more serious.
“Carefully. Release it too quickly and the threads could go with them,”
“Wouldn’t that just mean she would be back in the shadow?” Logan asked, slight concern lacing his baritone voice. There was a catch here, and every single one of you knew it. 
“Ordinarily yes, however, she cannot disappear into her own shadow. If she releases those threads anywhere other than back to its original form, there’s a risk of her disappearing with it and getting stuck,” He explained, to nobody’s understanding. You knew you couldn’t disappear into your own shadow, you’d tried before and your body simply wouldn’t let you. 
“So wait… I can pull the shadow with me but have to return it to where it was, essentially?” you asked, slowly so that your question could be understood, even by yourself. Charles nodded, and you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. 
Logan couldn’t help but feel partly to blame for this. He’d encouraged you to take this step, to try alternate methods of developing your mutation, and now he had, you were stuck like this until you felt sure you could release it carefully. Shit.
‘She made it this far because of you. We have a chance at changing her fate because of you, Logan. You cannot regret that.’ It was always jarring when the Professor found his way into his head, and it wasn’t the least bit soothing. What did ease him a little, however, was your slight reassuring smile, renewed with confidence. 
You could see he was battling with guilt, terrified that he may have endangered you. But you could do this. You’d already managed to achieve something you never thought you could today, what’s one more miracle?
“Hooookay, let’s try this… carefully, right?” it was a rhetorical question because honestly? You were a little scared, and stalling seemed to give you time to collect your thoughts and calm your slightly stuttering heart.
“Carefully,” Charles instructed, and you nodded once before taking another deep breath. Holding it for a few moments, you tightened the threads you hoped to fuck were holding you together, keeping them in place before blowing out the breath, releasing your connection to the wings behind your back. You felt them bleed down your shoulders, shivering slightly as the shadows snaked down your legs and back against the wall behind you, returning to their original state. 
You’d closed your eyes at some point, honestly, you couldn’t remember when. You were scared to open them, scared to see if you’d fucked anything up, if parts of your body were just completely shadow, or whether you had accidentally grown multiple limbs or something. You knew your mind was running away from you, but you couldn’t help it, as ridiculous as it felt.
Logan smiled slightly to himself as he watched the shadows wash away and return to the wall, and that inward smile broadened when he noticed you weren’t moving, eyes clenched shut, your hands balled into fists, your shoulders tensed and hunched. He stepped forward and up to you, gently bracing his hands on either side of your neck, thumbs angling your jaw up a little. Your soft gasp didn’t escape his ears.
“Y’alright?” He asked, eyes searching your face before finding your own gaze, your lids having fluttered open. You visibly relaxed, one hand that was previously balled into a tight fist now gently sliding up his wrist, resting atop his forearm. Your touch was electric, fingertips sending shivers down his spine. 
“Fine, I think,” you responded, gliding your nails through the hair on his arm. It was an absent response to his touch. You wanted to be closer to him, to bury your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his pinewood scent. His breath was a mix of mint and tobacco, and you wondered if his lips had a permanent hint of whiskey if you were to taste them, having been told by a grumbling Jean that was who the hidden, half-empty bottle in the cupboard belonged to.
You instantly mourned the loss of his touch when he stepped back, though you were grateful he did. You’d been dangerously close to kissing him, and whilst you still wanted to, perhaps not without an audience of Charles and Scott.
“How are you feeling?” You blinked when the Professor addressed you directly, having forgotten what living in reality was like for a few moments. Nodding along with an answer you hadn’t voiced yet, you grinned along with a deep, contorting rumble of your stomach.
“Apparently, starving.” A chuckle escaped your lips and you braced a hand against your stomach in an attempt to soothe away the uncomfortable feeling of hunger. 
“I think that’s enough for today. Logan, could you take this one to the kitchen? Make sure she’s fed.” There was a knowing look in Professor Xavier’s eye that Logan wasn’t sure he liked. Sure, he may have just lovingly held your face whilst bringing you back from the brink of terror, but that didn’t mean there was anything going on between the two of you. You met yesterday!
“Sure.” he shrugged, trying his damnest to sound nonchalant about it. You stretched your arms up above your head, popping your elbows slightly as you followed Logan from the room, feeling a thousand times lighter than you did when you entered two hours ago. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you’d succeeded. 
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The doors closed behind you with a soft swish, and you paused to appreciate the man walking ahead of you. You’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and yet you’d tear the fabric of the universe apart to ensure his safety. You knew almost nothing about him, and yet you felt the strangest pull towards him, a yearning to be around him, to be near him. It was infuriating, but so fucking exciting at the same time. Could this maybe be something? Did he feel this weird connection too? Or was it just your delusions working overtime? Honestly, hard to say.
“Take a picture, it’d last longer.”
You snapped from your daze to notice he’d turned back to you, realising you weren’t following him. Flashing him a broad smile, refusing to feel any kind of embarrassment that he’d caught you practically staring at him, you jogged a little to catch up, effortlessly falling into step beside him.
“Wanted to thank you,” you looked up at him through the corner of your eye, catching his own gaze. 
“What for?”
“Everything. Logan, I’ve known you for less than a full day and you’ve already helped me more than people I’ve known practically my whole life. The Professor excluded. So yeah, thanks.” You shrugged, hitting the button on the lift to take you both back up to the ground floor. The doors closed and you leaned against the back wall, crossing one ankle over the other. 
“You need better friends if you’re thankin’ me for anythin’. Wouldn’t anyone else do the same?” he asked, mirroring your stance against the adjacent wall, folding his arms across his chest. You snorted a laugh, and he found himself smiling at you.
“Yeah, friends would, but like I said, we haven’t even known each other a full twenty-four hours yet.”
Logan cocked a brow, his smile morphing back to a small smirk. “Well pardon me, princess, I thought we were friends.” 
You rolled your eyes, and Logan had a horrendous feeling he’d misread the entire situation between you. “I mean like, lifelong friends, asshole. People I’ve known ever since I can remember. Not people I met yesterday,” you finished, gently kicking his foot with your own. Logan straightened up as the lift slowed to reach the ground floor, softly flicking your forehead in response to your kick, causing you to bat his hand away.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? You made an impact,” he shrugged, and you grinned.
“Oh yeah?”
“Don’t let it get to your head, bub. I’m just sayin’ you show up after not existin’ and immediately cause trouble.” he watched your expression shift from mischievous to a sheepish pout, unable to beat the trouble-maker allegations. He sighed slightly. “But hey, maybe I like trouble.” The doors opened for the both of you to leave, Logan being the first to make his exit. Though, you stayed behind for a beat.
“Or maybe trouble just likes you,” you retorted with that same lopsided smile he’d come to admire so much, before pushing back against the wall to join him. 
“Yeah well, ‘m’not mad about it either way,” he mumbled, and you thought better about teasing him for it. You imagined this was about as close as he was gonna get to voicing genuine care for you, so you let it drop, simply humming a thoughtful smile in response. 
You don’t know why you were expecting the kitchen to have a few people in it, since classes were currently going on. Maybe it was due to the fact you hadn’t exactly settled back into the life of a teacher yet. Not that you were a teacher anymore, the man currently rifling through the snacks cupboard had seen to that. You found, with no small degree of surprise, that you missed it. You missed teaching combat and strategy, you missed taking the kids through training drills and exercise routines. You missed helping them hone their mutations, with Jean’s help, or Ororo’s help. Sure, the worry of them getting hurt always used to play on your mind, but now you were back, you realised that the worry was worth the fulfilment. 
Taking a seat at the table, you propped your chin up on the heel of your palm, watching as Logan crouched to one of the cupboards below the counter. You didn’t pretend like you weren’t enjoying the view. He really did look fantastic for one hundred and thirty. In peak physical condition.
“I’d say take a picture again but I’d really rather you didn’t,” you were too focused shamelessly staring at his ass you hadn’t noticed he was peering at you over his shoulder with a not-so-subtle smirk. You flashed one right back.
You were coming to like that phrase. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” you retorted, wiggling your brows up and down. Logan snorted a laugh. 
“You flirt with everyone like this?”
You shook your head, moving to rest your chin on top of your now interlaced fingers. “Nah, only with the ones over ninety. I have a thing for older men,” you winked and he rolled his eyes.
“Stop,” but judging from his expression, Logan was finding this just as amusing as you were. But as much as you wanted to continue, your curiosity got the better of you.
“What’re you looking for?” you asked, standing from your seat at the table and skirting around the wood to sit on the edge closer to him, peering down over his shoulder. 
“There used to be a packet of insta-noodles in here somewhere but I think one of the kids got to it first,” he explained, and you gasped dramatically, to the point where he actually looked a little concerned over his shoulder. “What?”
“Insta-noodles? My brother in Christ, please tell me you were not about to give me instant fucking noodles?” you felt something in you die at the thought, and something else died at his affirming nod.
“Yeah, what's wrong with that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed by your reaction. It was just noodles for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like he’d just offered to kick a baby. He blinked at your barked laugh of disbelief, watching as you hopped off the table and shooed him aside.
“Step back fossil–”
“Hey!”
“and let me do this. We’re going to actually have food. Like, real food. Take a seat or watch and learn.” You shot him a look over your shoulder, before gathering whatever ingredients you needed. Logan dragged one of the chairs back from the table, taking a seat to watch whatever it was you were about to make. 
You started by dicing an onion, a pan with oil already heating up on the gas stove, and it took all of three minutes for Logan to be impressed by your knife skills. You almost wielded the thing like a dagger, flipping it this way and that, before scooping half the pile of onion and dropping it into a plastic bowl. The other half you scraped into the pan, and Logan couldn’t help but savour the sound of the sizzle and the smell of food. Suddenly, he too was starving.
You crossed to the fridge, rummaging around the bottom shelf before pulling out a tub of minced beef, and a packet of mushrooms. Closing the door with your hip, you lay the ingredients out on the counter, pulling open the cupboard above your head to retrieve a box of breadcrumbs and a carton of eggs. Though he saw you pause briefly, turning your head back to him.
“You’re not vegetarian or vegan, right? Probably should have asked yesterday,” your question made him laugh, and you tilted your head to the side. “What?”
“Do I look vegan to you?”
You stuck your tongue in your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. No, no he didn’t. But at the same time, you’d made a similar mistake in the past. And it still haunts you to this day.
“Just answer the question, Lo’” you grit, placing a hand on your hip. Logan blinked, trying his best to get past the nickname you’d just given him. Usually, nicknames were his thing, having about a million different ones for a million different circumstances. He barely managed to shake his head, earning himself a smile of gratitude from you, before you turned back to your task at hand and he could settle himself with his brow pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
You crouched again, rifling through the cupboard with cans. Pushing a stack of soup to the side, you froze solid, your eyes blowing wide as your hand shook at what you saw. Another mug, though someone had gone to great lengths to hide this one. Your fingertips grazed the faded image, a photograph of a younger-looking you and a girl with fair features, her braids tied back at the top of her head. Her smile was brilliant. Dazzling. It took you a moment to will your blurring vision away, before inhaling deeply and bringing out the chopped tomatoes you’d been looking for, setting it to the side. Taking a moment to push her from your mind whilst stirring the slowly browning onions, you then cross to fill the kettle, flicking the switch to start boiling. Logan blew out a breath, having recovered from his heart stuttering and finally went back to watching you cook. 
It was calming, almost hypnotic, the way you moved about the kitchen. Folding the onions in with the beef mince, breadcrumbs and two eggs. Only, it just occurred to him he had no fucking clue what you were making. Standing from his seat, he moved over to lean his shoulder against the fridge door, now having a clear line of sight to watch what you were doing.
“What’re you making?” he asked, smiling slightly as you startled. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just honestly didn’t realise how deep into the process you were. 
“Meatball Marinara,” you answered, your fingers incorporating the ingredients in the bowl until you were left with a sticky, meaty lump you could form balls out of. 
“From scratch?” he asked, eyes slightly wide. You’d spoken at length about your cooking last night, and how you’d learned, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he didn’t quite realise how impressive it was until he was here, watching you. 
He swore, your smile could start and end wars.
“It’s pretty quick and easy, to be honest,” you explained, eyes never leaving your task despite feeling his own trained on you. You grabbed the salt from the spice rack, twisting the grinder a few times until you felt it was right. That was what a lot of cooking was for you. Just feeling. When you felt something was done, you’d take it from the oven. When you felt something needed a little more seasoning, you’d sprinkle some paprika in for an extra kick. Nothing was ever done by the book. 
It’s mainly why you didn’t exactly get on with Scott.
“Huh…” Logan responded, watching how you’d started to take small portions of the beef and roll it into little balls, placing them onto a separate plate. 
“Could you give the onions a quick stir? ‘ve got meat hands,” you wiggled your slightly shining fingers in his face, and he jerked back, much to your amusement. Logan fought the urge to flick your forehead again, settling on ignoring your evil little laugh and instead focussing on his critical mission of stirring onions. 
“D’ya cook like this when you were away?” he asked, finding an insane amount of domestic comfort in cooking with you. He saw you shake your head out of his peripheral vision. 
“Nah, didn’t have time, plus I was moving around a lot. Usually, it was quicker and easier things than this,”
“Like insta-noodles?”
You could fucking hear his smirk, and you managed to stop yourself from cracking an egg over his head. “No. Never insta-noodles. Ever.”
You’d finished making little meatballs and had started splitting apart a bulb of garlic, crushing the cloves beneath your knife before peeling off the skin and dicing them before dropping them into the pan he was still stirring. His eyes closed involuntarily as you leaned across him, once again your scent hitting him like a freight train, only this time your shampoo had blended with the sweet, slightly musky smell of your sweat. It was enough to drive him fucking feral. 
“Keep stirring that, or it’ll stick to the bottom and burn,” you instructed absently, halfway through chopping up a few mushrooms before leaning across him again to drop them into the pan as well. Logan held the spoon like it was his lifeline, knuckles draining white as you moved around him to retrieve another pan.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded, and you snorted another laugh. He really had to pull himself together. 
You poured the boiled water from the kettle into the new pan, lighting the burner and setting it on a high heat, bringing the water roiling before grinding salt for what Logan felt was far too long. He wondered vaguely if you had high sodium levels, or how your blood pressure was. You waited again for the water to come back to a boil, before placing a sizeable amount of spaghetti into the pan, putting slight pressure on the tips so the ends would soften and bend faster in the water. 
Placing the lid over the pan, you went to check your watch. Your watch that you weren’t wearing. Fucking goddamnit. You looked around for a clock, before noticing Logan’s wrist. 
Logan’s soul nearly left his body at the way you grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist to make a note of the time. You weren’t exactly rough, but it was assertive enough for him to think twice about the kinds of things he was into…
Wait, what the fuck was he talking about?
“You could’ve just asked the time,” he muttered, tugging his wrist back almost possesively. 
“Hm?” you blinked. In truth, you’d been utterly lost in how good this felt. How right it felt to just do average, mundane tasks with him. “Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Could you tell me when ten minutes have passed?” you asked, almost instantly busying yourself again by carefully dropping the meatballs into the pan he was stirring. “Gotta brown off the meat first…” you instructed softly, almost absently. But he listened, slowing his movements. Your resulting smile was radiant. “Hey, you’re a natural!”
Logan raised a brow. “I’m stirring a pan, bub. Not exactly gourmet style.” You laughed, gently hitting his bicep with the back of your hand, only to stop in your tracks, shaking your knuckles out. 
“Ow! I thought you said your bones were made of adamantium,” you exclaimed, rubbing over the back of your hand with your other palm. In truth, it didn’t really hurt, but you just wanted to make a point because nobody has the right to be this built. It was insane.
Logan bit his tongue to stop from smiling, his eyes sliding from that pan to you. “Just the result of a good workout regime,” he shrugged as if it were nothing special. In reality, he knew he looked good. He put a lot of work into his physique, and whilst his mutation did help with that, it was still nice to be complimented on it once in a while. 
“Huh… you don’t say,” you responded, cracking open the can of tomatoes once the meatballs had browned to your satisfaction. The metal sizzled slightly as you poured in the sauce, setting the can to the side and retrieving a few basil leaves from the window box on the opposite side of the room. Logan hadn’t noticed it before, remarkably, and though having no experience with plants in recent history, something told him he wouldn’t have too much trouble identifying what they were.
It was a weird feeling. Remembering something he didn’t actually remember. Though it had been the story of his life for the last few years. 
You dropped the leaves into the sauce, leaving him to stir the pot whilst you brought out two sets of plates and cutlery and set them on the counter, angling your head so you could catch sight of the time from the watch on his wrist. He would have just told you if he didn’t think you were deriving some kind of joy from attempting to read his watch sideways.
Removing the lid from the pan, you scooped up a single piece of spaghetti, blowing away the steam before dropping it into your hand when you thought it was cool enough. You shot him a quick look Logan could only describe as pure mischief, before throwing the spaghetti against the backsplash of the stove. He watched as the pasta hit the wall with a sick squelch, before sliding down the tiles. 
He looked back at you, and you almost instantly burst into fits of laughter. “The fuck was that for?” he asked, his brows furrowed in perplexion. 
You managed to recover from laughing, though hiccuped through a few giggles. “You can tell whether spaghetti’s done by throwing it at the wall. If it sticks, it’s raw, if it slides, it’s done,” you exclaimed, tilting your head to get another look at the time, noting that those ten minutes were up.
“Really?” 
“Nah, that’s an old wive’s tale. Honestly, it’s just kinda fun to pelt spaghetti at a wall and call it ‘cooking’.” You sent him a wink, and Logan shook his head in fond disbelief. He felt like he’d seen so many sides to you in the last twenty-four hours alone. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see more. He wanted to see how many sides to you there were, and whether he would like them all as much as he liked the ones he’s already seen. Your fury included.
“Your ten minutes it up, by the way,” he reminded you, and though he had a feeling you already knew, you nodded in thanks anyway, removing the boiling pan from the stove and flicking off the burner, the blue gas flames retreated to nothing. Skirting around him to the sink, you tipped out the water, using the lid of the pan to stop the rest of the spaghetti from falling with it. You shook the pan slightly, shaking out any pieces that had stuck together, before setting about separating the contents into two portions, one slightly bigger than the other. 
“How’s it looking?” you asked, leaning back to take a look at the sauce. If Logan had to grit his teeth after smelling your scent one more time his jaw would fucking snap. You really weren’t making this easy on him, were you? Part of him wondered if you were doing it deliberately, but there was no way of you knowing about his heightened senses. Unless you’d asked around, which, with everything you’ve had going on since you got back, he sincerely doubted. 
“Looks good to me, but I’m not the expert here,” he handed you the spoon, stepping to the side for you to take over. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, and he tried his fucking best to ignore the slight buzz you’d left. 
Lifting the spoon to your lips, you sampled what you’d been slaving over for the last twenty minutes, smiling slightly as the sweet, tarty flavours burst on your tongue. It was a new sensation for Logan to wish he was a spoon, but here he was. 
“Perfect!” you beamed, dipping the spoon back in the sauce and turning to him, your palm cupped beneath the wood to prevent anything from spilling onto the floor. “Wanna try it?”
Logan shrugged, stepping forward and allowing you to bring the spoon to his lips. Your eyes never left his, the tips of your fingers grazing the coarse stubble beneath his chin, but you didn’t move away. He struggled to focus on anything other than how close you were to him, the feeling of your fingers on his jaw, your breath fanning the lower half of his face. Your hopeful eyes waiting eagerly for his verdict, searching his expression for any kind of clue. And he was suddenly afraid of what you’d find there. 
Stepping back, he pretended like he was savouring what you’d fed him, and whilst it was fucking delicious, it didn’t compare to how he imagined your lips tasting. Or anything else, for that matter. 
“‘S’really good,” he managed, and you immediately looked as if you weren’t waiting with bated breath for his approval.
“Isn’t it? Fuck I’m good,” your laugh was more akin to an evil mastermind than someone who’d just made meatballs, but Logan would be hard-pressed to find another time in his life when he felt this at peace with the world. At least, not in the life he could remember. “Sit, I’ll bring it over,” you instructed, removing a larger, metal spoon from the drawer, which he took off you the moment he could.
“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way ‘round, bub. You cooked,” he glanced pointedly to the seat you’d just gestured to. But clearly, you were, amongst many other things, incredibly stubborn. 
“Not sure how you worked that one out, you cooked too,” you folded your arms across your chest, setting your jaw. 
“Yeah, barely. Sit your ass down,” he pointed to the chair with the spoon in his hand, but you still refused, now leaning against the counter as if you could get any further away from the table. Logan sighed heavily, placing the spoon down again. “Didn’t wanna have to do this…” he muttered, and you didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant by this before his arms were around your waist and you were lifted effortlessly off the ground. 
All breath fled from your lungs. Your hands instantly fell to his shoulders, nails clinging on for dear life as he carried you to that godforsaken chair. His grip around your body tightened as you attempted to wriggle free from his arms, laughing breathlessly, exhilaration coursing through your body. Only, the moment he tried to set you down, you did a complete 180 and wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.
“Let go,” his words were muffled against your neck as he bent almost double, and you leaned back until you were practically hovering above the chair.
“Seemed like a good idea a minute ago, huh?” You arched a cocky brow and were met with an expression mirroring your own. 
“So you gonna cling to me forever? That your genius plan?”
“If that's what it takes,” 
“Let go,” the way he said your name almost had you falling to the floor, your muscles suddenly growing weak. But you stayed strong, out of nothing but principal at this point. He wasn’t even holding you anymore, you were clinging on through sheer willpower alone. For the sake of being stubborn.
“You made this bed, now lie in it,” you responded haughtily, refusing to look into his irritated façade.
“That doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” he growled, and you fucking melted. That wasn’t fucking fair, and judging by the steadily growing smirk, he knew it. His hands gripped both your calves, successfully peeling you from his waist whilst you were distracted. You had no choice but to let your legs fall to the floor, catching yourself on the chair behind you, much to his triumphant grin. 
“You cheated!” you gaped, sitting cross-legged on the seat. Logan barely looked over his shoulder as he started spooning the sauce onto the two piles of pasta. All that over fucking spaghetti. And you didn’t even regret it a little.
“How’d I cheat?” he asked, though you were aware he knew full well how. And you were right. He did know. Of course he knew. He’d used that specific voice countless times before. Usually under very different circumstances. He just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say how it affected you. 
But, true to form, you were stubborn.
“You’re stronger than I am,” you sighed, glaring heated daggers into the back of his head. You wanted to be petty, to stand up and take the spoon from him again, but in all honesty, you don’t think you’d survive another round of ‘sit on the fucking chair’.
Logan looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes swirling with knowing, and you stuck your tongue in your cheek and looked away, not giving him any satisfaction of confirming what he was thinking. You’d been so caught up in avoiding eye contact, that you almost jumped when he set the plate down in front of you, setting his own at the opposite place. At least he’d had the sense to realise the large portion was for him. Credit where credit was due, you guessed.
A comfortable silence blanketed the kitchen as he took a seat, two glasses of water in his hands, and you smiled a thank you. If you had your brother to thank for anything, it was teaching you how to cook. Well, it was many more things than that, but at this moment, it was cooking lessons. He didn’t want you going into the world with the culinary skills of a carrot. His words, not yours. 
You had a feeling Logan was a hard man to impress, so listening to his small grunt of appreciation was music to your ears. “Told ya I was a good chef,” you beamed after swallowing a mouthful and taking a large sip of water. 
Logan nodded in agreement. It wasn’t like he could disagree, the proof was right there, in front of him, in his fucking mouth for fuck’s sake. And the peace pesto from last night. Though he was glad his metabolism was fast. Pasta two days in a row can’t be good for anyone. “Never said you weren’t,” your expression fell from pride to scowling in seconds, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a fantastic chef.”
Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any hint of dishonesty, but you came up short. Though he said it as if to placate you, something told you he really meant it. You were just playing around, in all honesty, teasing in order to forget what just happened between you, and you’d gotten so much more than you bargained for. 
Much like the other night, you both fell into comfortable, mundane conversation, finding refuge in how fucking normal everything felt right now. You laughed and smiled as if the threat of disappearing into nothing didn’t constantly hang above your head, and he teased and joked as if the weight of his forgotten life didn’t constantly burden his shoulders. You could get used to this. Dangerously used to this. 
Logan was completely enamoured by you, once again finding himself encapsulated by the way you talk, from moments where you get really into whatever story you’re telling, to quieter moments when you let the conversation settle. If he was to die tomorrow, unlikely but worth entertaining from time to time, it was moments like these he was sure would flash through his mind. 
“What about you? I’ve talked your ear off about my life but you never talk about yours. Though, I guess there’s a lot to talk about,” you mused thoughtfully, twisting your fork through your spaghetti, or whatever was left of it. Logan grunted, shifting in his seat to lean against the back of the chair.
“It’s not a happy story,” he admitted quietly, buying himself some time by taking a long glass of water. Your gentle eyes found his, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.
“I’m not looking for a fairytale. Just who you are,” you fought the urge to reach across the table and slip your hand into his. Though you didn’t want to push him to divulge anything, you just didn’t wanna feel like the whole conversation was one-sided. Sure, he would chime in with a few anecdotes but mainly it was just asking you questions. 
If he was being honest with himself, Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you anything about his past. He knew you wouldn’t judge, clearly having seen a fair amount of bullshit yourself, and the fact that it simply wasn’t who you were. No, his problem lay with the fact that he didn’t want to dampen your spirit with his sob story of a past. How he only remembers through thrashing nightmares, waking up soaked in sweat, heart racing. You didn’t need to know any of that. 
“Alright… I–” he began before quite literally being saved by the bell. Logan looked at his watch, brows raising at how easily time had once again run away with the two of you. You blinked, looking around as if you could find the bell and ask it personally why it was going off so early before the echoing of ongoing conversation shattered the domestic delusion you’d both managed to trick yourselves into feeling.
“Another time,” you stood from the table, leaning over to grab his plate, but he swatted your hand away and instead took your own. 
“Never learn, do ya?” he asked with a slight smile, and you rolled your eyes. With a heavy, defeated sigh, you conceded, simply allowing him to take your plate to the sink. Stretching your arms high above your head, you popped your stiff shoulders, turning your head as two students you knew well entered the kitchen.
“You made meatballs?! No fair, I wanted some!” Jubilee whined, her books still clasped against her chest. Artie stuck out his forked tongue, much like a snake would taste the air around it before his curious face morphed into a frown. It seemed he too wouldn’t have minded meatballs. 
Logan looked over his shoulder at the two newcomers, his eyes darting between you and them, your guilt written all over your face.
“I’ll make them for you again sometime soon. We could have one of those big dinners we used to do, remember those?” you asked, your eyes alight with hope. Logan had heard of those. Apparently, you used to cook for the whole mansion, and the students would drag tables and chairs from all different rooms and have a huge feast together. Of course, he didn’t believe a word anybody said about it, since he was convinced you were a figment of everyone’s collective imagination, but now he knew you very much did exist, he could envision you dancing around the kitchen for hours on end, preparing dish after dish.
Jubilee’s face lit up at the suggestion, her hand hitting Artie’s arm excitedly. “Seriously? You mean that? We’ve missed doing that so much. Nobody cooks the way you do!” She bounced on her toes, before whirling and darting from the room, most likely to tell the rest of her friends. Artie lingered for a few seconds, clearly not knowing whether he wanted to stay or to race after Jubilee, before he too turned on his heel and ran after her. You chuckled softly, running a hand through your hair.
“What’ve I gotten myself into…?” you muttered, startling slightly as a hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up at Logan, unable to accurately decipher his expression. All you knew was that it was soft. Softer than you’d seen in the last day or so. 
“Were y’always this good with em? The kids?” he asked, and you huffed a laugh. You wished you could say yes, absolutely, you’d always been naturally gifted at looking after children. But that wasn’t the truth. 
“Fuck no. Used to hate kids, to be honest with you. Thought they were annoying as fuck when I first started,” you admitted slightly sheepishly. “But, they grew on me. Still not a fan of like, other kids, but any who come to this school? Love ‘em.” 
“Makes me wonder why they sent you ‘round America and not someone more suited.” his eyes glinted with mischief and you lightly elbowed his ribs.
“I can be incredibly persuasive.” 
“That so?”
“Mmmhm,” you nodded emphatically, stepping out of his range and immediately missing the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left it there until you moved away and hopped onto the table, your feet dangling slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off you, scanning your face as though he was considering you. You cocked a brow. “What?”
“Teach with me.”
You blinked. Well, you weren’t expecting that. “Come again?”
“Teach with me,” he repeated as confidently as he’d said it the first time. You scoffed a laugh. 
“What? Why?”
Logan shrugged. “You’re better with the kids than I am, and it would give you a good opportunity to develop your mutation in a combat setting.” And I get to spend more time with you.
You hesitated. “I– I don’t know, Logan. It’s… I don’t think it’s a good idea,” While you wanted nothing more than yet another excuse to be around him, you didn’t know if getting back into teaching was the right thing for you at the moment. Yeah, you missed it. Fuck, you missed it more than you thought you would, but you really meant it when you said you weren’t cut out for it. If only you weren’t the only person who thought so. 
“One class.” he bargained. “Help me with one class tomorrow and decide from there.”
You pursed your lips, and Logan could almost hear your internal debate. “You’re not gonna let it go til I do it, are you?”
“Probably not,” he smirked, knowing he’d just got you to agree. Your resulting sigh confirmed it. 
“Fine. One class. No more than that.” In all honesty, you would have agreed just to see his resulting smile. 
“We’ll see about that bub, class starts at one tomorrow.” 
You nodded once, nerves suddenly bubbling in your gut. You were going to teach again, after being out the game for the last two years. Fucking hell you wanted to throw up. But you took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Maybe this was a good thing. A blessing in disguise. Sure, it had been a while, but maybe Logan was right. Maybe your mutation would only develop under times of stress. You were incredibly stressed today, and look what happened. 
“Alright, I’ll talk to Charles and Scott, see what they say,”
Logan huffed, clearly irate with the idea. “Don’t give a shit what Scott says. He couldn’t help you after almost two hours. I was there for two minutes and you made progress,” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Was he… was he jealous? No, that wasn’t possible. What would he have to be jealous about?
“Alright tough guy, rein it in. The way you helped out earlier, it wouldn’t surprise me if Charles is telling him you should be taking over my training,” you hadn’t even thought about it before you said it, but now it was out your mouth, you realised it was entirely plausible. Especially since anyone with eyes or ears could see how much better you got on with Logan than you did Scott. Logan suggested one approach and it worked like a charm.
“Ya think so?” Fuck was the hope in his voice as obvious to you as it was to him? The idea of helping you with your mutation, whilst slightly terrifying, excited him. He couldn’t help but think that would be a learning experience for both of you.
“Yeah, why not? Like you said, Scott couldn’t help after two hours,” you shrugged, hopping off the table. “Anyway, I’m in dire need of a shower and comfier clothing, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Logan almost cried at the thought of you no longer smelling like you do now, and he had half the mind to tell you to forget the shower, you smelt that fucking good. But he also didn’t want the reputation of the weird-smell guy, so instead of trapping you in his arms and begging you not to, he simply nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, see you later.” He grumbled, trying not to be obviously annoyed by the fact the time you’d spent together was coming to an end. You shot him a confused look, before disappearing out the door and up the stairs to your room. Logan stayed for a few more minutes, his eyes closed as he finally let himself get lost in your scent. He wanted you. Fuck he’d only known you for a day and he wanted you. How the hell was he supposed to just behave normally now you were back living here? It simply wasn’t possible. 
He groaned, running a hand down the side of his face. On the one hand, he really wanted to spend more time with you. He was actively looking forward to spending time with you. But on the other, he didn’t know how much longer he could behave himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this ‘friendly’ banter with you without it crossing the line. Had it already crossed the line?
Jesus Christ, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t help thinking this was likely about to get extremely messy if he didn’t get his shit together. But, at the same time…
He always liked a little mess.
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Freshly showered, moisturised and pampered, you lay face up on your bed, your room feeling more like a forest than anything else. The steam from your shower still rolling out from your bathroom, and the more tropical plants you kept seemed to be absolutely thriving. You were thrilled, you really were, but you couldn’t take your mind off the day you’d just had. Not that it was over, it was only five in the afternoon, but so much had happened in the last day it was hard to wrap your head around.
You’d been replaced as a professor, your bedroom stolen, and you’d been informed that the mutation you thought you knew so well wasn’t actually what you thought it was at all, and that it could very well end you in seconds. You’d thrown a fit, broken your hand, dragged shadows toward you and constructed them into a pair of fucking awesome wings, and cooked with a man you’d known all of two minutes.
And the strangest fucking part was that you couldn’t get him off your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was honestly getting a little irritating, seeing his face every time you close your eyes, hearing his laugh when your room got a little too silent. Feeling the ghostly touches of his arms around your waist, his hands on your neck. His breath against your ear. 
You flapped your arms down on your bed in defiance. You would not lie in bed thinking about him all evening. You refused. And luckily, due to an unexpected visit, you didn’t have to.
“He likes you, ya know,”
You screamed, whipping your head back to your door where you saw Kitty strolling in, completely unphased by your reaction. Grabbing one of your pillows, you threw it at her approaching form, watching as it soared straight through her body. Your jaw flapped, completely speechless. “I– Wh– Kitty! You can’t just waltz in here unannounced! Scared me shitless!” you exclaimed, running a stressed hand through your hair.
“Why? I always used to. Been gone that long, huh?” she asked, plopping down on the end of your bed and crossing her legs. 
“Yeah… guess I have,” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your accommodation to be broken into. The moment rumour got out there was a mutant staying a few streets over the road, you had to move. Sometimes you hadn’t been quick enough and had spent the rest of the evening frantically scrubbing blood from beneath your fingernails, before making a quick exit.
Those were the times on your travels nobody needed to know about. Those were the times you’d keep to yourself. 
You jumped again as your door burst open, a frantic Logan looking you up and down before his eyes darted around the room. “You alright? I heard screaming,” he panted, slightly breathless from clearly having sprinted up the stairs. 
Your heart grew five sizes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Kitty scared the shit out of me, ‘s’all,” you shrugged, too focused on him to notice the woman of the hour beaming wildly, looking between the two of you. 
His shoulders sagged, the man visibly relaxing, his eyes lingering on yours. “Okay…”
“Okay…” you repeated, unable to tame your disobedient smile as he almost awkwardly nodded his head. 
“Right. I’ll uh, yeah. Leave ya to it,” he clicked his tongue, sending you one last glance to make sure you were really okay, before closing the door. 
You sighed, shaking your head fondly, chuckling quietly to yourself. 
“Oh. My. God. You like him too!”
Looking up with unnatural speed, you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. “The fuck are you talking about?” you asked a little too defensively.
“I’m talking about you and Logan. He clearly likes you, and now I can see that you like him too! Oh, this is so fucking cute, just wait until I tell Marie, she’ll go fucking crazy!” Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you had to catch one of her wrists in order to stop her. 
“What are you on about? Logan doesn’t like me, we’re just friends,” oh, was it supposed to hurt that much to say it? But, in all honesty, you don’t think you were ready to confront whatever it was you felt for this man. For now, you were pretty content to bask in not knowing, and being kind of excited about it.
“Mhm? Friends don’t eye fuck in the kitchen.”
You choked. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that if you weren’t actually looking at her, you wouldn’t have believed you were talking to Shadowcat herself, Kitty Pryde. “Kitty! Christ, what happened to you? And we weren’t eye fucking. I was hungry and refused to cook insta-noodles, so we actually made a meal.” You explained. 
“For almost four hours? Meatballs take twenty minutes, twenty-five at a push,”
“We lost track of time!”
“I repeat, for four hours?” she asked again, folding her arms and raising one of her thin brows. You pursed your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else incriminating. “Though as much,”
“I didn’t even say anything!” 
“You didn’t need to, it’s written over your lovestruck face.” She poked her finger toward your nose, and all you could think about was the way Logan flicked your forehead beforehand or the way Logan gave you that little push back in the training room. Or the way Logan–
Christ on a fucking boat when would it end?
“I’m not lovestruck,” you mumbled, dragging your knees up to your chest. You debated telling Kitty about your predicament with your mutation, for the sole reason of explaining why you and Logan were spending so much time together recently, but you didn’t think you could bear the look on her face. The only ones who knew, to your understanding, were Scott, as the leader of the team, Jean, as the leading scientist, Charles for obvious reasons, and Logan because you told him. You didn’t really want another person to know your problems, especially not Kitty. 
You couldn’t bear to see her face when you told her you weren’t a phaser anymore. The mere thought broke your heart. You had matching mugs and everything. You couldn’t do that to her. Let alone sharing the idea that your mutation could simply not allow you to return back to the corporeal world one day, and you’d be stuck as nothing but wondering consciousness in the shadows for, effectively, all eternity. That was a little too morbid to talk about even with Logan.
“He’s just… helping me get back into the swing of things. I haven’t been a teacher for a long time, Kit, and since he took my position, he’s offered to help me–”
“Get back into teaching! Oh my god, he has, hasn’t he? That’s so exciting! I thought you didn’t want to get back into it?” She asked, untucking her legs and swinging them around so she was now lying comfortably on your bed, her head propped up on her elbow. 
“Well, we’re not getting ahead of ourselves, but yeah, that’s the idea. Gonna help him with his class tomorrow…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to accelerate at the thought of teaching your first class in two years. “So yeah, that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together. It’s nothing serious, promise! Plus, since most of the new students are kids I found, he’s pretty much the only person I don’t know here.” You flopped back down onto your bed, angling your head so you could still see her.
There was a moment of comfortable silence, a moment to let the conversation settle and for your heart to slow a little, before Kitty spoke up again. “He was really excited to meet you,” she offered quietly, and your brows raised subconsciously. “Everytime someone started talking about you, he’d tune in. He was subtle, but Marie noticed it first, and she told me to look out for it. He was looking forward to meeting you for the best part of a year.”
You took a deep breath. That couldn’t possibly be true. “You’re good at seeing things that aren’t there, Kit. I love you for it, but sometimes things really aren’t that deep,” you explained softly, trying your hardest not to smile at the image of Logan only tuning into the conversation if it was about you. It was definitely a stretch of the imagination, but it was a pleasant one.
“Yeah yeah, you watch. I’ll be keeping an eye on your totally platonic relationship with Professor Howlett but mark my words, you’ll be together by the end of the month,” Kitty smacked your calf to emphasise her point, and you shook your leg threateningly, laughing at the notion. 
“I cannot wait to see you eat your words. I’m sure they’ll taste of falsehoods and regret.” You flashed her a toothy grin, and she stuck her tongue out in retaliation. You’d missed moments like these. In all honesty, you hadn’t realised how lonely the last two years had been. Hadn’t realised how starved of friendship you’d been until you found yourself talking and laughing amongst friends again. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed this place until you came home again, to both the old friends, and the new. 
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barleyo · 8 months ago
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Rural Bliss.
Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing
Wordcount: 1.8k
!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!
Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.
Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 
What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 
Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 
The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 
"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 
You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 
He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 
"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.
"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."
"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 
"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.
He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 
"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."
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Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.
Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.
He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.
"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 
His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 
He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 
What was wrong with you? 
Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.
You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.
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Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 
You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 
He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.
You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.
That type of thinking brought him here. 
"Daddy, please..."
The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 
He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.
He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 
"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 
He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 
"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.
"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 
He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.
"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."
That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.
He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 
Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 
He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 
"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 
"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."
His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 
Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.
"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.
As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 
You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.
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ryebread0605 · 1 month ago
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Okay, here me out...
Leona with a female reader that has a primal play fetish. Dash of a breeding kink...
Him getting a kick out of how reactive she gets, wound up when running during gym class. When their bodies clash on the field during contact sports. She's feisty and clearly not afraid to get roughed up, openly clashing with other students with a smile of delight. A lioness in all but body.
Once again yall really figuring out like all of my interests here! I actually ended up looking into more if female or male lions are more dominant but, as a lot of stuff goes either way, imma stick with the male lion being more dominant! (Ps to other anon asking for lioness reader I added you in here!)
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The only female in Savanaclaw.
The only one in all of NRC.
The only non beastman since Rook.
At first, Leona was certain the other men would eat you alive.
And yet, you proved very early on you were NOT to be taken lightly.
He still remembers it, the men had decided to gang up on you and try to catch you off guard. Before he could even blink, they had all been knocked out and you had a rage he had never before seen on anyone in your eyes.
Damn was it ever hot.
He found himself craving your feisty nature, how you would glare at him during spelldrive practice when on opposite teams and how seriously you took the games. It was your way of showing off and damn did you ever. The fire in your eyes and the smirk on your face with each calculated movement you made just about made the prideful lion want to give in.
Key word: just about.
Instead, he became determined to have you submit to him. To prove that he could tame even the most wild of animals. To show he was truly in power here. Leona did always love a good chase, so make it interesting herbivore. 
(!!Smut starts here!!)
The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room, low growls from one and filthy words from the other. The bed creaked, almost as if it would give out soon under the two. 
“Look at you, such a dirty slut. All you’re good for is this, being a cumdump for me.” His voice was condescending and sharp, that dumb smirk you hated yet loved plastered on his face as his hips continued their relentless movement. You couldn’t even speak, his dick hitting the right zones so perfectly that your brain begged you to just give in while also wanting him to be meaner. 
“Aww, poor kitten lost her claws? Too fucking bad, I like seeing you quiet for once~” he laughed cruelly as he tangled his fingers in your hair and yanked a bit, not enough to cause damage but just enough to tow the line between pleasure and pain. The bumps along his cock rubbed so perfectly against your soft wet walls that hugged him tight, a sensation he adored more than anything. 
“You gonna be a good little breeding toy? Let me fill you up until you’re all swollen with my cubs? Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you whore?” He growled into your ear as his brutal pace grew faster and more frantic, his hand in your hair pushing your head into the bed more as you drooled from the overwhelming pleasure.
It didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to hit, his following soon after as the thick hot ropes of cum exploded into your cunt. He stilled, panting as sweat coated his muscular abdomen, tail swaying behind him and ears twitching a bit. Slowly, he began to pull out and laughed as you whined in response, cum dripping from your greedy hole,
“So pathetic, crying over not being stuffed? Fucking whore, you’re lucky I like to see you lose your mind to me~” he smirked once again as he flipped you onto your back and pushed your legs to your chest, allowing him to get a great view of his cum dribbling out of your swollen cunt. He gave it a few smacks, each eliciting a moan from you, before he roughly shoved back in for the fourth time that night,
“Now be a good little breeding toy and moan loud for me, Ruggie deserves a good show afterall~” looks like the Hyena outside the door wasn’t so sneaky afterall.
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dragonridernoobie · 7 months ago
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Glad to see a undertale au author still up and running.
Thoughts on writing a feral underfell bitty sans (possibly abandoned, escaped from a bad place, neglected? Who knows) the reader finds injured and patches them up + befriends them?
Some bitty fics include feral bitties travelling together, like a horror or classic sans with a fell.
Basically, go nuts, no strict requests. Interpret it how ever you like :)
Hope you like this request, idk just enjoying the fandom.
Enjoy the rest of your day/night ^-^
I am so happy to do this! It reminded me of a picture I found on Pinterest that I wanted to adopted fell san bitty. Here is the picture. Also, I'm gonna do it with fell and horror since they where abandon for there looks and attitude.
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To anyone else reading this: You will adopt him, and if you don't, I will find out where you live and kill you. Then I'm gonna bring you're ass back from hell and make you write a sorry letter to a fictional character.
Enjoy <3
FellSansBitty X Reader X HorrorSansBitty
It was just a normal day in Ebbot city. All you wanted to do was get a coffee and some treats but mother nature decided that you where gonna deal with nature and threw the biggest Strom the city has seen.
You where currently running down the street, you're jacket over you're head to stop getting wet.
While on you're way back home, you ran by a alley you passed a million times. Though, this time was different. You heard crying. You stopped and tried to listen over the heavey thunder and rain but you couldn't.
When you got closer, you where able to hear it clearer. When a loud thundering boom made it's present, you heard a whimper. When you followed the noise, you came across a wet, broken down box. On the front it said "bitty for sale." There were numbers also scratched out.
25$, 15$, 5$, and free. You looked inside and you saw a bitty. Bittys where interduced to human kind when monsters arrived above ground.
Humans took them quickly and made more of them. They are now used for therapy, friends, pets, and teatchers for the disabled.
Though there were times when bittys did stuff they were not meant to do. Like bitting, talking back, and actually running away from their owners. People called then "broken bittys."
When that stuff happened, people would take them and dust them or put them down in human words. You did not believe in that way since it was wrong, and living things should have free will.
So when you opened the soggy broken box open, you came face to face with the bitty. It looked up at you, scared but also hissed at you in fear.
You used your best smoothing voice to calm into bitty and reach your hand out. Showing it that it can get on your hand if it wants.
When another loud thundering boom was heard, it quickly grabbed you're hand and you slowly raised it up.
Now that it was in your hand, you quickly brought it underneth your jacket and got a closer look at it
It looked like....
FellSanBitty
It looked like a little cherry. It had a big furry black and yellow jacket and shorts.
It had red eyelights.
It looked at you while you stood up and quickly ran to you're house.
Once you reached you're house, you where quick to grab a towel and help the bitty dry off.
It grumble and snapped at you, saying it can do it it's delf
Once it was dru, you interduce youreself. "Hi, my name is (Y/N). What's you're name?"
"....sans...but I like being called red...."
You nod and ask him if he wants food.
You make him some grilled cheese and give it to him.
He complains that the grilled cheese was too cheesy, but he was lying that he hated it since he was eating it faster, then he could chew it.
You had to tell him a few times to slow down.
While he eats, you asked him why he was in that box.
Red stopped eating and looked at the ground.
"No one wants a mean looking bitty..."
Obviously you don't like that so you pet his head and say to him. "I don't think you look mean looking. I think you look tough."
Red looks at you surpised. He looked at you like you were joking, but how you were petting him, you wernt joking.
He blushes and pushes you're hand away.
"I ain't cute."
You chuckle and nod. "Of corse you're not."
"I said I ain't fuckin cute! Now stop fucking petting me!"
You guys are gonna have a instresting relationship.
Pretend that's you're hand.
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HorrorSansBitty
When you got a better look at the bitty in you're hand, it looked hurt.
It had a hole in its head, torn up clothes, and seemed to be shaking from the cold.
You held it aginst youreself and ran home.
Once home, you quickly grabbed a towl and help it dry it off, being mindful of its hole in the head.
Once dry, you asked him for a name.
"......sans......but people call me horror."
You nod and ask if he wants some grilled cheese.
His eyes seem to shine at the sound of food and quickly nods.
You make some and give it to him.
You watch him devour the grilled cheese in seconds.
You had to tell him to slow down.
Once he was done eating, you asked the hardest question.
"Why where you in that box?"
Horror stopped eating the crumbs and looked down
"No one wants a broken looking bitty."
You're hurt by his words but after a bit, you take 2 fingers and pet his good side of his skull.
He immediately looked at you surpised but smile and purred.
You just got a skeloton cat bitty.
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darinawrites · 8 days ago
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~embedded in your warmth
Cho hyun-ju x reader
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Summary: accepting your death as you stood still on the circle platform, an iron grip on your arm had a different fate set out for you
Content: fluff to satiate the fluff lovers (we don't get fed enough), timid reader, soft hyun-ju, reader is implied to be fem, but can still be read as gn, typical squid game violence
A/n: this is my first post, crazy. But there's sadly not enough fluff hyun-ju on here. Im still unsure if I'll do a pt.2, we'll see. Also, my writing style is suited much more for longer stories. I tried to make it shorter, but it felt a bit rushed, tips would be appreciated! <3
Word count: 1.6k
___________________________________________
The childish song ringing in your ear, and the smell of blood filling your nose made your head spin as you spun around a type of carousel. It was excruciating to see the familiar fluid splattered everywhere, all reminders of the lost memories of those who once were beside you.
You never expected one of your childhood games to be so gorey, yet here you are, stifling the urge to vomit at the scene, gripping the arms of the only player you acquainted yourself with.
With a quiet and reserved personality, you unfortunately couldn't make yourself join a group, neither did you want to. Though, you've come to despise your reticent behavior as this game was just about that, pathetically clinging to a player you've spoken a few words with was your last option to survive this.
Shaky hands clutched the unknown players arm as the song suddenly stopped echoing in your ears, a woman's voice calling out:
4-
And the frantic search began again as the spinning platform came to a halt. Lights flickering, people screaming and running, all in a few seconds. You quickly grounded yourself against the arm, legs running before your mind can catch up to its own ideas as you both searched for more people. Panting, sweat dripping down your forehead as you desperately searched for someone, anything.
Your mind was hazy as the player blurted to split up to find a group, not comprehending what he said before letting go of your arm and bolting away. The gesture almost made you lose your balance before you started frantically searching too, life on the line.
Running on pure adrenaline, you saw a group of three in the distance. The timer was nearing its end as you ran with the random group you found in an empty room. Pushing yourself behind the door as it made a soft 'click' sound.
Collapsing against the cold wall, your pants mixing in with the rest of the group, coming to the realization on how close you all were at the hands of death, barely managing to escape from its grip.
As gunshots joined with the eery screams of the players, what could've been your blood curling scream, you let out a shaky breath, body naturally flinching. Closing your eyes as the sounds rang trough your skull. You didn't want to see it, you'll ignore it for as long as possible, focusing your sight at the floor, your shoes or the other players.
If you can't see it, then it didn't happen, right?
But the dreaded part of it all was the silence that followed after, as if the lost souls are wondering the little carousel. It was worse than any other scream you've heard, and that made you even more uneasy. Showing more unwanted vulnerability.
The small room fades around you, the talking of the players blurring into the background as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, their judging eyes following your actions, yet you couldn't bring yourself to care, small snivels falling out of your mouth. The last bit of composure shattering inside you as the door unlocks. You had no one.
Deemed expendable, the players left you, all alone. Anxiety creeping back up again as you slowly made your way back, taking note of the fresh blood splattering even more of the ground. That damm song starting to play again, giving you chills. The platform, now covered with less people, spinning again. You truly thought this was it.
The moment you stepped in this room, you knew your fate was sealed. It was much too hard of a task to find a group with your timid personality. And in 30 seconds too? You just accepted it.
Thoughts whirled inside your head, trying to decipher where it all went wrong. How did it come to this?
Hazy eyes looked down at the small blue patch attached to your green tracksuit. Gaze focusing on the white 'O' sewed into it.
Were you this desperate?
You couldn't bring yourself to react as the platform beneath you stopped your weight. The voice that you've grew to hate calling out again.
-2
This time, you didn't react, no arm to cling to, no reason to run and change your fate. You were paralyzed from fear as the chaos simply surrounded you. You just couldn't move, you couldn't. Timer ticking above you, counting down the time before you fall into the arms of death.
You could sense the franticness of the players surrounding you, loud screams right beside your ear as they started pushing other players around. Falling victim to their movement as you felt your body lose balance, eyes blurring.
Before your body could fall against the red painted floor, a strong grip clutched your arms and pulled you towards them. Your eyes still unfocused, not being able to analyze your surroundings.
It all happened so fast. From being still as a statue to suddenly sprinting again, legs struggling to keep up with the pace set by the other pair of legs.
You tried to keep your head out of the gutter, gaze falling on the person who saved you.
Amidst the screams, you could still see short black hair and a tall frame and-
Oh. Her.
You finally recognized the arms that pulled you, being the woman you've seen a couple of times. Her bed right underneath yours. You saw her heroic acts in previous games. From saving player 456 to slapping some sense in that crazy lady. It seemed like she was just a kind person in nature, saving everyone she could. That made you trust her lead.
You had so many thankful thoughts clouding your mind as she softly pushed you in an empty room, making sure not to hurt you. Her back falling onto the door, only relaxing as it finally closed.
It wasn't long before the gravity of the situation came back again, gunshots ringing out again, flinching once more as your body suddenly felt fatigued. Your head was still spinning, matching the pain the rest of your body felt.
Sitting down to rest your weak body, you could feel her soft gaze looking at you, scanning you as she saw how weakened and shaken up you were.
"It'll be okay." her voice said. Seeing you tremble again as the gunshots continued. Closing the small distance the room offered between you two as she crouched down to where your head laid against the wall.
"You've come so far, you can't just give it all up by just standing there." her tone was one you weren't familiar with in these games. It was gentle with an affirming undertone. Genuine worry evident in it.
She moved her hands, hesitantly, before placing them on your cheek. You couldn't tell before when she gripped your arm how soft her hand actually was. Swiping her thumb at your cheek, picking up a small tear that slipped out.
Comforting, warm, intimate. Cheeks warming up at the gesture, sniffles fading away. Her gesture to mollify your tense body working. Gunshots still echoing in the background, a reminder of what this situation really was.
"I..I just can't anymore. I just want to go home." you said under your breath, such a small voice that it was barely heard, her comfort drugging you to let your frail emotions talk for you.
Her eyes were a big pool of emotions swirling around, her lips slightly curling downwards. Taking her hands off your cheek, an eery silence now creeping in as the screams and gunshots seemingly stopped.
"I know it's scary being here, but home can only be reached if you don't give up. Don't let these games drain you, don't make them win control over your body."
Shaking your head, you sighed. "I don't have the strength to not give up...I'm not strong like you." you admitted, letting the vulnerable words flow out. Thoughts intruding your brain that she'll discard you after this. Your timidness only hindering her.
"Then I'll be your strength. I can help you if you let me." Her words were so peculiar to you, something so unexpected. You noticed her features getting softer, her hands now rubbing the fabric on your shoulder.
Shaky breaths came out of you, not trusting your voice with the task of agreeing, you let your head make a small nod. Anxiety was still embedded in you, being something you've struggled with in every game, but her words alone made it smaller. It was evidently still there, but it shrank, even just a diminutive amount. You'll try, it's a promise. Letting your gaze dwell on her impeccable features, as she stood up and held out her hand. It made the edges of your lips go upwards, a feeling you've missed.
"What's your name?" you asked as your feet were pulled up, a slight tremble still there.
"Cho hyun-ju."
"Cho hyun-ju..." you repeated, testing the sound of it. It was weird to finally say someones name, with everyone being hidden behind numbers. You never managed to familiarize yourself with anyone to have the trust of their name. It felt...nice.
"And yours?" she asked, never letting you leave her eyesight.
You said your name, your voice now having a slight tremble. Though the uneasiness vanished just as fast it came as her lips had the gentlest smile. Her hands still on yours when she lifted you, now slightly squeezing yours. It made you have a faint smile, even as the door finally unlocked. Knowing what you'll see as you walk out, you'd have a warm body beside you to help you.
With her, maybe you will make it trough.
___________________________________________
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quizzicalwriter · 1 year ago
Note
i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧
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Mercy
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Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader
Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.
Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.
A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!
Word Count: 3.4k
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You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.
Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.
You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.
One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.
You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.
“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”
You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.
Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.
After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.
“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”
“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?
“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”
You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.
You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.
“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”
The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.
“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.
As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”
You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.
The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.
“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”
All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”
He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.
You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.
His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.
“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”
You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.
He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.
“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.
The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.
The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.
“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”
You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.
You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.
“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”
The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.
The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.
Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.
“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”
You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.
The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.
You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.
“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”
You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.
You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.
The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.
“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.
“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”
You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.
He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.
“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”
You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.
“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”
“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”
He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.
“It is funny.”
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A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”
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xamag-draws · 10 months ago
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BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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0097linersb · 6 months ago
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Little White Lies (m)
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Pairings: Satoru Gojo x Reader
Genre: Smut, basically pwp, kind of fluff for a bit
Word count: 5k~
Summary: Satoru gets too excited at the thought of being your husband.
Follow me on twitter: marmitasatosugu <3 I´ll proofread this some other day
You thanked God every day that Satoru had the attention span of a 2-year-old considering that you often got away with stuff solely because he was walking around pointing at random clouds or rambling about what movie to watch later. Shoko joked once that you should just leash him after he rushed excitedly to feed some pigeons on the street, but you just laughed it off – you loved the way he was, fully and completely.
Now to quote an example: after a few years of dating, sometimes you found yourself telling a little white lie around, simply because it was so much easier to just call Satoru your husband rather than your boyfriend, especially since it made people take you so much more seriously. It started small, workers had been referring to the man as your spouse for so long that at some point, you just stopped correcting them. It was great, it was practical; people would treat you with more respect and you would have fun inside your little fantasy world.
“My husband will pay for it, the one with the white hair over there.”
“Good afternoon, I´m looking for a gift for my husband.”
“My husband will pick it up later, thank you.”
“Put it on my husband´s tab, please.”
Satoru never caught on to it and you´d much rather that he never did – but once again, the probabilities of it happening were low: if you weren´t holding his hand, he was probably far from you, exploring the big world around him and all its wonders. But oh well, your luck couldn´t last forever.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Y/N,” The receptionist with the Hawaiian shirt smiled once you and Satoru walked inside the resort hand-in-hand. “This must be your husband, welcome to Crystal Waves, Mr. Gojo. Congratulations on the wedding!”
Frozen in place for a second, you couldn´t for the life of you look at your boyfriend. It´s not that you were ashamed, it was a silly little thing that you knew Satoru wouldn´t mind or judge you for, it´s just that… He would tease you so much, you´d never hear the end of it.
You had forgotten all about how when making the reservations, after a long conversation with the lady on the phone, somehow you ended up with free upgrades because apparently it was your honeymoon – Technically, all you said was that the reservation was for you and your husband, she was the one who, probably trying to be nice, commented that she was surprised because you sounded so young, therefore asking if you were newlyweds, so naturally you agreed because the little lie you told was now too far along to take back.
That was almost two months ago, of course you´d forgotten about it. If you hadn´t, you could have just filled Satoru in on the little story, he would love to play pretend, and this was right up his alley. But you didn´t, so before he could say anything, you swallowed down the embarrassment and pretended normality, “Good afternoon, Martha. Yes, this is he.”
You still didn´t look at Satoru, but you heard him thanking her amusedly.
“We´re so glad to have you here,” She smiled as another worker brought you welcome orange cocktails with a beautiful pink flower decorating the glass before guiding you towards the front desk for check-in.
“Did you have a chance to look at all the activities we offer?” Martha asked after you finished signing the paperwork. “For some of the schedules, we ask for the reservations to be made in advance.”
“Yes, that´s understandable. I´m interested in the SPA treatments; we can book it for tomorrow if you have any spots available.”
“Yes, of course. Are we going for the complete package, back massage, facial, scalp treatment, hot stones, body rub…?”
“I think the back ma-”
“Complete package,” Satoru interrupted, tightening the hold on your hand.
“Ok, perfect. 9 AM, 2 PM or 5PM?” Martha asked, clicking away on the computer, smiling up at Satoru for his romantic gesture.
“9 sound goods.”
“Any other plans?”
You waited for Satoru to answer, since he was the one who spent days rambling about some of the stuff he wanted to do, but since he stayed silent, you cleaned your throat and took it upon yourself, “The parasailing one, what days do you have it available?”
“Will it be just your husband or you´ll be going as well?”
“Both of us.”
“Looks like we have an opening two days from now at 3 PM, does that sound good?”
“Perfect, and what about the White Stones Trail?”
“It happens every Monday at 8 AM, should I book it for the two of you?”
“Oh God no, just for my husband, please.”
You didn´t even notice you got carried away in the role until Satoru dropped your hand, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closed, his thumb rubbing the skin on your side. You still refused to look at him.
“Booked. Anything else?”
“We´d like to go scuba diving on Tuesday.”
“We have a boat leaving at 10 AM.”
“Sounds good. I guess that´s all for now.”
“All set then, these are the keys to your room. The elevator is at the end of the hall to your left, press 10. Your bags are already waiting for you inside. Hope you have an incredible stay and please find me if you need anything.”
You both thanked Martha before you spun in your heels and tried to make a run for it, your escape plan being quickly ruined by Satoru´s hand finding yours once again, holding you close. Taking a deep breath, you accepted defeat and prepared yourself mentally for the next days of hell.
“So…” Satoru started once you were out of earshot from the main desk. You didn´t look at him but you could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was smiling as you walked down the hall.
“Don´t start,” You warned.
“Too late. Husband, huh?”
“Listen, don´t get your panties in a twist-”
“Oh, I´m absolutely getting my panties in a twist.”
“There´s a logical explanation for all of this,” You informed as he pressed the elevator button.
“Which is?”
“I don´t want to talk about it.”
“But you will.”
You sighed, “When I made the reservations, I told them it was our honeymoon so we´d get upgraded and get like, some free stuff.”
The elevator doors dinged open and you walked in, not even being able to appreciate the paradisiacal panoramic beach view inside. Satoru dropped your hand now that you had nowhere to run, leaning against the glass window and crossing his arms to look at you attentively – At least that´s what you guessed since your eyes were glued to the ceiling.
“Y/N, I´m rich,” He stated as a matter of fact, because well, it was true. “You don´t need to lie to get stuff.”
Shit.
He caught you on your semi-lie - and he knew it too by the way there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shouldn´t have looked at him.
“Fuck, ok,” You rolled your eyes, annoyed that he wouldn´t just accept your answer and move on. Taking another deep breath, you carefully measured your words: “Sometimes, for practical reasons, I just tell people we´re married.”
“For practical reasons?”
“Yes, it makes my life easier in certain situations.”
“And how long have you been doing this for?”
Would this damn elevator never reach your floor?
“A few months.”
“And what are you telling people I am?”
“Are you stupid? If we´re married, you´re my husband.”
“Which makes you, my wife.”
The doors finally opened and Satoru reached for your hand, practically dragging you along with his abnormally long legs as you stared at his back.
“Yes Satoru, that´s the correct term.”
“So, you're telling people that you´re my wife?”
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, struggling to keep up with his pace and confused at his reaction. You expected insufferable teasing for the next few days and not… Whatever this was.
“Yes Sato – Are you ok? Did you hit your head or something?”
“No,” He finally stopped in front of your room, turning around to look at you with a huge smile on his face as you caught your breath. “I´m just so hard right now.”
“You- You´re what now?” You choked out as he searched his pockets for the magnetic card that opened the door. Your eyes automatically trailed down his pants and he was indeed not lying about his current state. “Do you have a thing for elevators?”
Satoru celebrated when he found the key, positioning it against the lock and smiling when he heard the engines turning, eyes back on you as he opened the door eagerly, “No, but I do have a thing for you calling me your husband.”
He didn´t wait for an answer, pulling you into the room and practically banging the door closed before pressing you against it. Satoru ripped his black glasses off, throwing them somewhere on the floor before bending down to your height so your faces were only inches apart.
“Say it again.”
“Satoru, let´s look around the room first, enjoy the view -”
“That can wait, I´d rather enjoy this view for now.”
“´Twas expensive,” You tried again.
“I´d spend all my money on you. Now say it again.”
“What?”
“Call me your husband.”
You were still so confused, was this a trap? For some reason, Satoru seemed to be enjoying it, a bit too much even. You let your walls crumble down slightly, wrapping your arms around Satoru´s neck so you´d be more comfortable.
“My husband?” You tentatively obeyed.
He instantly groaned, crashing his lips against yours with so much need that you felt like this was your first time all over again. He started by holding your face, his hands so big that he could hold your jaw with his palms while his fingers dug at the roots of your hair on your nape. He just held you like you were absolutely everything in the world to him and that got your legs weak. His tongue massaged yours and you were whining against his mouth in no time, hands clawing at his black shirt harsher every time he grinded against you. Satoru was equally as worked up, his chest heaving up and down as his hands left your face to grab at the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips.
It was so much easier kissing him like this, since you were actually able to reach him. Unfortunately though, this new position got your boyfriend´s throbbing cock right against your core which you know, did nothing to calm you down. You grabbed at his hair in pure need, making a mess out of it as he left your swollen and wet lips alone to attack your neck.
“You´re so beautiful,” He groaned against your neck after he sucked at your jugular, his hips subconsciously bucking against yours. “Can´t believe you´re mine.”
“Satoru,” You moaned as he bit into the junction of your shoulder and neck.
His lips caught yours once again in another messy and aggressive kiss, his right hand leaving your thigh to start bunching up the bottom of your dress until he could see your panties.
“I could just take you right now,” He groaned against your lips.
“Then do it.”
The corner of his lips tugged up in amusement, “Now that´s no way to treat my wife, is it?”
His own words seemed to light another fire inside him, before you could even react, he was kissing you roughly once again, spinning the two of you around and carrying you towards the bed, where he threw you unceremoniously. You yelped at the impact and once more when he grabbed at your calves, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You supported yourself up on your elbows, so you could see when he went down to his knees in between your legs.
He stayed there on the floor for a few seconds, simply admiring the wet spot on your panties, your legs folded up so they wouldn´t be dangling from the edge of the bed. As you were about to complain, he pressed his thumb right on your clit over the fabric, before slowly rubbing circles with the pad of his finger, staring at what he was doing like he was hypnotized. A gasp left your lips at the surprise feeling and his eyes, which were so focused, snapped out of the trance to look up at you.
As your eyes met, he smiled, “My wife.”
“What´s up with you?” You shakily asked as he gently slid your panties down your legs, throwing them away somewhere.
“I just like the sound of it,” Satoru answered as he grabbed at your thighs once again, positioning them on his shoulders, placing a wet kiss on your inner tight.
Your head fell back in pleasure when he bent down, slowly licking your slit from bottom to top before giving your clit a light suck. He then pulled away slightly and you could already see his lips glistening, his arms wrapped around your tights firmly.
“Tell me you´ll marry me.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, not familiar with this type of foreplay and not sure if this was the right setting for this type of discussion. In response to your silence, he dove back in, his tongue eagerly working on your clit – Why did your boyfriend, besides being rich and extremely hot, also have to be good at just fucking everything?
As soon as you left a moan out and he felt your body start twitching at his ministrations, he leaned back once again, “Tell me.”
He looked at you so hungrily that you heard yourself answering before even realizing, “I´ll marry you, Satoru.”
“And that we will have a big, beautiful family.”
And suddenly, it all made sense: Gojo Satoru, the single most powerful sorcerer in the whole world, unraveled at the thought of marrying you, of you being his, of being loved and having a happy family. Your chest filled with so much love suddenly; your boyfriend was such a loser.
“I´ll give you all that,” You agreed.
Even if it was a fantasy, for this moment it didn´t have to be.
You gave him the answer he wanted, and he excitedly went back to his job after hearing your words. His tongue expertly lapping at you in between kisses and sucks, one of your hands flying to grab at his hair to try and ground yourself. Even after years with this man, you´d never be able to get used to just how good he was at fucking you - and today especially, after a long time of not being touched because either you or him were always away for work, you were feeling extra sensitive.
Satoru knew exactly what to do to get you squirming in record time, flatting his tongue to draw circles against your clit, flicking his tongue from side to side, up and down, fucking it into you and it just drove you absolutely crazy. Even his groans of pleasure as he ate you out with so much hunger, vibrating against you, got your head spinning.
“I´m close,” You moaned, as if he didn´t already know.
“Not yet, hang in there,” He stopped, breathing hard and turning his head to the side, vehemently kissing the inner part of your thigh twice more before sitting up on his knees. “I´m having fun.”
He completely ignored your whines of protest, sitting you up so his face was now right in front of your boobs. Satoru smiled in victory at the view, softly sliding the two straps of your dress down your shoulder until all the fabric fell to your waist. Your boyfriend wasted no time, kissing all over the skin of your chest and leaving what soon would be many deep purple marks, his thumb teasing your nipples.
“Have I told you how much I love your boobs?”
“A few times,” You joked in between gasps, you both knew he would tell you that like, at least once a day.
“If I could just hold them all day I´d be the happiest man on earth,” Was the last thing he said before his mouth latched around your nipple, your back arching into the touch.
Once Satoru was satisfied with his work, he gently pushed you back into bed and climbed on top of you, supporting his weight on his two arms. At this point, you were just praying that he would fuck you already, you were dripping, walls clenching around nothing so desperately it hurt – and your boyfriend wasn´t much better, in this position you could feel very clearly how much his cock was throbbing.
You whined in need as he stared at you with his pretty blue eyes and laughed at your desperation – as if you couldn´t see he was about to cum in his pants too.
“What does my baby want?” He smirked condescendingly, amused at your need.
“To be fucked,” You groaned.
“Ah, anything for my wife,” He agreed, now only supporting his weight on his left arm as he snaked his other hand in between your bodies. “Just let me open you up first.”
You would complain you didn´t need to be prepped, but before you could say anything, his middle finger was already inside you and you forgot what you were going to say. He gently and languidly pumped his finger in and out a few times, adding another when he considered you were good to go.
You were a whiny mess, especially when he curled his fingers and found spots no one ever could before.
“Will you take my family name?” Satoru asked suddenly, his face right in front of yours, attentively watching your expression, his hair tickling your forehead. You were too out of it to even process the words coming out of his mouth. “You know the Gojo Clan is one of the most important and powerful clans in the country. It would sound nice, Gojo Y/N.”
He smiled kind of sadistically at your dazed expression before continuing, his fingers not stopping even once, “Or I could take your last name, I don´t mind. Who gives a fuck about the Gojo Clan anyways? I just suggested it ´cause I´d love everyone to know you´re mine.”
Satoru sped up his fingers and you grabbed his arm, your whole body shaking as your high approached, “But if you accept, you´ll be the heiress of everything, everything will be yours, including me. You can do anything you want, order whoever you want, and spend whatever you want, I´ll let you rule over it all, one snap of your fingers and it´s yours. My wife, the head of the Gojo clan.”
A dragged-out moan left your lips not only because of his restless fingers inside of you, but also because of the whole scenario he was painting, he wanted you to have it all, he wanted to be the one to give you everything. He felt the way your walls were squeezing around him and smiled, slowing down his fingers, “But for now, I´ll be a good husband and fuck my beautiful wife until she´s crying.”
At that, your eyes lit up, quickly sitting up to unbutton his shirt as he unzipped his pants. Once he was done with his trousers, he started helping you with the buttons and you abandoned your task, deciding to litter the already exposed parts of his chest and abdomen with kisses, an “I love you” leaving your mouth in between each touch of your lips on his skin – Because you did, you loved him so much.
The show of affection drove Satoru crazy, harshly throwing his shirt away. You were equally insane at the sight of your boyfriend in just his boxers, practically salivating as if this wasn´t the thousandth time you´d seen him like this. He caught you looking at him in pure awe and smiled, leaning over you for a quick sweet kiss before getting rid of his boxers.
“I´ll get you a ring so big it´ll weigh on your finger,” He informed as he climbed on top of you. “Everyone will be able to spot it from miles away.”
“Don´t want it, just want you.”
“You already have me,” He held your face, his eyes so intense you froze for a second. “Always had, always will.”
“What a simp,” You teased as if you weren´t right about to cry.
“Only for my wife,” He smiled, admiring your face.
“And now will my husband finally please fuck me?”
You said it kind of jokingly, but the title appeared to do the trick anyways; you felt his cock twitching against your thigh before he grabbed at one of your legs, pushing your knee slightly up and groaning as he grabbed his member to position it against you.
After all this lovey-dovey talk, you kind of expected Satoru to want to make slow gentle sappy love to you, and you wouldn´t exactly mind since that was amazing as well, but oh you were so wrong. You had miscalculated how horny the thought of being your husband got your boyfriend, because as he entered you, a loud groan left his lips and while normally he would wait for you to adjust to his size, this time he just kept going. At least he was slow with it, slow enough that you could feel every vein, every inch of his skin against your walls, every ridge, every bump.
You dug your nails into his back to distract yourself from the discomfort as he bottomed out, his lips open in a silent moan, and you caught yourself thinking about how lucky you were; out of everyone in the world, you were the only one who got to see the Honored one like this, so vulnerable and beautiful and yours.
“You feel so good,” He breathed out, beginning to drag his cock out. “Every fucking time.”
You didn´t care if it hurt, you wanted him to destroy you, “Satoru?”
“Yes, beautiful?”
As he started fucking into you again, you lost your words, but the pleading look you gave him and the drag of your nails down his back sent him the message loud and clear.
“Oh,” He smirked. “How am I so lucky?”
You felt his lips on yours as he began to speed up his hips, his right hand wrapping around your thigh so he could pull you flush against his cock. You cursed, feeling like you were being impaled, “Fuck.”
“To have a beautiful sweet loving wife who wants to be fucked like a slut.”
His hips were so smooth yet so fast, knowing all the right angles to get you biting at his shoulder and squeezing your walls around him.
“And you know what´s the best? All these men wanting you will have to know you´re only mine.”
It came as a surprise to you after a few months of dating that Satoru Gojo was a jealous boyfriend. It made absolutely no sense to you, considering that he was… well, Satoru Gojo. Like, what do you mean the strongest and most powerful man in the world, who could end all civilization with a flick of his finger if he wanted to, got bothered when you and Nanami took a cooking class together?
However, you kind of liked his possessiveness over you, especially when it made him thrust harder into you, got his tongue in your mouth in public, or his hand around your neck at a bar.
He felt the way you clenched at his words, breaking apart from you with a groan and flipping you around before you could even process what was happening. The way he could just throw you around so easily got you moaning into the sheets as you arched your back waiting for him.
Satoru didn´t leave you waiting for long, a second later he was already bottoming out inside you once again, and the hotel sheets were proven to be good quality when they didn´t rip under your fingers as he fucked you like his life depended on it.
You were completely lost, brain scrambled as you communicated through moans and gasps, especially when he pulled you up by the neck so your back stood against his chest. His hand stayed there, holding you in place and choking you as his other hand teasingly found its way down your abdomen, finding your clit as its destination.
Your whole body was shaking, Satoru´s arms were probably almost bleeding with how harshly your nails dug into it so you wouldn´t scream.
“You were made for me. Your pussy was made for me,” His moan was raspy against your ear. “Mine. Only for me. Your husband.”
Satoru was close and you were doing your best to buck your hips back to meet his thrusts, already at the edge too with the way his finger kept rubbing number eights against your clit. You stretched your hand back to grab at his hair, stupid at the feeling of being fucked open. He groaned at you pulling his hair, biting your shoulder to warn you he was about to cum.
“Inside,” You rasped.
He literally shivered at your words, a loud moan leaving his mouth as he thrust into you deeper than anyone had ever been before, including himself. Your vision went blank, your orgasm hitting you without warning and no time for you to prepare yourself, your body twitched violently as gasps left your lips, knowing you would have fallen like a doll if Satoru hadn´t been holding your neck.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck,” He cursed, losing control at the way your walls were crazily clenching around him.
His wet and warm mouth was soon on your shoulders, desperately kissing the bite marks he was leaving. You barely felt as he came inside you, or how his cock twitched against your walls, or how you could barely breathe with how tight he held your neck once his orgasm hit, too lost in your own pleasure. You did hear the beautiful noises coming out from his lips, prolonging your orgasm.
Once the two of you came back to reality, breathing hard, Satoru gently let go of your neck, softly rubbing his thumb over the red marks. As expected, your legs failed to hold you and your chest met the bed a second later, your eyes closed to try and come down from your high.
Satoru stayed on his knees, eyes glued to the way you were dripping out because of your walls´ spasms. He just couldn´t help himself, gathering all his cum that spilled with his fingers, ignoring your whines of protest, and pushing it all back in.
“Just a second baby,” He answered dazedly, his fingers still working.
He was obsessed, addicted to the view. No matter how much your body twitched because of the overstimulation, he couldn´t stop pumping his fingers into you, feeling how wet and slick you were around him. He groaned at the way your lips were swollen because of him, thumb gently rubbing your clit. He continued until your whines turned into moans, until your hips stopped trying to run away and instead bucked back against his fingers, until he felt himself getting hard again.
You didn´t complain when you felt his cock entering you once again, his lips worshiping your back as your eyes remained closed, slightly arching your hips to give him better access as he slowly and gently fucked you. Satoru caressed your hair and kissed your temples, your nape, your eyes, all while calling you beautiful and telling you how much he loved you.
…………………………………………….
“Gojo Satoru.”
Sensing your tone, he didn´t answer in pure fear.
The silence made you leave the bathroom, staring at your boyfriend who was in bed looking at you with wide eyes, “What´s wrong, baby?”
“We´re at a beach resort,” You said in between gritted teeth. “How the fuck am I supposed to go to the beach when it looks like I have been mauled by a bear after being dragged around town by a car?”
“I´m sorry, I got carried away.”
“Oh my god, call Martha and cancel the SPA day tomorrow.”
“I can give you a massage-”
“You´re never touching me again, Satoru.”
He smirked at that, “Yeah, give me a few hours and we´ll see.”
You hated that he was right.
329 notes · View notes
actuallysaiyan · 10 months ago
Text
The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing
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Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing
warnings: kissing, exploring sexually, fluff, mentions of IRL creative licenses/pop culture references pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after a few weeks of getting to know the shy and stoic Nanami Kento, you invite him over to your dorm to watch some anime. as things progress, you realize that you have taken his kissing virginity...
taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat. @gennaray
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Masterlist
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Classes had begun fairly well and you were getting into the full swing of things. Moving to a different city and going to a prestigious university hadn’t been your initial plan, but when you won the bursary and the scholarship, you found yourself unable to say no. Your parents had encouraged you to go, praising you for your high grades and your charismatic nature. So with that in mind, you had been very excited about the prospect.
You had worked in a bank a little bit during your last year of high school. And it completely changed your mindset about money. You decided not long after that that you were going to study to become a financial advisor. You wanted to be able to help people with their money. You wanted them to see that they could make good, fiscal plans with their assets.
And taking classes in business and finance could open a lot of doors for you. Even if the financial advisor job fell through, you could make your way into a job in stocks. Anything in the financial and business field would make you happy.
This is where you met Nanami Kento. He’s shy, sullen and stoic. He hides in the back of your shared classes. You swear he’s not paying attention whatsoever, but he’s acing the tests and the quizzes. He’s at the top of the class, no matter the subject. He’s got his nose buried in a book or his notebook most of the time.
It was his amber eyes that drew you in. Most of the time you only got to see one as he covers the other with his bangs. He rarely smiles, which also draws you in. Everyone else is dressed in business attire, whereas Kento wears business casual. And he’s very heavy on the casual side of things.
But due to his academic successes and good grades, nobody is batting an eyelash at him. Seemingly you might be the only person in these classes that is even remotely interested in him. One thing that really caught your eye was his collection of pins on his jacket.
You approach him one day after class, and he shoots you a confused look. Everyone is leaving the classroom, but you wanted to get to know him more. You wanted to approach him. And the minute you do, you notice not only does he have a look of confusion on his face, but he’s also blushing.
“You’re Nanami-san, yes?” You inquire, even if you know the answer.
He pulls his bag over his shoulder, “Y-yes. That’s me.”
You introduce yourself and extend your hand out to him, “Nice to meet you. I really like your pin.”
When he doesn’t shake your hand, you point at the cute little GIR pin on his lapel. Not many people you know have watched Invader Zim. He sort of looks at you in shock for a minute before turning away. 
“Thanks, see ya.”
And you don’t approach him for another few weeks after that first encounter. You wonder if he’s just shy or if he’s abrasive. He seems so cute in your eyes. So you push yourself to make an effort to talk to him more.
The second time, you invite him out to lunch. He doesn’t outright say yes, but he also doesn’t say no. He begins to follow you to the cafe just outside of the campus. You both order a coffee and sit in silence for a little bit.
“How’d you find the test?” You ask him, taking a sip of your coffee.
He shrugs, “It was fine.”
“You must be very smart. You’re at the top of our class.”
He blushes and shrugs once more, “I don’t know. It’s just not too hard for me.”
The conversation dies down before you head over to the counter and order two sandwiches. Then you return with the two plates and Kento is confused. It’s been a long time since anyone has bought him lunch. He’s really not sure why someone as beautiful as you would even bother with him.
“Do you like the band The Used?”
Kento’s eyes widen, “Y-yeah! You like The Used?”
You nod. “Love ‘em! They are so awesome.”
This begins an acquaintanceship between you and Kento. You spend the lunch hour chatting about your favorite bands, your favorite manga and anime and of course, your favorite tv shows. You both discover very quickly that you have so much in common.
By the time lunch hour is over, you’re both upset that you’ll have to end the conversation. You see Kento in a whole new light, and him…he realizes that there are still some good people in this world.
The next time you two meet, you invite him to your dorm room. He’s never been invited to someone’s dorm since he enrolled, so he’s a little nervous about it. Not to mention the fact that he thinks he’s developing a crush on you. This coupled with the fact that he’s entirely a virgin scares him. Nevertheless, he makes his way to your dorm and knocks on the door. In his other hand is a bag of snacks and drinks to share with you.
“Kento-kun! Nice to see you! Come in,” you greet him in such a sunny way. Your demeanor was beginning to remind him of someone from his past.
He smiles shyly, “Thanks.”
He makes his way into your little space. Despite it being small, you’ve managed to make it feel so nice and cozy. It’s well decorated with band posters, comfy furniture and even a little kitchenette area. He’s surprised that you could make such a small place look so much like a home.
“Sit down,” you motion to the couch. “I’ll get us some cups.”
You return to the living room area of the room and join him on the couch. On your little TV, you have some old anime playing. Kento is immediately sucked in. You find the drinks in his bag and pour the drinks. Your fingers brush against his when you pass him the cup. He shudders from the sudden contact, hiding it by returning his attention to the TV.
“You like this?” You gesture to the TV.
He nods, “Yeah, this is Ninja Scroll, right?”
“Yeah! I didn’t think anyone was still interested in this sort of stuff.”
You and Kento begin a conversation about anime and the movie that’s playing. You both can’t stop talking to each other. It’s just like the conversation continues to flow so naturally between the two of you. The more you conversed., the more you found yourself liking him. He’s cute, knowledgeable and not like a lot of the other guys you’ve met.
As the conversation dies down, both of you sit in a comfortable semi-silence. The movie comes to a point where the romance is noticeable. You feel your heart pumping a little faster when you look at Kento again.
He’s blushing as his eyes lock with yours. He’s never even kissed before, but he’s not stupid. He knows where you want to take this relationship, but he’s so damn scared to fuck it up. There’s got to be some sort of false confidence he could display.
Yet the minute your soft lips press against his, he knows you’re going to be able to suss out his inexperience within seconds. He doesn’t know how to kiss you back, so he sits there stunned. His hands are shaking as you sit even closer to him. And then when you pull away, you notice the look on his face.
“Shit, I am so sorry, Kento. I thought…well, I thought maybe you wanted to make-out.”
Kento’s cheeks burn even more, “I-I do, I just… Idon’tknowhowto.”
You can barely make out what he’s just said. But the sentiment is there and you pick it apart. He’s never made out before. Your brain turns this information over a few times and then it clicks. That was probably his first kiss. You begin to blush and apologize profusely.
“I am so sorry, I thought that maybe…”
Then he surprises you. He kisses you. It’s sloppy and harsh, but you appreciate it all the same. Your hand reaches out to cup his face, and he shudders again. You’re so soft and you smell so good and the feeling of your lips on his makes his heart race. When he pulls away, he’s the one apologizing.
“Don’t even say you’re sorry. That was a sweet kiss.”
Then the two of you turn to face each other. The tension could be cut with a knife. You reach out to cup his face again, pulling him even closer. His hands shake as he tries to caress you, but he’s just not even sure what to do. You lead him through another kiss, this time you deepen it just a bit more.
His fists stay clenched at his side for the first part of this kiss, then you gently reach out to intertwine your fingers with his. The minute you do this, he melts into the kiss.
Then you pull away, leaning your forehead against his. Your hands are so soft against his face. He nuzzles his face into your palm before he leans in once more. This time, Kento takes the lead which surprises you. He pins you down on the couch with his body weight.
The kisses that follow are so tentative and slow. He’s learning how to be less sloppy and more precise. He’s gaining confidence the more you two explore, and soon you feel his hands on your sides. He caresses you so softly, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away and end up being some figment of his imagination.
“You’re a good kisser,” you compliment him when you both pull away to breathe.
“T-thanks…you were my first.”
You cup his cheeks, “I know that, baby.”
Then your lips meet in another sweet kiss. But this time you surprise him by gliding your tongue along his bottom lip. Kento freezes for a moment, then he parts his lips.
‘So soft, so sweet…tastes so good.’ His mind is racing with thoughts like this. ‘Wanna taste her even more…’
Your tongues rub and roll together sensually. Soon you feel him grinding against you and you notice just how hard he is. His erection is poking against your thigh. And as much as you want to keep going, you think it’s probably for the best that you pace these things out.
So you pull away, leaving Kento panting and looking so dazed. He’s so sweet like this. This is the cutest look on his face you have ever seen. His lips try to chase yours a little, but you pull back just enough. Then you caress his cheek.
“Let’s slow this down, yeah?”
He swallows hard. “Oh uhm…yeah okay.”
You notice his disappointment, “I just don’t want you to rush into this. Let’s make this something special,”
He finally nods and smiles. His heart feels full of affection for you. This was exactly what he needed after all the trauma in his life. You were truly someone who cared and you were looking out for him.
You kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry. I really like you. I’m not kicking you out.”
He smiles shyly, “Okay cool. Can we maybe cuddle?”
You wrap your arms around him and bring him even closer. His head rests on your chest and you two fall into the blissful happiness of cuddles.
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mavrintarou · 2 years ago
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[3:19 PM] - Suna Rintarou
Gotta head out - be back later to edit... or not. Enjoy!
Warning: smut . Aside from volleyball, Rintarou was naturally gifted with the camera.
He had captured some of the most exquisite and breathtaking photographs of Y/n, making it look like they were professional shots.
He also possessed a collection of the most embarrassing shots, which he kept strictly to himself. There were also a few special ones that were meant for his eyes only, capturing intimate moments between them.
He was a very active Instagramer – posting quite frequently for his million followers, but he kept his relationship out of public eyes.
When Rintarou created a TikTok account, his followers grew by the day.
He would capture a wide range of videos, from documenting his volleyball training sessions and games to showcasing the delicious lunches Y/n packed for him. He even recorded moments of making his coffee, creating a collection of glimpses into his daily life.
Each time he makes a video, Y/n gets a notification, and she entertains herself with them.
“My baby made me some Korean food today,” he sniffs his bento, groaning. “I told her I’ve been craving some Korean food, and… she loves me so much.” He stuffs his mouth with a Kimbap. “You guys ask if she makes me lunch every day – yes. Does she not work or… is she a stay-at-home partner?” He shoves another Kimbap into his mouth. “She’s definitely an independent woman who earns her own money and won’t allow me to support her like the best boyfriend I am…” he narrows his eyes directly at the camera, “she always watches my videos, so – please tell her that it she needs to let me treat her like a queen.”
Y/n burst out laughing and clicked on the comments.
Suna’s girlfriend, please allow Rintarou to treat you like a queen!
Can we get a glimpse of her?
She is so lucky!
You’re so lucky; your food looks so good!
Y/n narrows her eyes at the first comment.
You’re so hot, Rin; please fuck me!
Y/n clicked on the person’s profile of a young woman.
Curiosity got Y/n going through Rin’s other videos to view the comments. She saw the same account commenting on every one of Rin’s videos, saying something inappropriate.
.
Rin checked his phone as he slipped his shirt on.
He was still waiting for a message from Y/n.
Though it wasn’t unusual, it felt odd that she didn’t text or react to his video.
She always commented or reacted to his video.
Did she not see it?
But it clearly said Read 2:35 PM underneath the message.
Without wasting another moment, he made his way toward their apartment, a sense of urgency guiding his steps. Sitting behind the wheel, waiting at a red light, he drummed his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. The unsettling feeling gnawed at him, the sense that something was amiss between them weighing heavily on his mind.
While they didn’t frequently engage in conflicts, he made a conscious effort to minimize arguments, fully aware that disagreements are a natural part of any relationship. Over the course of their four-year journey together, they encountered only a few instances where tension escalated. However, despite needing some time to cool off, they always found a way to come together and discuss their concerns. They were committed to understanding each other’s perspective and exploring ways to grow and improve for the sake of their relationship.
And have hot makeup sex.
Rintarou jams the button to his floor in the elevator impatiently. Of all days, it seemed like the elevator door was being an asshole and taking its merry time to get him up to his floor.
“Y/n!” He shouts once he enters his apartment.
“Yes?” her sweet voice calls from the kitchen.
She doesn’t sound upset or mad, he thought. He quickly toes off his shoes and drops his gym bag in the living room to head to the kitchen. His heart relaxes a bit, finding her in the kitchen preparing dinner.
But he was still a little nervous and wasn’t entirely convinced she wasn’t upset.
He goes to wrap his arms around her waist, kissing her cheek and resting his chin on her shoulder. “How was your day?”
“Good,” she answered, “you?”
“Tired,” he answered as usual, “but a little… nervous.”
She finished whatever she was doing before washing her hands, the both of them doing a funny dance towards the sink because once Rin clings on to Y/n, it is no use trying to get him off.
“Go wash your hands and sit down; let’s eat.” She hears his sigh before he lets her go, and she watches over her shoulder as he pouts towards the sink to wash his hands and takes a seat in his usual spot.
Y/n leans against the counter, watching him zone out sitting there. Rintarou may be hard to read on the court, but Y/n could read him anytime.
Something weighed heavily on him, and his emotions spilled out much like a toddler’s when they couldn’t express their feelings.
He doesn’t realize Y/n has yet to set the table, “why are you nervous?”
He gazed up at her with a lost expression, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t react to my video,” he murmured, seeking an answer with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
Y/n arched an eyebrow at him, suppressing a chuckle. “What?”
“You didn’t react to my video today… did you not watch it?” he inquired with a  tinge of concern. “Did I say too much in the video about you?” The renowned and notorious Middle Blocker for EJP Raijin resembled an anxious child, desperately seeking reassurance if he had done the right thing.
Y/n furrowed her brows, a realization dawning upon her as she acknowledged her lack of response to his video. “Oh, Rin,” she chuckled softly, moving closer and straddling his lap. Tenderly cupping his face, she pressed her lips against his pout, kissing it away. “I did watch it, but I must have gotten carried away reading the comments,” she explained, her tone apologetic. Her eyes narrowed as she mentioned one particular fan. “There was this one fan who was quite vulgar towards you,” she continued, her voice hinting disapproval. “I didn’t like it one bit.”
Something flickered in his eyes, and Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes, anticipating his reaction. “Are you… jealous?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.
There it is.
“No, I’m not. I don’t need to be jealous when I already have you.”
Rin kisses her throat and nips the skin there. “You’re right; I’m yours, all yours, just as you’re mine, right?”
“Hmm,” Y/n runs her fingers through his hair before gripping a fist full and tilting his head back. “All mine.”
His eyes widen for a split second before they squeeze shut when Y/n trails her tongue along his jaw and down his neck. She was not one to mark him in prominent areas, but tonight, she showed no mercy to his neck.
“Y/n…” Rin groans ten minutes later. His hands grip her hips, desperately guiding her to rock herself over his lap. “’nough…”
She pulls back and admires her work; now she knows how Rin feels. She leans to peck his lips and lifts herself, “all right, let’s eat!”
“What!” His grip on her hips tightens, “no way, you can’t leave me like that.” He looks down at his crotch; the outlining of his thick cock is visible against his joggers.
“But… our food will get cold?”
Rintarou chuckles, “no way, baby, food can wait… not me.”
Y/n squeal when he pushes her onto the table, grabs the end of her yoga pants, and tugs them off in one go. He pulls her panties aside and pulls cock out enough to slowly thrust into her pussy.
“Ah… Rin,” she moans, gripping the edge of the table. “Fuck… yes…”
His thrusts are slow and deep. “You had me worrying for no reason…” he leans over and grips her jaw to kiss her deeply, “I’ll show them – “ he speeds up his thrusts, “I’ll show them I’m yours… only yours….”
All the rubbing and rocking over him stimulated her, and Y/n was close until Rin pulled out of her. “Rin?”
He maneuvers her onto her front side and smacks her ass before getting down on one knee. He pulls her panties off and smothers his face into her core, slurping, sucking, and biting.
“Rin!”
He squeezes her cheeks hard, taking a bite on each side before standing back up, “need to mark you as mine too…” he guides his cock back home and thrusts fast and hard.
Their kitchen echoes with skin slapping skin and the kitchen table squeaking.
“I’m so… I’m so close baby…” Rin groans, and seconds later, hips jerking and cock spasming as he cums inside.
Rin withdraws; his eyes are fixated and anticipating as his cum drips out.
A minute later, after catching each other’s breath, Rin whispered, “baby?”
Y/n turns to look over her shoulders, clearly in bliss. “Yes?”
“Bed?”
“Yes, please…”
.
“Today, my baby packed me my favorite… jelly fruit sticks!”
Y/n sipped her morning coffee and tapped the heart on the video before clicking on the comment button.
Those are my favorites too!
You’re like an excited schoolboy about their lunches!
Is no one going to talk about it?...
Suna-san… what are those marks on your neck?
Are those… hickies?
Those are definitely hickies… wow… his girlfriend is kinky…
. . .
@hellatrashdontask @queenelleee @wrongimagine @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @satoritendoucultsacrifice @yourgonvermnethooker @littlemochi @cloud-lyy @pana-dolle @basmamme @haitanifxn @itsroseally @warrior-of-justice @jmnfilter @captainchrisstan @omissanitizerlol
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holyparadisenightmare · 11 months ago
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It had only been a few days since your partner left for their business trip, but you were already going stir crazy. You were spending the whole day tempering your ravenous, insatiable libido. Every inch of you boiled. Toys refused to satisfy.
Climbing into the shower, it was hard not to be turned on just looking at yourself. Your erect nipples, idle playthings for your horny mind. Minutes in and all that work cleaning yourself would be undone. So you'd rinse and repeat.
In your room you found your partner's favourite set of lingerie: a matching set of black, lacey panties and a bra. It had only been a few days since you last wore them, but you could already feel yourself spill out more than usual. What were once large, but perky tits were now heavy hanging breasts that sat snug, snugger than usual, in that delicate fabric.
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Nights turned to days as you roamed your house alone. But it wasn't long before your concerns were vindicated. Your breasts had gotten larger. In fact, they continued to grow. Veins pushed their way to the surface as the skin around your tits stretched thinner.
But it wasn't the only thing growing.
You honestly thought it was just bloat. Anxious that a few days of unaccompanied eating and wanking had you gaining weight, your belly surged forward from where you were used to. But after two weeks and the bloat refusing to pass, you knew more was going on.
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Throwing on a sports bra, you tried to hide your growing tits and belly. A grey, oversized tracksuit followed over and with a pair of sunglasses the look was complete as you venture out into the world to find some clarity.
You arrived at a pharmacy. The woman at the counter greeted you as you walked in. You smiled politely but bit your lip as you saw her. She was short, a little shorter than you, chunky with a black bob. Thick in all the right ways.
Terrified, you tried to hide your arrousal and your belly.
You smiled back and asked "Can i get a pregnancy test?" your words fell away as your mumble through the last of your sentence.
"I'm sorry, i didn't quite catch that." She said with a smile that said 'i heard you but I want to make you say it out loud.'
Your face was bright red. The woman behind the counter carelessly looking you over like a piece of meat. "A pregnancy test. I need one." You conceed, pointing past her to the display behind the counter.
"Oh, I'm sorry miss." She snarked, reaching back to grab one, "I didn't think someone so far along would needs that."
Your face and pussy burnt. "H-how dare you!" You half moan at her, looking around to see if anyone had heard. You were both alone.
But before you could break into a full tyrade, you looked down at yourself for the first time since you stepped into the store. You had grown since the drive here. And you were huge. The sweat shirt did nothing to hide your size, the front pulled taught by the size of your growing belly.
You cried, "Oh my god!" Before running... well, waddling to the bathroom. You tripped and stumbled as you adjusted to your new centre of gravity. You locked the door behind you and peeled back your slowly shrinking sweat shirt.
You looked full term. 9 months pregnant. Your belly button had popped. Your ass had widened, and your belly grew so naturally from your plump form you wondered how you had ever looked without it.
As you raised your shirt to reveal yourself your hand brushed against your breasts. Its swollen flesh threatened to spill out and over your tight sports bra. You carefully pulled the bra up and over, careful not to put too much pressure on your very sore breasts. Regardless, each nipple slowly trickled beads of milk down your body.
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Your pussy craved satisfaction. It ate at you, filling your mind with fog. You were one part petrified, but 9 parts severely turned on. And what little scared you onlu turnes you on more. What if someone caught you?
With a hand you slid up and squeezes one of your engorged breasts. Milk splattered across the mirror. You moaned as you watched your reflection play with herself.
But a knock at the door brought you crashing back to earth. "Ma'am?" The clerk called from behind the door.
"Y-yeah?" Your voice hinted at the pleasure you're so desperate to return to.
"I hate to bother you. But that stall is for paying customers only. And, like I said. I dont think you need this test."
"I can't come out right now." You said back.
"Do you need help?" She asked, genuinely concerned.
You hesitsted for a moment.
"Can you get some oil, some napkins and a clean shirt? I'll pay for them!"
You could hear her voice catch at the strangle request. "O-Okay?"
Eventually she returned. You unlocked the door a crack and let her pass the items through. But in the corner of your eye, in the reflection of the window, you see her face looking back. She saw you, tits, belly and all. Her face turned bright red as she slams the backroom door shut.
Flustered your deslerately scramble to clean yourself up. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You hurridly cry.
Her voice turned into a long and uncertain "uuuhhhhh" as she tried to find the words to describe how she's feeling. "The ummm. The bathroom is kinda gross. Did yo-did you want to use the staff room?" She finally utters. "Its just me here. Perfectly safe."
You sigh. Tired, hungry and heavy, and in desperste need of being milked, you agree. Slipping the white shirt she gave you on, you couldn't deny it left little to the imagination.
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Quickly you open the door and slip awkwardly through the pharmacy. Your belly and tits swinging as you do. The wet stains around your nipples getting larger, revealing your dark areolas underneath. After what felt like an eternity of exposure you cross the threshold and slip into the backroom of the store. The clerk quickly closing in behind.
She pulls up a large office chair and gestures you to sit down. You happil oblige, resting your monsterous belly on your lap and your leaking breasts on your belly. The sigh of relief came involentarily as you thank her.
Her smile turned from carring to ceniving as she locks the door behind her. "Now we're alone, I need you to take that top off."
"E-excuse m-me?"
The pharmacist drops down to her knees and begins kissing your enormous belly. "Big girl, you're going nowhere like this. I heard the noises you made. And i know you think i'm cute. Come on." She says, lifting your struggling shirt and sweezing oil into her hands. "Be a good girl for me."
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You couldn't help but yelp at her touch, but something about her stern stare made you melt. Between your partner being gone and your sudden pregnancy, you were keen for something certain. Your body relaxed as she went.
She lifted your shirt off completely and exposed your collosal breasts. Rounded, swolen with milk, yet so large they flopped to either side of your mamoth belly. Pinned beneath it, stuck in this chair, the pharmacist had her way with you.
She dragged a tongue up your belly, around your breasts, lapping up stray milk. She sent shivered down your spine. Thrulls of pleasure followed too as she latched onto your swolen nipple. She sucked. Your nipples, raw and wanting, felt a wash of instant relief as you felt your warm milk release from its prison.
Your stray hand reached low, past your belly, in search of your pussy. You were dripping wet. You dove deep into yourself to lube up your finger and began rubbing your clit. You moaned as the gorgeous woman sucked away at your breasts, still rubbing lotion on your belly.
You quickly fell into the pit of pleasure. Your pace was steady and you begged her to keep going. With your other hand you took hold of your spare and swollen tit and squeezed. A yelp jumped from your lips. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your sprayed milk across the back room.
It wasn't long before the pleasure built to a breaking point. You tried to hunch forward but your belly got in the way. You let go of your tit and gripped the desk beside you as hard as you could as you reach climax.
For the first time in weeks you finally felt satisfied. Panting and sweating you look over at your new friend with a greatful smile. She returns the feeling.
But as you stand to leave your legs give out. Not just regular jelly legs, you look down and realise you've only gotten larger. Your belly stretches out to your knees, and your breasts fall down by your side. You can see them swelling with fresh milk. Your thighs have grown and your fat ass is stuck in the chair.
You look up helplessly at the pharmacist as she kneels down between your legs and vanished behind your belly.
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starstruckgrrl · 1 year ago
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MORE TAMAKI🙏🙏🙏
who am i to deny you 🫡
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ꕤ*. synopsis: tamaki doesn’t do so well at hero events, but he’s grounded with you there. not to mention you give him the perfect motivation!
↳ ♡₊˚.warnings: smut, car sex, he says “i love you”, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, sub!tamaki, pet names, established relationship, lil bit of edging, cute tamaki naps for aftercare :3
a/n: sorry if the way i capitalize some stuff has changed, i want to make it easier to read!! i really hope you like it, give me some feedback or suggestions pls!!
ever since he’s met you, tamaki has been doing a lot better at handling any event that comes his way. his friends take notice, praising him for sticking around “this long!”
he owes his success to you, who he will often scamper off to. you’re always with him at every event, keeping him grounded and confident(ish).
usually, he’ll take you everywhere with him, making you become his bodyguard against awkward conversations or slightly passive aggressive behavior. however, you know that it is good for him to do some things on his own so he won’t feel so horrible when you’re busy and can’t escort him everywhere.
so the pro-hero Suneater is here, after several minutes of you gently pushing him, at a table with Deku, Dynamight, Lemillion, Red Riot, Nejire Chan, and a few other names from high school. while he does feel much better that nejire and mirio are there with him, the potential comfort he might have had is ruined when everyone delves into questions about his personal life.
tamaki mentally curses mirio, who asks first, “Suneater! i haven’t met that girl you’ve been parading around yet? when will i get to meet her?”
“her name is ——, and you can meet her soon, i guess? she said she would follow me over soon.” tamaki replied.
“she’s very nice, Lemillion! i met her once while getting a drink at an event a week or so ago, and she was nothing but kind!” Deku shot out, happy to have met a nice person.
nejire never passes up an opportunity to talk about something happy, so she began her rambling, “she’s so preeeetty! can you ask her about what products she uses in her hair? does she have extensions? does she wear wigs? if so, where does she get such natural ones?”
the indigo-haired hero you cherished began to sink in his seat, visibly overwhelmed by the onslaught of questions that had begun after the mention of his date, but felt better when he felt your hand pat him on the shoulder.
“hi, baby. are you doing okay?” you asked, loud enough for people sitting near him to hear, but to him nonetheless.
he began to sit up in his seat, the pet name being comforting enough to help him regain some composure, “yes, i’m okay, how are you?”
you gave him a small smile as you sat in your spot next to him, confirming that you were feeling alright.
mirio was the first to speak to you, “are you ——?! i’ve heard so much about you!! well, pieces about you, tamaki is kind of private about your relationship, but pieces nonetheless!!”
“yes, that’s me! it’s lovely to meet tamaki’s best friend!” you replied, recognizing tamaki’s description of his grade-school friend.
“AWWW, Suneater, you’ve told her about me!” mirio shouted.
tamaki smiled up at him, how could he ever think that he wouldn’t tell everyone about the person who motivated him so much?
~
as the evening went on, you had been asked plenty of questions, mainly by nejire. you had no complaints, as you found everyone thoroughly entertaining and sweet.
the whole time, you were keeping physical contact, even in small ways, with tamaki. it was the best way to make sure he knew you were still there for him and thinking about him, even as you conversed with the others.
over time, your small touches turned into something else. clasping his hand turned into rubbing his thigh, slight pokes turned into tracing soft circles on his bicep. the little things meant the world to this man, so you knew he was getting your idea.
about 3 hours in, tamaki’s social battery had been completely sucked dry. he gave you a special look and squeezed your hand twice to let you know he wanted to go, a signal the both of you had come up with.
you cleaned up your area at the table, stacking your used dishes neatly for a waiter/waitress to pick up with ease, and stood up. you patted yourself down as your lover stood up, and you all exchanged goodbyes as the both of you walked out, your arm wrapped around his.
the both of you walked out to the car, and tamaki slid his hand down to your waist and pulled you closer. you were stunned, he rarely initiates things, especially in public.
“tama” you cooed in his ear.
tamaki led you to the backseat of the car, opened the door for you, and sat next to you. he kept the door slightly ajar for what he would call “ventilation” when you questioned him later.
you kissed him first, a small but sweet kiss. your partner, however, kissed you again. longer, deeper. he grabbed you and held you close to him, and he leaned against the back of the seat. he began to unzip his pants when you stopped him.
“are you sure, baby?” you asked, knowing his fear of having all eyes on him.
“yes, i love you too much, please.” he replied, asking you to please continue.
you nodded at him, and got on top of him. you gave him kisses on his neck and bit him softly as you pulled down his pants to let his cock spring out.
you flipped up the dress he bought you special for this event, and moved your underwear to the side. tamaki brought his hand down to rub small circles on your clit, getting you wet for him.
you softly pushed his hand away, then brought yourself up, then down onto his dick. he let out a small whimper and you shushed him, “shh, baby, we don’t want anyone to see, do we?”
tamaki swallowed thickly, and stuttered out, “n-no”
“maybe you’d like that, dirty boy.” you teased, and he whined in response.
you bounced up and down softly on him, the friction of the base of his cock teasing your clit.
then, suddenly, you heard voices outside, a mere 10-15 ft away.
“oh, hey, someone’s car door is open. should we close it?” said one of the voices.
tamaki’s eyes widened, but he never stopped bucking up into you, and you never stopped riding him. he whimpered quietly, and you put your thumb in his mouth to silence him.
“nah, let’s just leave it. someone might be coming back to it in just a minute.” said another voice.
the both of you heard their footsteps trail away, and you looked at each other. tamaki leaned up to kiss you, and you could tell he was getting close. he was rutting into you from below, and it made you giggle.
“don’t cum until i say, tama!” you reprimanded.
he nodded quickly, confirming his submission.
you were also getting close, and tamaki always knew that you should cum first. you slammed down onto him harder, making his tip kiss your cervix every time. his cock was rubbing against a sweet spot inside you the deeper you went, and you came with a moan of his name.
as you were going through the aftershocks of your orgasm, tamaki began to beg.
“please, can i cum? please.” he whimpered out, his legs shaking slightly.
you kissed his forehead and gave him permission, and his cock twitched as he finally let go of the orgasm he had been holding. his cum warmed your insides and gave you an extra, satisfying feeling as it began to leak down.
“i’ll drive us back home, sweetheart, you rest. i know you’re tired” you told him as you slowly got up, grabbing a blanket that rested in the back pocket of the car seat, special for any sleepy car rides.
you laid tamaki down in the backseat and covered him in the fluffy blanket. you adjusted his pants and his underwear to make him as comfortable as possible.
you got out, adjusted your dress, and closed the car door. you got into the front seat and turned the car on and the heating up so your partner would be cozy on the ride home.
~
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