#i’ll say the writers really fucked up with that confession

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

stay for a fortnight

a/n: as promised, here is part three of the bodyguard!bucky story ৎ୭

summary: “yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, staying for two weeks at a chateau in the south of france, forced proximity, bucky is a shameless hoe and we love him for it, kissing, love confession, shower sex, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, gaping, handjob, fingering, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 3870

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“I’m sorry, darling. I tried to get out of it, I really did, even for just one day, but I can’t join you at the chateau this time.” 

“It’s alright, mom,” you exhaled, “I understand.”

Soothingly rubbing her palm down the length of your arm, she suggested, “well, since it won’t be as crowded down there, why don’t you stay a little longer? Maybe a proper break might cheer you up. Maybe one extra week?”

“Actually, two weeks of alone time is just what I need right now,” a faint smile managed to emerge on your lips, “thank you.”

“Great! You go and pack your things, I’ll let Barnes know to do the same,” she announced, and squashed the brief relief you felt just as soon as it had washed over you. 

It felt like ages that Bucky made you sit and wait in the car while he went around the estate to do his initial sweep, making sure it was safe and secure before you got to enter. 

The tenseness that still floated ethereally in the air between you didn’t fade away when he finally came back to crack open the door for you to exit the vehicle. 

“So,” you exhaled once the two of you had crossed the threshold of the chateau, “my room is the one upstairs and at the end of the hallway, yours is wherever the fuck you want, there are like a million bedrooms in this place.”

Your footsteps echoed against the elegantly tiled floors as you twisted to check that he even heard you. He had, seeing as his gaze was still ever glued upon you, though he didn’t offer you a reply. 

Shifting the large bag that hung from your shoulder, the luggage that you stubbornly hadn’t let him carry, you paused just before your stride began to ascend the grand staircase in the middle of the foyer.

“Also, I think we should come up with some ground rules.” 

Your bodyguard’s dark eyebrows then crinkled as he half scoffed, “ground rules?”

“Yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

Exhaling slowly, he simply stated, “whatever you say.”

Before you then began to drift up the wide steps, you cast a glance over your shoulder and said, “meet me in the kitchen in ten.”

“Alright,” you breathed, leaning against the cold marble of the kitchen island as you stared down at the small list you’d scribbled down on a stray post-it you had found in the bottom of your bag, slightly crumbled and with a doodle on the other side, “first rule I’d like to instate is an obvious one, but still needs to be set and stone in order for us to be here together. We can’t sleep together.”

When you heard a low sigh seep from Bucky’s lips, your eyes snapped up to glare at him. 

“Hey! Take this fucking seriously, okay?”

“I am,” he assured you, though his tone indicated the complete opposite of his words. 

“So, rule number two is in prolonging of the first one, which is that we can’t do anything that’ll make us want to sleep with each other,” you cast your glance back down to your messy handwriting, “two A, no swimming in the pool, two B, no nudity, two C, definitely no drinking, and two D, no staring at me,” your eyes flickered back up to catch his blue ones, “especially not like that,” you swiftly gestured to the way he gazed at you.

“Like what?” he didn’t change the manner he looked at you. 

“Like you’ve seen me naked!” 

Your shriek unfortunately only won you the glimpse of a smug smirk upon Bucky’s lips, one you swiftly tried to ignore. 

“Okay,” you blinked in an effort to redirect your attention back to the task at hand and not the butterflies that now soared in your stomach and made you slightly dizzy, “rule number three is technically also under the subsection of number two, but we can’t eat our meals together. No candle-lit dinners, not even a snack.”

Budding in, the man on the other side of the kitchen counter then said, “can I say something?”

With a soft sigh, you mustered the courage to look up at him, “shoot.”

“Do you wanna decide what I wear as well while you're at it? Maybe also when I’m allowed to breathe?”

His jest didn’t as much as conjure a twitch at the corners of your lips as your gaze simply narrowed in his direction, “are you mocking me?”

Boldly leaning his forearms down against the tabletop, he stared back at you, “so what if I am?” though when you assumed he was kidding and you let out a groan, you heard him go on, “all I’m saying is that maybe we don’t set a list of hard rules just to avoid each other. We seem to do just fine when we toss them all out the window.”

“I'm sorry, wait, what?” you blinked. 

“We’ve got two weeks here, so why don’t we make them count?” he shrugged. 

Mouth agape, you dumbfoundedly stared back at him, “you’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” calmly, his head tilted slightly as he held your stunned gaze, “just think about it.”

The sun only barely managed to set before you felt yourself crack and give in to your bodyguard’s offer. 

Storming into his room, his dark brows only got the chance to rise slightly in astonishment before you nearly tackled him to the ground, throwing your arms around his bulky frame and crashing your lips against his before any of you could say even a single word. 

You didn’t try to hide the raw emotions that came pouring out, causing your efforts to be rough and desperate, though it didn’t take long before Bucky’s touch mirrored the feral nature of your own, leaving you dizzy as you eventually withdrew from the starved kiss, clutching onto his shirt for support as you breathlessly ordered. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you tilted your head back to let the drizzle of water rinse out the shampoo from your locks. 

The door to the bathroom was wide open, so when you twisted your form to face the showerhead, you didn’t notice as your faithful protector stopped in his slow tracks right on the other side of the threshold. His eyes trailed down your glistening spine till the sight of you caused him to crumble completely and take advantage of the gift that had just fallen into his lap.  

A low purr vibrated within your chest as the warm water rained down upon you, though suddenly, it wasn’t just the hot shower embracing your form, as a pair of burly arms snaked their way around you. Leaning back into his bulky frame, you caught sight of a crumbled bundle of his clothes tossed on the other side of the fogged-up shower door. A blissful hum crackled within you like a roiling fire as you felt his lips begin to plant soft pecks along the line of your shoulders. 

Though as his touch began to bloom and wander boldly down your frame, a gentle hiss tore through your lazy smile as his fingers came into contact and brushed over your core. 

Nipping at your neck, he murmured, “oh, do you want me to stop?” not removing his metal hand, though halted the pattern he had begun to draw over your petals. 

He already knew full well just how sore and swollen you still were. It would have been impossible not to be after the vigorous activities you’d kept the past week busy with.  

Digging your digits into his forearms to keep you in his embrace, you shot back hazily over your shoulder, “don’t you dare,” before a whimper rippled out of you as Bucky once again rolled your puffy pearl beneath his steely touch. 

“How is it that we’ve already done this for a whole week, yet it only feels like a day?” his voice tickled the shell of your ear as you leaned more of your weight back into him. 

“Really? Because I don’t believe you’d be able to fuck me in a day as many times as you have this past week,” you jested through a whimper, “even for a guy with your stamina.” 

“It’s a good thing it’s just the two of us here… imagine if we hadn’t been alone, if it hadn’t been me walking by and seeing you seduce me like the wicked temptress that you are?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort,” you chuckled airily. 

“Really?” he teased just as his touch did, “leaving the door open, that wasn’t on purpose?” 

“No, I swear,” you then tilted your head and admitted, “at least not this time…”

“You mean the time back a month ago when didn’t close the door while taking a bath,” he murmured casually, “then called out to me, asking if I could fetch you a towel, and I had to pretend not to hear you?”

Spinning around at once, your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline as you blinked, “you knew?” 

“Baby, you never had to play that hard just to torture me,” he smiled down at you, “that move was downright cruel,” before he reached for the knob and switched off the water.

A squeal bubbled out of you as Bucky then suddenly plucked you up into his arms, wasting no time before he stepped out of the shower, only pausing for a beat in the comparatively more spacious area, though only in order to manhandle you further and toss you over his shoulder before his feet began to shift once more, leaving wet prints in their wake on the cool tile as he strode towards the exit. 

Strung over his shoulder as if you were a wet piece of laundry and he was the line, you giggled, “wait!” and just managed to catch one of the fluffy towels hanging on the hook he passed. Blinking down at the floor as he crossed the threshold, you watched as droplets of water dribbled down from you both and left a trail on the herringbone flooring, “you’re dripping, you’re gonna get the whole house wet!”

Landing his wide palm in a wet smack across your ass, he chuckled, “I thought that was my line, sweetheart,” teasing about the manner your pussy drooled for him, already leaking down your thighs at this point. 

Soon, the long hallway disappeared from your periphery as Bucky entered the nearest of the many bedrooms, though you barely had time to register your new surroundings before the world fell out from under you and he plopped you down on the bed in the middle of the room. 

Standing his ground and looming above the giggle that was your horizontal form, he stole the towel from your grasp before dragging the terrycloth across your skin. As he dried off the droplets of water that clung to your body, a handful of pecks adorned your flesh as well, often shadowing the cloth. 

Gazing up at him with smile-crinkled eyes, you stretched your feet up in the air, against his torso, and rested them against his wide shoulders as he briefly paused to dry himself off as well. But as he returned to sweep the towel across the last remaining spot upon your body that still glistened from the shower, the peck he pressed to the valley between your boobs was swiftly halted as your grasp found his jaw and you guided his face up towards your own. 

As you brought his lips to your own, you swiftly felt the mattress dent and ripple as he crawled up to hover above you. 

“Ahh, fuck…” he then groaned against your lips as your hand snaked down between your bodies and began to stroke his throbbing girth. 

Tossing the towel to the side, a gasp soon tumbled out past your lips as Bucky’s palms found your tits in a gentle squeeze. Your pebbly nipples stood up to the challenge as he swept a knuckle teasingly across one of them before capturing it in a pinch and tugging slightly to summon a sinful sound deep within your body. 

As your fist slowly twisted up and down his hard length, his close proximity caused your own knuckles to brush across your clit at every heated pass. Almost unconsciously, you tilted your hips slightly and nudged the bulbous tip of him through your glistening petals, the pleasure of which caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

But just before he could take the initiative and catch your fleeting invitation to let him inside, you caught him off guard and suddenly rolled him onto his back with your frame plastered atop of him. 

Propping yourself up slightly, you grasped his fat girth before slowly sinking down upon it, “o-oh my god,” couldn’t help but breathlessly tumble out of your lungs as a flat palm came down to brace on his broad chest and your thighs gently quivered at the sudden stretch of him. It was a few times that you had to pause on your slow journey down just in order to catch your breath, as his intimidating size caused you to question yet again how you’d ever been able to take it before. 

“Atta girl,” his grip dug into your hips when you slowly began to move, “just like that…” though you still couldn’t persuade your pelvis to sink all the way down to meet his own. 

As you found a gentle roll, one of Bucky’s palms scooped up past your waist and caught one of your tits. Your back arched slightly as he played with your boobs, his hand travelling back and forth as you rode him, though a shuttering moan rippled through your body as he landed a gentle tap down upon one of them, a shiver swiftly trickling down your spine at the spark.

But just as you thought the bodyguard beneath you was blissfully enjoying the show and letting you do all the work yourself, his hips then abruptly offered you a greedy buck.  

“Bucky!” you nearly screamed as he buried the last few inches that you had so fiercely struggled to conquer on your own, “that’s–, I–, holy fuck!” 

You hadn’t been able to take all of him on your own, so he just gave you the little nudge that you needed, even if that nudge thoroughly punched all of the oxygen out of your lungs, he still made you take every staggering inch.

“Come on, don’t stop now,” a chuckle escaped him at your reaction before his palm came down upon your ass to get you back to work, “make yourself cum on this cock.” 

Shakily, you tried to pick up your rhythm once more, dropping your hips to meet his, though he couldn’t remain still for long before he began to fuck up into your warmth. Heavy taps echoed throughout the room as his balls slapped against your slick skin at his efforts. As he met your movements halfway and drove his cock much deeper than you could muster on your own, your left hand drifted down to strum your buzzing clit. 

Already dangerously close to the edge, your hazy gaze flickered down to watch not only how your pussy magically swallowed his big dick, but your eyes also caught sight of the dull bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, making your brain feel even more fuzzy than before. As your glance flickered back to try and catch his, you found his own stare to still be fiercely locked on the same spot where yours had just strayed from, watching intently at just how deep he went, nearly rearranging your guts just to mould you perfectly to fit his shape. 

When you finally reached your peak, your cunt nearly choked his cock as your silky walls clambered down on him, a small accompaniment of sinful gush squirted around him and drizzled to soak the sheets below. 

While you were still foggy with your eyes barely open, Bucky rolled you both over, his dick still throbbing deep within you. Welcoming the softness of the bed beneath you with a gentle sigh, he then captured your lips in a kiss and swallowed the whimpers that promptly bubbled up as he began to fuck you once more, offering you long, deep strokes that sank you so far into the mattress that you began to wonder if you might rock through it completely.  

“O-oh, so fucking d-deep,” you blubbered. A rhythmic cry forced its way out of your lungs each and every time the tip of him kissed your cervix, nearly bullying the deepest parts of you in a manner that made you feel like the wobbliest of jellies. 

“You scared I’m gonna break you, baby?” his soft lips ghosted against your cheekbone. 

“I–, maybe,” you admitted, blinking up at the way his frame eclipsed your vision, “but it feels so good, I don’t care if you do,” though your confession ended up not only exclusively being about the purely physical entanglement you currently found yourselves in. 

A deep growl rumbled in his chest as his hands scooped down beneath your bottom, before he let himself manhandle you, repeatedly dragging your hips up to grant him a better angle for him to fuck into. A bit of drool trickled out the corner of your mouth and found the pillow below your head when his cock soon throbbed within you, pumping you full of his hot load. 

When he pulled back out of your warmth, your pussy didn’t get to stay empty for long as his cool metal fingers swiftly took his dick’s place. Plugging you full, his frame shifted slightly to grant him a good view of the leaky mess he’d made of you. As he pushed his cum deeper inside of you, scooping it back in as his fingers forced it out, he increasingly added more and more digits till the amount matched the girth that had just split you apart, before he withdrew them all at once and grinned proudly at the way he made your hole gape slightly for him, before winking back to a closed as if he’d never even tickled you before. 

It didn’t take long with all of his molten motions before your pussy wept for him once more, a display he only drew out as his fingers stayed hooked inside of you while his other palm came down to offer your puffy pearl a few taps. 

A hazy giggle was bubbling out of your shaky frame as his attentive touch finally faded and his kisses fluttered back up your body till your arms wrapped around him and drew him in close. 

As you layed there in the plush bed and stared up at the ceiling, you didn’t know yet that the man sprawled out beside you was awake as well. 

You just couldn’t find rest no matter how hard you tried, for how could you as tonight was your last night in the chateau. 

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, grabbed your long robe from the armchair it was draped over, and tip-toed towards the wide French doors that lead out onto a balcony. Pushing the doors open, a mild gust of wind rustled the robe as you fastened the tie around your waist and crossed over the threshold. 

Though you knew that you didn’t have any other choice, the thought of returning home in the morning still broke your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was burst that dreamlike bubble that you and your bodyguard had built together and go back to a world completely desaturated of colour. 

Not only had you made the grave mistake of repeating history, but putting it under such an intense microscope didn’t help matters either, as well as your feelings, those having become terrifyingly clear over the past two weeks. 

“Hey,” you suddenly heard the doors behind you creak and you tore your hazy gaze away from the dark gardens below to spot Bucky gently leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hi,” you breathed, keeping a flat palm on the ivy-covered stone railing as you twisted your frame slightly to glance at him, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake,” he shrugged slightly before joining you outside in the pale moonlight, “you okay?”

“Yeah…” you sighed, casting your gaze back upon the woods blooming in the distance. 

“…well, that didn’t sound very convincing,” he chuckled gently as he settled in beside you, leaning both his forearms against the half-wall, “do you wanna talk about it?”

Sucking in a breath, your eyes flickered over to catch his own, “I just–…” you hesitantly began before admitting, “I don’t wanna go back to Paris…” 

“Why not?” though a crinkle found his brow, his expression still softened, “is there something going on with you and your mother?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head, “I just don’t wanna go home yet…” staring at him a moment longer, you then heard yourself confess, “…I–… I don’t want this to end yet…”

Watching closely as his lungs expanded with oxygen, for the first time you witnessed the gruff man look utterly and completely stunned, simply staring down at you with bated breath. 

Parting your lips once more, you nearly whispered, “…I don’t wanna go back to pretending that I’m not in love with you…” 

Bucky didn’t say a word, only continued to stare as he tried to comprehend the truth you’d just professed.

“I love you,” you gathered up the nerve to spit out, “I love you now… I loved you this morning… I loved you after you’d probably only worked at the embassy for a few weeks…” your vision became blurred as tears began to form in your eyes and you continued to babble, “and I don’t think those feelings are planning on changing anytime soon, so it only seemed fair for you to be aware of that for when I ask you in two seconds if you wanna keep this thing between us going, because I do, though probably for different reasons than you–, not that I don’t enjoy that part, you are an incredible lay, I just didn’t think it would be fair for you to be unaware of the feelings I've developed for you, because I don’t know how to ignore them anymore, and–, oh my god, please just say something, I feel like I arrived naked at school or something–”

But before you could ramble any further, Bucky seized your face and fiercely pressed his lips to your own. A shiver ran down your spine and nearly caused your knees to buckle as he kissed you, and when he withdrew, slowly pulling back, he found your stary gaze and uttered, “…I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he then sucked in a breath before confessing, “because I–… Y/n, I love you too…” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[thebigbadbatswife]

Morning Glory

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Summary - It’s the morning after you and Bruce confessed your love for one another and there’s only one thing on his mind.

Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Established Relationship, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger Woman, Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Morning Sex, Fluff, Bruce's POV

A/N - Part of the same 'verse as Sippin' on Sunshine but both fics are complete standalones from each other so you don't have to read that one first.

Word Count - 2.7k

When Bruce wakes up, he finds you already wide awake. You’re sitting up in bed, scrolling through your phone like he might read the newspaper at the kitchen table. He lays there for a moment, simply admiring your sleepy, dishevelled state. You’ll resist him if he ever says it outloud, insisting that you don’t because how can you when your hair is a mess and you have no makeup on, but he thinks you look absolutely radiant. 

“We made the front page again,” you tell him. Not even bothering to look up from the screen in front of you.

He sighs as he rolls onto his back and stretches, which is followed by a series of loud cracks and pops from his back and joints. It’s just another reminder of his age and all of the damage he’s done to his body over the years. As he shifts in the bed to sit up, he becomes aware of how tight his pyjama pants feel.

“What did we do this time?” he asks, settling his back against the headboard. You hand him your phone so that he can see the article. It’s a picture of the two of you from late last night. You’re straddling his lap in the car and kissing him. It’s right after you told him that you loved him for the first time. His brow furrows. Even in the middle of the night, where the streets are devoid of life, neither of you can get any privacy outside of him locking you away in a bedroom.

The headline reads: “Way more than a PR stunt.” As soon as he sees the writer, he relaxes a little. Lois Lane. Though he knows he can trust her, he still skims through the article to see what she’s written. The entire article is written in defence of your relationship and even goes as far to debunk some of the things other articles have said. He’s going to have to send her a gift basket. A big one at that.

“At least it’s the Daily Planet and not the Gazette,” he says. 

“Oh no, they posted an article as well,” you reply. 

Bruce huffs. “Let me guess, Vicki?” 

“No, it was Ryder this time.”

He huffs again. “Of course it was,” he mutters. He’s really starting to get sick and tired of all of them. 

He sets your phone down onto the nightstand, switching it to silent and placing it screen down. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, in one fluid movement, he’s dragging you down the bed and pinning you to it, fingers entwinning with yours as he holds your hands above your head. 

“I’ll call my lawyers later. For now though, I have something else on my mind.”

Bruce rolls his hips, letting you feel his morning wood press up against you. You gasp as your hips buck, creating friction that has his breath stuttering. Apparently he’s not the only one who’s woken up with a problem that needs addressing.

“Last night you were fretting about your age, yet here you are. Ready to ravage me and you’ve barely been awake five minutes,” you laugh softly.

Bruce hums as he nuzzles his face against you, just under your jaw before starting to press soft kisses to your neck. “How can I resist when I’m waking up to such a beautiful woman?” 

He pulls away and you look at him like you don’t quite believe him. Before you can try and argue against him, he’s pressing his lips against yours. Any protest of his compliment dies on your tongue as you moan into the kiss. As you two kiss, you hook one of your legs over his hip and pull him more flush against you, grinding your groin against his.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, his cock twitching in his pyjama pants.

“I’m hoping we will,” you reply, breathlessly.

“Oh, we’re not leaving this room today.”

He untwines his fingers from yours so that he can pull your shirt off. In reality it’s actually one of his shirts, but you love to steal them from him and he’s not complaining. You look damn good in his clothes, though you look even better with nothing, but some expensive jewellery on. He chucks it to the side, not caring where it falls, and his head ducks down and his mouth is already closing around one of your nipples. He swirls his tongue around the hardened bud before gently tugging on it with his teeth. The action has you gasping as your fingers run through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. He groans again, enjoying the feeling of your nails.

He litters your chest with lovebites before repeating his actions with your other breast. You won’t be wearing anything super revealing for a while. Or maybe you still will. Show off to the world who you belong to. If he ever lets you out of this bed ever again.

Bruce loves the way that you respond to him. Back arching into his touch, fingers buried in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as the softest gasps and moans leave you. Those sweet noises of yours will only grow with his head buried between your legs. That thought has him releasing your nipple and trailing kisses down your body. 

When he reaches you underwear, he smiles. The growing, dark, wet patch on the crotch evidence of how aroused you are. He inhales your scent deeply before licking a bold stripe against your clothed cunt. The taste of you soaked into the fabric has his cock throbbing with the need to be buried deep inside of you. 

Ignoring your protests, he rips your underwear off of you and discards the ruined material somewhere off to the side. You get over the ruined garment pretty quickly, spreading your legs wider and showing off your glistening pussy. Bruce swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. He settles between your legs, hands coming up to hold your hips, getting ready to dive in and devour you. He’ll have you screaming his name in no time.

A knock at the door stops him right before his mouth comes into contact with you. Irritation flares through him and glares over his shoulder, at the door. At least, whoever it is, has the decency to knock and wait.

“What is it?” he calls, his voice sharp as he refuses to hide his irritation at being interrupted.

“Mr Kent is here. He says it’s important,” Alfred’s voice calls through the door. “And I’m afraid he isn’t going to take no for an answer.”

Bruce sighs. He’s been ignoring every text and call from him all weekend so he could be with– he had promised no interruptions– so he probably should have expected this. Still, if it’s not his public persona ruining things, it’s his mask. Sitting up, you cup his face and bring him close to you, your lips just barely brushing against his own.

“Ten minutes?” you ask.

It’s not the morning, or day, he imagined the two of you having, but it’s better than leaving you both wound up all day. He’s still going to be making it up to you later though and he already has plenty of ideas on how.

“I’ll be down in fifteen,” he calls back.

“Of course, sir. I’ll let him know.”

As Alfred’s steps retreat and eventually fade into nothing, Bruce pins you to the bed again. As he kisses you, you’re shifting beneath him. Your legs coming up to either side of his hips and your toes hooking into the waistband of his pyjamas so that you can shove them down. Finally freeing his cock from its clothed prison. He helps you get rid of them the rest of the way and then he’s spreading your legs further. He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head through your folds, coating himself in your slick. Even going as far as to tease your clit which has you sharply inhaling. Then he’s burying himself inside of you, right down to the hilt in a single thrust. The moan that leaves you is loud. Loud enough that Bruce is sure that it could be heard from well beyond the confines of the bedroom, even without super hearing.

It takes everything within him not to immediately start moving. His mind focused on giving you the time you need to adjust to his size. No matter how many times you take him, he’s still a lot for you and the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. You have other ideas though. You’re too impatient to wait for him this morning so you roll your hips, doing your best to fuck yourself on his cock. It makes holding himself back almost impossible.

“Brucie, please move,” you whine softly. Slowly getting frustrated with his lack of movement.

You always ask him so sweetly. Even without a time limit, how could he ever refuse you? The pace he sets to start with is a slow one. Dragging his cock along the inside of your sensitive walls, relishing in the way they flutter around him as a now quiet moan leaves your parted lips. That moan grows a little louder when he pushes back in. 

His pace grows a little bit each time that he pushes back in. Low groans leaving him, matching your moans. Your hot, wet cunt feels amazing wrapped around him, turning his brain to mush. Not enough though that he’s completely lost himself in the feeling of you. Well, not yet anyway. Give it some time and he’s sure he will.

Soon enough the sounds of skin against skin fill the room, alongside the squelching of your pussy every time he roughly thrusts back inside, growing louder and louder. You mewl beneath him, your cunt squeezing him tighter than before, drawing deep, throaty groans from him, desperately trying to stop him from leaving your warmth. With the way that you’re gripping him like a vice, he knows that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck,” Bruce growls. He pulls away so he can hike your legs up onto his shoulders. The new angle has your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his cock reaches impossible deeper inside of you; turning you into a babbling mess.

He knows that you’re getting close to coming undone. After all, he knows your body like the back of his hand and he can see, and feel, all the telltale signs. The stuttering of your breathing, the tensing of your muscles, the way that your pussy squeezes him more and more, making it harder for him to pull out each time. All you need now is a little push over the edge that you’re teetering on. His thumb presses against your puffy clit, doing his best to rub it in time with his thrusts.

His name leaves you in a sob as your body clamps down on him, your cunt gushing around his cock as your orgasm soaks the sheets beneath you. The sight awakens something inside of him. Something almost primal. His pace slows only for a moment as his eyes become glued to your pussy, taking in the sight of your how your lower lips now glisten with your squirt. 

That moment ends as quickly as it started. As soon as his eyes break away from your pussy and come up to see the half lidded, fucked out expression on your face, he snaps out of his trance. His pace comes back tenfold, starting to fuck you harder and deeper than you would have thought possible. Not even giving you a chance to recover from your first orgasm as he has you headed straight toward the next one.

You’re a ball of oversensitivity, your back arching off of the bed and tears spilling from your eyes as you mewl his name. Whilst Bruce knows that he is completely and utterly pussydrunk. He’s known it for a while, how deep he is under your spell. His pace has completely lost whatever rhythm it once had. Uncoordinated and sloppy as he ruts into you, his cock growing harder and his balls getting tighter, ready to fill you to the brim.

He has half a mind to stay right here. Ignore Clark and spend the day doing what he had intended to begin with. Which involves him staying buried inside of you, keeping you stuffed with his cock and cum. If the previous weekend is anything to go by, it’s certainly something that you would not only enjoy, but deep down crave. Honestly, he craves it as well. 

His thumb stays pressed against your clit as he moves forward, almost folding you in half, so that he can kiss you. The kiss is supposed to be passionate, but ends up being sloppy and messy. It’s all tongue and teeth, but both of you are too far gone to actually care.

Your orgasm takes you both by surprise. Your moans are swallowed by Bruce as the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock, doing it’s best to milk him of every drop he has to offer, sends him over the edge with you. His own moan is deep and guttural as he keeps thrusting, pushing his cum deeper inside of you, like he’s trying to make sure it takes. 

Just as it starts to become painful for him, Bruce slumps against you, letting your legs fall off of his shoulders and back down by his side; his head coming to rest against your chest. The only sound now in the bedroom is yours and Bruce’s heavy breathing as you both come down from your highs.

You run your fingers through his hair as he presses soft kisses down the valley of your breasts and underneath them. He sighs softly, enjoying the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

Slowly, and gently, he pulls out of you and rolls off of your body, to lay down by your side. Bruce’s fingers entwin with your own once more and he brings your hand up to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to the back of it. 

His reluctance to leave has you giggling. The sound brings a smile to his face. He is being rather childish in the way that he’s dragging this out. Acting like he might never see you again once he leaves this room. Which, honestly, could be true depending on what Clark has come here to discuss. He shoves the thought away, deciding he doesn’t want to think about that right now.

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” you tell him. You free your hand from his grasp so that you can roll onto your front. Draping a leg over his body, you lean up to kiss him. It’s gentle and sweet, just like you are. When you pull away, he chases after your lips, which has you giggling again.

“Go and save the world and when you come back–” you move forward more and press your lips to his ear– “I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Bruce chuckles as his hand comes down to playfully swat you ass. You gasp and playfully hit his chest. It only encourages him as he gives your ass a squeeze as he rubs his nose against your own.

“You should be careful making such promises, princess,” he says, his voice low. “It might come back to bite you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply cheekily. 

Bruce hums as he makes a move to kiss you again. In that exact moment there is a series of knocks at the bedroom door. These ones are louder and rougher. If they were a little bit harder they might forcibly remove the door from its hinges. He grumbles as you pull away and move off of him.

“You should probably go before your friend breaks the door down.”

“If he does that he can pay for it,” Bruce mutters, glaring at the door. He turns his attention back to you. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

He’s already running through the different ways that he can do that in his head. At the top of the list is another getaway, but perhaps for a week instead of just a weekend. He just needs to find someone to look after the city while he’s gone.

[not-neverland06]

Hii ! I was hoping you could do Logan x Reader where all the teachers go to a club, and the Reader starts dancing with Storm and Jean while Logan is sitting on a couch, looking at her. They both have a crush on each other, but they don't know it, so when the Reader notices Logan staring at her, she gets shy and decides to go get a drink. When she got her drink, a guy starts flirting with her, and Logan obviously sees it. he gets jealous and walks up to the guy telling him to leave her alone. After they talk for a bit, the Reader accidentally confesses and Logan kisses her. this ends up in a private room with Logan fucking her as he always wanted. I know this is a long request and I'm sorry for that, bue I'm a writer myself, so I already had develop this bit of the story in my head. I completely understand if you don't want to do it. Hope you have an awesome day !!🤗❤️ Love your writing btw

a/n: I loved this prompt so much, did switch it up a bit bc I faced a bit of writer's block trying to flesh this out!! (and if I said I was listening to Thong Song while writing this, what then?)

18+ MDNI (fucking in a club bathroom, if that's not your thing, move on out)

Logan rummages around somewhere behind you, digging through the cabinets and moving everything around. The longer he searches, the more confused you grow. Your brows furrow as he cusses to himself.

There’s a low grunt of frustration as Logan rounds the kitchen island to glare at you. His face is screwed up in anger that seems to be misdirected towards you. You give him an awkward look, “Uh, hi?”

“He stole my booze,” he responds shortly and without explanation. You shake your head in confusion as the dots slowly connect. A small smile curls up on your lips but the glare he gives you makes it quickly drop. 

“Well, you know Charles' rules about it,” you tell him flippantly. Logan huffs and shoves away from the counter. He turns back to the fridge, destroying the organizational system as he continues his search. You roll your eyes, eating your food and watching him with a bored expression. 

Jean walks just as he really begins to work himself up. Her face pinches in distaste, catching on to the root of his anger quicker than you had. She looks at you with a small smirk. “Charles?”

“Yep," You answer, eyes still trained on him. He finally gives up the futile search, moving to stand beside you. Your eyes widen and you try not to physically react to his proximity. It’s an everyday struggle to remain calm around him. You’re desperately trying to keep a cool girl persona but you don’t think it's working. 

You’re pretty sure he sees right through your pathetic attempts at nonchalance every time you two are paired on a mission. Jean notices the look on your face and smiles slightly. “The rest of us are thinking of going out tonight.”

It's not an offer with her, more of a demand for the two least sociable members of the team. She gives you both expectant looks, ignoring the way you minutely shake your head in disapproval at the idea of going out.

“Pass,” Logan grunts. He steps away from you, making for the kitchen door. Jean quickly steps in front of him, firmly placing her hand on his chest and giving him a stern look.

You feel like you're missing something as they silently converse with tense looks and aggressive eye motions towards you. You might be worried they're flirting if it weren't for how fed up they both look right now with one another.

Your brows furrow in confusion and it only worsens when Logan lets out an aggrieved huff. “Fine. I’ll come.” He gives Jean a thin smile, “Happy?” 

She releases him and moves out of the way with a smug look. “Very. You’ll thank me, by the way.” She says to his retreating back, ignoring whatever he mutters back to her.

You’re completely lost about what that was but don't have much time to process it before Jean turns her attention to you. You already know what she wants and you immediately shake your head. “No, nope, you know I don’t like going out.” Jean smiles at you, but you know she’s just pretending to agree with you. 

“Jean,” your voice is sharp as you glare at her. “Not happening.”

You really regret ever befriending her. She’s either ridiculously persuasive or she's used her mind-warping abilities on you.

You're squished between Ororo and Logan on a sticky club booth. The smell of booze and cheap perfume soaks through your senses. You feel the beginnings of a headache forming as the music pounds.

While you love the feeling of Logan's biceps pushed up against you, you hate the club more. Storm catches the tense look on your face and sighs in disappointment.

"We need to get some more alcohol in you," she tells you with a faux sense of authority. "Come on," she nods her head and for a moment you think she's talking to you. But, with a move that seems practiced, Scott and Jean both follow her out of the booth and head toward the bar.

You watch them go with a suspicious glint in your eye, not trusting how smoothly they all just conveniently slipped away. That leaves just you and Logan behind at the table and you doubt that's coincidental.

They've been a little pushy about this crush of yours ever since they found out. They insist that he feels the same way about you as you do him. But you sincerely doubt he's fantasizing about going on romantic picnics with you and thinking of mushy dates.

He seems like the kind of guy to value silence over a girlfriend and you doubt you're his type. You don't tend to stray from the rules, ever. You don't think there's much you two have in common, as much as the others insist the opposite.

You give him a subtle look over. He hasn't moved away from you, which seems like a good sign. There's plenty of space for him to go now, but he keeps himself pressed up against you.

But, he's also not looking at you. His thumb is idly tracing the rim of his glass and he's refusing to take his eyes off the stained wood of the table. You know he can feel the way you're staring at him, but he's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your presence. It almost feels petty and that makes you scoff and roll your eyes at the thought. You doubt Logan cares enough to be petty.

Practically in love with me, you think sarcastically. 

You know your friends are taking longer than necessary at the bar, trying to give the two of you some privacy. You feel like a high school girl, trying to get the cool guy to like her when he literally couldn’t give two shits. 

Your friends being pushy about the two of you really isn't helping anything. It only gives you false hope, and when he's inevitably a jerk again, it just makes all your little fantasies come crashing down.

You pick up your glass, tipping your head back and letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out. You've done your hair, spent forever doing your makeup, and you put on your favorite slutty dress. You don't feel like sitting here all night sulking alongside your unrequited crush.

More often than not, Logan is nothing more than a wet blanket. You've put in the effort and dragged yourself outside for once, you'd like to enjoy the experience. He could come find you when he felt like pulling the stick out of his ass. You slide out of the booth with a huff, uncaring as the hem of your dress rolls up your thighs. 

“Where’re you going?” Logan demands, voice gruff. Now he wants to pay attention, figures. 

You turn around and glare down at him. His eyes rove slowly over you, the way they should have been all night. His gaze is a physical caress and his stare lingers along your body. You can practically feel his touch on the curves of your hips. Slowly, he looks back up to meet your eye, something like a challenge on his face. 

You assess him, raising a brow and shrugging. “I’m gonna dance.” Something has possessed you or there’s a very talented telepath manipulating you right now. In a rare display of confidence you lean over the table, breasts pushed out towards him. “Wanna join me?” You ask, breath barely above a whisper. 

He scoffs and goes back to glaring at the table. Whatever confidence you had settles coldly in the bottom of your gut. “Not my thing, kid,” he gripes, every bit the crotchety old man. 

You roll your eyes, playing off the sting of rejection as an annoyance. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not having fun unless everyone else is miserable,” you snap. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, something like shock playing on his face. 

You don’t let him respond, already turning on your heel and walking off. As much as you like Logan, sometimes this attitude of his becomes tiring. What’s wrong with wanting to have fun for a night?

You’re not usually a huge fan of clubs. But when you’re out with your friends, you’re not going to actively ruin their night. As rude as that was, it’s right. He’s the “cool” kid in high school who thought everything was lame and never wanted to enjoy anything. 

So, what? You like to get a little drunk and sloppy sometimes, maybe if he ever tried it he might be less miserable. You head towards the bar, spotting Ororo’s hair easily through the crowd. You slide behind her, slipping your arm over her shoulder, “Hey pretty,” you whisper in her ear, laughing as she jumps. 

She turns and glares at you, swatting at your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

“Ooh, save it for later.” She rolls her eyes and passes you a shot. You take it with a smile, wincing at the burn of the tequila. “You wanna dance?” You have to shout to be heard over the music but you know she hears you when her eyes widen in surprise. 

She glances behind you and you don’t have to look to know Logan is glaring daggers at your back. You can feel him and it's pissing you off. “What happened?” You know she can tell something is up, you’re never this outgoing when you go out. But you don’t want to talk about finally coming to terms with the fact that you and Logan aren’t going to work out. 

Instead, you hold your hand out and wink. “Wanna dance or not?” She laughs a little, slipping her palm into yours and letting you drag her out onto the dance floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been sober dancing. You usually like to be near blackout drunk, but you just don’t have the energy for that tonight. 

Ororo is a little tipsier than you, clearly having been drinking while she was waiting at the bar. Her inhibitions are looser and she’s giggling as you move your hips against hers. Neither of you is dancing to impress, you’re messily moving around each other to the beat of the music. You don’t pay attention to the people around you, just having fun by yourselves. 

Ororo takes your hand, spinning you a little and pulling you back into her arms. You laugh, swaying your hips to the same rhythm she is, chests pressed tightly together while you smile at each other. 

She only lasts a few songs before she pulls back. “I need a drink,” she yells before stumbling back towards the bar. You feel yourself deflate, not sure what to do with yourself now that your favorite dancing partner has ditched you. 

You look through the mass of grinding bodies and try and spot your table. You can’t see much through the brightly colored lights spinning all around you. Everything’s a little disorienting and the shots you’ve had aren’t helping. 

Someone’s hand slips around your waist, “Your friend left you all alone?” Normally, you’d push whoever it was off and tell them to back off. But he’s got an attractive voice and you can feel how fit he is against your back. 

“You gonna keep me company?” You tease, voice a low purr as you push back against him. Your hands drift down to his arms, pulling them a little tighter around your waist. He chuckles, the noise reverberating through your back. 

You barely even get a chance to dance before your back is cold and you can feel his arms forcibly ripped off you. It doesn’t take much digging to find the culprit. Logan is behind you, hand fisted in the guy’s collar, “Why don’t you back off, bub?” He shoves him back and you roll your eyes as the guy scrambles off. 

“What the hell was that?” You demand arms crossed as you glare at Logan. 

He turns around and you’re surprised at the intensity of his glare. Something about it has you heated for an entirely different reason. He’s staring down at you like he’s gonna pounce on you. Your heart races, thighs clenching the longer he’s glowering at you. 

He shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when he’s pissed off. He reaches forward, grabbing your bicep and jerking you into his chest. He leans down until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You wanna dance, let’s dance, kid.”

“What-”

He cuts you off, flipping you around and pulling your back flush against him. You can feel just how much your little show with Storm got him going. You truly weren’t doing anything too alluring, but it seems to be enough for him. 

When you don’t move his hands drop to your hips and he grinds them down against him. “Logan,” you gasp his name out, caught off guard by how brazen he’s being in the middle of the club. There are people around you doing much worse but you’ve never known him to be this bold before. 

“You trying to make me jealous?” It’s hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, to focus on anything at all when his hand is drifting steadily down your body. The tips of his fingers just barely brush the skin of your thigh while his thumb lets the hem of your dress curl up. 

He flips you around, taking his hands off of you and instead tilting your chin up to face him. “I said,” he repeats in a condescending tone, “were you trying to make me jealous?” He doesn’t sound like he’s taking you seriously. Even if that was your intention, he thinks it’s just your petty way of lashing out at him for not dancing. 

You narrow your eyes at him and swat his hands off of you. “No. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was trying to have some fun since you’re clearly not interested at all.”

That insufferable smirk of his doesn’t go away for a minute. If anything, he’s more incensed by your anger. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” Your lips part, another dumb little noise about to slip out when he dips down and stops you. 

He’s not trying to be subtle at all, gripping your dress and tugging you up against him while your lips lock. His tongue dips briefly into your mouth, savoring the taste of tequila on your gums before he pulls back. 

“I’m interested in you, kid, just not this shitty little club.” Your mouth is gaping and you feel like a fool, standing there and just staring at him. Your brain is completely scrambled, bits and pieces forming together to scream that he kissed you. Too many things are happening at once. The music is making the floor beneath you vibrate, liquor is warming you from the inside out and tilting you closer to him. And he kissed you. Your lips are still tingling from it. 

He chuckles a little under his breath, keeping you moving steadily against him. You’re simply something to be puppeteered by your desire for him. No thoughts linger inside your brain except his name. “You’re interested in me?” You repeat dumbly.

He leans down, tilting his lips closer towards your ear. “You can’t feel how much I want you?” One of your thighs is practically draped over his leg and he’s grinding his hips against you. The only thing you can feel is him. The smell of his cologne overpowers all the bodies surrounding you both, his voice drones out the loud music around you. You’re completely consumed by him. 

“Logan,” your tone is scandalized, you can’t believe he’s bold enough to have you nearly half-naked on his lap right now. Your butt is one wrong move away from being the club’s newest attraction. Yet, despite every protest lingering on your tongue, you can’t do anything except kiss him again. 

You don’t know if the moment is all one vivid wet dream your brain has conjured up at three am and you don’t feel like finding out. You want to enjoy being risky for once. You always play everything so safely. You don’t confess your feelings to Logan so you aren’t rejected. You never break the rules, you never act out. Just once, you want to do something bad and enjoy it. 

Your arms twine around his neck and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss further. You feel his reaction more than you hear it. A low grumble in his chest that has you practically vibrating with want. He pulls away from you first and it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter back open. 

When you finally do meet his gaze again, he’s got nothing but a smoldering desire in his eyes that makes you want to melt. He’s staring you down like you’re prey to be chased and consumed. “Can’t do this here,” he mutters. 

You’re almost shocked that he’s the first one to cut this off. You knew it was going to happen, you can’t exactly fuck in the middle of the dance floor. As much as you might want to. But you thought you would be the one to chicken out. 

He grabs your hand and shoves through the throng of grinding bodies. You grab the back of his shirt, stumbling after him and trying to stay close. “As much as I’d like to make that poor son of a bitch watch me fuck you, we need a little more privacy.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the man you’d danced with earlier. If you could even qualify that as dancing. He’d barely put his hand on your waist before Logan had appeared out of nowhere.

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you glare at his back. How had he even gotten to you so quickly? He must have been watching you like a creep the whole time. You almost want to laugh at the thought. But you’re distracted by him nudging you through a door and locking it behind you. 

You glance around, spotting three sinks and some cracked mirrors. Toilet stalls linger to your right and your nose wrinkles in disgust. You turn around to complain but he’s already stalking toward you. Whatever sanitary complaints were lingering in the back of your throat are thrown out the sealed bathroom window. 

He buries his hands in your hair, ruining the meticulously placed style. You arch into his hold, opening your mouth for him to explore and gasping as his hand drops to your hips. He tugs you closer, ripping your dress up and yanking your underwear down in one smooth move. 

You barely have a second to process half of what’s happening before he’s got you bent over the sink. It’s all happening so fast, so many different desires of yours surging to the surface in one dingy club bathroom. 

You’re slick with months of fantasies and sleepless nights where not even your vibrator could curb your desire for him. You hear his belt clink behind you and your back arches like a cat in heat. You practically present yourself to him, so desperate to feel him that you don’t care how much of a slut you’re being. 

You know, if this was anyone else, you’d slap them for even suggesting the bathroom as the first place you have sex. But you’d have let Logan take you in the alley behind the club. You don’t care where you are, just so long as it's with him. And you know that desire runs a bit deeper than just a surface-level crush. 

He doesn’t give you much warning as he thrusts into you. The breath is practically punched out of you as he fills you. Everything about it feels right. You’re so full of him you feel like you could explode. You know it’s going to take a pathetically short time for you to come. It’s just too much, too fast, you’re so overwhelmed by him. 

“Oh god, Logan,” the porcelain creaks under your palms before you feel it splintering off into your skin. You can’t pay attention to it, though, jaw agape, capable of nothing more than slutty moans of his name. 

He’s relentless behind you, thrusting so hard inside you that it feels like a punishment. He fists his hand in your hair and forces you to look in the mirror. “Come on, want you to see how wrecked you are. What a fucking slut you’re being for me, letting me fuck you like this in this bar.”

Your mascara is completely ruined, streaked down your face with your lipstick smeared across your chin. You look like a fucking mess and you couldn’t care less. You feel yourself fluttering around him the tighter his grip on you is. His hand slips from your hair, latching around your neck and tugging you into his chest. 

He grips your chin and keeps your eyes on where the two of you are joined in the mirror. It only makes you clench tighter around him, watching as he moves in and out of you. You can see just how much of an effect you're having on him and it’s the biggest ego boost you’ve ever had in your life. 

You’ve reduced him to a mess in a dirty club bathroom, so desperate for you he couldn’t even wait to take you home. He tilts his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.

You whisper his name in warning, letting go of the sink to clutch tightly at his wrist. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you secured against him. His hips start to stutter, losing some of their rhythm the tighter you are around him. The feeling builds in your fingers, tingles down to the tips of your toes, and explodes in a nearly blinding pleasure. His hips are still against you, warmth filling you a moment later. 

You would slump forward into the sink if it weren’t for his protective hold around your stomach. He keeps you tight against his chest for a minute, waiting for you to catch your bearings again. It takes an embarrassingly long time for the feeling in your legs to come back. You’ve never had such an intense experience like that. 

You don’t know if it's from the thrill of possibly getting caught or just because you were with him. You’ve longed and lusted after Logan for so long, and finally having the real thing is a bit of shock. Especially when he exceeded your fantasies, you didn’t even know that was possible.

He props you against the sink, tugging your dress down and pulling your underwear back up. You watch him with dulled interest, still reeling from what you’ve just done. You’ve never been so bold before, it almost feels liberating to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want. 

He pulls his own pants back up, fixing his belt and grabbing a wet paper towel for you. He’s silent as he wipes the mascara of your cheeks and you give him a questioning look. “You want the others to know what happened?”

You scoff and glance away from him, looking towards the door of the bathroom. “I’m sure they already know. Weren’t exactly subtle,” you tell him with a small smile. 

He smirks, tossing the towel away and walking back towards you. He keeps his arms on either side of you, bracketing you against the sink and grinning down at you. “No, we weren’t, were we?”

You shake your head silently, lips curled up in amusement. Your eyes briefly dart to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. He catches the look with a sly smile, dipping his head down and giving you a brief kiss. 

It’s short and sweet, more loving than the passionate, rip-my-clothes-off kisses from before. It feels like the type of kiss a married couple would share in the early morning when they only want to remind the other they love each other. Your proximity and the look he’s giving you feel more intimate than anything that just happened. 

“You really meant it?” You muse, voice barely above a whisper as you smile at him. 

“Meant what?” He mutters. 

“You like me,” you tease, entangling your hand with his and tugging him even closer to you. 

He gives you a confused look, glancing at the sink behind you and then back at your disheveled form. “Did I not make that clear enough, kid?”

You shake your head, “No, I think I might need another reminder,” you tell him. It takes a moment for your words to click for him. You can see when it does, he gives you a small smile and shakes his head with an aggrieved sigh like you’re bugging him. 

“Really making me work for it, huh?” You nod your head playfully, dragging him down towards you and bringing him into another kiss. You can deal with the line forming outside in a minute. You can push off your nosy friends’ questions for another day. Right now, it’s just you and him, finally doing what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte 

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡

[ad0rechuu]

ᝰ MY OH MY. ━━ (029) balloon flowers versus roses

WORD COUNT. 1038

WARNINGS. a little timeskip from last chapter but only a couple days, yelling, arguing, just some pretty serious and mean spirited insulting, i was in really bad mood when i wrote this but let me just say again that this fictional and i know yj is better than this :]

credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

SUNWOO WAS NEVER the target of the bet nor did he create it. Honestly speaking, it was never his issue at all.

Yet as he walked out of the familiar elevator, he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders since the last time he'd stood in that very same spot.

The bet wasn’t technically his issue. Neither was your relationship with Yeonjun. But he could not have helped but insert himself in the very middle of it. It came down to the most important person in his life. What was he supposed to do?

Not many friends, especially best friends, would be this overjoyed that their dearest friend's relationship ended. Sunwoo, however, wasn’t like most friends. Because if it was up to him, he would lose the title of being solely your best friend as soon as humanly possible.

A smile took over his face as he turned the corner, his eyes fondly looking down at a bouquet of flowers— the very same flowers you got him too.

He hadn’t brought the balloon flowers in for any particular reason (even if he spent a greater part of the night researching the best florists near him). At first, confessing to you was on his mind. But eventually, he decided that after just coming out of a relationship like the one you had, maybe getting into another one right away wasn’t on most people’s wishlist.

And giving flowers with such a romantic meaning as a congratulatory gift for a breakup wasn’t ideal either.

So he decided that the fact that they might make you smile was enough reason for him. His own smile grew imagining your face already.

He looked up in front of him. A familiar figure making its way up to your door caught his attention.

As quick as his smile had grown, it dropped instantaneously, seeing the other visitor raise his fist to knock, roses in his free hand.

“Don’t!” Sunwoo exclaimed, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, rolling his eyes as recognition settled in.

Yeonjun straightened his back and sent a quick glance at the door before eventually facing the other man. Sunwoo walked towards him with an unreadable but dark expression on his features.

The former only chuckled, pushing his hand through his hair.

“Kim Sunwoo! Don’t you have a knack for always showing up on time to ruin the moment?”

The black, curly-haired boy move one step closer.

“I’m serious. Don’t knock. Don’t show up in front of her. Don’t attempt to get her back for the sake of a stupid bet. Don’t do that her.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do? You don’t know anything.” Yeonjun scoffed, crossing his arms.

Sunwoo paused for a few seconds, clearly in thought. He then reached into his pocket.

“Is it because of the money that you keep doing this? I was always under the impression that you were more than well off, but if you really need the money, I’ll give you everything I have. If it means you’ll stop hurting her and leave her life forever.” He said, looking down at the wallet before offering it to Yeonjun.

His expression changed from annoyance to pure anger. He roughly pushed Sunwoo’s hand down, speaking with the same rough caliber.

“Like I said, you don’t know anything. Stop talking like you do.” His hand came up to his beautifully sculpted face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not about the fucking money man. I really do love her!”

“Yeah, right! How can you say that? I mean, you have done nothing but lie, cheat, and use her! You don’t love her. You just don’t want to lose the power you have over her!” Stepping even closer, the boy holding purple flowers now also raised his voice. “I bet you don’t even know what love is to her!”

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes! Yes, I do! Better than you ever will.”

Both of their voices bounced off the walls. In any other context, Sunwoo would be worried about getting scolded for possibly disturbing your neighbors. But he was too busy shooting an icy glare at the boy in front of him.

As Yeonjun looked away first, a part of Sunwoo wanted to celebrate the tiny victory internally. But a sarcastic laugh took his attention.

“You think you know everything just because of your silly little crush on her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sunwoo’s eyes widened, blinking a few times as if it would make sure he heard him correctly.

“You thought I didn’t know? Ha! Everyone knows. I mean, you follow her around like a lost dog. She probably does as well.” Yeonjun smirked, at the shock at the other one’s face.

Balling his fist, he tried to recollect himself and attempted to ignore the implications of his words the best he could.

“N-None of your relationship was even real ever since the second bet! Despite that, I can give her the love you weren’t able nor deserve to give her. I truly love her!”

“None of it was real. Yet she was kissing my lips. She was going on dates with me. Despite everything, she still chose me, and she will again.” He clenched his jaw, spitting words like venom, made to burn deeply. Normally, Yeonjun wouldn’t go this far but anger took over after Sunwoo’s confirmation in form of a confession of what he knew already deep down. “But even if she doesn’t, did you truly think that you had any semblance of a chance, ever?”

“She’s never ever going to see you that way and you are never going to be worthy of her. You’ll be nothing but her friend until she inevitably gets tired of you and ditches you.”

This time, Yeonjun was the one who stepped closer, tongue as sharp as an arrow, not even stopping at the obvious nauseating heart break on Sunwoo’s face.

“Because you two are simply not on the same level like me and her are, she’ll never love you.”

Before Sunwoo get a word in, the two boys heard the door creak open, making both of them look up at the figure standing in the doorway.

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NOTES. hehehhehehehhehehehehhehehehehhehehehe

make sure to participate the ask them anything event, it’s very important to me : it’s okay if you already send an ask tho, feel free to ask as many questions as you desire whenever you think of one

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[aphroditeinthesea]

I love your work so much omg 😭 🙏🏻 you’re such a good writer 🫶🏻

I saw you were looking for requests 👀 and I was wondering if you’d be willingly to do Leo Valdez x f!reader where they are kinda rivals (yk they just bicker all the time) both working on the argo together or making weapons with a team in the forge. But then some guy joins their team and starts mansplaining the basic equipment. There’s just situation after situation where the reader will explain something to the guy and he won’t listen but then the second Leo says it he gets it. And at first Leo kinda notices but just thinks it’s because he’s in charge and stuff. At some point though he overhears the guy showing her how to do something (the wrong way) and he’s like “yo back off man, she knows what she’s doing”. Maybe he even protects her from open flames when the guy almost burns her handling the equipment wrong (something she’d told him a million times before)?? Maybe both happen idk?? The two just become close after that and he ends up confessing or something

Sorry about how much I wrote 😭 your request rules said you liked the requests to be specific and I wasn’t sure how in-depth to write… so if that’s too much you can totally take a bunch of it out lol (I work with power tools because I’m an arts major and I’ve had so many guys trying to explain basic power tools to me… so this has been on my mind for MONTHSSS)

“ i’m a feminist, obviously (but i wouldn’t really mind him saving me) ”

leo valdez x fem!reader 🔨

⚠️ o/c being creepy, mansplaining, almost getting set on fire

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“That’s not,” Y/N stormed over to the boy. She grabbed the wrench out of his hands and began turning it, “righty tighty, lefty loosey.”

“What did you just say to me?” He scoffed.

“You were turning your wrench the wrong way, Valdez,” she replied, handing the tool back to him.

He grabbed it from her, crossing his arms, “for your information, that’s exactly how I wanted it.”

She rolled her eyes, “did you sleep, like at all?”

“A little.”

She huffed, “get some sleep, I’ll clean up.”

“No,” he defended, “I just need to finish this up-”

“If you try to use power tools why you're half asleep, you'll end up getting yourself killed,” she grabbed the wrench from him again, “and you know who’ll have to clean up your dead body? Me, and that’s gross.”

“You're too good to me.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckled, wiping his forehead, “okay, fine. I’m heading out.”

“Bye,” she waved him off.

“See you later, sweet cheeks.”

“Shut up!”

He closed the door of bunker nine behind him, leaving her alone. She sighed with relief, tightening a few loose screws.

She hummed to herself as she began cleaning the mess around her. She picked up some tools, placing them back on their shelves.

“Nice song.”

She jumped at the voice. She turned around to see a boy standing by the stairs. “What are you doing?”

“I’m Marcus,” he replied, walking closer to her, causing her to slowly back up, “son of Hermes.”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

He put a hand on the ship, “heard you're working on this Argo thing, figured I could give a few pointers.”

She grabbed a toolbox, quickly walking away, “we don't need any help, thanks though.”

“Come on,” he smiled, following her, “you can always use some help, the more the merrier, right?”

“Take it up with Leo,” she answered, avoiding eye contact with her. She rushed to collect her things and made an escape to the door.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“I’m fine,” she sighed, opening the door and walking out.

She almost forgot about the incident the next day when she walked into the bunker. She found Leo with an annoyed look on his face, digging through a toolbox.

“What’s up with you, Bernard?” She commented as she walked towards the son of Hephaestus. She knew it was a stupid name, but she did love how much he hated it. She also loved the fact that he didn't understand it (she started using it more after finding out he had never seen the Santa Clause movies).

He sighed, “Mr. Macho over there,” he nodded his head toward the boy from the night before playing with a blowtorch. “He convinced Chiron that he should be working on this, too.”

She scrunched her face, “he gives me the creeps.”

“You know him?”

“He came in here last night after you left,” she explained, “I think he has a thing for me or something.”

Leo’s face tensed, his fist clenching around the hammer he held, “you think?”

“Hope not.” She took a deep breath before walking past the tall boy to grab some extra wood.

“Hey,” he grinned at her, “miss me?”

She forced a smile, walking away from him, “you know it.” She cursed herself for trying so hard to be nice to the little fucker, but she really didnt feel like starting something right then.

The day went on with her desperately trying to ignore his comments towards her. She found herself staying by Leo’s side in hopes that Marcus would think they were dating. As much as the idea grossed her out, it was better than some weirdo thinking he had a chance with her.

“I’m gonna head out,” Marcus mentioned, wiping off his hands with a rag.

“Bye,” Leo spoke flatly. Y/N stayed silent but let out a breath of relief when the boy walked out.

Leo looked up at her, noticing her change in demeanor, “are you okay?”

“What?” She met his eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she nodded, “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, “are you sure? Because I can figure out a way to get him out of here, if you want?”

She shook her head, “thanks, Leo. But, I’m fine, really.”

“Okay,” he breathed out before looking back to continue what he was doing.

She grabbed the blowtorch Marcus had formerly been using. She began using it (i don't know how they work i’m sorry), when Marcus walked back into the bunker, he immediately rushed over to her.

She rolled her eyes as he wrapped his hands around hers, “you're using it wrong.”

“I don't think I am.”

“No, you hold it like this-”

“She knows what she’s doing,” Leo called over.

Marcus just shook his head, “see when you do this,” soon the flames blew back towards them. Marcus threw the blowtorch down in the direction of Y/N in a panic. The flames spewed out and before Y/N could react, she felt herself pulled into a corner, tanned arms wrapped around her.

“What’s the matter with you?!” Leo yelled, his arms tightening.

“Look, it was her fault,” the son of Hermes motioned his hand towards the girl.

“Are you kidding? Since she’s been here, nobody’s almost died (italic). Then the second you walk in you almost turn her into toast!”

She nervously sighed. She slowly reached her hands up to hold onto his forearms, brushing her thumb against his skin.

“You shouldn't have a girl working on this in the first place, there's no way she knows anything about this!”

Leo took a deep breath before yelling once again, “get out!”

“What?” The boy scoffed.

“Get out!”

Her heart rate quickened. Despite all her fighting with him, she had never seen him this angry. She watched as Marcus shook his head before stomping out of the bunker.

Leo’s grip on her loosened, letting turn around to look at him, “are you okay?” He asked, briefly looking her up and down for any wounds.

She nodded, “I’m okay,” she looked up at his face, yet avoiding eye contact, “thank you.”

He softly smiled down at her, “yeah, well, that guy was an ass.”

She giggled, nodding in agreement.

“Don't worry, I’ll set him on fire next time I see him.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, “thanks, really.”

“Of course,” he nestled his nose into her hair, “if anything happened to you, I think I would have actually killed him.”

“Good to know.”

[4bbsterr]

(this is my first time ever writing on here so please ignore any typos or stuff that makes no sense i used to be a wattpad writer.. but enjoy! :)

sam winchester x fem!reader.

reader x sam confess they like each other after being bestfriend’s for years.

TW : fluff, a few cuss words, mentions of being hurt on a hunt, smut, p in v, eating out. (all i can think of.)

as you, sam & dean sit in the kitchen of the bunker looking for more evidence on sams computer to help your current hunt. you catch sam’s brown eyes looking at you, many times. its like his eyes are burning through you. dean breaks the silence and says

“guys, i think i have something. get in the impala.”

you and sam get up grabbing the same bag, your hands touch at the same time. he glances at you, his face red and flustered, speaking as he pulls his hand back.

“i-i-uhm- i”

you giggle at him as you grab the other bag of equipment going to get into the impala. time passes as you guys drive, dean blasting rock music and you staring at sam, him almost catching you as you look away. as you guys enter some random rusty old building when all of a sudden, the current demon you’ve been hunting with the boys comes out grabbing you, you scream for sam as tears fall down your face. he runs to you saying

“get the fuck away from her!”

the demon smirks chuckling saying

“i’ll do whatever i want.”

putting its hand to your throat choking you as you gasp for air, sam immediately feels his heart drop and aims his gun at the demon, dean comes up behind the demon shooting the demon. you drop to the floor, you look for sam and he grabs you picking you up in bridal style and asking a million questions going outside to the impala he immediately sits you down in the passenger seat asking

“are you okay? did you get hurt? i’m worried about you y/n.”

you look at him, aching in pain. you nod at him and he checks you, you’re fine just some aching pain and you could be patched up. he looks at you blushing.

“y/n.. can i talk to you?”

you look at him making eye contact and nod. he thinks before speaking knowing if he tells you this and you not liking him, he’ll lose you. he sighs as he starts to speak.

“y/n i like you, i’ve liked you since i’ve met you and i really really wanna be with you. i like you a lot and i wanna be your boyfriend. i know that we’ve been best friends for years and this could ruin our friendship. i really do like you, i love you.”

you’re shocked but not too shocked, he’d show signs he did, he was around you all the time, you’d exchange looks time by time, he’d look at your lips as you talked, admiring you. he liked you and you could tell, you liked him back too. you start to speak

“i like you too sam. a lot.

smiling. he starts to kiss you and pulls away

“so you’re my girlfriend? right?”

you smile and speak.

“yes sam, im your girlfriend.” 

as you’re both making eye contact dean comes out of the building raising an eyebrow at sam wondering if he finally confessed his feelings for you.

“don’t start making out in my car, for the sake of me!”

sam scoffs rolling his eyes at deans remark, flustered. time passes and you, sam & dean are in the car in awkward silence going to the bunker. you glance at sam in the rear view mirror, as you go to speak he interrupts you asking with concern

“y/n is your neck okay?”

you look at sam as he asks looking back at you, you make eye contact smiling and nod at him as deans into the garage of the bunker, you go to open your door but sam has already had it open for you smiling. what a gentleman. he grabs your hand taking you inside, glancing at you admiring your features as everyone goes inside, sam takes his coat and shoes off carrying the equipment in as you follow behind taking your coat off along with your shoes going to the restroom.

washing your hands drying them off, you leave going to sam as you see him talking to dean and they look at you like they’ve been talking about you, sam flustered and deans eyebrow raised laughing at sam. you look at sam blushing

“sam, do you wanna watch a movie?”

you ask him, as dean gives sam an eyebrow and slapping his shoulder playful pushing him to you.

“y-yeah”

he says nervously rubbing the back of his neck going to you, as you two walk to his room he looks back at dean not knowing what to do to see dean turned back with his hands all over his back and making kissing noises. as you go to look back sam rolls his eyes at dean and pushes you gently in his room closing the door.

“sweetheart, what movie do you wanna watch?”

as he asks you what movie you want to watch, you start to think and realize you wanna watch ‘the notebook.’

“the notebook.”

he looks at you grabbing the remote to his tv turning the movie on. you sit on his bed as he said he’s going to get popcorn.

time passes by. you and sam are in bed watching the movie as he puts his hand on your upper thigh. you move closer to him, putting your leg around his. he gets flustered as you do so moving his hand down your leg. as the tension builds up sam looks down at you as you look back up leaning in kissing you, he grabs your waist moving you into his lap.

as he moves you into his lap you feel his dick getting harder against your arousal, he hungrily kisses you as he unbuttons your pants pulling them off you as he pulls away. he looks at you as he takes your shirt off along with his from the help of you.

sam grabs your hips as he flips you over on top of him. he looks at you, taking off your underwear throwing them on the floor. sam gets on his knees in front of you pushing you back by your legs, he opens your legs putting them on his shoulders and starts kissing your thighs going in to your heat kissing and sucking. you gasp moaning as he does so.

you tug on his hair as his grip on your thighs tightly keeping them open as he eats you out, sucking and licking on your heat. you moan as he sticks a finger in your hole, slowly at first going faster as he puts another in. grunts leaving his mouth as he fingers and eats you out, you moan arching your back as he does so.

as he feels you going closer to your orgasm he stops, pulling his fingers out and looking at you. you whine breathing heavily. he unbuckles his belt, removing his clothes looking at you as he kisses you gently. he grabs your waist positioning his tip to your hole, looking up at you for approval you nod as he pushes in you.

moans and grunts, skin slapping takes up the room. he goes faster as he fondles with your breast, he licks your nipples as he goes faster in you grunting. your walls tightening around his dick, as you feel yourself getting closer. he rubs your clit fucking you. you gasp and say

“i cant, sam! i’m cumming!”

you saying going dumb from his dick, he grunts as he feels you cumming on his dick, he lets you ride your high as he pulls out cumming on your stomach. he falls down beside you breathing heavily. grabbing your hand, as he says

“you are okay?”

you nod in reply breathing heavily. sam goes to his bathroom grabbing a wash rag cleaning you up, he smiles admiring you praising you as he does so with words. sam grabs your hand laying with you cuddling. you lay on his chest and he rubs your back smiling as he says.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.”

you reply back, time passes and you’re both asleep after the exhausting day and night.

thank you for reading i know this wasn’t really good!! but i’d appreciate requests!! :) love u all 💗

[enkas-illusion]

The Night Is Still Young

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Nanami x f!reader

Rating: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: One-night stand; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff, drinking, flirting, Nanami got rizz, suggestive, no smut.

Summary: You are exhausted from working the entire month and you need some stress relief. What's better than finding a gentleman at the club and things take a turn for good.

Author's Note: This was supposed to contain smut but I really hit writer's block. So here's a quick drabble with my husband Nanami. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy it!

~ Nanami's Munchkin

“Shots! Shots! Shots!”

You shoot down the 6th shot of the night, the bitter liquid no longer tastes so bad anymore but the buzz keeps getting stronger.

It’s another Saturday and your plan was to stay home, sulking for the weekend but your friends had other plans.

You had just submitted your assignments and were exhausted beyond repair. Your friends were kind enough to give you an option (not really) between staying home and drinking your exhaustion away only to feel worse the next day – of course, you had to choose the latter.

“You know what would have been better than getting shitfaced tonight?” you asked your friends. Your friends roll their eyes, already knowing you are gonna bitch about being here again for the nth time but what you say next surprises them.

“If a man would fuck me so good that I see God,” you say in all seriousness.

“Damn she’s drunk drunk” your friends laugh at your confession.

You were neck deep into assignments for the past month. You didn’t leave your house except for going to the library to get shit done. So naturally, this also meant that you were frustrated mentally and sexually, needing nothing more than to melt your stress away. 

So what could be a better way than coming to the club to find someone who can help you with it? For your friends, it might mostly be the alcohol talking, but you knew the motivating factor that really convinced you to step out tonight was yet to be met.

“So you’re here to find a guy to hook up with... but all you’ve done is cry about being here. Make it make sense?” your friend Mila counters.

“It’s cause there aren’t any hot guys in here!” you cry out loud. “You need to help me find someone. Please—“

You go quiet as your eyes land on the group of guys that enter the club. Your gaze is fixated on this tall buff guy with blonde hair. He has a tired look on his face that rivals your own and he is oh so handsome.

The thing that catches your interest is his outfit. He’s wearing a black dress shirt with tan pants. His shirt hugs his muscles so tightly that it might rip open any moment. He stood out amongst the crowd of boys who wore T shirts and cargos and called it a fit. 

Your friends have already caught on to him with the way you were shamelessly checking him out. “Go talk to him,” your other friend Dia suggests.

“Oh God! He’s hot isn’t he!?” you whine. 

“Girl, you have a type. And it’s always the stoic, uninterested men.” Mila interjects.

“You forgot the hot dilf body.” Dia chimes in.

You don’t realize that you haven’t taken your eyes off him until you see him catch you staring. You revert back to your friends with a groan.

“Oh shit.”

“Why are you still here? Go talk to him.”

“Urghh… he doesn’t look like a guy who would be interested, you know? I mean look at him. He looks like he was forced to be here,” You say, sneaking looks at him.

“Oh my! You always do this. You thirst over men but never make a move. This ain’t window-shopping! Stop acting like a bitch for once,” Mila states clearly annoyed.

“Don’t you get started, Mila. Why don’t you go ask out the guy at the coffee shop. Harry, was it? You even made me ask for his name! So stop calling me a bitch.” You snapped at her.

“You know what? Let’s make a deal, go dance with that man and I’ll ask Harry out.” Mila replies, her lips twisting in half a smile.

“Deal,” you say, shaking hands with her.

“But I need a little bit more of that liquid luck.”

You head to the bar, ordering two shots of tequila and instead of drinking it, you walk up to the mystery man.

“Hey there, handsome. Care to join me for a drink?” You say almost screaming over the loud music blaring in the background. You were so fixated on him that you didn’t notice his whole group was staring at you.

“Oh he won’t drink, he's a buzzkill, you know. But I can take you up on that offer, pretty girl,” a guy with white hair butts in and you give him an annoyed look.

“Leave her alone Gojo,” the blonde says, pushing the snow haired guy away. “Don’t mind him, he’s annoying that way. Sure I’d like that drink.”

He takes the shot glass from your hand and you click it before shooting it down together.

You move closer to him to introduce yourself so as to not scream in front of others.

He holds his hand out and says, “Nanami Kento, nice to meet you.” When you go to shake his hands, he gently lifts it to leave a small peck on the back of your hand and you feel chills run through your body. 

“I didn’t know you got game, Nanamin,” the Gojo guy shouts. Nanami rolls his eyes and looks at you. 

“Do you wanna—“ you both say at once which makes you laugh. “Go ahead,” he responds.

“I was gonna ask if you want to dance with me?” you ask, suddenly shy.

He nods, holding his hand out for you and leads you to the dance floor. “Hmm… didn’t know you were such a gentleman. You don’t look like the guy who goes clubbing on the weekends,” you tease him.

“Trust me I’m not. I was forced to join them. Need to keep them out of trouble,” he says with a sly smile while his hands move around your hips and you both sway around to the music.

“So, you are the daddy of the group, huh?” you ask, which comes out more seductive than you intended and you cringe slightly.

He spins you around so that your back is touching his chest and you take this opportunity to grind back on him.

He leans closer to your ear and says, “Umhmm… is that the reason you were undressing me with your eyes ever since I entered? Need daddy to take care of you, too?” 

You turn around to face him and snake your hands around his neck. You have to stand on your tiptoes even with your heels on to reach him.

“So what if I do?” you look at him with dark eyes.

He pulls you into a messy kiss and you melt into it letting him take control. You don’t remember how long you’ve been making out in the middle of the dance floor. 

You hear your friends hoot which makes you self aware about your surroundings. You pull away from the kiss breathlessly to look at your friends and give Mila a look to which she mumbles ‘okay, okay’ with a shrug while Dia gives you a thumbs up.

You look back at Nanami who witnessed the whole interaction. “What was that about?” he asks with a quizzical look.

“Argh… nothing. Just a stupid bet between friends.”

“Is that what I am? A stupid bet?” He asks feigning hurt which makes you chuckle, “So what was the bet? Get a kiss?”

“Well I could tell you the truth that it was just to dance with you or I could just lie and say that it was to get you to sleep with me,” You reply with your hands running over his biceps suggestively.

“Hmmm… the lie sounds much more convincing to me,” he says lowly in your ears.

“So Nanami-san, you gonna help me win the bet or not?” your hands move up to play with his undercut.

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely.”

~fin~

[umuulandito]

burnout (teaser) | jeon wonwoo

SYPNOSIS. 11 years. you’ve been loving wonwoo for 11 years. you’ve loved and supported him since you were 16. and you’re starting to wonder if you can keep living like this. PAIRING. idol!jeon wonwoo x writer!reader GENRE. angst, it’s mostly just angst. NOTES. english isn’t my first language !! para sa mga filipino, inspired by "i'm drunk, i love you" and sugarfree's "burnout". reader has done like 3 different jobs + went to college. multilingual!reader, writer!reader. WORD COUNT. (estimated) 13k DAY OF RELEASE. (estimated) august / september

“In two days, your new drama comes out. This is the… what is it?”

“12th.”

“12th drama you’ve written that’s somehow about Wonwoo.”

“And?”

“So, when will you finally confess to him?”

It’s not the first time someone’s asked you that– or specifically, not the first time Jihoon has asked you that. He’s been asking you that for years now. You can only look into your glass, staring into the abyss of soju and beer because you don’t have an answer. 

You’ve never had an answer to it.

“I don’t know. Never? I’ll get over it eventually, probably,” you say. His eyebrows raise and he can only scoff and snaps his fingers in front of you, drawing attention to his face. “Eleven years,” Jihoon remarks. “You’ve never gotten tired of whatever–” his hands point vaguely at you, “this is.”

He gives you a once over and, you don’t have it in you to be offended when he says, “And you look like you don’t plan to stop. You have had every–”

“Not every.”

“Yes, every, chance to confess but it just seems like you keep delaying it.”

Jihoon gives you that look, the look that says ‘Well?’ and you can’t say anything (again). When he lifts his cup up to drink, he looks at you expectantly, eyebrows raised and ready for your response. But it’s just silent.

“Am I wrong?” He asks.

“You’re crazy,” you say rolling your eyes and taking a sip of your own glass. 

“See! That’s not a no,” Jihoon laughs. “Well… it just seems kind of a waste,” you laugh tracing the rim of the glass. “We’re good friends… Ha! We’re good friends.”

“But?”

“But…” You sigh, “But he doesn’t love me back.”

When you look at Jihoon, he’s smug. His face says smug but his eyes say pity, they always have. Every time you have this conversation, he always reminds you of this, and well, who doesn’t like to be right? But you can always tell he pities you. 

“Timecheck!” Jihoon shouts, you flinch at the sound, what the fuck was that?

“It’s been 11 years, somehow your hopes are still up and nonexistent at the same time,” he says and you roll your eyes, snarky… as always. 

You tap your wrist with a scoff, “I know it’s been 11 years. I can read the time, Jihoon.”

He sighs again, “But that’s why it’s so… I don’t think you realize really how long you’ve been hoping.”

That kind of stops you because fuck, he has a point. 11 years… That’s a decade, probably 1/7th of your life– you spent your youth loving Wonwoo, your college years still loving him, and your adulthood continuing to love him. When you think about it, so much of a person can change in 11 years, no one is the same person they were 11 years ago. He’s changed so much over 11 years, you’ve changed so much.

And yet here you were, still loving him. Loving every version, every iteration.

It’s kind of crazy.

Confronted with the reality in your hands. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

You’re confronted with this insane reality and all you can say is…

“Give me time.”

When you meet eyes with Jihoon, he’s looking at you like you just said you plan on quitting writing forever. His eyebrows are raised, eyes wide as saucers, staring at you in absolute shock at your audacity.

“GIVE ME TIME?!”

There we go. You close your eyes letting yourself sit and just absorb the lecture he’s about to give you.

“What type of nonsense is ‘give me time’?!” Jihoon asks. “You believe in the cosmic powers or whatever of the universe–”

You mumble, “It’s called fate–”

“Fine! Fate. God, I feel like I say this every time. You believe in the cosmic supernatural possibilities of whatever fate and the universe have given you E L E V E N years! The universe gave you all the time you could need and yet, here you are!”

You let out a small huff, fiddling with the handle of your glass. Yet here you are. 

“I don't know why,” you take a small sip again of your drink, “like, I even made like… 12 dramas about him!” Then you take a larger gulp, “Why are they all about him?!”

Jihoon can only shrug, “Maybe you’re a masochist.”

He was expecting you to deny that actually, you can get so defensive about this sometimes but you’re actually thinking about it. Your eyebrows are scrunched up in concentration as you revisit every drama you’ve made in the past 5 years. 

When you look back at him, your brows are still furrowed and you say “You know, I might be. Like, what sane normal person writes Twenty-Five Twenty-One?”

“Or Hotel del Luna. Even worse, that was your debut. So from the start, it’s really all been him.”

It’s always been him. “Everything’s always about him, like, my youth revolved around him and whatever he revolved around.”

“Because he was Seventeen, your youth was Seventeen.”

“My youth was Seventeen… Do you think he knows that like for four years straight he was singing songs about himself?”

That one brings a laugh out of Jihoon, your former partner in crime in writing. One of the only people to witness every step of your writing, which involved staring a lot at Wonwoo. “I don’t think he knows, you’re surprisingly not obvious.”

“Everything’s about him… God, maybe I AM a masochist.”

“Okay, let’s just put it this way, let’s do this differently. Let’s enumerate what your and him’s relationship was for those 11 years, each of those 11 years.”

You can only sigh, as if you haven’t done that several times this night, again when he raises his glass triumphantly. “When did you and Wonwoo first meet?”

“You ask this question but I’m sure you know the answer.”

“Should that stop me from asking? It’s about consistency.”

“Fine. Let’s start from the beginning.”

[itsthedoodle]

the tragic story of the vienna sausage

Summary:

“Feyre, before we do this, there is something you should know.”

She looked at him incredulously, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs. He thought now was the time for confessions? Sighing, she looked at him expectantly nonetheless.

“My cock… it’s not like other cocks.”

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: none

Many thanks to @rosanna-writer for spending her lunch break beta reading this pure chaos of a oneshot 🩵

Read on AO3

“You’ve plagued my dreams for so long.” 

Feyre had no actual recollection of how they had gotten there. She only knew that they’d met at a ball several hours ago, and she had been captivated by his aura the moment she’d laid her eyes on him. Rhys could command a room just by being in it, which didn’t really surprise her given his station. They had been introduced to each other, had hit it off right away, had danced all night long, dances during which more than just a few whispers about them had been heard, and had decided to go out for some fresh air. A ballroom wasn’t the best place to strike up a conversation, especially with the presence of eager eyes and ears, so anything remotely meaningful Feyre had wanted to tell Rhys had come rushing out of her the moment she had felt him stand next to her on the enormous balcony. 

She had confessed that she loved the night sky more than anything else, and he had told her he knew the perfect spot on this estate for stargazing. She had all but begged him to take her there, so they had gone to the fountain in the center of the rose maze, and had sat there for who knows how long.

If anyone had been looking for them, neither Feyre nor Rhys had known anything about it. 

Rhys had started tracing constellations in the sky, meanwhile Feyre had been busy tracing the constellation of stars in his eyes. He had simply looked away from the sky for one moment, had turned his head to look at her and whatever he must have seen on her face had made him risk it all and kiss her like a parched man finally tasting water again.

She had kissed him back, and the rest had conveniently left her brain.

She looked at Rhys now, looked at his flushed face and the silky hair she couldn’t bring herself to stop touching. He was so beautiful and she wanted him so bad that she could hardly make sense of her own thoughts. 

His shirt had been thrown somewhere behind him — or behind her? — she didn’t particularly care, and the top of her gown had been lowered down to her waist, her chest peppered with so many bruises she didn’t even know how she would cover them. That was a problem for future Feyre.

Present Feyre simply wanted to fuck the gorgeous man in front of her.

She ran her hands on his bare chest, the planes of it covered in strange markings she didn’t understand, moving them low to his abs and ending at his pants. She couldn’t wait to taste him. 

She started to unbutton them when he put his hands on hers. 

“Feyre, before we do this, there is something you should know.”

She looked at him incredulously, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs. He thought now was the time for confessions? Sighing, she looked at him expectantly nonetheless. 

“My cock… it’s not like other cocks.”

She suppressed a snort. Wasn’t that what every male said? Though Feyre had to admit, Rhys wasn’t like other males. He was different. There was something about him she couldn’t put her finger on. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She said, unbuttoning his pants, lowering them and his underwear. 

As they fell to his ankles, she only had enough time to register two things: 

Rhys looked anxious, and his cock was abnormally large and long. 

She blinked down at it, unable to form a coherent sentence. While she usually hated the “how will it fit?”, she was seriously considering whether it would actually fit.

She forced her brain to come up with something to say. “Not like other cocks, huh?”

Rhys gulped. “I’ll show you. Please promise me you won’t bolt.”

Feyre nodded, keeping her eyes on her unusual prize. She was horny, and she wanted him to fuck her, but she had to figure out something regarding that—

The cock, already at a size she couldn’t quite grasp, started elongating, with Rhys standing up from his spot on the fountain and putting distance between them with every inch it gained. 

Her mind was blank. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or if she had eaten something that was affecting her clarity. Her head was spinning and her heart was threatening to jump right out of her chest. 

Rhys was now on the other side of the center of the maze, and his cock was long enough to touch her nonetheless, and Feyre—

Feyre ran for her life.

She ran faster than she had ever ran before, and just when she thought she had put enough distance between them, she felt something brushing her ankle. She looked down, screaming at the sight of Rhys’s cock wrapped around her ankle.

Feyre fell, face on the grass. The cock released her ankle.

“Feyre please, I just want to talk. Let me explain.”

Her face was hurting from the impact, and she could feel her nose bleeding. Ignoring the pain, she used that moment to her advantage, standing and running again, without a single clue as to where she was going, seeing as she was in a freaking maze. 

Feyre was aware of the ridiculous sight she was making at the moment — running from a prehensile cock and its owner, boobs out and swinging this way and that.

She stopped in front of a narrow path, the only way forward. It was a tight space, and chances she would be hurt in the process were high, but she couldn’t climb up the tall rose wall, so she went in. The skirts of her dress kept getting stuck in the thorns of the roses, but slowing down would mean the cock would catch up to her. While she was horny and would admit she could be talked into letting a prehensile cock fuck her, she was also terrified of how that would work to begin with. Would it hurt? Could he control the length? If that was the case, why hadn’t he just kept it to himself in the first place? 

That’s right, she thought to herself. Because he’s a decent man willing to give his partner a choice. 

Rhys… poor Rhys. He had begged her not to bolt. She had told him she wouldn’t and had done just that at the first chance she got. 

“Feyre please,” he pleaded with her from what she thought was from the other side of the maze wall. “I swear I just want us to talk. You deserve an explanation.”

She did, she was aware of that. She also knew he deserved to be heard. There had to be a reason for whatever was going on. Who was she to judge someone’s physical condition? And besides, how bad could it be? She was scared, but at the same time she was also curious about it. 

Making a decision, she slowed down, catching her breath. She was a big girl. She could do this. 

Turning around, Feyre went to the exit of the path she was in. 

As expected, Rhys came out of the parallel path, his cock now at its usual length.

She suppressed a snort. While she had been busy running naked from the waist up, he had simply decided to run entirely naked altogether. 

The man was gorgeous though, like he had been carved by an artist. Even his cock was gorgeous. 

“I’m sorry I grabbed your ankle.”

Feyre nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself. I was just…”

“Scared? Taken by surprise?” he said with a knowing tone. 

She nodded again. 

Rhys sighed. “You wouldn’t be the first. It’s a hard thing to explain.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. It was a hard thing alright. Rhys caught what she meant and laughed. 

“Has it always been like that?” she asked, genuinely curious. 

Rhys shook his head. “No. A witch pretending to be a priestess cursed my family line centuries ago because I rejected her advances. It’s been like this ever since.”

“Is there a way to break the spell?”

He looked at her for a moment, taking in her appearance. “The key to breaking the curse would be a willing sexual partner who knows about it and accepts me nonetheless.”

Feyre hummed. So that would explain why he had told her. Did that mean—

“I know what you’re thinking. There hasn’t been a willing sexual partner in quite some time. You’re the first one to even agree to hear me out.”

“That must have been painful for you.” she said, approaching him. 

He snorted. “Emotionally and physically, yes.”

Sighing, she stopped in front of him. “Look. The thought of it terrifies me, I won’t lie. But I’m also curious.”

“You… are?”

His unsure tone broke her heart. No one deserved to be feeling what he must have felt all these years. 

“I am,” she said, bringing her hand to his cock, stroking it. It was smooth like velvet, which she wasn’t expecting considering how long it could get and how she had been running away from it until a few minutes ago. “I’m also still very turned on.” She went down on her knees, eye level with it. “I’d say that’s a good sign, right?”

Rhys was looking at her like he couldn’t believe his luck, and she used that moment of shock to lick a long stripe up his shaft. 

He groaned, and she took him fully in her mouth, one hand gripping him and her other hand finding its way to her clit. 

As she sucked and stroked, she felt the world tilting, a weird sensation in her head. She faintly wondered how it would feel if the cock elongated while inside her before her world went fully dark. 

 “Feyre?”

She groaned, feeling warm all over. She was lying somewhere soft. Had Rhys carried her inside the mansion from the rose maze? 

She forced her eyes open, blinking several times, waiting for her eyesight to adjust. Rhys was by her side, her hand in his. He looked disheveled, stressed, tired, and fully clothed. 

“Rhys?”

He sighed, sounding relieved. “Hello Feyre darling.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I was so worried about you.”

“What happened? How did I get here, did you carry me here from the rose maze?”

“The… what now?” he said, wholly confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been lying here for a whole week. The fever only broke an hour ago.”

“What fever?”

Rhys blinked. “You don’t remember anything?”

Feyre shook her head. 

“Well,” Rhys started, “You got bitten by a venomous snake. Madja gave you the antidote on time but the fever needed a while to fully break — you seriously don’t remember anything?”

“No, I don’t,” She said, sighing. “I must have really been out of it.”

“You kept mumbling things about stargazing and… prehensile cocks the whole time?” he finished with a confused tone. “I’m just glad you’re okay, darling.”

He leaned in to kiss her gently and she returned it. Had it all been a dream?

“Rhys?” she asked tentatively, “can I be honest with you?”

“Always.” He answered immediately. 

“I’d have been curious and willing to give it a shot, but I’m glad you don’t have a prehensile cock.”

[velvees-archive]

TGAA 1-2 Spoilers (Live Blog)!

at the time i’m posting this, i have something to confess: i am currently on TGAA 1-4. i wrote most of this while i was on 1-2 so it’ll still have that real-time accuracy, but i don’t know how i flew through TGAA. it took me a long time to get through 1-2 and then i ate 1-3 up in one sitting and i’m now almost done (i think) with the 1-4 day 1 investigation. i’ll also still post my 1-3 breakdown + some 1-3 reactions bc those are already drafted.

this game is peak. the pacing is rocky and some segments drag on, but i am more than willing to stomach the lows when the highs are as high as this.

i did have various reactions to 1-2 which i will link here, here, and here, so let’s get into the meat of this case. warning: copious amts of glazing ahead!!!

i am in complete awe. this case gave me everything i could’ve asked for and then some. it is impossible to stress this enough, but being funny goes a long way in an ace attorney game. in any media, actually. maybe shu takumi has a really good grasp on humor and comedic timing. maybe it’s the other writers or the localization team that give TGAA that extra oomf. whatever the case, i’ve laughed out loud so many times while playing 1-2, the same way you’d laugh at everything your crush says bc you think they’re kinda neat and sometimes maybe a little funny and-

i will say that the case started incredibly slow despite the reveal abt who died (already talked abt that but ouch?), but considering this case introduced one of the most popular characters in the franchise, slow build up is to be expected. i’ve seen the name “herlock sholmes” around and he did NOT disappoint, especially when he abandoned the silliness and locked the fuck in at the case’s climax. it’s actually peak.

speaking of characters that don’t disappoint, while susato’s presence starts out unimpressive in 1-2, she quickly becomes one of 1-2’s most entertaining characters. they have never missed w the judicial assistants EVER. i love my weird girls and susato is no exception. there are a lot of emotional moments in her dialogue that convey how much respect she had for kazuma. it’s in the music, the word choice, and the sprite usage. i can’t believe how well this game gets characters’ emotions across with the few dialogue boxes they’re afforded. sometimes less really is more.

i got chills during the lead up to the confession. everything that happened was unfortunate, really. i’m bitter bc of how kazuma’s death played out, but god, the logic was good. no doubt in my mind that kazuma was going to consult w ryunosuke instead of ratting pavlova out. i know i keep saying this but the reveal is peak. we’re only on the second case but the characters feel so alive. the atmosphere is fantastic. and again, herlock sholmes actually knows how to lock in!

ryunosuke is written wonderfully in this. you can feel his grief/frustration; more than once, i felt ready to tear my hair out bc of how uncooperative everyone else was being. it is unbelievably cruel to accuse him of murdering his best friend.

i will admit that i expected a court segment and didn’t get that, but you know what i DID get?

this, which, arguably, has way more character!! ALSO! the inspector is back! and did i mention i love herlock sholmes? i love herlock sholmes!!!

in a not-so-smooth segue into character relationships, the depth of ryunosuke and kazuma’s devotion towards one another genuinely leaves me breathless. there’s nothing i like to see explored in media more than a bond like theirs. i was and am a firm satosugu shipper; that should say a lot already!

this isn’t to say that i ship them (though, as with most ships, i do keep an open mind). what i’m really trying to explain is how taken i am with ryunosuke’s loyalty towards kazuma and kazuma’s complete and total faith in ryunosuke. ryunosuke decides to cram study law for 40 grueling days so kazuma’s dream can live on through him. the last thing kazuma thinks about before he dies is ryunosuke, because he trusts him so much he sought his opinion on how to move forward w pavlova’s situation. we as the player don’t have much time to get to know kazuma yet takumi manages to sell their relationship in a way the second trilogy couldn’t sell many of theirs. i am deeply moved. this is so poetic and indicative of an otherworldly kind of love.

i’d also like to take this moment to double down on what i said about kazuma’s katana and his soul, which finds itself in ryunosuke’s possession at the end of the case. SYMBOLISM!

i was holding onto some hope that kazuma faked his death, tho i see that’s probably not possible now? i mean, two people were jailed for his murder. surely he wouldn’t agree to involve innocent people. he’s much too noble for it….

unless, ofc, the thing he absolutely had to accomplish in london forced him to abandon his morals.

ik what you’re thinking: bro’s still coping? and to that i say, yes. yes i am. even tho what we’ve seen of kazuma goes against what i’m saying, i am. do i actually believe my own bs? questionable.

there are definitely things i’m missing, like how the many great deductions + that whole thing abt letting someone’s gaze lead elucidates what kazuma was up to during his final moments…that is A MASTERCLASS on big reveals. beautifully done. there are other things to praise like susato’s fixation w keeping things orderly + her fangirling over sholmes. i love how she extracts knowledge from infobooks and silly magazines. there’s so much depth to her character.

i leave the case with mixed feelings abt the killer. she’s just a kid but god why did she have to assume? at the same time, though, her quick thinking was the difference between life and death for her. i am clawing at my walls!!!

CASE VERDICT: 8.5/10

i love this game.

[crappymixtape]

crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that are on my reading list or have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ “i’ll miss your forever” – @andvys ( you are winning the battle against Vecna but you are also losing as you get closer and closer to death • eddie x reader )

❤ “i’ve got you” *18+ only – @chestylarouxx ( TW: drugs // you go to a party, grudgingly, and find that maybe that joint you smoked wasn't just the weed you expected. an old friend takes care of you • eddie x reader )

❤ “star of the show” series – @supernovafics ( TW: asshole!steve // you're hoping for the best, perhaps even some sort of miracle, but from the first phone call to the first meeting, it's pretty clear that everything that has been said about him is oh so true • modern!actor!steve x reader )

❤ “can i try one” – @inkluvs ( request prompt with a cw: reader is a bit ditzy? a luna lovegood type beat ; petnames • steve x reader )

❤ “get off – the v-card” *18+ only – @palmtreesx3 ( steve and robin get jobs at a sex shop, ie. buckle the fuck up, omg • steve x reader & robin x oc )

❤ “’rari go fast, i know you like it” *18+only – @superblysubpar ( steve takes you for a ride after closing a big deal at dinner • rich!steve x reader )

❤ “all i really want is you” blurb series *18+ only – @loveshotzz ( TW: age gap // in between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love )

❤ “sugar meets spice” series – @lofaewrites ( the summer of 86’ brings eddie munson 3 things- a diploma, an actual job & a pretty girl who seems to like him just as much as he likes her – needless to say, life is good • construction worker!eddie x waitress!reader )

❤ “if tomorrow never comes” series *18+ only – @sweetsweetjellybean ( TW: smut, mentions of self-harm & death // trapped in the upside down, steve is prepared to die alone until he finds you hurt and in need of help. doing your best to survive while the world catches fire, is there time for one more chapter in your story? • steve x reader )

❤ “half my heart” – @steveharringtonscarkeys ( very sad and kind of out of context steve angst and sadness • steve x reader )

❤ “a study in self-sufficiency” series – @sattlersquarry ( steve’s parents have plans for his future, but he’s starting to think he wants something else • steve x reader )

❤ “to be drunk and in love” – @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ( drunk confessions, best friends to lovers, eddie being a menace and friends who are extremely touchy and too dumb to realise it's because they're in love • eddie x reader )

❤ “to be alone together” *18+ only – @katsu28 ( steve has to work on valentine’s day, but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it would be • steve x reader )

❤ “hugs” – @sigh-mon-says ( TW: implied homophobia // steve Harrington hated hugs until you came along • steve x reader )

❤ “colorblind” – @livingintheupsidedown ( TW: trauma, panic attack, S4 spoilers // you can't decide if you should tell Steve how you feel or not, he makes that decision for you • steve x reader )

[everytaylorswiftsongisaboutcats]

I imagine that, instead of being a lonely Zillennial (roaring 20s tossin tossing pennies in the pool, it’s supposed to be fun turning 21, how can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22-ooo oo ooo, she’s still 23 inside her fantasy and your sitting in front of me) woman (she/her; feel free to tell me your pronouns) covered in cat hair (it’s a party) drinking in my wine-aunt bi-wife energy (I am the bi-but-not-so-much-wife; LGBTQIA+🩷💜💙), I am a ghostly Victorian lady (a better way to put Chronically Ill/anemic spoonie🥄🦓🦄 INFJ/INFP w CPTSD🩵SA survivor) wandering through the backwoods with a candle in a candlestick holder, writing only on parchment with a feathered quill (instead of ranting from my not-so-new phone on Tumblr at 3:00 a.m. like the Midnights become my afternoons insomniac I am, off to some secret garden in my mind or fangirling on a Swift Stream).

Just a folklore / evermore girlie that would’ve could’ve should’ve been a head writer/artist in The Tortured Poets Department if only my crying a lot was more productive instead I just try to keep making art & am an avid reader of all of the books beside my bed.

I mostly speak now in English (though I grew up learning ASL🤘just not as handy here *pun intended*😅 & I try to keep up with swift fluency for Swiftie acronyms iykyk-yoyok���).

🫶 So, It’s me, hi 👋 you can call me “the problem” or Lila (short for Delilah) or Lav (short for lavendar) As in @lavendarneverlands the 1 main blog of ✨mine🪻 (cause lavender haze was taken & alas, there’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have), so I guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats, alone… but if you follow this page you can come along💖 I’m usually running back home to you here on what’s the seven-th-ish Tumblr side-blog I have for fandoms like this!

So, Welcome Swifties! Long live the magic we make!

P.S. yes, I’m still a believer: that every Taylor Swift song is actually about her cats.

If you want the D.L.X. bio there’s a more chapter below:

Here’s some basic Q&A’s to trade friendship bracelets:

My Taylor Swift cry song is: Champagne Problems

& if I don’t scream/sing “She would’ve made such a lovely bride what a shame she’s fucked in the head” then I have been beamed up in a cloud of sparkling dust.

Same with “And you were tossing me the car keys, "Fuck the patriarchy" Keychain on the ground, we were always skippin' town. And I was thinkin' on the drive down, "Any time now, He's gonna say it's love," you never called it what it was. 'Til we were dead and gone and buried; check the pulse and come back swearin' it's the same, after three months in the grave. And then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you, but all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame.”

I have never been to a Taylor Swift concert. & It is not for a lack of trying. Yes, I hate it here.😂 But yes I watch every stream I can, I love Surprise Song o’clock. Minus the fact I’m bad at math for CT.

Confession: I’m horrible at hearing lyrics right & either really good or really bad at acronyms.

First album heard & album experiences: Debut I heard but it was brief it was really Fearless as the first album I got super into & then went back to Debut after, Speak Now was my age group/childhood, Red was the obsession phase & only sanity in my life, 1989 will forever & always be a bop, Reputation is severely underrated, Lover was all I listened to that entire year, folklore was my true love at first sight, evermore saved my brain in a really tough time, of course the re-recordings are all I listened to Taylor’s Version all day everyday (just waiting for Debutation) Midnights is perfection I loved it day 1 to wherever we are now, Tortured Poets Department is THE album everyone I know heard and went LILA ITS YOU (or should I say ME!).

Current album rankings: — (trying to think technically) — folklore, evermore, Midnights, The Tortured Poets Department, 1989, Reputation, Speak Now, Red, Lover, Fearless, Debut — (trying to think subjectively) — evermore, folklore, The Tortured Poets Department, Midnights, Red, 1989, Reputation, Lover, Speak Now, Fearless, Debut

Swiftie-ness: I do LOVE Fall & I don’t care that I’m basic. Why would you make fun of someone for being excited? In a world where we can like whatever I’m happy to be excited over enjoying TS music. And I wanna be remember for the things I love! + I think she is a gifted storyteller. And her music has put words to what I cannot, I’ve grown up with it steadily, got more into it during Lover, super into it during folklore & super next-level Swiftie during Midnights & Eras Tour but I’ve never not been a fan. Minus the one thing I hate getting stereotyped for: I don’t get weird with it; death threats are too far, stalking someone isn’t being a fan it’s being a stalker, be kind & enjoy enjoying something, but be people people. However that’s not the Swifties I know, I like the friendship bracelet group of y’all! Let’s fandom about it!

Clowning Levels/Thoughts/Theories: I predict Rep first, & Debut being called Debut Taylor’s Version… though “Taylor Swift Taylor’s Version” would be epic. TBH I’m just excited for whatever they are :-) & yes, I, Eras Tour clown an embarrassing amount😅😂 while also loving where we are in this era/age.🫶💕

[kithtaehyung]

hi ryen,

there’s so much i want to say, but alas i don’t have your way with words. i want to, no need to tell you how much i have i fallen in love with your writing. i started reading 3tan after house party dropped and im so glad i found it because wow. ryen you are an amazing writer and i don’t think that even cuts it to describe how wonderful and impacted i’ve been by your writing. i could keep going and going and going to praise you, but that’ll take forever to write and i don’t have enough words.

i waited to read broken pt 1 until pt 2 dropped and i’m glad did because i was in agony after i finished it. the way you write makes me feel like i’m sitting inside your writing, as if i’m experiencing my life and it’s not just 3tan, but every. single. one of your works. i’m sure someone else talked about it, but i love how you repeat certain words or phrases when reader going through stuff. i feel like it’s more frequent when their overwhelmed and i think it’s just a wonderful feature that you add because i relate to that so much. my biggest takeaway from this chapter is the confession. it felt so right and it was a roller coaster to get there, but it makes it all the more worth it as you know. and after the game? tae and reader were going through it! i felt that! there was so much agony and anticipation and anxiety. you really have a way of showing all of those emotions in the most flawless way. there was so much rain i nearly got washed away. i haven’t been so affected by writing like this in a minute.

anyways, i think i’ll stop there because i could keep going going going. you’re fucking amazing ryen and i want to kiss your brain so much!

-🐸

frog, i just wanted to preface this response by saying this made me cry the first and second and third times i read it. thank you for taking the time to talk about your journey with this fic because it's these types of messages that keep me going. this is why i keep writing and the reasons why i'm still here in the first place🫂

oh the strategy! i do try to make it seem like we're right there with them. so this feedback is great to hear.

i’m sure someone else talked about it, but i love how you repeat certain words or phrases when reader going through stuff. i feel like it’s more frequent when their overwhelmed and i think it’s just a wonderful feature that you add because i relate to that so much.

thank you! honestly i just write how my brain processes thoughts, so it's safe to say that y'all are actually getting a glimpse into my mind. weird revelation just now haha😅

my biggest takeaway from this chapter is the confession. it felt so right and it was a roller coaster to get there, but it makes it all the more worth it as you know.

the confession. i can talk about this moment forever. i said this in the discord first, but even i was shocked when it came out. and when it did, i just stopped typing and cried.

and after the game? tae and reader were going through it! i felt that! there was so much agony and anticipation and anxiety. you really have a way of showing all of those emotions in the most flawless way. there was so much rain i nearly got washed away. i haven’t been so affected by writing like this in a minute.

one of my fave anime is haikyuu, and i bring this up for a reason. they do such a great job of showing the raw emotions that comes to play in sports - the highs of winning and the devastation of losing. i wanted to bring those same aspects into these chapters, especially with the game and everything that it led to.

anyways, i think i’ll stop there because i could keep going going going. you’re fucking amazing ryen and i want to kiss your brain so much!

thank you so much, love🥹 this was such a beautiful read and i cannot thank you enough for your support. you've been here a long time! very honored.

[roosterbox]

Stripper Steve/Writer Eddie

Inspired by my results from a NSFW generator tweet, lol. This is just a brainstorming session, mainly so I can put SOMETHING in my WIP folder for this idea.

Said results were: Stripper Steve, Writer Eddie, At a Gay Bar, Size Kink. Simple enough. It could be either a smutty PWP one-shot, or a smutty epic romance. I could see it going either way, but I never met a story I couldn’t spice up by adding romantic clichés.

So Writer!Eddie meets Stripper!Steve at a gay bar. Sparks fly, as they often do. Eddie has a bit of a size kink, and loves how strong and muscular Steve is compared to him. They talk a little bit about their respective professions (especially Steve, who wants to nip any anti-sex work or anti-stripper bias Eddie may have in the bud as quick as possible. He’s been slut-shamed about it way too many times to count; Eddie’s cool with it), and decide to head back to Eddie’s place to have sex. Turns out Eddie has a huge dick, and Steve has a size kink too.

[if this was a PWP one-shot, this is where it would end. But I love to complicate things, lol, and so it continues…]

Initially, the plan is just for a one night stand, but of course, this is Steddie, and they can’t get enough of each other. They start meeting up semi-regularly. And it’s not just sex either. Sometimes they have dinner beforehand. Sometimes one of them spends the night and stays for breakfast. It doesn’t take long for them to develop, ugh, FEELINGS. Eddie, who’s been in a bit of a creative dry spell lately, finds himself able to write again. Sometimes he’ll even read Steve a few passages from his novel in progress (Steve, who is semi-dozing beside him in bed, is only half-listening, but tells him it sounds good).

But eventually, because romance story cliché, some wires get crossed. Maybe Steve realizes he’s catching feelings (caught feelings, really - these boys are down BAD), and breaks things off. Maybe they both say hurtful things they don’t mean. It’s easy to be hurt when you’ve fallen so hard.

Some time later (idk, a year? Don’t press me for details, I’m spitballing here, lol), Eddie’s book comes out. Bestseller, naturally. It’s not specifically a love story, but the love is practically dripping off every page (not like that, ya nasty). It’s textual, but also abstract and symbolic. It’s painfully obvious to anyone who reads it that Eddie was in love, but it didn’t work out. Someone (Robin? Yeah, Robin) lends Steve the book and tells him to read it. Because she is wise and knows all. He does, and is incredibly touched and emotional about it. Because even though people have been teasing him for being “just a pretty face” his whole life (which he’s not of course), even Steve can read between the lines. In fact, he even recognizes a few lines in the book from Eddie reading them to him in bed. Said lines are essentially a love confession. And Steve realizes that even though he might have fucked up worse than anyone has ever fucked up in their life, he needs to see Eddie again. Even if Eddie ends up slamming the door in his face, which he’d deserve, he must.

At Eddie’s place, Eddie doesn’t immediately slam the door, but it’s a near thing. Steve starts off by telling him he read the book. That it was amazing. Talks about the symbolism. Talks about how much he related to the main characters (especially the one obviously based on himself). He’s rambling, a bit nervous and awkward, but it eventually becomes him talking about his own feelings. Getting a bit worked up. There may be a heartfelt apology in there somewhere. He’s essentially baring his entire heart and soul right there on Eddie’s doorstep.

Eddie, for his part, is cold to Steve at first. Which is understandable - he got his heart broken, after all. But the more Steve rambles, the softer Eddie gets, until he can feel tears pricking at his eyes.

“Um,” Steve says, finally losing steam after god knows how long, “well. That’s it I guess. Sorry to just show up here. I’ll let you get back to what you’re doing. I’ll see you around…” That last bit said with the air of ‘I know we’ll probably never see each other again.’

He turns to leave, already planning to head to Robin’s place to raid her ice cream freezer and cry, but before he gets even once step, Eddie grabs him. Pulls him inside. Shuts the door. Practically shoves him against it. He’s surprisingly strong for how skinny he is, as Steve had found out early in their…interactions.

“Steven Middle Name Harrington,” he growls, but he’s smiling. “You are, without a doubt, the single most insufferable human being I have ever met in my life. You leave your dirty socks on the floor, you let dishes sit for too long, your hair clogs the drain more than mine - which, how is that even possible? You have more beauty products than a cosmetics department, you snore like a lumberjack, and you can barely cook anything more advanced than instant ramen. And-“ he pauses. Steve winces; he’s torn because Eddie’s words sound angry, but he’s still smiling? Was that a tear? “And I love you so much it’s made me stupid because here I am, with you in my house again, in my arms, and all I want to do is kiss you silly.”

Steve smiles, letting his tears fall freely now. They both are. He reaches over to cup Eddie’s face in his hands.

“Don’t hold back on my account,” he tries to tease, but to Eddie it sounds more like “I love you too.”

The kiss feels like coming home. A very wet and salty coming home perhaps, but a homecoming nonetheless.

[compacflt]

okay here to pick ur mind…i know you’ve alluded to it throughout WWGTTAI and debriefing but do u think bottoming is something that i’ve struggled with throughout his relationship with mav-especially if he enjoyed it-bc it may have been “more gay” in his mind and therefore harder to excuse due to the inherent misogyny wrapped up in men’s homophobia? it’s something we’ve talked abt in my gender studies classes so i just wanted to know how you think your ice may have approached that due to the repression of his sexuality so throughly and for so long!

as always with questions like this there’s a diegetic (in-universe) answer and a non-diegetic (writing theory) answer so I’ll start with the diegetic answer (not tagging this as nsfw but obv refer to the subject matter & discretion advised):

he isn’t thinking about it. I mean, he has to think about the mechanics of it, because sure there’s a lot of prep work involved, but he’s not really thinking about what it means, because no one’s telling him to. He knows it’s “wrong” —but the whole thing is “wrong,” anyway! The fact that he’s doing anything with Maverick is already wrong... I think he categorizes things as “not-fucked-up” and “yes-fucked-up” in his head, and any form of non-societally-approved contact with another man is “yes-fucked-up,” and there’s not really a sliding scale. Which is why Maverick’s weird extended hug thing right when Ice leaves TOPGUN (ch.4? I forget) is like literally the biggest deal in the world to him. I think Maverick could’ve actually groped him and he would’ve responded the same way. It’s all fucked-up, in his head. No difference between hugging/kissing/fucking/being fucked; it's all the same. There are the rules, and then there’s breaking the rules—no gray area in Ice’s mind (though note, in turn, Maverick’s analysis of Ice bending the rules—there is a gray area, just an unacknowledged one). 

So, yeah, he isn’t really thinking about the implications of the specific act. Maybe he knows that he enjoys it, and that thinking about what it means that he enjoys it would ruin it, so he doesn’t think about it. Also, he’s operating under the unspoken assumption that there’s something “wrong” with Maverick and not with him, because remember that Maverick already confessed to engaging in same-sex acts in ch. 4. There’s something fundamentally “wrong” with Maverick, so anything Ice does automatically looks better in comparison, because (he thinks) his transgressions are isolated incidents, whereas Maverick’s are a known pattern—even if Ice’s “transgressions” amount to literally being fucked by another guy. Hey, well, at least I’m not as bad as rule-breaker Maverick, who does this all the time, apparently! 

In Ch. 8 I was kind of trying to harp on that fact with the use of the word “resentment” during Ice’s discussion of choice/free will—there is kind of a sense that Maverick did this to him against his will, as in, he wasn’t “yes-fucked-up” until he met Maverick/this whole FWB-situation started, and maybe there is some deep-seated resentment about the fact that he might have been “normal” if it weren’t for Maverick (he wouldn’t have been, but he doesn’t realize that). I was close to having him just say this outright in Ch. 8, but as I’ll talk about below, their relationship is already pretty toxic, and there were some lines of toxicity I didn’t want to cross explicitly.

As for the non-diegetic answer, AKA the reason I wrote it this way: I’m kind of hesitant to politicize sociosexual (esp. “hierarchical”) roles in fiction, because I feel like it’s an easy way to betray your own political biases (as a writer) towards male sexual roles—it’s just too slippery of a slope IMO. Especially once you introduce ranks and professional/financial power dynamic differences, I feel like it’s all-too easy to portray the relationship as incredibly and toxically sociopolitically unequal. Yeah, I guess it would make more sense for very-closeted Ice to top 100% of the time, but he’s already “hierarchically” above Maverick 100% of the time anyway—politically, professionally, financially, in terms of social respect, etc. I didn’t want their dynamic to be skewed all the way towards one character having all the social/external/traditionally masculine power, so I didn’t write it like that. That in and of itself is a political decision that betrays my beliefs about male sexuality, and might not make sense in-universe, with characters this repressed, but…I personally felt uncomfortable with the alternative.

I think I’ve explained this a couple times elsewhere, but I wanted Ice & Mav to be true equals in this fic, because it reflects the equality they achieve in canon— “You can be my wingman anytime” vs. “Bullshit, you can be mine.” They are canonically equals. And, yes, of course in a sexual relationship you can be “giver” or “taker” and still be “equal” with the other person, but—like, you see how it would be different, right? If you’re only ever the “giver,” in our society’s traditional understanding of gender roles, you have an insane amount of power over the other person, and I wanted Ice & Mav to be equals when they’re with each other. It’s why I was hesitant having like an actual D/S dynamic with them as well—and the lack of that dynamic is itself a plot point. Ice in ch. 8 rebels against what he thinks their dynamic is—namely, that Maverick always leads/gives the orders, and Ice always follows. He portrays himself as submissive in that moment (“I’ve never had a choice”), but in reality he has just as much control over this relationship as Maverick does—i.e. he is just as “dominant,” and wants it just as bad, he just can’t articulate that. Which is the point of his whole character arc. Their equality is the point, not the transgressiveness of the act itself.

Also related to his character arc is the passivity of the act of bottoming as well, which is maybe why it's "overrepresented" in the story (sorry coming back to add this graf after doing the tags already &then Having A Thought). Like if Ice's whole thing is following orders/not having a choice, which makes him a great naval officer but a deeply flawed and confused person, then it makes sense that his narrative focuses most on the following/passive act of "taking," not necessarily the more leading/active role of "giving." These are simplistic terms obv but hopefully you can see what I'm getting at.

[yuri-ray]

No-Spoilers Review #12: There's No Freaking Way I’ll be Your Lover! Unless… (Watashi ga Koibito ni Nareru Wake Naijan, Muri Muri! (Muri Janakatta!?))

Content Warnings: idk it feels pretty weird how Mai can be so insistent

Jesus fuck that title is long. There's No Freaking Way I’ll be Your Lover! Unless… by Mikami Teren and Musshu is a yuri manga series. Basically, the protagonist just wants to have a platonic bestie, while the other lead wants to have her as her girlfriend.

Is it good? Err..........

I kinda don't like it. It's a little funny maybe for like a chapter or two but honestly, it's not that good...? The two leads just don't read as being very likeable to me.

That said, I'm pretty sure I'm not the target audience anymore, so I think it wouldn't be hard for other people to look past the flaws and have fun.

Renako Amaori wants to be a normal popular girl and tried to make her debut as one in high school, only to fail miserably due to a lack of energy. She meets the "perfect" Mai Ouzuka, who she feels she can finally find a friend in. Then Mai confesses her love to her. Renako, who just wanted a best friend, decides to set up a deal where they'll alternate between being besties and being girlfriends to decide which is superior.

From the outset this series concept doesn't seem well-suited to anything longer than a oneshot, and it really shows over time. (I think it's a little disrespectful to imply that you can't like someone as both a romantic interest and a friend. Obviously I don't think that's what the writer actually means to say, but it's still kinda annoying.)

If Renako doesn't want to date, then Mai should really just respect that and quit. At the same time, Renako should be clear with her instead of stringing her along on this stupid agreement. And at the same time, their chemistry feels nearly nonexistent. Mai always seems to be forcing herself on Renako and it's honestly highkey creepy (she keeps cheating the agreement!), but I also just feel bad for Mai because she's literally not being respected...? They basically have nothing in common, so they never actually properly bond as friends or as girlfriends except on an extremely surface-level "we played video games together" type of situation.

In a different series that could be played as being really interesting, having two flawed and egocentric people as the leads, but the cutesy tone of the story makes it seem like this is just normal when it's actually not very healthy, and it's not funny enough to make up for that.

I mean, this is a yuri series. Of course Mai is going to win. But the whole way there feels more like pulling teeth than a funny romcom.

Final Thoughts:

Oh, I've definitely read much worse. The art is all right and the characters aren't so bad that I have to put the book down, but I don't feel like Renako or Mai have actual complex inner worlds. I think this series is just setting out to be a cute silly rom-com, but the leads feel more like they're 2 tropes each and they're being pushed together "because this is a yuri."

That said, you could very well have a different sense of humor to me and/or just straight up be younger than I am, and you'd probably enjoy this. I mean, I'm still reading it.