#it lifted me out of a terrible space

[iggyywrites]

Keep Up!

Pairings: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Summary: Logan knew moving in with Wade was going to be a bad idea….his next door neighbor doesn’t help with that either

Warnings: 18+ fic, fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s), mentions of alcohol, male masturbation, Logan listens to reader getting fucked, daddy kink, Logan fingers reader, p in v penetration, creampie, making out, nipple play.

An: No one make fun of me for not being able to do Wade’s witty remarks justice, I am just a girl.

Logan knew this wasn’t a good idea.

There was virtually no timeline that existed currently where living with Wade fucking Wilson was a good idea for Logan. He could barely handle speaking to him for thirty minutes, let alone sharing a living space with him.

However, behind the man’s rapid fire tongue that had a copious amount of shit talking to go with it, he was genuine, and as much as Logan hated to admit it…

He didn’t really have anyone in this timeline but Wade.

So, after quite a bit of groaning and grumbling under his own breath, he finally agreed to moving in with Wade, which didn’t take long at all, seeing as he came to this timeline against his will with nothing but his bright yellow hero suit on his body.

To Logan’s surprise, things weren’t terrible his first week there. Wade was annoying, that much was true and inevitable, however he had his own shit to do, which had him out of Logan’s hair most of the time, leaving him all on his own in the tiny two bedroom apartment.

Logan was starting to realize that maybe all of this wasn’t as bad as he cut it out to be. Things started to feel particularly good on the Friday night following the end of his first week there. Wade was nowhere to be found, he had the living room to himself and a nice bottle of whiskey to grant him the sweetest dreams (or lack there of) meaning he could simply enjoy his own company in the comfort of silence that was rare living with Wade. He sighed softly as he sat back, legs spread wide as he took a sip of his drink, sinking down into the couch in a pool of pure bliss-

A knock at the door ripped him away from all of that almost immediately.

He groaned softly, lifting his head as he turned to look at the door, brows furrowed for a moment as he silently threatened whoever it was behind it to knock it again. When they did, he turned his head in the opposite direction to face the clock on the wall, noticing that it was already going into the later hours of the night.

No one should be knocking their door this late.

By the third round of knocks to the door, Logan was fixing his posture, annoyance coursing through his veins at the disruption of his night. Whoever it was that was choosing to knock this many times on their door was in for it at this point.

However, Wade was beating him to it. The man swiftly slipped past Logan, pushing the older man back down into the couch, forcing Logan to fall back with a low groan, the gesture not helping with his growing annoyance.

“She’s here! She’s here!” Wade squealed out like an excited child, skipping and clapping his hands together as he made his way to the door.

“Who the fuck is that-“ Logan’s words were cut off but Wade practically hissing at the man as he whipped his head around to face him.

“Keep your fucking voice down! This is one of the only things I look forward to and I will not let Arthur Morgan ruin this for me. So shut your mouth, and drink your go-go juice, alright angel?” Wade seethed out as he gestured towards Logan’s bottle of whiskey before he turned around, tucking a strand of invisible hair behind his ear before he sighed softly, reaching forward and opening the door.

That’s when you walk in.

Behind the door is you. You’re pretty, young, bright smile plastered on your face, cheeks beaming with happiness as you bounce on your heels, snacks and drinks practically spilling from your arms as you struggle to hold them. Logan doesn’t stop himself from craning his neck forward to get a look at you, watching as you stare up at Wade like he’s your favorite person in the entire world.

Both you and Wade squeal in a way that sounds way too similar, and if Logan wasn’t so fucking confused right now he’d most definitely comment on it.

“There she is! Come to Daddy my little buttercup!” Wade groans as he lifts you up into his arms. A noise that’s a cross between a groan and a giggle leaves your lips as he squishes you to his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as you let him squeeze you tight.

“Wade! You’re…crushing me..” you wheeze out, all while having a bright smile on your face.

“Crushing ensues when you don’t visit me for two weeks. I was planning on shimmying my tight little ass down the air ducts to land straight into your bedroom so we can finish these last two episodes” Wade hummed our matter of factly, casually keeping you pressed against his chest as he kicked the door shut and carried you into the house before setting you down.

Logan’s watching the entire thing play out from the couch, eyebrows raised as he watches someone finally match the man’s hyperactive energy levels.

“I had a cold! I didn’t want to get you sick” you giggle out softly as you turn to face him as you walk into the apartment, still completely oblivious to the other man sitting on the couch.

“Princess have you taken a look at this mug? Influenza sees me and it runs” he grins at you whilst pointing at his face, which only earns a gentle nudge to his side with your elbow.

You finally turn towards the man on the couch, a look of surprise on your face as you take in his face, his form. It doesn’t take very long for you to come to the realization that whoever it is that’s been sitting here this entire time, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen.

You never thought in your entire life that you’d see the Wolverine in person.

“Oh! How rude of me…I didn’t know you were busy Wade” Your voice is soft as you apologize, eyes wide and worried that you’d interrupted something you had no business stepping into. Logan can already see the way your sneaker clad feet are turning to leave, giving both him and Wade an apologetic smile.

“Oh no you don’t. You aren’t using that sweet little understanding bit with me. If Wolvie wants to join in on our weekly Vanderpump Rules watch party, then he can. If he doesn’t, then the honey badger can kick rocks” Wade bends down a bit, giving you an assuring nod as he places his hand on the small of your back.

Logan rolls his eyes as he throws back the rest of his whiskey. “I’m way ahead of you asshole” Logan grumbles out, annoyed with many things already.

“Hold on there beautiful, don’t be rude. Everything that is good and pure in the world is standing in the middle of our apartment and you aren’t going to introduce yourself?” Wade scoffs out in disbelief, his words making you roll your eyes as you give him another nudge.

“Wade it’s fine, he doesn’t have to-“ you try, seeing just how little patience the man had from the few words he’d given you since you walked in.

“My name is Logan, I live here now” he nodded, his words short and brief.

You hate yourself because him acting this way is only making you want him more.

You inhale deeply before you give him a soft smile, the snacks you’d brought still clutched close to your chest, fingers pressing against the crinkly material of the various packages as you nod.

“It’s nice to meet you Logan. My names (y/n). I hope to see you around the building more often” you beam, your response a bit too bubbly and excited for someone who’d been hit with the driest, most bland introduction from a man probably ever.

Logan watches you closely for a bit, eyes taking in your bright expression, your excited eyes that are practically shining with stars in them. You’re young, and eager and Logan knows exactly what kind of girl you are just by the way you’re smiling at him. He’d run into a million different versions of you at bars and clubs, out on the streets when he was on missions, anywhere that he was able to be perceived, he ran into someone like you.

That in and of itself lets Logan know that he needs to stay far away from you.

He gives you a nod before pushes himself off of the couch, lazily grabbing the bottle of whiskey as he begins walking out of the living room towards his bedroom.

He can already hear your feet stepping forward on the wooden floor, so he braces himself for what he knows what’s coming next.

“You’re more than welcome to stay! I know it’s corny but the show is actually very entertaining” you giggle out softly as you offer yours and Wade’s tradition to Logan as well.

“I’m good sweetheart” he mumbles out without even turning around, raising his hand up as he gives you a back handed wave, rounding the corner to his bedroom. “Was nice meeting you” he makes out before slamming his door shut, the noise making you flinch.

You frown softly as you turn to face Wade. “Was it something I said?” You whisper out, worried you might have offended the man

Wade rolls his eyes at his roommates reaction, turning towards you as he extends his hand out, his palm going nearly rigid as he gives you a stiff pat to the head. “We can’t all be as excited about life as you are, angel. Life sucked the fun out of that one before you probably learned how to drive” he sighed out before he pulled you over to the couch.

“Now! If I don’t have Lisa Vanderpump meddling in the love lives of her alcoholic lounge employees in the next five seconds I am going to blow this entire complex up. Let’s get to it sugar plum” he nodded to himself as he forces you down into the couch, grabbing his remote and getting right down to the festivities of that fine Friday night.

You however, had a particularly harder time than usual paying attention to the shitty reality tv show that you and Wade bonded over, and there was only one person to blame.

Logan.

Logan is shocked to be the only one awake the next morning.

His head is pounding from all the whiskey he drank, and he knew he’d be nursing quite the hangover from it all. What he didn’t know however, was that Wade would be slumped in his bed much longer from a night with you than he was.

He’s alone in the kitchen for maybe two hours when Wade finally emerges from his bedroom, a long drawn out groan following as he massages his temples, eyes screwed tight due to the bright sun spilling in.

“Jesus fucking Christ….can’t anyone afford some fucking curtains here? I feel like I’m staring into Satan’s asshole” He groans out, eyes finally opening to watch the mountain of a man standing over a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

“Why hello there sunshine, did the whiskey bottle tug you out of bed early this morning? You’re almost never conscious while the sun is still up” Logan rolls his eyes at his roommates words, bringing the bowl to his lips and slurping up the rest of the milk before he put the empty bowl into the sink behind him, large hand going down to wrap around his coffee mug.

“Look who’s talkin’….you and your friend seemed to have just as much fun as I did” he sighs out, voice gravely and rough.

Wade smiles brightly as he nods, making his way into the kitchen as he lets out a happy sigh. “A (y/n) hangover would bring you to your knees grandpa….although I have the feeling you might not be too opposed to that with how your filthy eyes were eating her up….shes cute isn’t she? Single too. If Vanessa hadn’t swept me off my feet and stolen my heart I would have been ten toes deep into her by now” Wade rambles out as he searches the pantry for something to fill his stomach with.

Logan isn’t shocked to hear that you’re single, and in the best way possible of course. You were very very attractive, however the way that you looked at him let him know everything he needed to know about you.

“I don’t think I asked. She’s not my type” Logan sighs out softly before taking a sip of his coffee.

That wasn’t true at all, not entirely at least. Logan found you attractive from the moment he laid eyes on you. Only an idiot could look at you and try to convince themselves that you weren’t a beautiful girl. However, Logan knew what kind of girl you were. You were a young girl who probably had some sort of fantasy to fuck a ‘dilf’ (as Wade called them) and you’d bat your pretty lashes and pout your lips to get Logan to melt for you, but that was only the half of it. You only wanted to fuck him, to have someone experienced work on your body just to leave and venture out on your own once you were done with him.

Logan was old and miserable and hard to deal with, all things that he was very aware of. Being with him was not a fucking cake walk, and he knew that those twinkles in your eyes when you saw him were all driven by raging hormones that would dissipate once you realized how much of a piece of shit he was.

Logan was too old for this, and he was too old for you.

“Not your type? Of course she’s your type! She’s everyone’s type. That’s like saying Beyoncé isn’t your type and I will not allow you to disrespect the queen…the bee hive is fucking scaring” Wade practically whimpered out before he let out a groan.

“Is it the age gap? Because if it is, they sell pills for that sweetie. It’s a normal part of life that we all go through! There’s nothing to be ashamed of and I’m sure she would understand-“ Wade’s words are cut off by Logan lifting up his hand, the sharp sound of his claws shooting through his knuckles filling the air, making Wade yelp and flinch.

“Keep talking and I swear to god I will cut your dick off every single day so that you don’t even get the chance to use those pills” Logan practically growls out.

“Relax! Jesus Christ you are violent. I’m starting to rethink giving you my spare room asshole” Wade breaths out before he sighs, lifting his hands up in defense before he speaks again.

“Look…all I’m saying, is that a bit of a crush is starting to brew, and she’s a sweet girl! I know for a fact that baby making factory is filled with dust and fucking cobwebs, don’t you think it’s time to get those gears runnin’ again?” Wade rolls his arm like a train as he puts on his best southern accent, which only further annoys Logan.

“She doesn’t even know me. She’ll get over it” Logan nods confidently, ignoring every word that leaves Wade’s mouth as he finishes his coffee, putting it in the sink where he put his cereal bowl earlier.

Wade groans in annoyance. “I am being such a good wing man right now, hooking you up with her? Most people’s friends hook them up with Freddy fucking Krueger and they still end up getting married. I’m giving you a real life fairy from a fucking Barbie movie and you’re turning her down??” Wade practically pleads with the man as he watches him starting to leave the kitchen.

“Hook her up with someone else. I’ll be back later” Logan groans out, not at all wanting to continue this conversation with his roommate any longer.

“Yeah fuck you too grandpa. I hope you get hit by a fucking bus on your way out” Wade groans out as he shovels a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, the man clearly taking offense to Logan not wanting to get to know you better.

“We’ll see if she lets you off this easy…” Wade mumbled under his breath, a soft smirk on his face.

Wade knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you were a whole different ball field of sweetness that Logan was most definitely not ready to handle.

And sweet you were.

By the end of the week, Logan was honestly starting to forget about you and the small cyclone you’d set off in his head ever since he’d seen you that night. He was busy with things around the neighborhood and trying his best to get used to the new world that he was living in. His plate was full and he had no time to think about the silly girl that lived next door to him.

However you didn’t let him forget for much longer.

Because come Friday night, your knuckle is rapping against the door like clock work, interrupting Logan’s alone time in the same way you had the week prior. It’s a silent gesture that it is his cue to leave and give you and Wade the living room for the night.

Logan just about catches a glimpse of you when Wade opens the door, and he notices very quickly how different you look from last time.

Last time, you’d opted for a pretty casual look. Wade had mentioned that you worked at a bar in the city, so he could only assume you came straight from there. Your denim shorts were cute, fit your ass well and he was sure you got many tips from those alone, and your purple halter top went well with your skin tone, but it was nothing fancy or out of the ordinary, just simply a girl in some clothes.

Now? Now you were putting in some effort.

The linen white dress you wore fit you snug at your middle, pushing out your tits a bit, hugging you in all the right places before falling down and flowing out right above your knees. You even went as far as to wear a bit of makeup, your eyelids sparkling a bit, lips glossy.

You’d put in all that effort, just for him.

“Jesus Christ…” Logan mumbled under his breath in disbelief, hating that you’d gone this far for him.

“Are you kidding me! I get your sweaty work clothes and he gets this?? You know he takes the animal thing seriously right? Pees to mark his territory and everything. I am much more pleasant, I promise” Wade complains as he leads you into the apartment, eyes falling down to the small container of cookies in your arms.

“Are these….fuck off. I have been begging you for weeks, and suddenly Jacob from twilight moves in and you’re making them??” Wade gasps out, face slowly turning up to look over at Logan as you giggle softly.

“I made them when you first moved in so I wanted to do the same for Logan…I hope you have a sweet tooth?” You questioned carefully, giving Logan a shy smile as you outstretch your arms to hand the cookies to him.

Wade is watching Logan like he’s your fucking guard dog, ready to pounce on the man the second he even tries to say something mean to an angelic soul like you.

It makes Logan sigh softly, eyes drifting down to the cookies before looking back up at you. “My doctor said I’m not allowed” he lies before bringing his glass of whiskey to his lips, acting as the biggest contradiction as he finishes the remnants of it before he picks up the bottle and turns around to leave.

“Don’t make any noise. I’m going to bed” he mumbles out once more before he slams his bedroom door much like he did the first time you arrived.

Wade groaned as he brought his hands up to pinch the bridge of his nose, quickly reaching out and placing a hand on your soft, exposed shoulder.

“Thank god. I was getting worried I wouldn’t have all of these to myself. Come on, Tom Sandoval doesn’t wait for anybody” he nods his head towards the tv, urging you to sit with him and distract you from how utterly stupid that lie was that Logan spit at you without a second thought.

Wade sighs as he notices the soft pout on your face, your fingers nervously toying with the ends of your dress as you struggle to relax, your head probably overflowing with every reason why Logan would hate you. He reaches out, tugging you closer to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Hey, he’s just a tough one to crack. He’ll come around soon peanut, I promise” he assured you before he shoved his hand into the bowl of cookies, pressing one to your lips.

“Now, say ahh. You deserve to eat one after all the hard work you did, little Betty Crocker” he teases you, making you giggle softly as you shoo his hand away before taking the cookie to eat yourself, finally relaxing into the couch as you let out a gentle sigh.

Logan really hoped that it would stop there, but it doesn’t.

He knows you aren’t stupid, everyone on the entire planet knows that the Wolverine doesn’t go to the fucking doctor. He could drink battery acid if he wanted to and he’d be fine, so him using the excuse of his doctor telling him he couldn’t eat sugar to not eat your food was a crock of shit, but he did it for two reasons.

One, because he didn’t want to have to accept anything from you, it would only had fuel to a fire that Logan knew he couldn’t put out once burnt too brightly. Two, was to kill any glamorizations you had for being with someone of his age. He was an old man, despite being a fucking killing machine, he was an old man. All he wanted to do was drink, smoke, fight a bit when the time called for it, and sleep, and he really could not fit a little girlfriend into that schedule, nor could he rob you of what you wanted and deserved with someone your own age instead of him.

Logan was starting to come to the conclusion that you probably weren’t as smart as he thought you were.

Because unfortunately, you don’t stop there.

For about an entire month, the weeks are filled with you constantly knocking on the door. It slowly goes from you bringing treats on your Friday nights with Logan, to you popping up on various days thought out the week instead.

Logan quickly learns that your love language is food, and you show that by constantly trying to feed him.

First it was the cookies, then you were knocking on his door way too early in the morning, beaming with a bright smile as you shoved a container of breakfast sandwiches into his naked chest.

“These are for you! I made enough for both you and Wade” you smile brightly, plump bottom lip tugged beneath your teeth as you give him a wave before he can deny the food or give it back.

After that, you were dropping off lunch for him. He wasn’t entirely sure how you were doing it, but you managed to always knock whenever Wade wasn’t around, most likely because the two of you were so close you had Wade’s schedule practically memorized, which meant that you were forcing Logan to interact with you whether he liked it or not.

“I’m off to work and I made too much! I hope you like spaghetti” you giggle softly before giving him another one of your signature waves, skipping off down the hallway to leave for work, once again leaving Logan dumbfounded as he stares down at the Tupperware of warm food in his hands.

It was getting to the point where you were practically keeping both him and Wade fed almost completely, rarely failing to share the food you’d made for yourself with them, and always sprinkling in some of your freshly baked pastries and desserts throughout all of that.

The worst part about it? Logan isn’t sure he’s ever had anything so tasty in his entire life.

You seriously knew what the hell you were doing behind a stove or at the oven, and it almost pissed Logan off to admit how much he appreciated the literal meal plan you’d set up for him.

As much as he likes it though, Logan could see exactly what accepting all of this was doing.

He saw it in the way that you’d linger longer and longer every time you dropped something off. What was once a shy little smile and a quick goodbye had now turned into you going into lengthy rants about work or the latest recipe you were stuck on, which Logan found himself always sticking around and listening to despite the fact that he rarely spoke.

That alone made your eyes twinkle, and he could hear how quickly it made your heart beat every time he leaned against the opposite side of the door from you, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he prepared himself for the words that would come out of your mouth on that day.

Logan gave an inch, and you took a mile, and that was the problem. Any attention he gave, he knew you’d take to the extreme, looking far too deep into the details of him being slightly less of an asshole that he usually was.

And on a night where Logan was laying in his bed, his mind replaying the countless times you’d stood at his door to give him food, using it all as an excuse to talk to him for a few minutes and get his attention on you, he knew it was time to cut you down from the root, and stop any dreams you had of the two of them ever amounting to anything more than next door neighbors.

He knew you’d be back eventually, it was only a matter of time until you were back with your latest meal for him. He found himself reciting what he’d say to you over and over again, cementing it into his brain as he pressed his palms against the island top one morning, eyes staring off into space as he mindlessly grabbed his coffee and took a sip.

knock knock knock!

The sound is familiar and it practically haunts Logan in his fucking dreams, the soft sound of your fists rapping against the door. He sighs softly because he knows you’re behind it, big bright smile on your face as you hold god knows what in your hands to gift to him.

“Morning Logan!” You beam, bright eyed and bushy tailed as you give him a small wave before you look down at the container before stretching your arms out to hand to him.

“You seemed interested last time I mentioned that breakfast quesadilla recipe I was working on…and I think I got it!” You’re so excited, and Logan lets out a soft sigh as he eyes you carefully before he pushes his hand gently against the container so that it’s back against your chest.

“I…look kid….I don’t…” his words trail off, feeling bad as you simply stare up at him with those big eyes and that happy smile, looking at him as if he’s the only person you want to see right now, waiting for him to say whatever it is he can’t do.

“You’ve gotta stop this” he tries to reason with you, his forearm pressed against the top of the door as he stares down at you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you watch him, shaking your head a bit as your voice goes low. “I….what?” Your voice trembles a bit, because you know what’s happening, you’ve been here before. You’ve gotten yourself into this same fucked up mess of liking someone so much that you couldn’t even see that they didn’t like you back, going on a power trip of showering them with so much affection that you didn’t even realize they’d been trying to stop you from the very beginning.

It was happening again.

Logan knows that he can’t let you down easy. You’re too sweet, too understanding, and he knows that if he isn’t blunt with you, giving you the harsh truth, that you’ll just feed into the nice things that he says rather than looking at the bigger picture.

So he sighs, looking over your head for a moment before he finally looks back down at you.

“You’re just…you’re not my kind of girl, alright? Someone like you, could never be with someone like me and that just is the way it is….so quit it with the food deliveries, alright?” He’s stern, speaking to you like a child who refuses to listen, voice growing louder and rougher as he towers over you.

“There’s nothing you can make for me or do for me that will make me want you” He adds salt to the wound with that one, wanting his words to get through to you loud and clear

Logan knows it’s already coming, those big eyes filling with tears that make your eyes shimmer like swimming pools, mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find the words to respond with before you give a slight nod, quickly looking away once the tears spill out into your cheeks, your hands coming up to wipe them away roughly.

“I…fuck…I’m sorry..” is all you say before you quickly rush away from the door, mortified as you open your own apartment door and slam it behind you, the sound making Logan groan softly before he closes his own door.

Of course you apologized. Here he was, crushing your dreams for his own sake and you fucking apologized. It only further cemented how wrong you and him were if he were to ever give you a chance, you were too good, too nice, and Logan could only hope that you found someone else who could give you what you wanted and what you deserved.

As for him? He wanted to focus on the relief he’d soon feel settle in now that he didn’t have to face you every other day anymore. He could only hope that you little stunts would come to a halt after all of this.

Logan doesn’t really have to hope for you to not come around, because he doesn’t see you for a long time after that.

At first he assumed it would just be a day or two until you were back for Wade, the two of you never going long without at least chatting in the hallway for a quick recap of your day or your week, however it’s the end of the week and neither Logan nor Wade have heard from you at all.

There are no knocks at the door, no more pastries or yummy meals with your name written all over them, it’s almost as if you don’t even live in the same complex anymore.

And when that Friday rolls around and you never show up either? Logan knows he’s fucked up.

Logan is thankful that Wade isn’t too freaked out over you being absent that week, seeing as he’d explain that this wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for you. Although Logan knew what it was that pushed you away from the apartment, he was more than willing to let Wade believe work had drained you a bit more than usual that week, pulling you away from him.

By the third week though? Wade is pissed.

It’s Friday night, and he’s pacing the living room in front of Logan, his arms crossed as he shakes his head.

“I don’t get it! She’s only ever gone two weeks without coming by and that’s because she had a cold, and she told me! I haven’t heard from her in so long, I feel like I’m a fucking military wife waiting for her husband to write her back!” Wade whined out, desperate for an answer behind your disappearance.

Logan couldn’t even look at Wade, guilt eating away at him as his fingers wrapped around the ice beer bottle in his hand, simply letting the man walk around searching for answers when the reason behind his friends absence was sitting right in front of him.

“Fuck this. If she wants to stop being my friend she’s going to have to man the fuck up and tell me herself. Im going over there myself” he huffs out in annoyance, moving towards the front door.

Logan is on his feet before Wade can make it any further, stepping between him and the door as he shakes his head.

He knew that what happened needed to come from him, not you.

“Slow down…I…I know why she’s not coming around anymore” Logan makes out slowly, his words makes Wade raise his eyebrows.

“Anymore? What the fuck did you do, kill her or something??” Wade’s eyes are wide, and it makes Logan roll his eyes at the dramatics before he shoves him over towards the couch.

“Go sit down” he orders before he follows behind, singing softly as he sits next to Wade, avoiding his eyes as he speaks.

“She was coming around a lot and I…I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea so…I just…I told her she needed to stop” Logan shrugged nonchalantly as he gave a horrible retelling of what happened between the two of you.

Wade on the other hand, knew you very well, and he knew that you were probably the most understanding person on the entire fucking planet, so Logan had to probably say some fucked up shit to make you avoid them like the fucking plague, so bad that he probably made you-

“You fucking idiot. You made her cry, didn’t you” Wade visibly gets angry when he comes to this conclusion, making Logan snap his head in his direction quickly because how the fuck did he come to that conclusion so quickly?

“I…so you did talk to her?” Logan questions carefully, his words making Wade groan loudly as he stands up, pressing his face in his hands.

“You are….oh my god you are probably the dumbest person I have ever fucking met. Charles Xavier would be very ashamed of this behavior Logan!” Wade practically sobbed before he shook his head once again.

“You do realize she’s just a girl, right? She’s not some villainous asshole trying to do experiments on you or something. A simple ‘I’m not interested’ would have sufficed” Wade groans out in annoyance before he walks back towards the door.

“I am going to try and save one of the only friendships I have, and leave you here to think about how you are going to save ours, because after this stunt I am not sure I will ever let you touch me again” he huffs out softly before whipping his head away from him in disgust before he swings the door open, slams it shut and leaves to your apartment, leaving Logan there by himself.

Wade’s words echo in his head, making him realize that you really are just a girl, a girl who had an innocent crush that he brutally stepped on and smashed into a thousand little pieces when he could have easily told you he wasn’t interested in you.

Logan hated it, but he felt guilty.

He’s happy to hear that you and Wade were able to mend things together, the two of you opting to spend weekends in your home rather than his from now on, leaving Logan to the peace and quiet that he’d always wanted.

Although, it isn’t what he wanted, it isn’t what he wanted at all because he finds that he’s missing something. He’s missing the smell of your cookies or cinnamon rolls or whatever the fuck it is that you bring over, he’s missing the sound of yours and Wade’s laugh across the way as he tries to sleep, and he especially misses the little front door chats you and him would share whenever you stopped by for him.

Because over the course of the time that he’d lived there, he’d see you at least once every week, your bright smile filling his days and making him feel warm inside.

But now the last memory he had of you was you crying in front of him before running away.

Logan tries to drown out those annoying thoughts as he usually does, with alcohol. He comes home drunk on a Saturday night, stumbling in through the front door as he tugs off his leather jacket, kicks off his boots and stumbles into his bedroom to fall face first into his bed.

He’s able to forget about you for a bit, annoyed that your pretty face had been plaguing him for days on end. Right now he just wants to sleep and enjoy the warm floaty feeling that comes with a good cup of-

“Oh my god” Logan makes out the faint sound of your voice through the thin walls of the apartment.

He realized the first night he’d moved in that his bedroom was adjacent to yours when he was going to sleep and he could hear you shuffling about your bedroom.

Every night he’d hear little things, sometimes he’d hear the small sound of your music while you got ready, or he’d hear you giggling softly to someone as you spoke to them on the phone, he’d even heard a loud thud followed by an annoyed groan from you, which he could only assume was you stubbing your toe or running into something.

Logan had heard you a lot, and while most times he was too drunk or tired to ignore it, the sounds he was hearing now were….they were foreign for you. He’d never heard your voice pitched that way, high and whiny…he wondered if you were okay, were you crying?

“Fuck…fuck!”

There it was again.

It had Logan frowning as he turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he squinted a bit, straining to hear more of what was going on.

“That’s it baby…so good for me…” another voice groaned out, muffled and lower, too deep to have been your own. That, paired with a slow rhythmic thumping, and Logan wasn’t confused anymore.

You were getting fucked.

Logan tried very hard not to think about you this way, splayed out on a bed in front of him, eyes red and glossy as you beg for him to give you more, needy for any sort of attention that he'd give you. He knew that you were something he couldn't feed into...

Because he knew he'd like it too much.

Yet here you were, moaning so pretty for another fucking man with a bit of dry wall separating the two of you, and it was making Logan's head spin.

His chest swelled with different emotions, anger, annoyance, jealousy, envy.....

Lust

You sounded so fucking pretty, and as much as he hated that it was someone else making you feel that way, subjecting him to a fucking audio porno, he couldn't deny the tent that was growing in his jeans.

Logan groaned softly as he propped himself up, eyes low as he stared down at his throbbing cock through his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to take the place of the idiot that was in your bed making you moan like that.

Another loud moan rumbled through the walls, making Logan's eyes flutter shut and roll to the back of his head as he took in your noises.

He wondered how you'd sound for him, what you would say, if you would beg for him. God, you probably sounded so fucking good when you begged, so pretty, so fucking sweet for him. You were so eager for him, so eager to please, there was no doubt in Logan's mind that you would be the perfect girl for him.

You were practically begging him for it the weeks prior.

His hand made its way to his jeans, undoing his belt and popping them open before tugging his cock out, hissing softly as he laid back, head resting against the pillow as his fist wrapped around his length, slowly working on his sensitive skin as he let his mind travel to more thoughts of you as your moans sang him the symphony that matched perfectly with it.

His fist moved up and down over his length, spreading his precum as he thought about what you'd taste like, how you'd feel pressed against his tongue while he did just this. He imagined you'd taste perfect, the best pussy he's ever had if you'd ever let him.

Another string of moans makes its way into his bedroom, and it has him bucking his hands up into his fists, growing closer as he chases his orgasm to the sound of your voice.

Logan felt like a fucking pervert, stroking his cock while you were getting fucked by someone else right next door. That could have easily been him had he not fucked things up with you royally, he thought.

"Im gonna cum..." you mewl out, Logan can practically hear the pathetic little pout on your lips as you announce it, and he can't stop himself from groaning out softly as he bites back a moan in fears that you'll hear him too.

"Me too baby..." He growls out between gritted teeth.

He's fucking his hand at this point, the sounds of your moans and visions of you under him driving him closer to where he needed to go, he finally cums when he hears you moan loudly, knowing that was it. Thick ribbons of his pearly cum fly out of him, making the man sigh softly as he slowly rides out his orgasm with a few strong strokes from his hand.

Logan is old and gross and truly can't be bothered with the clean up, so he opts to grab a nearby t shirt and clean himself off before he tugs his jeans off, tosses them into the corner with the rest of his clothes and turns onto his side, pulling his pillow over his ears in fears of you and that jackass going another round while he sleeps.

He wants to sleep before embarrassment can take over, because he knows what he's done is beneath pathetic. He would much rather deal with it all in the morning.

Because despite how embarrassed he feels, he needs to orchestrate some sort of plan to speak to you.

Logan knew that getting you to talk to him was not going to be an easy feat. You ran from him any time you two ended up in the hallway together, and you made it a point to never be in the same place with him for two long.

So he had to be smart with this, and he needed a full proof way to get you to speak for him for more than a few seconds.

He figured trying to convince you as himself was a lost cause, there was no way you would even give him the time of day to ask for a bottle of water let alone talk to you about his feelings.

However, you would most definitely listen to him if he were Wade.

Now, Wade most definitely would not do this for Logan. There was no way in hell Wade would risk your feelings for that, he was way too protective over you for that. He was weary of Logan when it came to you now, and rarely brought you up unless Logan asked....

Which he did quite a bit now.

He was able to snag Wade's phone while he was taking a shower, getting ready for one of his little dates with Vanessa (they were going to meet up at a bar and then fuck the entire weekend).

Logan had limited time, because Wade was already on Rewrite the Stars off The Greatest Showman soundtrack, so he had to work fast.

He stood outside of the bathroom with the door cracked to swiftly put the phone back when he was done, the man groaning in annoyance as he clicked through Wade's endless screens of stupid games with clickbait-y ads that are designed to lure children in to find his messages.

When he finally finds them, he's quick to click the icon with a picture of you and Wade and the contact name angel baby.

Logan knew he had to put on his best Wade impression for this, so he inhales deeply before his fingers slowly tap across the screen.

me: Hey baby cakes! Wolvie's gone for the night, vanderpump at mine? Like old times?

angel baby: Hi! You sure? I don't mind doing it here!

me: I have wayyyy better drinks here. See you soon!

angel baby: fineee I'll be there after work

Logan lets out a breath he was holding for what felt like forever before he quickly slips Wade's phone back into the bathroom on the sink counter, closing the door slowly before rushing out of there to make himself seem as casual as possible.

Wade is out about twenty minutes later, a clear pep in his step. It makes Logan chuckle softly, bringing his beer to his lips as he nods towards his roommate. "Hot date tonight huh?" Logan hums out.

Wade hums softly as he nods, biting his bottom lip as he gives Logan an excited smile. "You bet I do. I am getting laid tonight buddy, I refuse to be the roommates that everyone thinks fuck...unless" his words trail off as he gives Logan a look, wiggling his eyebrows (or lack there of) as he opens his hands and gives him a little spin, shaking his ass at the end.

Logan chuckles as he puts a hand up. "Im good" He refuses before taking another sip of his beer, watching as Wade reaches down to grab a shot glass and a bottle of tequila, pouring some out for himself as he throws it back. "Liquid courage how I love you...its your loss man. I'll go give myself to a woman who actually knows how to fuck" He nods to himself before pouring out another shot, throwing it back and giving Logan a wave as he makes his way to the front door.

"See ya Monday Wolvie!" He chirps out as he leaves with a peace sign, his antics making Logan chuckle softly as his eyes drift over to the bottle off tequila.

He could use some of that with having to face you.

Logan sighs as he gets up, pouring himself a shot and throwing it back before he pours one more and throws that back before he tosses the bottle back into its reserved cupboard, moving to the couch to wait for your inevitable arrival.

knock knock knock!

It comes almost an hour later, the sound making Logans heart seize up, recognizing the familiar knock as if it were his own fucking heartbeat. He inhales deeply, stopping by a nearby mirror and checking himself out before he exhales deeply, moving to open the door.

"I'm a little late! I had to stop at the store to get the proper necessities-" Your words are cut off when you finally look up to see Logan instead of Wade, your face dropping as your mouth hangs open for a moment.

Logan want's to die just from that look in your eyes because you look fucking terrified, you even go as far as taking a step back as you give a nervous laugh.

"Oh...sorry Logan..is umm...is Wade around? He told me to come over..." You quickly explain, quickly fearing that the man will have more mean words for you for knocking on his door again.

It breaks Logan's heart because you don't have that twinkle in your eye anymore, nor do you have that excited smile on your pretty face when you see him and it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

"No he actually just left, you just missed him" He explains with a shrug and a soft apologetic smile.

You clear your throat awkwardly as you nod slowly. "Uhh...No worries! He probably had something to do....could you maybe tell him I was here when you see him? Sorry for bothering you" You mumble out before giving him a tightlipped smile and an awkward wave before you sigh, turning to leave at that.

Bothering him? God, he had really fucked up, hadn't he?

"Wait!" Logan calls out, stepping out into the hallway to catch you before you've made it into your own apartment.

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows at the man. He groans softly as he stares at you for a moment before he looks back into the apartment, inhaling deeply as he remembered Wade's words

She's just a girl.

"I don't uh...know much about that Vanderpump thing but...I'm not busy, if you wanted someone to watch with tonight?" He sighs out sheepishly, giving you a small smile.

You stare at him for a moment, a soft frown on your lips as you clutch your snacks closer to your chest, using them as somewhat of a shield for your poor heart. You couldn't trust Logan, and you weren't sure if your heart could take anymore of the mean things that he said to you.

"You don't have to pity me or anything....I'm not a child, Logan" You explain to him, voice small and quiet as your frown deepens, your hand coming down to grip your door knob as you let out another sigh.

"Have a goodnight..." You try your best to end it, and it makes Logan groan softly as he quickly rushes towards you, putting his large hand over yours on the doorknob, stopping you from opening it further.

The sudden closeness makes your eyes widen, staring up at the man as his large hand squeezes over yours, the feeling making your heart flutter with excitement.

“I….please….let me makeup for being such a dick the last time we spoke…you deserve it” he nodded, eyes staring deeply into yours as he gives your hand one more squeeze.

You swallow nervously as you stare up at him, hating how warm you feel with him being so close, especially after he was so fucking mean to you all those weeks ago.

You sigh softly before your hand slowly falls from your doorknob, giving Logan a small nod.

“Yeah….okay” you agree with him before you look over to the opened door of his apartment, giving the man a small smile.

“Lead the way Wolvie” you tease him gently, the sound of your playful voice making Logan chuckle softly with you as he sighs in relief, leading you back to his apartment.

Logan can kiss his lucky stars over the fact that you actually agreed to coming back to the apartment with him. Wade was right when he said you’re the must understanding person on the planet.

He finds it hard to focus on the show when you’re this close to him, head resting against the back of the couch as you babysit a bag of sour patch, giggling softly whenever one of the insufferable Los Angeles characters complain about their boyfriend of their girlfriend cheating on them with someone else in their friend group.

It’s hard to focus when you’re this close to him, because he’s never been with you this way before.

You had been on Logan’s mind almost 24/7 since he first met you, and now that he had you with him alone, he didn’t know how to talk to you or how to interact with you. He felt nervous that he would open his mouth and say something stupid.

To sum it up, he was almost 200 years old yet a 20 something year old girl knew how to communicate her feelings better than he did.

You hum softly as you finally look up at him, pouting softly at how stiff the man looked in your presence. "You alright Logan? We can watch something else if you want" You hum out softly as you move to sit criss crossed on the couch, turning your body to face his.

Logan shakes his head as he reaches for the remote, knowing that he would not be able to focus with the sound of three Californian girls fighting over a man named Todd. "Let's talk for a bit....I wanna get to know you more" Logan sighed out softly as he turned to face you a bit more as well, watching as your face beams with excitement over his interest in you.

"Im an open book....what do you wanna know?" You open up as you take a sip of your beer, giving Logan a soft smile.

That was all it really took for you and Logan to actually hit it off, the mans anxiety melting away at the thought of talking to you once he realized how easy going you were. He was able to learn so much about you within the hours that you and him spoke, and before he knew it, it was almost 2 in the morning and you two had been talking since around 9.

"College sucks...Im literally either there or at the bar....its why I find nights with Wade so important" You sighed softly as you explained, your face falling as you pouted a bit.

Logan smiled fondly at you, the many easily seeing how you wore your feelings on your face, you were so expressive, so clear with how you were feeling and open with your emotions.

You truly were an open book.

Logan licked his lips as he brought his beer to his lips, taking a sip as he watched you carefully. Something burned inside of him. something that desperately wanted to grill you about what it was he heard that night through the wall, who it was you were with, if you were still seeing him or not.

"Yeah? Any time for dating then?" He hums out, pink tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips as he settles back into the couch. One of his legs were trapped along the couch, caging you in as the other rested on the floor, knee bent as his hand rested on it, legs spread right in front of you.

His question catches you off guard, eyes widening a bit as you try to register if he's asked the question that you think he asked, and if he is, does he mean it in a friendly way?

He has to, right? A man doesn't tell you that he doesn't want you just to grill you about your love life.

You inhale deeply as you try to find the right words to say, wondering how deep you should get into the current state of your love life.

You give Logan a shrug as you take a sip of your beer. "I try....my love life is in shambles though....I truly can't remember the last time I had a decent date" You frown, your words honest as you scrunch your nose in disgust as you think back to the horrible men you've dated.

Logan raises his eyebrows in disbelief at your words before he nods slowly, taking a sip of his drink before he sighs. "Mm...the things I heard through the walls would beg to differ Princess" Logan shoots back without a second thought.

Your eyes widen as you think back to a few nights ago, throwing your head back as you find yourself cringing in embarrassment over the fact that Logan had fucking heard you.

"You heard that? Logan oh my god that is....that is so disgusting on my end I am so sorry, I promise it won't happen again" You ramble, making a mental note to never fuck in your bedroom again as long as Logan was living across from you.

You were going to be having shower sex only.

Logan chuckles softly as he shakes his head, holding his hands up in defense before he speaks. "Oh no need, you sounded like you were having quite the time....don't stop on my account" He smirks at you.

Knowing that you had not the slightest inkling that he was stroking his cock to the very sound of you getting fucked.

You groan softly as you take a healthy swig of your drink, Logan watching closely before he hums out once more.

"New boyfriend?" he questions again, eyes growing darker as he uses the conversation as a gateway into more important things.

You scoff softly as you shake your head. "God no....he's just a guy from my psych class....we met at a party and he took me home and...im sure I can spare you the gory details" You giggle softly before you sigh, moving to rest your head against the back of the couch as you watch the man across from you.

Logan nods slowly, bottom lip tugged beneath his teeth as he listens to you before he speaks.

"Just a guy hum....interesting" Logan nods slowly as he tosses back the rest of his beer before he sets the empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of the both of you, strong hands resting along his denim clad thighs, eyes never leaving yours.

"Forgot about me already baby?" he drawls out, voice low and gruff, dripping with lust as he watches you closely for your reaction.

His tone and words make you perk up, breath hitching in your throat as you face the man completely. His words shoot straight down to your core, making you swallow back a whine as you stare at him with a dumfounded expression.

"I....Logan..." You sigh out softly, your hands resting on your knees and balling into fists as you physically try to stop yourself from doing something you knew you couldn't do.

Logan chuckles softly as he shrugs. "It's true....you forgot all about me princess....it's okay though, I deserve it don't I?" he questions, watching as you silently watch him from across the couch.

When you don't answer, he's quick to pull it out of you. "Answer me baby" His demand makes you flinch softly and you quickly nod before you respond.

"Yeah...you did deserve it..." You agree with him.

Logan nods with you, a soft hum leaving his lips as he watches you. "I did...was so mean to you and you were just being the sweetest thing to me..." He hums softly, watching as you slowly grow softer for him with every word he spoke.

"It's alright baby....did he at least make you cum? I heard you, you know....when you said you were there? sounded so pretty...." He groans softly, a prominent tent forming in his jeans at the mere thought of your moans.

He's shocked when he hears a tiny one leave your lips, your eyes shooting down to his growing cock. It makes him smirk softly, pride filling his chest as he moves his hand down to palm himself before he nods at you.

"Eyes up here baby...thats it..." He nods slowly when he finally has his eyes back on yours.

"Now...answer my question" He urges you once more, his voice deliciously low and gravely, the sound making you squirm in your spot on the couch.

You inhale deeply before you shake your head. "I faked it..." You mumble under your breath, fighting the embarrassment that threatened to creep up your spine.

Logan felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

Because not only were you here with him, but that idiot that got the chance to be with you couldn't even make you cum properly...which only left more room for him to come in and do the job properly.

"You poor thing....I was afraid of that..." He groaned softly before he pat his hand along his lap, calling you over to him.

"C'mere peach...let daddy show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel..." He hummed out softly.

It was all you needed to come crawling over to him like a bitch in heat.

You moaned softly once you were settled down in his lap, either one of your plush thighs straddling his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you stared down at him with needy eyes, bottom lip tugged between your teeth.

Logan groaned softly, strong hands coming down to grip your waist, tugging you closer as he leaned in, pressing his nose against your collar bone and growling at how fucking good you smelled.

"Atta girl....go on then baby, give daddy a kiss..." He ordered once more.

You wasted no time in pressing your lips to his, moaning softly into his mouth as you tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You're so...fucking sweet, and sugary, and the dulcet sounds of your moans drives Logan absolutely insane, the older man gripping your waist tightly as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, tainting you for anyone who ever dares to kiss you after he has.

Logan groans into the kiss when he feels you rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your pussy against his bulge.

"Needy huh? Want daddy to help you baby? Yeah?" He groans out, your forehead resting against his as you nod, breathing heavily as you continue grinding down onto his bulge.

Logan chuckles softly as he nods, his hand going around your middle before he flips you around, tugging you down so that your back is pressed against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as he hums softly.

His hands trail down your body slowly, the little top you have on has a tie at the front, one that if Logan so much as flicks, will come undone. It makes him smirk softly as he takes one of the strings between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging at it slowly until your boobs bounce free, making him hiss softly.

"Fuck, look at that....such a pretty girl...." His hands look so rough along your soft skin, calloused fingers running along either one of your tits, cupping and massaging them delicately before he brings your nipples into his finger, twisting them slightly before he goes back to cupping them all over again.

You're so sensitive, so responsive to his touch. Your hand goes up to cup your hand over his thats working on your boobs, your hips bucking up into nothing as your other hand goes up and around Logan to hold onto his head.

"Logan...please..." You moan softly, your words making Logan smirk softly as he nods, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Im here baby....just enjoying all of you first" He explains before his hands go down your body.

Soon enough, he's unbuttoning your denim jeans, one of his hands coming up to raise your hips as he tugs them off your legs with your panties in one swift move before tossing them somewhere else in the living room.

Logan lets out a low gasp when his neck cranes down against your shoulder to look down at the mess between your legs, his strong hands creeping down to where you need him the most, your own hands pressing against his thigh.

"Fuck princess....so wet already....all this for me?" He hums out softly.

Either of his hands go down between your legs, pressing right against either one of your lips as he massages you softly, the feeling making your eyes roll back as your head falls against Logan's shoulder.

He smirks softly, his head coming down to attach his lips to your neck as one of his hands comes up to hold your hips down, pressing you flush against his body whilst the other starts rubbing your clit slowly.

"Such a good girl...letting daddy apologize for being so mean...thats it baby...fuck...thats it...." He urges you on further as his skilled fingers slowly works on your clit, your moans like music to his ears as he gives you exactly what you needed.

"Daddy...im....fuck....don't stop" You whine softly, gripping his wrist as he continues playing with your pussy, the feeling making your eyes roll. You're damn near drooling and all the man is doing is rubbing your clit for you.

It makes Logan chuckle softly, his fingers speeding up as his lips unlatch from your neck so he's able to look down at you, not wanting to miss the fucked out state of bliss written all over your face that's coming to you all because of him.

"Come on baby....cum all over your daddy's fingers, give it to me princess" He growls, picking up the pace as he begins grinding his hard on into your ass from behind, matching the way your hips roll to chase the rhythm of his fingers.

You're squirming so much at this point, a moaning mess as Logan holds you down by your hip, forcing you to take what he gives you, not giving you the chance to run away from the pleasure he so desperately wants to give to you.

"Oh my god! Im gonna fu-ahhh!" You moan loudly, back arching off of Logans chest as you cum hard all over his fingers.

Logan moans with you, watching in awe as you become a puddle of nothing but moans and gasps as you come down from your high, his fingers working slowly on your swollen pussy as your arousal drools out onto his fingers, forcing them to slip around and lose their place as he works on you.

"That's a good girl...thats daddy's good fucking girl....thats it....im right here baby...daddys gotchu" He praises you, soft whines and moans leaving your lips as his rough hands move from your pussy to instead run along your body, holding you, massaging you, making it known that he was indeed there with you.

It takes a few minutes for you to catch your breath properly, when you do, you finally feel Logans very large bulge pressing into your ass.

He's too busy pressing kisses along your throat and jaw, working his way up to your cheek and the corner of your lips to make sure you were there with him and comfortable.

"Logan..." You mumble softly before you roll your hips down against his cock, your eyes locking with his as you stare up at him with a needy glint in yours.

Logan raises his eyebrows at your actions, holding onto your hips as he guides you to grind down onto his lap.

"You want daddy's cock baby? Is that it?" He questions, his words alone making you moan softly as you nod, your hand coming up and tugging his head down to press against your lips.

"Please fuck me daddy..." You moan against him, pushing your tongue into his mouth as you swallow his groans.

He nods against you, silently reaching between the two of you to undo the button to his jeans and pulling his cock out, tongue playing with yours as he sits you both up a bit before he grabs both of your thighs, lifting you up and making you gasp softly.

"Don't worry princess...Daddy's got you..." he assures you before he slowly sinks you down onto his cock.

Both of you moan softly in unison, his length filling you up completely, making your eye roll back as as he settles you down onto his lap.

"Logan...L-Lo...you're so big...fuck" You gasp out, struggling to even form words properly as Logan's arms wraps around your waist, holding you close against his chest as he slowly starts to fuck up into you.

"You can take it baby...fuck...such a tight little pussy...so fuckin' good for me...takin' me so well angel" Logan growled against you, lips pressed against your back as he found a steady rhythm in fucking you.

You're a moaning mess. Logan is so big, and he fills you up so well, better than anyone ever has, and it makes you feel like you'll fucking cry because of how good it feels.

Logan growls every time your pussy tightens around him, wrapping him up and keeping him so warm. He’s forgotten how fucking good it feels to be this close to someone, hearing such pretty moans….

Logan thinks he could get used to this….

Logan thinks he could get used to you.

“Come on baby….give it to me…cum all over my fuckin cock” He urges you, wanting nothing more than to feel your pretty pussy spasm on his length.

You gasp softly, struggling to hold your head up as he defiles you from down below, making a mess of your pussy as he pounds into you like a wild fucking animal, the feeling foreign to anything you’ve ever experienced for. He’s like a machine, and his skilled cock as your head spinning.

“Daddy…daddy I…I can’t…you’re gonna make me cum-“ your words are cut off by just that, a loud shriek ripping through your lungs as you cum hard all over Logan’s cock just like he asked of you.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl, fuck yeah…you want Daddy to cum inside you baby? Yeah? Want Daddy to fill up this pretty pussy?” He growls out, his own eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought of cumming inside your pussy, filling you up and making him as your own.

You’re nodding like an idiot, all dumb and cock drunk as the pleasure fades and the overstimulation takes place, making your mind fuzzy and the world around you dull, the only thing you’re able to focus on being Logan.

“Please…want you to cum inside Daddy….wanna be yours” you moan out softly, your eyes rolling back as you allow Logan to continue fucking up into you mercilessly, turning your brain into mush with every thrust.

“All mine baby…all Daddy’s…fuck…that’s it baby…let daddy fill up this little pussy….fuckfuckfuck” Logan growls out, his moans strangled as he pulls you down roughly onto his lap, his cock twitching with every spurt of cum, painting your insides with his seed as his large hands press your sweaty body flush against his.

You both sit there like that for quite a while, his hands massaging your skin, thumbs rubbing small circles into your abdomen as you both try to catch your breath, the come down sucking all of the energy out of both of you while you enjoy the warmth of being connected to one another.

After a moment passes, you’re finally the one to break the silence, a gentle smirk on your face as you turn around a bit to face Logan.

“So….I guess it’s safe to say I am your type of girl after all?” You tease the man as you recall the words he’d said to you all those weeks ago.

It makes Logan groan softly as he cringes at himself, finally giving in and resting his chin against your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he nods.

“Yeah….I guess you are princess…”

[wttcsms]

come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)

ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )

pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist

If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…

Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.

“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”

“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 

Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.

“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 

This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.

Kuroo always knows what to do. 

And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 

The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.

You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 

“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 

“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.

Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 

“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.

Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 

“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”

“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 

“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 

Oh. 

You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 

“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.

“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 

“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 

Kuroo smiles. 

“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 

You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 

For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 

You can only nod in agreement. 

“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”

A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 

“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 

While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—

“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 

You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 

Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 

“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 

“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 

“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 

“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 

You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 

Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 

“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 

Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 

“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 

He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 

You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 

He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 

Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 

He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 

You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 

You did nothing wrong. 

He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 

“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.

It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 

“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 

“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 

“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 

Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 

Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 

Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 

He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 

Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 

“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 

The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.

“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 

And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.

Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 

Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 

But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.

You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.

However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.

Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.

When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 

You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 

“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”

“R-really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 

Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 

“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 

He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 

“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”

His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”

You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 

“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 

“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 

You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 

“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

(thinking about this post a bit)

“You weren’t asking me to move in with you,” Tommy said with a terrible, sad smile. “You were asking your boyfriend.”

Buck squinted, confused. “You… are my boyfriend?” That strained smile somehow became more terrible, and Buck realized he’d slipped up.  “Were. Were my boyfriend.”

Tommy sighed. “Quick pop quiz for you, then. Name three of your former boyfriend’s hobbies.”

Bucks brow furrowed deeper, but for the moment he decided to play along. “Uh, movies? Basketball. MMA, Muay Thai, stuff like that.”

Tommy nodded. “Full points. Now, basketball is not something I play at home, so that’s not relevant, and I can see exactly where my DVD collection would fit, no problem.  Muay Thai, though… where does my equipment go, here?  My mat and bag? And, hey, here’s a hobby you didn’t mention: tinkering with classic cars.  Where does my car lift go, Buck?  Because it sure can’t go in that parking space out front.”

Buck felt his face starting to go red, and dropped his eyes.  “You’ve made your point,” he mumbled.

“Have I?  And what is that, then?”

“That I wasn’t thinking about you, when I asked you to move in.”

“No, you weren’t,” Tommy agreed.  “The same way you weren’t thinking about me when you talked about this cool, confident, comfortable gay guy you admire.  I didn’t come out until after gay marriage was legalized, Buck.  There’s nothing impressive about how many people I hurt—myself included—by being unable to live with my truth.  And I don’t—I don’t have gay friends, you know?  I’m not in the community that way. I’m not an activist; I don’t even go to Pride.  That guy you were talking about—he does sound admirable.  He sounds great.” Tommy’s voice cracked.  “But he doesn’t sound like me.”

Unable to bear the silence, Buck fidgeted with his shirtsleeve and asked, “So… that’s why you broke up with me?  Because I didn’t know you well enough?”

Tommy looked away. “I broke up with you because that conversation made it very clear to me that you were falling for some better version of Tommy Kinard that you’d made up in your head.  And maybe I contributed to that. We never really discussed heavy topics much, not even our dating histories.” Buck chuckled a little at the reference, and for a split second Tommy smiled for real. It hurt to see, and hurt more to see it so briefly. “But I knew. Even if I pointed out that my things wouldn’t fit in your loft, and we had a little laugh about it and decided to look for a new place to move into together… living together would force you to see who I really am.  And you weren’t going to love that guy.”

Buck blinked back tears. “Y-you don’t know that.  I don’t know that.”

“I do, though.”  Tommy smiled thinly, his eyes wet.  “No one’s ever loved that guy.”

(eta: cont'd)

[beforeimdeceased]

I would love an ellie x reader x abby fic, something super smutty, but modern day. I don’t mind unique details, I will give your free reign on those I just want something powerbottom abby x masc top ellie.

click me!

um okay. so this is actually so unnecessarily long like why did i do that also it’s terrible please don’t beat me up okay :( it’s um definitely something guys if u hate it i’ll delete it I SWEAR I SWEAR

inexperienced!lesbian (me asf) reader x ellabs, reader orgasm, lowkey mean ellabs but ignore that, i didn’t even do the request properly everyone throw tomatoes at me :(

2k words!

nsfw!

‧₊˚ 🎐✩ 🫧 ₊˚⊹♡

The time on your phone flashed 11pm, and underneath it was a flash flood weather warning. You had been watching the news closely and carefully, but even they didn’t predict this.

“I thought they said it would clear up around 10.” Ellie joins you on the couch, a bag of fruit gummies in her hand. You nod, but don’t take your eyes off of your phone. “That’s what i thought too. I don’t know, maybe I can make it home before it gets too bad.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, Abby walks back into the living room. She rips a piece of paper towel off of the stand in the kitchen, drying her hands. “Or you could spend the night here and not end up swimming home.”

Ellie snort laughs but you bite your lip. “I don’t want to intrude. Suddenly having someone else in your private space for longer than planned? Sounds overstimulating.”

Abby joins the both of you in the living room, a bottle of water in hand. She plops herself down on the loveseat, manspreading and leaning back. You feel a knot twist in your stomach. “I don’t mind having you here for longer. Els?”

Ellie tosses a gummy in her mouth before responding. “You’re a pleasure to be around.”

Abby and Ellie wanted to ease your nerves a bit, and proposed a game of two truths and a lie. Fairly simple, you tell a person two truths and one lie about yourself and they have to guess the lie. A half hour had passed and you felt yourself loosening up around them. Laughing at how ridiculous they were being.

“No, i swear it’s the truth. I shook hands with him and everything.” Ellie holds her hands up innocently, insisting she didn’t lie.

Abby shakes her head, bringing a hand up to rub her temples. “Ellie, you did not meet a robot at the grocery store. That man was probably lying to you for fun, or some social experiment.”

You giggle, watching as Ellie put a gummy to her tongue to wet it, then throws it at Abby. “Youre a jerk.”

Suddenly, Abby has lifted herself from her seat and is tickling Ellie’s sides. All of you have burst into laughter, tears rolling down your cheeks at their dynamic.

After Abby’s satisfied with herself, she lets up on Ellie, joining you both on the couch. “Okay, your turn.” Abby looks over at you, placing one of Ellie’s gummies in her mouth.

You take a moment to think of something clever, biting your lip. “Hm.”

“Okay I got it!” You exclaim.

The girls grant you their undivided attention, anticipating your answers. “Okay, so. I’m bilingual. I’m allergic to certain coins and, i’ve never been kissed.”

The two look over at each other, confusion all over their faces. “Fuck.” Ellie leans back. “I’m gonna have to say you’re lying about the coins.”

Abby shakes her head, shooting Ellie a side eye. “Seriously? The last one is obviously a lie, I mean look at her.” You feel yourself growing shy at her statement. “You guys sure about your answers?” You smile, raising your eyebrows.

They both nod, creepily at the same time, and it makes you laugh before your reveal. “I’m not bilingual! English is the only language i speak fluently, but i have been taking some Swedish lessons.”

Ellie bobs her head. “Shit, that’s cool. So wait, what coins are you allergic to?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer before Abby chimes up. “Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” She stares at you, bewildered. “Seriously?”

You nod. “I’m pretty inexperienced. I ofcourse, don’t like men, and I came out pretty late so…” You trail.

You can actually see the devious gears turn in Ellie’s mind. She looks over at Abby and it’s as if they’re communicating with their minds. You wonder for a moment if people truly do have powers, because it seems they came to a very silent agreement just now.

“Abby’s a wonderful kisser.” Ellie blurts out, smiling at the blonde. “And a pretty damn good teacher.”

Maybe they didn’t agree on everything, because after that statement Abby shot Ellie a look that could kill. Ellie just laughed it off, lovingly tapping her shoulder.

“Oh.” You whisper nervously, unsure how to respond. Truthfully, you had been admiring the two of them ever since you’d met them. You were so eager to visit their apartment tonight, making sure to spray on your best perfume. Wearing a cute new outfit that was casual but not loungey. Planning it on a day where you knew the weather would be bad, all with the hope that you’d get to spend the night.

You were also nervous, and inexperienced in this department. What if you fucked it all up?

“I’m sorry if we’ve made you uncomfortable.” Abby chimes up, noticing your body language. You were fiddling with your hands, avoiding their gaze. “I’ll make Ellie sleep in the old doghouse outside if that’d make you feel better.”

You giggle as Ellie hits Abby’s shoulder. “Hey, not out in the rain. Maybe in the closet in the hallway.”

“Oh, you’re going back in the closet?” Abby laughs which causes Ellie to roll her eyes. You watch them stick their tongues out at each other and feel warmth in their friendship.

“You guys didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just didn’t know what to say.” You blurt. The two of them stop goofing and look over at you. Ellie’s got a smug face. “Do you want Abby to teach you how to kiss?”

Butterflies, a swarm of them, rush to your stomach. You try not to look her up and down but your eyes betray you. Soaking in Abby’s tall muscular figure. The way her legs are spread open and wide like she’s daring you to sit in between them. Her blue eyes burning holes into your skin. Anticipating your answer. You bite your lip. “Yes.”

Abby remains composed, but Ellie’s enjoying herself way too much. Moving to the loveseat so that you and Abby can have the couch to yourselves. She looks at both of you, then at you, then at Abby, then at you again. “Wait, do you want me to go-?“

“No.” You say, a little faster than you mean to. “I mean, you don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to.”

Abbys only focused on you now. Eyeing you up and down as you scoot closer to her. “Here, get comfortable. Straddle me.”

You know Ellie’s looking. You can feel her piercing eyes on your spine. Watching your every move, examining you from behind. “Straddle?” You ask, a bit unsure. You’d read the word in a couple books, but never looked up the definition. You realized that was damning you now. Fucking up this very moment.

“Sit on my lap, facing me.” Abby guides you. “Put your legs outside my legs.”

So this was the tummy turning move you’d seen in porn. It felt as good as you’d imagined it would. Your hands latch onto Abby’s shoulders, looking into her pretty blue eyes.

“You okay?” She asks, hands gripping onto your waist to steady you. Her fingers are brushing against the skin underneath the hem of your shirt and the contact is driving you crazy. You just nod, too afraid to open your mouth, knowing your words will spill out. You’re everything but composed right now.

“Okay. Just let me know if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She smiles.

You nod again, and establish an understanding. She moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in, and places a soft peck on your lips. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that exciting but it sent jolts and waves of pleasure through your body. Your first kiss. She pulls away and smiles at you. “How was that?”

“Great- good. Grood.” You stammer. She chuckles a bit and you feel hot with embarrassment. “I meant to say- Fuck i don’t even know.”

She rubs at your sides, licking her lips and looking at you with low eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? You ready for more?”

“Yeah.” you breathe, head growing fuzzy from her touch. Her fucking touch, fuck. Gentle, but firm. Guiding you so carefully. So kindly.

“Okay. Open your mouth a little bit.” She whispers inches away from your face. “Yeah, just like that.”

You feel like you’re about to melt, a moan stuck in your throat, swallowed by the blonde. Her lips meshing with yours, guiding the kiss. The hand on your hip gripping tighter. She thrusts a bit, attempting to pull you in closer, and you whine into her mouth. This causes her to dig her nails into your skin, scratching at the tender surface.

By now, you’d forgotten Ellie was still in the room. You’d forgotten where you were, actually. Completely lost in a state of bliss. Her tongue on yours, teeth nibbling at your lip, touch making you weak.

She pulls away for air, and you remain leaning forward. Missing her lips on yours.

“Someone’s eager.” She teases. You bite your lip, scratching your nails on her scalp. “Sorry.” you breathe in a low voice. She shakes her head, tutting and rubbing your cheek. “Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”

Abby calls Ellie over, and you can feel her dip into the couch next to you both. Her cheeks are a flushed red and her eyes look fixated on you.

“Where are you the most sensitive?” Abby asks, shooting a small smile to Ellie.

“Why don’t we let me find out? Is that okay?” Ellie asks. You nod, breath growing heavy. There’s no fucking way this is real, you’re dreaming. You have to be. These two are working together to get you worked up.

You can sense Ellie behind you before you feel her hand slide under your neck. Fingertips on your chin, leaning your head to the side. She places a kiss behind your ear and it makes you shudder. “Fuck.”

They both laugh. This evil, menacing, condescending laugh and it’s making your thighs clench on Abby’s legs. “Ellie, you’re teasing the poor thing. She can’t handle it.” Abby places her hands on your thighs, spreading them apart as they were before.

“She can handle anything we give her, right?” Ellie’s moving her lips further down now. Trailing hot wet kisses down your neck, hands sliding up to grab your breasts through your shirt. You throw your head back, a soft whine escaping your lips.

“She’s so sensitive because she’s never been touched. Bet we can make her come without ever having to take her clothes off.” Abby’s hands begin sliding up and down your inner thighs. You feel a wetness pool in your underwear. “You’re probably right Abs. She’s already so worked up and we’ve barely done anything.”

Are they…mocking you? They’re fucking mocking you.

Ellie hums against your neck, hands slipping down to your leg, making you straddle Abby’s thigh. Abby places her hands back on your waist, hiking up your leg and making you grind against her.

You whine, head falling back against Ellie’s shoulder, but she offers no comfort or sanctuary. Hands kneading your tits while she leaves wet kisses on your jaw. “She’s probably soaked right now.” Ellie breathes.

Abby nods, admiring the way you give into their touch. So willing to be their fucktoy. She looks down at your crotch and hums. “She’s got a wet spot on her pants.”

“Such a shame. They look brand new. Now you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but you’re close now. The way your slick has covered your panties and is spreading all over your clit, Abby’s hands on your waist grinding you against her, Ellie’s mouth on you. Her hands on you. The way they’re talking about you like you’re not even there.

“I’m gonna-“ Can barely leave you lips before your climax hits you. You shake, dig your nails into Abby’s shoulder. Cry out an “Oh god, fuck!” and roll your eyes back as they help you ride your high.

Your body goes limp while you try to catch your breath. Everything is sensitive and you feel like you’d just seen stars.

“You did so good, baby.” Abby leans in to kiss you, and then Ellie behind you. “Ready for round two?”

Round what?

[foxtrot91]

Dedicated Ally

Buck pants as Tommy rolls off of him, flopping down next to him with his own, equally heavy breaths.

“Fuck,” Buck grunts, grinning as he reaches over to Tommy, smoothing his hand over a muscular chest.

“Mmhm.” Tommy turns onto his side towards him, nose scrunching as a smile stretches across his face. Buck loves that smile, noticed it the day they met, thinks that smile might be the reason he went fucking insane trying to get this man’s attention.

Unable to resist, Buck leans in for a kiss. It’s chaste, considering the mind blowing sex they’ve just had. But sometimes those are his favourite, Buck thinks; a simple, easy meeting of lips, a kiss just to kiss, no expectations for more, just a way to stay close even after being as close as two people can possibly be.

Buck whines in protest when Tommy pulls away, hearing a huff of amusement in response before he’s being tugged into the other man’s arms. He’s pulled and arranged until his head is resting on Tommy’s strong chest and okay, Buck thinks, if they’re not kissing then this is the next best thing.

It’s not long before he’s drifting, not asleep but also not-not asleep. Just hovering in that quiet, pleasant space in-between. He’s warm, happy, satisfied, and Buck has the vague, faraway thought that he could lay here forever.

At least until Tommy’s chest starts shaking with barely suppressed laughter, which—

What the fuck?

Lifting his head, Buck gives Tommy a quizzical look, not sure what exactly is so funny.

“Sor-sorry,” Tommy coughs, waving a hand as laughter bubbles up to the surface now.

Buck runs through the last couple hours or so in his head, trying to figure out what’s so funny.

They’d had dinner, nothing new there. Buck had put on that new nature documentary that he’d been wanting to watch except that Tommy had been way too distracting and they’d ended up making out like teenagers instead.

That had been followed up with some truly spectacular foreplay — and Buck really needs to find out how Tommy does that thing with his tongue like yesterday, it was inspired, truly, before Tommy fucked Buck into the mattress like his goddamn life depended on it.

So, all in all, a really solid night. Nothing that should have Tommy bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“What is it?” He asks finally, giving up trying to figure it out on his own.

It’s a moment before Tommy answers, has to visibly force himself to stop laughing. Seeing the look on Buck’s face must help because he sobers pretty quickly before pulling Buck in for a light kiss and settled them both on their sides, facing each other.

“It’s nothing bad,” he starts, rubbing up and down Buck’s arms. “I was just thinking… remembering, really.”

He’s smirking now, a mischievous look in his eye. Buck’s about to ask what it is he was remembering but just as he opens his mouth, Tommy continues.

“You know, Evan, I never did thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“Yeah, for being such a good, dedicated, passionate ally.”

Buck groans as he suddenly remembers their first date, a little over six months ago now. He goes to lean back as he covers his face but Tommy pulls him back, chest shaking with mirth.

“Really, ten out of ten, no complaints. A must have for every gay man out there.”

“Fuck off,” Buck grumps, but doesn’t resist when Tommy suckers him in for another kiss. They’re both smiling too wide — Tommy, from laughter, Buck from embarrassment, so it’s not much more than a light press of lips.

“Would’ve bagged me an ally sooner if I’d known how dedicated they’d be in their… allyship,” Tommy murmurs, pressing another kiss to his brow, right over his birthmark.

Pressing Tommy back into the mattress, Buck hides his face in the crook of the other man’s neck, face warm as he shakes his head.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Tommy says, stroking his hair. “As terrible as that date was, you were adorable even in your obliviousness.”

Buck smiles, warmth blossoming in his chest. He’s not sure why, but every time Tommy tells him he’s adorable it’s like his heart feels too big for his chest, like it doesn’t know how to handle all of this love and affection it’s being fed and is set to burst.

“You know, it wasn’t easy walking away that night,” Tommy says, pressing his soft lips to the top of his head. “But you didn’t seem ready. And maybe a bit selfishly, I knew that if I was going to have you that I wanted all of you, not just bits and pieces doled out in the dark where no one could see.”

They haven’t actually talked about that first date like this before, not really. They’ve acknowledged it, certainly, but they’ve never deconstructed it in any depth like they are now.

“I’m glad you walked away that night,” Buck says honestly. “I was an ass— no, I was, and you walking away helped me realize what I wanted in a way that I hadn’t really been willing to before.”

Tommy hums, fingers trailing along the back of his neck, tracing random patterns.

“You certainly came to terms with it a lot quicker than I expected. A lot quicker than I did,” Tommy comments, referring to what Chim often refers to as his sexuality crisis speedrun after hearing the full story of how they got together.

“I had a really great incentive,” Buck says, grinning up at Tommy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ETA: Now on AO3 with some additions:

AO3

[literaila]

are you stupid?

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured and satoru isn't cool with it

warnings: literal hurt/comfort, descriptions of a wound bad enough to warrant stitches, little angst, fluff, slightly ooc satoru

last part | next part

*

year six.

“are you stupid?” 

your hands are frozen to the touch, barely able to grasp the doorknob when his voice comes from nowhere at all. 

you almost don't notice it when satoru opens the door. you have to blink to focus on him, but by the time you do, you're already falling against the empty space in front of you. 

satoru is quick to catch your arm, righting you before you break your nose on the hardwood.

“that’s my line,” you tell him, slightly coughing--it sends shocks down your spine and you shiver. you shake his hand off of you, trying to walk forward, but there's a wall of a man standing there. you blink at him. "hey, satoru. would you mind moving?” 

“i could smell the blood from down the block,” he says, his voice rougher than usual, completely still. “what did you do?” 

you roll your eyes, waving a hand (even though it makes you a bit woozy). “there’s no way you could smell that. it’s not even that bad.” 

“it’s dripping down your shirt.” 

you pout, looking down. "i just washed this, too.” 

it is a lot of blood, you realize suddenly. you would definitely get some looks if you were walking down the street in public. 

still, you don't feel all that banged up. it's not really your fault that you were slightly distracted when that curse snuck up on you... or at least, you're pretty sure it's not. 

satoru, shaking his head--maybe finally realizing that you're fine--moves out of the way, holding the door open for you. "what did you do?"

you step through, using the wall to keep you steady. “how do you know i did anything?” 

you finally look at satoru, even though he's fading from your eyeline, in and out of focus. he's not wearing his blindfold or his glasses, and he's got a frown that rivals one of megumi's at the moment. 

it makes you laugh, just a little, as you try to shake the shoes from your feet. 

he was probably sleeping, you think. usually, you'd probably feel... at least slightly bad. but right now? you don't even care. 

you're just happy to see him, right in front of you like your own personal greeting card. you've only been gone a day, but satoru feels much further away than that. 

especially with his frown and his furrowed eyebrows. he's in a mood, you remember, frowning. 

“why are you bleeding, y/n?” 

you cough again, tapping his chest as you move past him. “jeez, lighten up, satoru. i’m good,” you say this as you limp down the hallway, wincing with every step. 

you don't get to watch satoru's eye roll, but it takes less than a second for an arm to wrap under your shoulders, satoru forcing your weight onto him, and he practically carries you through the house until you reach the kitchen, where he sets you on the countertop. 

he's looking at you like you're a fragile baby bird. 

and he doesn't bother to ask--of course he doesn't--before he lifts your shirt from your abdomen, it slightly sticking (due to the blood) before it rolls up. 

satoru's eyes widen as he inspects you. "woah," he whispers, paling just a little bit. 

you don't look down with him--because that's a terrible idea--but you watch satoru. 

you can barely feel it, actually. it's basically just a minor cut, nothing too--

you try not to gasp when satoru presses a finger near your ribs, not directly touching the wound, but far too close to it. it would be embarrassing to double over in pain, wouldn't it?

“is it bad?” you wonder, breathlessly, feeling a bit light-headed. 

satoru’s head snaps up, “you didn’t look?” 

“i was a bit distracted. the curse wasn't gracious enough to give me the chance to grab a couple of bandaids, the bastard."

“how did you even manage to do this?” 

your eyes trail down unconsciously, but all you can see is your bunched-up shirt--drenched in blood. yeah, you'll probably have to burn it. 

satoru is looking up and down, his face entirely disgusted, nose scrunched up and eyes avoiding your own. 

it makes you laugh a little--because you're very familiar with satoru and his opposition to anything humanly--which then makes you wince with him. 

it doesn't hurt that bad, really. 

“can you get the first aid kit?” you ask him, pushing his hands away from you and your cut. but as soon as satoru isn't right there to lean on, you begin to tilt forward. 

satoru immediately resumes his position as your pillar. “are you kidding? i’m calling shoko.” 

“i know how to do stitches, satoru. it’s late.” 

“you need, like, a stomach replacement for that.” 

you roll your eyes, leaning even further into him. at least when you're pressed up against his chest, you don't have to breathe. “you’re so dramatic.” 

satoru is still frowning. “doesn’t that hurt?” 

“nope,” you lie, sitting up and pushing his hands away again. “i’m running on adrenaline. it’s not that deep, anyway.” 

he gives you a hard look. 

you sigh. “what’s wrong with you? you can drop the act.” 

“what act?” 

“the ‘i’m the caretaker’ act.” 

“what if i came home with a hole in my stomach?" satoru's jaw is clenched. "what would you do?” 

“i can't think about hypotheticals right now, satoru,” you whine. “please get the first aid kit?” 

“should i get megumi too? might as well teach him how to stitch you up, he's getting to that age, you know.” 

“funny,” you say, dryly. “do you want me to bleed out on our counter, or…?” 

satoru sighs, but he walks out of the kitchen a moment later. hopefully to save you from dying. 

you exhale, feeling your chest tighten. you can't feel much, for the most part. but then there's that feeling every couple of seconds, a memory of the whole thing playing out-- except your head is fuzzy, and everything looks sort of… colorful right now. 

you can’t even remember how you got here. or the last time a curse managed to actually injure you. 

it feels a bit juvenile, really. 

especially because you’re in no position to be taking care of yourself—but in no world would you wake up shoko in the middle of the night for this. in no world would you wake up anyone, except for satoru, to deal with you, with your blood and your stubbornness. 

god, you hate pain. you hate having to wash blood out of your clothes, and you hate sitting here by yourself. 

you slump down. only seconds have gone by, but it feels like so much more than that. the wound burns, you think, in an unnatural way. 

you probably got poisoned and you're probably going to die and satoru is going to stomp on your grave, and--

“do we even have enough gauze to cover that up?” satoru is asking you when he walks back in. he's wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, you realize, watching him. 

his eyes are stern, focused, and the rest of him is morose. you should be able to gaze at him, to stare--but you can't because your vision has spots in it, and everything about satoru is too hard right now. 

he’s been like this for days. casual but stuck—like he can’t find it in him to laugh about anything. his face has been a field of lines, with no breaks in between, and his eyes have been greyer than they should be, a sort of dim color that you hate. 

satoru's eyes are wild, usually. they are blue fires and the vast expanse of the universe. 

but not right now, when he's looking at you like this. and not this week--because he's barely been looking at you at all. 

and it's unfortunate not just because you miss him, but because you're not as good at casting it all away as he is. you can't shove things aside and make light out of the darkest situations. 

you can't fill his role, and yet you keep trying to. 

it's an inevitable cycle of failing and never being enough. 

“i’ll just cut up your shirt if there’s not enough,” you tell him, putting on a smile so he can’t tell how badly you want to start crying.

is this real pain, you wonder, or a dream? 

“use your own shirts.”

you pout. “but yours are the best quality.” 

satoru rolls his eyes, again, and begins to wipe off all of the well-used tools you have. a needle you've had for years, stolen from jujutsu high, and thread you can't remember taking. 

“what are you doing?” you try to grab the instruments from his hands, clumsily, almost cutting yourself again in the process. 

satoru is quick to hold them away, keeping them up and out of your reach. not that you were going to try very hard anyway. 

“i’m going to stitch you up," he says, like he's scolding you. 

“you don’t know how.” 

“please,” satoru scoffs, shaking his head. he gets a cloth wet under the facet, and then holds it towards you. “i probably learned how to do this before you were even born."

“when you were nine months old?” 

“clean it.” 

you listen, holding the cloth to your wound and still not looking down. it feels sort of ticklish, and also like you're being tortured. 

“you don’t have to,” you tell satoru after a moment, breathing through the nausea that comes with the pain. “i know you’re squeamish around blood.” 

“i am not squeamish.” 

you grin at him. “sure.” 

satoru looks up, and finally, his face relaxes, just a little bit. you can even see the workings of a smile on his mouth—the first you’ve gotten in days. 

he shakes his head. “i’ll be fine. sit up.” 

“seriously,” you say, again, catching his hand just as he’s about to touch you. “i can do it.” 

“seriously, i’m not letting you. your hands are shaking.” 

you look down, releasing his wrist. “oh.” 

“yeah, oh.” 

satoru kneels so he can see your cut properly, his face narrowed in concentration. you focus on him as he touches the tender skin by the wound, featherlight fingertips trailing across your skin.

you shiver and apologize under your breath. 

he hasn't been this close in days. 

“does it hurt now?” he asks you, voice so quiet that it almost echoes through the house. 

“not really,” but you look up towards the ceiling. somehow you know it’s going to be worse if you watch. 

“i can call—“ 

“no, satoru. i already told you, if you don’t want to do it then i—“ 

“okay, i’m doing it. i’m doing it.” 

you close your eyes when he punctures your skin, waiting for the feeling to subside. it's just a prick, but you still have to think about getting the mail, going to the store, taking a shower after this, or maybe just crawling out from your own skin and becoming a spirit.

but satoru seems to recognize this, maybe from your face, and he asks, “what kind of curse was it?” 

“dunno?” you breathe out, mapping a picture on the ceiling in your mind. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i can't remember.” 

satoru looks up. “what?”

“it’s all a blur,” you say, wanting to shove his hands off of you. you've been trained to kick people away, so it's really not your fault. “i think i won though.” 

“i don’t think this is winning.” 

“keep going,” you tell him, instead of arguing. “i’m fine.” 

satoru tsks but does as you say, resuming the smooth movements of suturing. any normal day, you'd probably want to watch his hands work, want to inspect his job and make fun of him for the way he holds his breath while looking at an open wound.

“how were the kids?” you ask him, after a moment. 

satoru breathes out, nodding. his hair is messy, his face slightly wrinkled from sleeping still. “they missed you.” 

“it was only a day. did megumi get that book report back yet? he was worried about it before i left, but i told him—“ 

“i missed you.” 

you look down, forgetting about pain or blood. “what?” 

“i miss you,” he says, this time, like it’s any different. satoru keeps his eyes down, his hands moving. but there's a guilty look on his face--something that tells you he didn't mean to say anything. 

“satoru…” 

“are you still mad at me?” 

you tilt your head. “mad? why would i be mad at you?” 

“you haven’t been coming to bed,” satoru answers, obviously.

your eyes widen. “satoru—“ and there’s a sharp pain in your side. 

“sorry,” he murmurs, softly, at your flinch. 

“i’m not mad at you,” you tell him, trying not to double over. your voice is high-pitched and breathy. you feel like a child—ridiculous and foolish—but it doesn’t stop you from speaking. “i was never mad at you.” 

“you weren't?” 

“you asked me for space. i was just giving it to you.” 

satoru pauses, looking up at you. 

“i… i didn’t want to push you into talking to me. i thought—i don’t know, that maybe things had changed. i mean, we don’t have to…” you wince, and it’s not because of the pain this time. “to sleep together. or in the same room. if you don’t want that anymore—“ 

“no." 

"no what?" 

he shakes his head. "i want that."

“satoru, you’re not going to hurt my feelings—“ 

“i was wrong," he cuts in, voice rough. you don't think you've ever heard him say those words before. "i don’t want space, i never did.” 

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “then why did you…” 

“i—“ he stops. looks around. “does it hurt?” 

and you know, just as you know most things about satoru, that he can't continue. that the truth is going to cut just a little bit too deep--deeper than your injury--and he can't bring himself to say it. 

so you only take another deep breath, pushing away the feeling of your skin being patched back together, and nod. 

“a little,” you say softly. 

an unspoken understanding passes between the two of you, and breathing gets a little bit easier all of a sudden. 

maybe it wasn't the pain. maybe it was just the tension, the build-up of days apart. 

it makes sense, even to your slightly fogged-over mind. 

and then the two of you sit there while satoru patches you up, sharing a glance every couple of seconds—a glance with so many words, so tender and feeling that it succeeds in making you even dizzier. blood loss has nothing on the way satoru makes you feel. 

you can't see his hands--don't dare to--but you can feel the softness of them, the care he's taking in stitching you up. 

if it were any day, you would laugh at him for it. but right now, you just accept it. bask in it. 

“how’s that feel?” satoru whispers to you, after he’s tied it off and wiped the blood from your skin. 

you don't bother to look down. really, you don't want to see the freshly sutured line on your abdomen, but also, you just want to keep looking at him. 

it's much more gratifying, at least.

“good," you say, voice stronger, easier. "is it going to scar?” 

satoru scoffs. “if you wanted untouched skin then we should’ve called shoko—“ 

“shut up,” you interrupt. “i’m not listening to the medical advice of someone who’s never gotten a scratch in his life.” 

“i let you scratch me.” 

“well, obviously, i’m the exception,” you smile at him, exhausted and sweaty and still a little out of it—but home. with him. 

and this time satoru actually smiles back. 

it’s a bizarre thing, his smile. the first one you’ve gotten in days and it wakes you up immediately. almost like realizing you’ve been in the dark for weeks, just getting a glimpse of the light. 

he's a peek into something more--unearthly. if the closest thing you get to divinity is satoru, then you won't complain.

“you okay?” you ask him, but you’re only teasing. 

“that’s my line,” he says. 

“you sure?” 

satoru leans towards you, forehead against yours. “i’m sure.” 

you sit there for a moment. satoru is usually the one clinging to you, but tonight you feel like if he moves away you might never get him back. 

so you sit there, make sure to hold him to you, secure with your hands wrapped around his biceps, his arms grazing against yours as he leans against the counter. 

you're probably a mess right now--your skin stained with blood that shouldn't be outside your body, your face covered in dirt, your hair and clothes drenched in sweat and rain. but satoru doesn't seem to mind, so you don't think about it too hard. 

he deserves it, at least, for making ridiculous assumptions. you have to get him back somehow, after all. 

after a minute, or two, or maybe even three, you clear your throat. “great. i’m alive, you’re… less annoying than usual. let’s go to bed.” 

“‘less?’” satoru gapes at you, but his laughter is unmistakable. 

“yeah, i know," you say, feigning shock, "i was surprised too.” 

he flicks your forehead but you’re still smiling at him. 

“okay,” satoru whispers, leaning back. “bedtime.” 

you rub at the spot around your wound one more time, already feeling the days of sore skin and itchy muscles, and then you push satoru so you can hop off of the counter. 

“hey,” he says, suddenly, stopping you. his voice is quick, almost lost. but his hands wrap around your wrists, keeping them between the two of you so you can't escape. and satoru's eyes are on your face, flickering between the different points of your skin, looking like he's just realized that he's lost something.

you raise a brow, but don't push back against his chest or try to pry his hands away. “what?” 

satoru swallows, still watching you. 

his eyelashes are long enough to touch his skin, and his eyes are blue enough to take up the whole world. you want to grin at the saturation of him--so much brighter than you've seen him in days--but you refrain. you don't want to scare him away. 

but you're not so eager to move. it's easy to wait on satoru, really--to wait for his words, to let him collect his thoughts--because you've only spent nine years studying his face. you've only admired the slope of his nose and the tilt of his chin since you were sixteen, and there's much more to be discovered. 

so staring at him is simple. especially when there's so much to look at. 

you have plenty of unmarked territory you need to take over. 

you keep a slight smile on your face while you wait, and eventually, satoru groans, hanging his head back. 

“what?” you repeat, laughing just a little. 

“can you stop looking at me like that?” 

“like what?” you nudge your head against his chin, and satoru glares at you. 

“i’m trying to be serious.” 

“oh, okay,” you try to push away your smile, but you can't. it's glued where it is. “i’m serious.” 

“you’re not.” 

“what is it, satoru? i’m listening.” 

his eyes meet yours, again, and you almost flinch. 

everything about satoru is forceful, except for the way he looks at you. the way his eyes relax, his entire face falling when you're both eye to eye. it's a look you've only observed on one person, in only one particular moment. 

and, you think, all of a sudden, it might be your favorite look. 

but you're still fed up with waiting. you're tired of his consideration, his contemplative eyes. you want satoru back--with his ridiculous laughter and stupid jokes. you want him irritating the sanity out of you and simultaneously bringing you to life. 

you don't tell him that though, because in this moment you'll take what you can get. 

any version of satoru is better than none at all. you’ve learned that the hard way. 

“hey,” he says, one more time. his smile is unusual, a frightened little thing. “i love you.” 

you freeze. 

your face falls flat, thinking of the words in a million different ways. you might've misheard him--but you're so locked in on him that it seems impossible. 

at once, you consider exactly what he means, so many different variations of the same thing. 

does he love you like your parents did, always too much but never enough?

does he love you like you love megumi and tsumiki—like your life depends on it? like you’d be wrecked without them? 

or does satoru love you like you love him? does he love you like it’s breathing? like there’s never been a choice in the matter? 

but, it's simple. a beat passes, three seconds of contemplation--just enough for the words to ring true throughout your body. 

the way he’s looking at you is enough to answer any question you have. 

satoru loves you like a promise, and nothing less. 

“you idiot,” you say, a sudden, day-breaking smile on your face. “don’t you think i know that?"

*

"should we wake them up?" tsumiki asks, walking up behind megumi, staring down at you both. she's rubbing her eyes, her hair slightly messy.

megumi considers it for a moment.

neither of them have woken up like this in a while. you and gojo are getting better at falling asleep in bed instead of on the couch.

but, at this point, megumi thinks that it's probably a habit. or just to annoy him.

gojo's face is shoved into your chest and your hands are tangled in his hair. the both of you have silly smiles on your faces, and seriously. how do you both manage to fall asleep in such uncomfortable positions.

"no," megumi whispers, yawning. "i can make breakfast. mom probably got home pretty late."

"okay," tsumiki says, still staring.

megumi rolls his eyes and walks away. honestly, what did he do to deserve getting two idiots for parents?

*

next part | series masterlist

[kikiiswashere]

Four to Tango

As promised, part two of Waltzing for Three!!!

Thank you for helping me reach 200 followers for this little ol' blog of mine 🥰 And welcome to all the newcomers!

The idea for this ficlet was born of watching my bestie @sand-sea-and-fable help out a pregnant friend by lifting her belly off her hips, and it just sort of spiraled from there.

It's also worth noting that I myself am not a mother, nor have I given birth, nor do I wish to be a mom (husband got the ol' snip-snip). So why this fic? Good question 😅

That being said, I did my best to write about the labor process relatively accurately without getting into the super nitty-gritty of it 😂 So, please enjoy this weird little fever-dream of a fic, and please comment and reblog 💗

Tags for the interested parties: @luhmoon, @legendaryflowercheesecake, @thebeserkvernid, @miffysoo

Pairing: Established Silco x AFAB!Reader

Rating: Teen/Mature (brief reference to oral sex)

CW: Non-graphic descriptions of pregnancy and labor

Insistent cramping had woken you up in the wee-hours one morning, swelling and ebbing in a slow rhythm that sent your heart tapping, a loop of nerves coiling around your gut – little room that there was for it.

Silco had been a terribly light sleeper ever since Vander’s betrayal, ever since those early years on an under-tested Shimmer variant that left his brain unable to fully settle. So, the moment you shifted into a sitting position, he shot up as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Words got gummed up on fear and excitement in your mouth. There was a slight tremor in your fingers as they grazed over your belly. You had noticed it sitting even lower on your hips these past several days. While you were very done with being pregnant, you were still nervous and surprised to say –

“I think it’s time.”

With comical amounts of speed, but awe-inspiring grace, Silco flung himself from the bed, divesting himself of his eyepatch and pajamas. After changing into a simple set of trousers and an old button-up shirt, he fetched the stopwatch Jinx had invented to easily time your contractions, and wrote a tube prompting your midwife that she was needed. It had been decided early on that the babe’s delivery – barring any complications – would happen at The Last Drop. You, nor Silco, were willing to venture outside to a clinic when your family would be at its most vulnerable.

Too nervous to lay down, much less fall back asleep, you began pacing the large bedroom in your large sleep shirt. Every time a contraction locked up and spasmed through your lower belly and back, your fingers pressed the stopwatch’s clicker. And you breathed as the midwife had instructed. Silco kept you company, walking with you up and down the length of the bedroom, holding your hand and becoming an anchor to squeeze when contractions rolled through. Together, you both noted and kept track of their intervals. Their spacing  and length suggested that the little one’s arrival was not imminent, but the consistency indicated that this was indeed labor.

The midwife arrived, ushered in by a half-asleep Sevika. You’d bribed her with an absurd bonus and several pre-paid sessions at Babette’s for her to crash in one of the Drop’s private guest rooms during these last days of your pregnancy. She was needed for security, and to stand-in for Silco when his attention and priorities would be elsewhere.

“Good luck,” she’d grumbled, barely glancing at you before shutting the bedroom door, and trudging back down the hall.

The midwife was a petite, wizened Vastaya who’d been selected for her services not only because of her field prowess, but because she was staunch loyalist to you and Silco. Shimmer had helped save more than one of her clients when the birthing process had begun to go sideways, and that was enough for her to hitch her wagon to your agenda.

She was also direct to the point of rudeness – a personality trait that was wholly welcome given the slippery, hidden, self-serving rhetoric you were used to having to deal with.

“Time?” she asked, setting her medical bag down on your dresser with a heavy thunk.

“Forty-five seconds to a minute, about every seven minutes,” you answered. Then gasped and doubled over as another contraction bent you.

The midwife hummed. “How long?”

“About an hour,” Silco said. He squeezed back at your hand as you rode out the current wave rolling through.

Clucking her tongue, the midwife shook her head, long ears slapping lightly against her horns.

“Early.”

Silco frowned. “You are being more than thoroughly compensated to show up whenever we ask.”

“Indeed. To the bed, miss. Let’s have a look.”

Once your legs were freed from the lock of the contraction, you shuffled to the bed. Silco helped you into position, and the midwife closed in. Her fingers were warm, but the tools were cold. The combination, along with your nerves, caused your lungs to shudder.

“Five,” she declared, drawing her head from between your thighs.

“That’s halfway,” you chuckled weakly. Silco brushed his thumb over your knuckles

The midwife hummed in agreement. “True. But as discussed, this process is not linear. And being your first delivery, it is very likely this will take a while. How is the pain?”

“Fine. Manageable.” It came out as a grit, but she didn’t seem to doubt you.

“You should eat and drink while you can. Is there anything else you want or need right now?”

Together, you and Silco walked to the small kitchen in your private quarters. You rested your forearms on the counter as the length of your spine hammocked behind you, hips gently swishing side-to-side. Silco kept the breakfast blissfully simple: toast with a light slather of butter, and a mug of warmed water with lemon.

Eating was slow going. Between the jitters and contractions, your appetite was seriously curbed. When you finally made it to the second piece of toast, Jinx shuffled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-headed. Her bedraggled demeanor did not last long though, as her whip-quick senses tuned into the energy of the space. Big, blue eyes tracked between Silco – unusually underdressed – and your strange posture. One could nearly hear the cogs in her head clicking and whirring.

“Is it time?!”

In a flash, she clambered onto the stool next to you, bright and tittering. Her exuberance washed over you in a relieving breeze. Reaching over, you ran a hand through her unkempt hair.

“Sure is, kiddo.”

“When will he be here?”

“Could be a while yet, Jinx,” Silco answered. He set a glass of juice in front of her. “What would you like? Toad-in-the-hole? Porridge? Pancakes?”

“Make ‘em have a face!” she crowed.

A hook of a smile pulled at Silco’s mouth as he turned back toward the stove.

Jinx settled onto the stool; legs kicking merrily beneath her as she sipped her juice.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like intense menstrual cramps.”

Her small face squished in a ponder. While you had had that conversation with her, Jinx had yet to broach into that aspect of puberty. Thus, she had no point of reference.

“Kinda like when you roof-run after eating, and your abs cramp up,” you offered. “Kind of.”

A contraction swelled upon you, and you grit your teeth, face pinching, head dropping. Silco stepped away from the stovetop, and placed a grounding hand between your shoulder blades. Jinx watched, eyes wide and worried. Timidly, she shifted toward you, pressing her forehead to your shoulder.

The pain continued, but was temporarily numbed by the overwhelming love and gratitude for the two people on either side of you.

Your family.

It was never part of the plan when it came to your Silco’s ideas to lift Zaun up, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. And in a few hours, three would be four. Your heart beat big, tapping against your throat as the contraction passed. You clicked the stopwatch.

“That seems worse than roof-run cramps,” Jinx said suspiciously.

You chuffed. “Like I said: Kind of.”

Silco rubbed his hand up and down your spine a few times, before kissing your temple and returning to the stove.

“You remember what we talked about?” you asked Jinx.

She fiddled with her hair, nodding. “I can come and go as I please.”

“Right. If you want to be with us, I want you to be there. If you don’t, that’s fine, too. You get to decide, and it doesn’t have to be right now.”

Jinx nodded again, eyes staring into the middle-distance. Reaching over, you brushed your fingers through her hair again. Her eyes snapped back to yours.

“Are you scared?”

You gave her a reassuring smile.

“No. I’m happy.”

It wasn’t a lie. But a few hours later, your happiness was thoroughly overshadowed by the pain of labor. It was staggering how it had intensified. How it was becoming near non-stop as the space between contractions shortened and shortened. Gravity felt impossible to contend with on top of everything else, so you sank onto your bedroom floor with a low, guttural growl.

Silco had been attentive throughout, anticipating your needs before you even voiced them. Ever your anchor, your source for steadiness. Even now, on your hands and knees, his own wide palms settled onto your hips and pressed in. It pulled an appreciative groan from your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my love.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Your eyes flicked to the bathroom door where Jinx was helping the midwife prepare a warm bath. You were proud of your girl. Admittedly, part of you doubted she would choose to stick around once labor became loud and more intense. When you could no longer keep yourself from crying out, hesitancy had flickered in her eyes, and her brows pitched in concern. But instead of dashing away, she’d reached for your hand and held tight.

“Is there anything you can give her?” she’d asked the midwife incredulously.

The female had smirked, impressed and moved by the girl’s protectiveness of you.

“I have mild pain relievers, but nothing that will fully numb – “

“Shimmer?”

The midwife’s black lips thinned. “That is only to be used in emergencies,” she explained. “It is too potent and powerful to be used for anything other than the most extreme circumstances. Which – “her eyes looked up at your haggard form on the bed – “does not seem probable. Her labor is progressing as it should. There is nothing to worry about.”

Jinx frowned, doubtful, and hunkered closer to your side.

“Seems like a dumb design that it hurts so much.”

“Agreed,” you wheezed.

“Come,” the midwife said, “let’s check you.”

She declared you’d progressed to eight centimeters. That had been three hours ago. And the pain just continued to climb and build.

A small sob burst through your teeth. Silco knelt at your side, quietly saying your name.

“I’m scared, Sil,” you admitted in a whisper. You were thankful Jinx wasn’t near to hear you back-pedal. Your breath hitched and words tumbled out: “I don’t know if I can do this.”

He took your warm and tear-streaked face between his hands, and repeated your name.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly, your tired and wet eyes focused on his face. He looked at you with fierce earnestness, thumbs sweeping across the apples of your flushed cheeks. Suddenly, part of you grieved that the baby would never know Silco without his scars. Or yours. Outside and in.

Silco called your name again.

“Look at me,” he repeated. Your eyes slid back to his. Blue and red pinned you in place. “You can do this. I’ve not met anyone more tenacious, nor strong, nor as spirited as you. Those are but a few of the reasons I fell in love with you so long ago.” His eyes softened now; his adoration made plain. “You’ve absolutely no reason to doubt yourself.”

A small hiccup bubbled from your mouth, and you pressed your face into the warmth of his palm, breathing him in deeply. Not having properly dressed for the day, he hadn’t put any cologne on. The natural terra-sweet scent of his skin filled your nose. You were grateful for his support, respect, and belief in your abilities. A sudden, silly thought flitted across your mind.

“Not my dance moves?”

A single amused breath huffed from his throat. That infinitesimal smirk – one of the reasons you’d fallen in love with him – appeared on his lips. His blue eye flashed; as it often did when an idea struck him. Silco lifted to his feet, and used a strong grip to pull you to yours. He guided your arms to loop around his shoulders and neck, while his went to your low back. A weary chuckle left you as you understood. Your cheek was a relieved, heavy weight against his shoulder. It had to be a strange sight, this dance configuration: with your body slouched against his, massive belly hanging between you two. Slowly, your feet began gently shifting side-to-side.

“Admittedly,” he murmured against your crown, “your dance moves leave something to be desired right now.”

You laughed, even as another contraction swelled within you. Silco’s hands firmed up on your body, holding you upright as it moved through your body.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you hissed as most of the pain subsided. It was such now that there was no longer any real relief.

“A dance and a suck job? Lucky me.”

Your fingers pinched Silco’s upper back, and you felt the tremor of silent laughter in his shoulders.

“Tub’s ready!” Jinx sang as she flounced out of the bathroom.

Managing to smile at her, despite another great, contracting swell that threatened to bring you to your knees, you took her hand. Silco kept a strong arm wrapped around your middle, and you followed Jinx into the humid warmth of the bathroom.

The water helped. Its heat soothed your pained muscles and aching bones. The irony was not lost on you that you found peace in it. After a few minutes of settling into the tub, you gave Silco a look that to anyone else may have seemed like nothing. But he caught the message in your eyes, and tucked himself close to the tub’s edge, taking your hand. Jinx huddled herself into his lap, nervously fingering the buttons on his shirt.

About an hour later, the midwife’s large ears flicked in your direction as the quality of your breath shifted, as the sounds leaving you turned deeper and more animal. Her deft hands slipped into the water and between your legs.

“Something changed,” you gasped, hunching slightly. “It feels like – “

“It’s time,” she said, pulling her hands from the water. Somehow, she’d also stripped your underwear off in the same movement without you noticing. “It’s time to push.”

Push. The word settled into your body with a deep, innate knowing.

Yes. That’s what you were feeling. The near uncontrollable need to bare down. An old, predetermined instinct washed over you. You could do this.

But you did not want to do it alone.

“Sil.”

The grit of his name and the way you shifted yourself forward spurred your partner into understanding. Swiftly, he stood, deposited Jinx onto the stool he’d vacated, and then stepped into the tub, sliding in behind you. Settling against his chest, your hand ferociously intertwined with his. His heart beat firmly against your back.

“You can do this,” he whispered into your ear.

“Give me your other hand, dear,” the midwife said. You did so and she guided it under the water, preparing you to feel and catch. “Push.”

“Push! Push!” Jinx cried, her little fists pumping and bopping in the air madly.

Gritting your teeth, you did just that. A sound you didn’t know you were capable of making burst from your lungs. When the air ran out, you slumped against Silco’s chest.

“Breath in,” the midwife demanded. You did so. “Push!”

You did again, a roar ripping from your chest. A roar that ended in a surprised yip as something into your hand.

“Again,” the midwife demanded.

And you complied, baring down with everything you had. With all the might and tenacity and power your body could exert. Another battle cry echoed off the bathroom tiles, and a solid weight slid into your hand. You ripped your other hand from Silco’s grip, and pulled a wriggling newborn from the water.

“It’s a boy!” Jinx yelled, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Her brother’s face squidged, and his pink mouth opened in an announcing wail. You joined in and pulled the babe to your chest. Silco went very still behind you, scarcely breathing. Then his hands appeared over yours, cradling the baby at your chest. Like on the night you’d taken in Jinx, he pulled his legs up around you both and held tight.

Later, once the placenta had passed (something Jinx was equally horrified and enthralled by) you were helped out of the tub, and cleaned. The midwife tied off the babe’s umbilical cord, and once some time passed, you watched with an incredibly full heart as Silco severed it.

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen the expression on your partner’s face. A soft, careful, wonderous thing. Then it hit you all at once. You were watching Silco fall in love. The notion took your breath away and fresh tears welled in your eyes. Jinx clung to you, and you to her.

“Thank you for being with me, Jinx. It helped.”

The girl beamed up at you, holding on tighter.

“I think it is your turn for a shower, sir,” the midwife said, twisting off the umbilical nub.

Silco watched her hands like a hawk as she did. He slid in once she finished, and wrapped him in a blanket Jinx had decorated. It was a small thing, but you caught the tremor in his hands. Keeping Jinx tucked against your side, you came to stand next to him.

“He’ll be here when you get out of the shower,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Yeah! Go get the baby juice off you!” Jinx ordered.

Silco’s expression of awe turned to one of bemusement as he glanced at your daughter.

“Yes. I suppose I should.”

Your own hands shook a bit as you gathered your son – your son! You wondered if the shock would wear off – and ushered Jinx to follow the midwife out of the bathroom.

With no small amount of effort, your body, beyond sore and exhausted, climbed into bed. The baby cooed and nuzzled and fussed against your chest as you settled into the pillows and duvet. Jinx climbed in on the opposite side, and snuggled close.

“He’s already sleeping!”

“It’s hard work being born. Don’t you remember?” you chuckled.

Jinx laughed, “No!”

A small smile curled the midwife’s mouth as she snapped her bag shut. She turned to you and bowed her head.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you said, eyes on your boy. Then you lifted them to hers, and said again, “And thank you.”

She nodded again, horns catching the light in the room.

“It was my honor.”

She gave you and the baby one last cursory check over, and took her leave.

A few moments after she left, there was a knock on the door, and Sevika stuck her head in.

“Ogre!” Jinx cried. “I gotta brother!”

Even Sevika’s presence couldn’t dampen Jinx’s mood.

Silco’s lieutenant grunted, and stepped over to the bed. She stayed at a distance though, craning her neck to peer down at you and the baby.

“Yep. That’s a baby. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Sevika.”

Behind her, Silco emerged from the foggy bathroom in a fresh pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. Sevika tilted her strong chin in his direction and he nodded back.

“I’ll leave you all to it then,” she said.

Her poncho twirled as she spun back to leave. As she and Silco crossed paths, a metal finger tip whipped out from beneath the red fabric, and poked his bare belly. He jolted and shuddered. He sneered at her, but she just snickered and slipped out of the room.

Silco shook his head, damp hair beginning to curl at the ends. He rounded the bed, and climbed in, sandwiching Jinx between your bodies. He leaned over the girl’s head and kissed you.

“What’re we gonna name him?” Jinx pipped.

You and Silco exchanged a look.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted.

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something.” he added.

Immediately, Jinx began rattling off all her suggestions.

Before a name could be decided, you fell asleep. Jinx followed shortly after; her plump cheek pressed against your shoulder. Gingerly, Silco lifted the baby from your arms, and brought him to his bare chest. The boy tensed, and then melted, a small wispy sigh leaving him.

Silco melted, too; a foreign, near indescribable softness filling him up. He brought his hand to the boy’s back, its length and width nearly covering all of him. His son was so small.

His son. His son.

Emotions gripped him so intensely he nearly choked.

Elation, love, fear.

Grief.

There was grief that his child was born technically as a citizen of Piltover. But that anguish was small compared to the other one that had been tucked away in the scar tissue of Silco’s heart ever since you had told him of the pregnancy. A pain that he hated he harbored.

The secret grief was that Vander wasn’t here to see this. The grief that his Brother had ruined any chance of participating in this milestone. The grief of Vander’s death (justified though it was) was scratched open as Silco’s son lay on his heart. The grief that, had things gone differently, Silco would’ve named the boy after his Brother.

“Sil.”

Silco’s head whipped around at the sound of your voice. Your beautiful, exhausted, beautiful face shone up at him. There was a smile on your lips that he wished to taste, so he leaned over Jinx’s head again and pressed his mouth to yours. 

“I told you you could do it,” he whispered leaning back. You smiled and nodded wearily.

The baby grunted and shifted against Silco’s chest, and he pet the back of his head so, so softly. It broke your heart into a million pieces, and then they jumped right back together. Your eyes slid back up to your partner’s profile.

You felt his grief, because it was yours, too.

“I know, Silco,” you whispered. He looked over to you. Jinx snored softly between. “I wish it had been different, too.”

Silco’s eyebrow dropped, and his lips softened. He glanced down at the baby on his chest, and chuckled ruefully.

“I truly don’t know what to name him.”

You shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. You sat in silence for a while, listening to your children breath. Jinx’s raspy breaths and the baby’s snuffling. It was music to your ears. You would never tire of hearing it.

Just as you were about to doze again, you felt Silco’s energy shift. Eyes sharpening onto him, you watched as he first gently ran his fingers over Jinx’s freckled cheek. Then, so carefully, he lifted the baby from his chest so he could look at his small face.

“You and your sister will have better than we did,” he promised. “Me and your mother will give you a nation.”

Your son’s eyes fluttered open and closed, the bud of his mouth stretching into what looked like a small smile. Your throat tightened horribly, and you tucked your nose into Jinx’s crown.

When you were sure you could speak without choking, you lifted your head and said, “We promise.”

I hope part two scratched the itch <3 If you enjoy my work and would like to support me (firstly, THANK YOU!) check out my Ko-Fi page!

ko-fi.com/kiki13

[lustlovehart]

Hard Stoned Gallery Dance

A/n: This was made like monthhsss ago, so I’m posting it as forgiveness for the lack of work i’ve been doing.

Pairing: [ Monster!Twst ] Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: Dancing is a beautiful past time, yet such a pretty act is ruined, when Malleus decides to let his affections for you run rampant. (Wc: 1.9k)

Warnings: Kissing & Licking, Murder/Death of Minor Characters (Not explicit), Possessive traits, Clinginess bordering obsession, a little blood, Biting/Marking

Your head leans itself on the rough surface of the stone wall. You’ve finished your objective for the day, so giving yourself this break is well deserved, ten minutes free of Crowley’s nagging is still freedom despite how it sounds. Your eyes can’t help but look up at the pretty blue sky, it stings to look at but you don’t mind the pain, seeing something so clear is worth it.

That cloud looks like a cat.

…

The taste of indulgence is quickly stripped out your grasp when the familiar sound of dragging stone resonates through the air, grating to your ears.

“Child of hunters, what may you be doing here?” His rock-hard face interrupts your view of the sky, green solid eyes look down on you as he casts a shadow on your visage.

Despite his body being made of pure stone, his eyes give a faint green glow, as if a bioluminescent moss grew there. His hair, his wings, and even his tail freely flowed as if he were just a regular Dragon hybrid. But alas, he is some sort of statue— Oh no not a statue, in his words a gargoyle.

You forgot about the difference one time and in turn, he gave you a 3-hour lecture on the difference between a grotesque and other gargoyles. Never again…

“I’m trying to hide from my boss.”

“Shall I be rid of him for you?” His mouth forms a little o as a small puff of a green flame releases from him.

“That would be a bad idea, I’d lose my source of income.” He quirks an eyebrow up at this., to be fair, you don’t think he has any clue what a “payday” is.

Despite his confusion, he lifts from his bowing form, a hand reaching out towards you in all its mossy glory. You’ve known him long enough to know what he wants.

A dance.

You don’t try to hide your exasperation as you take his invitation, albeit a bit slow. His stone body quickly pulls you up and into him. With how much tamer his form is compared to other beasts you know, it’s hard to remember that he’s part dragon, and even worse is part of the only few monsters who know magic.

So as of right now, this marks your third time dancing with one of the worst monstrosities currently on the bounty list. No maybe not one of the worst… From what you remember from Crowley’s ramblings (which isn’t much since you tune him out when possible) he’s probably the most dangerous.

You get the basic idea, but you’ve never truly seen for yourself why he’s considered so terrible. Is he not just a glorified water spout? Compared to a Kraken and an Incubus, surely his damage isn’t so grand to be warranted as the biggest beast to hunt.

“You’ll always be welcomed in my castle, you would not be short of accommodations either.” his hand rests upon your waist, pulling you closer than need be. His invasion of personal space is akin to a parasite leeching off its host, but you let him feed of you. Whether it’s from fear or a bond, you’re not decided.

Your movements are sluggish at best, but you can still remember the basic steps in the dance, your foot sloppily setting itself down where it should be, the occasional step on stone happening once or twice though.

“Considering the current state it’s in… is that even safe for me to walk in…? It looks like one good shout and the bricks holding the place together will crumble apart…”

“That is just the disguise we give it, as to not alert others of our presence. For you though, I’m willing to make it stand out if it makes you happy.” The hand lying on your waist retracts itself as he takes his other clawed limb and twirls you around, falling back into position when the spin is done.

“… I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” You know he’s not lying about that. You can distantly recall when a certain mystery monster had told you the tale of a longing dragon who perched himself at the opening of his window to wait for a certain hunter's return.

“Yes, he was so determined to be the first one to greet you, why he even stayed sat at the window for 5 months. It was quite endearing hehe.”

“Doesn’t it take hundreds of years for you to erode? Maybe it’ll take me 50 years to decide, by then I’ll be old and grey and you’ll be perfectly fine.” You take a step forward before the gargoyle's grip on your body tightens significantly, shrieking when he suddenly dips you down unprepared.

His freed hand takes your other arm and lifts it up to rest on his shoulder. Green sparkles are faintly flying around his lips as he slowly leans into the soft skin on your arm. His face leans in and presses chaste kisses on your limb, the gentle texture of his mouth catching you off guard as it tickles your body. Now you get it, he must’ve cast a spell to temporarily soften his lips.

He had attempted to kiss you once without taking this precaution, in turn, you gave him a face filled with discomfort at the stone texture that kept peppering you.

You can still remember the hurt face he had on when he saw your dislike towards his affections.

On his ninth kiss, his forked tongue peeks out from his mouth, licking a stripe up your skin. He finally lifts you up after the assault on your arm, his face only a few inches away from your own. It would’ve been quite the romantic atmosphere, had your nose not catch a sharp smell, and a horrible wretched one at that.

“You could be on your last breath and I’d still wait for an answer. But I hope that won’t happen.”

“Who knows, I work a dangerous job.” what is it?

The both of you twirl in unison despite the lack of music, your bodies in tandem as they move to just the sound of your surroundings. Though, your body is a little more sluggish than his own.

That stench… Is too familiar.

Eventually, your last steps fade out as you stop in your tracks.

“Is something wrong dear hunter?” Your grip on his shoulder fastens, if he was human you’re sure you would’ve broken his shoulder.

“What did you do?”

A smile is lit on his lips, his head tilting to the side, giving you such an innocent look, like he did nothing wrong.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“The smell… Iron… This whole time I thought it was just the smell of the forest. But…” You swiftly pull a dagger out from your side, throwing it past his shoulder, the tip of the steel piercing into what sounded like wood.

He doesn’t turn back, only continuing to smile at you, as if you’re the only existing thing here, or more accurately, the only thing he cares about.

The bark of the trunk splits in half, falling to the ground, revealing the source of the stench. The top of the tree isn’t green, it’s red and brown.

4 pairs of hands stick from the leaves.

“You… What did you do Malleus–?!“ he’s quick to twirl you again, his grip on you tighter than it’s ever been. Despite your protests, he continues dancing as if you hadn’t seen anything.

You’re suddenly stricken with the memory of your first meeting with the beast, blood coating his mouth when he looked at you, pure admiration when he had finally met the muse everyone spoke so dearly of.

“Malleus, you—!“

“Tell me, dear human, was it not you who spared me?” He dips you down. “Was it not you who saw a beaten beast and allowed him to live?” He lifts you up. “Even as you walked away with a piece of stone you let go of one who’s rendered thousands over the years,” he pulls you in. “Dead” every action with your body is harsh, but not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you.

Because why would he ever wish to harm you?

He’d much rather smother you in affection, even when you’re exerting all your energy to kill him as he hugs you.

“It’s because you…”

“Looked so human?” He continues to keep you close, impossibly so, your skin melting into his, not from fawness, but fear.

“How did you know-“

“You’ve spared so many of us because we made you feel something in the moment,” he must be referring to everyone else… The look you gave him is dazed, caught up in the thought of every other monster you let get away. His fingers cage your chin in between them. “But don’t forget what we are.” Sparkles fly, temporarily blinding you.

When you open your vision, you’re greeted by the sight of Malleus, with the appearance of what he looked like if he was human, or at least similar to a human.

His skin isn’t rough and solid, his breaths are warm, and his hair is soft and pretty rather than a soft moss.

His eyes are a nice green, a pretty green. A color you would’ve enjoyed more had he been a human. Such a lively color shouldn’t be backdropped by crimson, yet, it is.

Behind him, several other trees collapse on themself, revealing the other tops, the same as the tree you had just seen. Views of stray limbs and vaguely familiar faces of hunters invade your mind, panic setting as you finally realize a question you should’ve asked long ago…

Why was Malleus so far from his castle?

Before you can react, your ears hear a faint whisper, eyes going heavy as little pings of thorns claw at your shoes. The last thing you see and feel, is his face leaning towards you, his finger loosening itself from your chin.

In a blink of an eye, he’s no longer the human you spared, but the monster you let escape back into the wild.

The fiendish of smiles is graced on his lips. Not because of evil, but because his smile, is so love stricken.

All because of you.

“Seems the little birdy fled the nest without permission.” Your eyes slowly flutter open, the familiar figure of a man bowing on top of you. “Now, I’ll forgive you as we weren’t expecting such a beast to appear-“

He’s immediately cut off in his sentence when a searing pain cuts through his chin.

“Augh—! How could you kick me after I spent precious time searching for you!“

“You’re the reason I’m here in the first place…!“

“I didn’t do anything!“ Despite your annoyance towards Crowley and all he stands for in your life, you can’t deny if someone had seen this scene play out in front of them, they would assume you two to be a father and his bickering child.

You attempt to stand to your full height, faltering at the pings of pain in your ankle. You suck in a breath, looking down as you nurse hurt skin.

There are briar thorns wrapped around your leg, a single rose adorning the stems, and a gentle green hue that contrasts the pure black of the floral life.

“Oh my, what were you doing last night?”

“… Night?”

“You’ve been gone for 36 hours my birdie.”

You don’t feel any different… Save for the prickle of thorns and fresh bite on your arm.

… Fresh bite?

Despite the indent, it doesn’t hurt, it’s like, he left it there as a reminder of your failures, at least to you. It could very well be his way of staking his claim on your heart.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get him when you could’ve, with your connections, you could’ve spared us a huge loss today…” you’re cruelly reminded of the people that lay to waste hidden in the trees. “We should let today serve as a reminder of what you must do.”

Crowley doesn’t look happy at the sight of so many employees who failed their jobs, yet he doesn’t look grieved either.

You… Truly, you wish you weren’t so softhearted during your missions. Maybe then, this could’ve all been avoided.

A/n: Like I said, this piece was from so long a goo, so i’m so sorry if the plot isn’t to anyone liking, but if it is, i’m happy you enjoyed it!!

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 11th. blaise - mirror sex, body worship.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: writing this was detrimental to my health. blaise is a man. a MAN. you’re having a terrible day, your boyfriend knows what you need to make it better.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, teasing, begging, doggystyle, dirty talk, praise so much praise, body worship, soft dom blaise, pet names, the usual nasty shit you'll find this month.

"Yeah that's what I said...he didn't listen to me, though. Of course."

Parchment crinkled under the weight of your hand, quill scratching faintly as your boyfriends voice hummed in the background—an effortless drawl that filled the room like low music. You barely caught the words, caught up in the mechanical rhythm of  your writing—but that didn't stop him from droning on, stretched out like a relaxed cat on your bed—one leg bent, both hands tucked behind his head, his gaze lost somewhere in the ceiling's quiet expanse.

"And? What happened?" You asked, finally letting the quill drop, grimacing at the ink smudged across your fingers.

"Detention," he said, clearly amused, "cleaning rat barrels for a week."

You managed a smile, but it was small, fleeting—more like a shadow of the real thing. Blaise noticed, of course he did, but he let it linger undisturbed, as if waiting for the right moment to ask what was really wrong. His stories were always an offering, an attempt to pull you from the depths of a day that felt as heavy as the sky before a storm—which usually helped, but today, even he couldn't shake the weight entirely.

You rolled away from your desk, chair wheels creaking until you reached the mirror. There you were, reflected back at yourself—no makeup, hair half-tumbling from the ponytail you'd given up on hours ago, the lines under your eyes telling a story you didn't want to read. You sighed, lifting a hand to touch the flyaway strands, knowing it wouldn't help. You were a bloody disaster.

"What're you lookin' at, baby?" Blaise was behind you before you even realized it, his warmth filling the space behind your chair, his arms snaking around your waist with the same natural ease as breathing. "Did I tell you you look beautiful today?"

You exhaled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in the glass—

"Don't lie, Blaise," you muttered, the exhaustion making your voice heavier than it should've been. "I look a mess."

"Not a lie," he whispered back, his lips so close you could almost taste the mint on his tongue. His hand lifted, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down the side of your face like it was something sacred, like you weren't just a tired girl with too many thoughts. "You're always beautiful...so, so beautiful."

The heat from his words bloomed in your chest, a slow burn, even as the weight of the day pressed heavier. It felt as though the reflection was mocking you—this version of yourself you could barely recognize, worn down by everything that had gone wrong.

"I can tell when something's bothering you," he pressed on, his voice drawing you back, patient and unhurried. His fingers made soft circles on your stomach, waiting, coaxing. "Wanna tell me?"

"Nothing's bothering me...I just.." you shook your head, the words coming out on a breath, too small to carry the weight of what you meant. "I just had a bloody terrible day."

He hummed, thumb grazing your skin. "How terrible?"

"The kind that makes you feel like the universe is against you," you whispered, gaze falling, unable to look at him while your voice cracked. "I'm sorry—I know you wanted to go out tonight, but I just—"

"Shh—hey, don't do that," he interrupted, his fingers tilting your chin, forcing your eyes back to his in the mirror. "I don't care about going out. I care about you. We don't need to be anywhere else. I've got everything I need right here, baby. Okay?"

Merlin—your heart clenched, the ache reminding you just how easy it was to fall in love with him—and how you managed to do so, all over again, every single day. Blaise always had this way of making you feel like the center of the world, even on days when you felt like you were disappearing from it.

A small, trembling smile ghosted across your lips, and you nodded. "Okay."

"Yeah?" He nudged your chin gently, brushing more stray hair from your face—he never once took his fucking eyes off of you. "You're so fucking beautiful, babygirl...how are you all mine..."

A sigh escaped your lips as his fingers moved to massage your shoulders, his lips finding their way back to the curve of your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your skin. The tension in your body began to melt, replaced by something warmer, softer.

"Messy hair, no makeup...you're a fucking dream," he whispered. "Every morning I wake up...and I still can't believe..." his hands trailed down your arms, a slow blaze of fire, grazing over your belly before they curved up your chest. "...that all of this...is all for me..."

Your head tipped back, a soft whimper slipping from your lips as he pressed himself closer. One of his hands slid back up, fingers curling around the base of your throat, his thumb stroking the side of your neck. He groaned softly against your temple, other hand still pawing at your chest.

"Look at you," he rasped as his eyes met yours again in the mirror. You could feel his gaze tracing the outline of his hand wrapped around your throat. "Tell me you know you're beautiful."

Your heart was racing, breaths coming in shallow bursts as the intensity of his touch, his words, filled the room. He was crowding over you, pressed against the back of your chair, his hands insistent but not frantic, like he had all the time in the world—

"I know," you whispered. "You tell me every day..."

He hummed, the sound vibrating in his throat. "Mhm…and I'll keep telling you…because I don't think you get it yet...just how truly beautiful you are…”

Your lashes fluttered, eyes heavy beneath the weight of his gaze as his fingers moved lower, the buttons of your shirt parting effortlessly, baring the delicate lace underneath.

His jaw clenched, hunger flickering behind his eyes, his touch roughening with it. “…and just how lucky I am... to get to touch you like this."

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, your back arched, baring yourself to him with a shivering sigh. His hand around your throat tightened, not too much, just enough to remind you he held you, that in this moment —this skin—belonged to him.

His other hand moved across your chest, teasing your nipples through the lacy fabric, kneading, coaxing your heart to race under his palm.

"I'm a better man because of you," he whispered, lips ghosting over the pulse at your neck. “...because you make me want to be."

Your whimper came unbidden, warmth flooding your veins as his eyes never left yours—devouring you through the glass. This wasn't just about touch. It was something Blaise always made sure you felt in this relationship, the thing tethered between you—the fulfilment of a need to be seen and a need to be known.

"Look at you." His lips tilted in a breathy smile, dripping with reverence, with something sacred as his hand roved over your chest, taking his time. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."

Both big hands fell to massage your tits now and a small, broken sound escaped you—helpless against the onslaught, your body betraying your efforts at control. You closed your eyes, biting your lip to stem the flood, but it was useless. Blaise, like this, was unrelenting, determined to make you remember this moment, every whisper, every touch. His voice was an echo you'd hear in your dreams.

"Blaise..." his name fell from your lips in a breathless whisper. “Gods.”

"Open those pretty eyes for me, babygirl..." he purred  as his teeth grazed the curve of your neck. You obeyed with a shiver—your reflection pure chaos — a mess of need and want, heat pooling low in your belly, an ache between your legs you couldn't ignore. Blaise hummed. "I want you to watch yourself. I want you to see what I see."

His hands slid lower, skimming the curve of your hips and settling on your thighs. You watched as he moved with deliberation, savouring the way your skin shivered beneath his touch. He shifted your legs wider, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher until it bunched around your waist. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you weren't sure who was falling apart faster—him or you.

"Fuck," you moaned, barely holding onto the sound, feeling it slip past your lips like a breath. "Blaise.."

With a satisfied smile, his eyes flicked to yours and you noted the way his breathing shallowed—admired the way his fingers slipped along the insides of your thighs, tracing the soft skin without haste. The sensation made your breath hitch, and you bit down on your lip, fighting to keep your eyes open.

A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest as he pushed your skirt up further, exposing your underwear in the reflection.

"That's my girl,” he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. "These thighs...mm, fuck...so soft.."

His fingers dragged back down, agonizingly slow, tracing your thighs again.

You shuddered. You knew just how needy you sounded but gods—"Blaise, please..."

Blaise knew too, and of course he just chuckled, lips grazing the curve of your shoulder, his teeth catching on the fabric there. The nip was gentle at first, but just enough to make you gasp, your hips jerking reflexively—and you watched his eyes flash, lashes fluttering—

"Fuck...these hips," now he was growling, his nails biting into your skin. "The way you roll them...torture, pure torture... just to make me give you what you want..."

Your breath hitched again. You were a squirming mess, now—each fucking word a slow burn that licked at every nerve.

"Is that so bad?" You whispered, though the words barely left your mouth before a soft moan interrupted them. "Making you…give me what I want...?"

His laugh was rougher this time, his breath searing hot against your ear. One hand moved again, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear—and you realized you were holding your fucking breath—meeting his gaze in the mirror, wide and wanting, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

"Not so bad...when I want to give it to you..." his fingers danced over your clothed cunt—light, taunting, threatening to give you everything you craved but holding just shy of it. Your hips rolled again, involuntarily. "But absolutely disastrous," his fingers traced higher, the ache of wanting made your pulse thunder. "...when I'm trying to make you wait."

You whimpered, snuffing a groan in your throat, and he smiled—watching the effect, his jaw falling open when he grazed over your clit through the fabric and you moaned loud—shameless.

"Gods—Blaise, please—" you were so fucking desperate now. Heat scorching your skin. Eyes squeezed shut. He was going to kill you, you were sure of it. “No more teasing—“

"Eyes open." He husked, bringing one hand back up to cup your jaw. "You close them and I'll stop. Keep being good for me, baby..."

You whinged—meeting his dark eyes in the mirror, lust blown pupils swallowing his irises. You watched yourself—his arms curled around you, strong and firm—long, slender fingers finally, fucking finally, giving you what you want—slipping under your underwear, fingertips kissing the sensitive lips of your throbbing cunt.

"Good girl...so good for me..." he muttered, slicking a single digit between your folds, grazing your clit. That did it—blinded with relief, you whinged, moaning deep in your chest. "Oh fuck, you're so wet...you need this, don't you, baby..."

"Yes—Gods—" you held his eyes in the mirror, hips jerking toward his touch. "Need it...need you..."

"So sensitive f'me..." he whispered in your ear, brushing the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. He kissed at your jaw. "I'll never get tired of hearing you say that...that you need me..."

"Fuck—I do—always—" the words bled out, unfiltered. "Always need you."

Blaise shuddered, you could feel his hips rocking gently against the back of the chair as his fingers found your clit, indefinitely this time, and began drawing tight, frantic circles over it. Your back crested, your head falling back just slightly before you remembered what he said and returned your gaze to his in the mirror—he was watching you, body crowding yours like he was preparing a meal—and you spread your legs wider, noting the entire mess he'd made of you in minutes.

"Beautiful," he cooed, jaw tensing as you gripped his wrist—one hand shifting to grope your chest. "Messy girl...m'dying to get inside you..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Blaise—baby—please..."

Wetness soaked your thighs—coated his fingers as he dipped lower and pushed two inside you, crooking them deep. The reaction was involuntary—you cried out, ground your hips into his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, wanting—no, needing more. He groaned, squeezing your breast harder than you're sure he'd intended—teeth sinking into your shoulder in a futile attempt to compose himself.

"Fucking hell—that's it, baby—" his thumb twirled your clit, fingers driving deep—bliss burned your eyes, and you moaned. "Soaked and still so fucking tight...fuck.."

"M'gonna—I need you—" you were babbling, lost in sensation, coherent thoughts banished to the perimeters of your mind. "Inside—pleasepleaseplease—need you—"

"Cum first," his hand on your breast slipped up, tangling through your hair and nudging your face toward his—his lips found yours, soft and tender. "Wanna' make you feel good..."

Pleasure flooded you, muscles collapsing as you succumbed to it—Blaise kissed you again, holding you there, tongue delving into your mouth while he rubbed your swollen nub faster, pumped his fingers deeper.

"I...oh, Gods—already feel s'good..." you moaned into him, and he jerked you harder to his body, tongue massaging yours while his plush lips worked over your mouth. "Mm—fuck—s'good—"

He groaned. "Mhm—cum for me."

And then you did—every nerve in your body ignited at once. The obscene, wet sounds of him pumping his fingers into you filled the room, a rhythm that matched the frantic pulse in your ears. His mouth smothered the desperate cries of pleasure that fought to break free as your body convulsed, writhing against him. Your hips bucked, helplessly seeking more, fingers digging into his wrist like anchors as your entire world spun wildly out of control. He was both your rock and your undoing—keeping you tethered to earth while hurling you into the stars.

It felt like you were suspended in that ecstasy forever, the air leaving your lungs in shattered gasps, until, at last, your breathing found its rhythm again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, his own breath shaky, eyes dark with hunger. He brought his slick-coated fingers to your lips, pressing them past, and you groaned as you took him in, suckling greedily.

"You like that?" His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against your spine. You moaned in response, your tongue swirling around his digits, eyes fluttering shut at the taste of yourself. His other hand moved, urgently, his belt coming undone and echoing through the room as he freed himself, groaning, "Fuck."

Blaise had lost his composure completely—you didn't need to look at him to know it. In an instant, you were on your feet, his hands pulling you up as he kicked your chair out of the way, rolling into the wall with a thud. You turned your head to look at it but his lips crashed into yours, both hands cradling your face as he sank to his knees, dragging you down with him. The hardwood floor beneath you was cold, but his touch—his touch was a wildfire, scorching every inch of your skin, setting your blood to boil.

You moved instinctively and gasped as your fingers found him, warm and hard in your palm, twitching at your touch. He growled low in his throat, his hips jerking involuntarily as you stroked him, kneeling together on the floor, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. The moment stretched, unbearably tense, until with a swift motion, he spun you around, turning you to face the mirror.

His hands were everywhere—on your hips, sliding down your thighs, grazing the curve of your waist—pulling your skirt higher as he met your eyes over your shoulder in the reflection—

"Look at yourself," his fingers tightened on your hips, guiding you back against him, his length slicking between your thighs, grazing against your heat. "See what you do to me."

You gasped, melting into him, tightening your thighs around his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Blaise exhaled, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

"Blaise—fuck—please..." your cunt clenched with anticipation, heat at your cheeks as you watched yourself in the mirror, desperately trying to tip your hips so he'd slide in. "Please, fuck me—"

Your voice was ruined. Music to his ears. Blaise could never deny that begging.

"Shit, baby..." he pressed in, leaning you forward until you were resting on your elbows in front of the mirror—seething as his girth stretched you open—splitting you wide in a way that made your eyes roll. He pulsed at your entrance, taking his time, letting you bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, his were lips parted, chest working with broken breath. "So goddamn tight..."

"Fuck," you moaned, unbridled, his hands bruising your hips as he picked up the pace. "Yes—mm—Gods, yes—"

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Blaise was the most patient man you'd ever met, until he wasn't. He groaned, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps—you were captivated, unable to think or speak or do anything other than watch—fire stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge—you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself before gracing your ass with a soft smack, piercing your cervix.

"Sexy little thing. All fucking mine." He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. "You like that, hm? Watching yourself get fucked?"

You whimpered, neck aching with the force of his grip, nails digging into your palms as he drilled you. The switch in his demeanour was dizzying. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide—you could hardly focus on his words—

"Yes!" You managed. "Fuck—yes—"

He groaned, fucking faster—his gaze ravaged you, wandering over every inch of your reflection before stopping at your jiggling chest. His hand slipped down from your hair to grasp a breast—squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in his huge palm, his other hand snaking down around your thigh to swirl over your clit, and you choked—a noise wrenched from your lungs far louder than you'd have liked.

"Fuck—fuck—" his hips moved erratically. He was getting close. So were you. "Tight—squeeze me s'good—"

You whinged. He swirled his fingers faster. "Blaise—m'gonna—cum—"

It descended upon you—the promise of oblivion—as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, entire body shaking with the pistoning of your boyfriends hips.

His eyes were still on yours, reverence inside them, worship.

He grunted. "Yes—fuck, cum on my cock, baby—let me feel you—"

It was a command that shattered all thought, a primal cry of ecstasy that ripped through you, overtaking every nerve, every vein, every muscle in your body. Your limbs trembled, thighs shaking as the pleasure coursed through you, molten, burning under your skin. You were less than halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth—barely picking up on your boyfriends groans and moans in your ear as you squeezed and milked his cock through your climax, fucking you deep until he couldn't take it anymore and erupted as well—pouring his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty.

Swallowing hard, you collapsed onto the floor, your chest heaving as he pulled out, leaving you breathless and trembling. His hands, still warm from the heat of your skin, gently held your arm as he sank down beside you. Without a word, he tugged you against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a calming rhythm against your back. His fingers threaded softly through your hair, untangling the remnants of tension as the two of you lay there, catching your breath.

After a few moments, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, the touch so tender it made you melt all over again. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving your lips, all the stress that had plagued you earlier dissipating into nothing.

"Maybe I should have bad days more often." You smiled through an exhale.

"If this is what it takes to fix them," he murmured with a smirk, his voice deep and gravelly from exertion, "then I'm more than willing to be your remedy, anytime."

You hummed, a huff of a laugh slipping out as you traced lazy shapes on his chest—inhaling his scent with each breath. You loved this man. Loved that he never failed to make you feel so goddamn beautiful, so special, so needed.

"Seriously though," you whispered after a while, your cheek pressed to his chest, "thank you. For this. For knowing exactly what I needed."

His fingers stilled in your hair, a quiet hum of understanding in his throat.

"I always know what you need, baby," he said, his voice soft, filled with something more than just desire, something warmer. "And I'll always be here to give it to you."

[ellecdc]

Yaaay:D

That poly moonwater sickfic was so sweet- maybe you could write a sequel where one (or both) of the boys get sick from when they were helping care for you <3

I love these little requests from all the way back in May - it's like a little treasure trove. Also, I wrote this while currently sick and tired (both in the literal sense) so I'm not actually sure how this turned out; it took me a really long time to manage what I got so I apologize for inconsistencies or just all around poor writing <3

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who got Reg sick [1k words]

CW: sick fic, fluff, Remus being The Worst™ [positive and affectionate], my potentially poor writing

You scrunched your eyes closed and threw your head back rather roughly against the sofa; arms that were holding your book falling limp into your lap.

Remus - less theatrical - did not throw his head back nor did he let his book fall into his lap, but he too scrunched his eyes shut with an equally exasperated scrunch of his nose. 

“Who gave him that thing?” You grumbled as you tucked a bookmark in to save your page and made to stand.

“Do you want me to go, dove?” He offered softly, giving you a sympathetic look when he caught you by the wrist as you made to walk past him. 

“No.” You grumbled rather petulantly, kissing the space between his brows when they furrowed further in sympathy. “It’s my fault, I’ll go.”

Remus smiled at you before pursing his lips in ask which you quickly answered by placing a kiss there, too. “I hardly think you did this on purpose.”

The - now ear splitting - sound of the bell ringing again interrupted your moment as you let out a sigh.

“No,” you agreed, “I certainly didn’t do this on purpose.” 

You poked your head into the bedroom to see Regulus much in the same way you left him, curled up in the fetal position under a mountain of blankets, though his hand was currently poking out of said blankets with his bell held tightly in his grasp.

“Hey bubs.” You offered gently; knowing that for as nettlesome as you currently found him, you really had sort of done this to him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Awful.” He muttered, barely putting any effort into aiming as he tossed the bell back in the direction of the bedside table.

You made a sympathetic humming sound as you perched on the edge of the bed and pushed some of his curls away from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I have more meds?” He whimpered, voice awfully small as if he already knew the answer but was hoping to elicit some compassion.

You grimaced as you looked at the clock sitting beside balled up tissues, the damned bell you’d supplied him with, a glass half full of water with a pitcher next to it, and some lozenges. “I’m sorry, my love; it’s not been long enough.”

Your response was met with a petulant whine, a body burrowing further into the blankets, and a hand slithering into yours. 

“How about I rub some more vaporub on your chest, hm?” You asked, beginning to pull away without waiting for an answer, only for his hand to tighten on yours.

“Can you just sit here with me?” 

You cooed almost embarrassingly as you settled more comfortably beside him, one hand holding his as the other raked through his hair, “of course” falling so easily from your lips when he looked so young, so vulnerable, and so innocent with his pink flushed cheeks and glassy eyes no doubt from the pressure in his sinuses. 

“I’ve been terribly troublesome, haven’t I?” He asked a few moments later, startling you when you thought he’d been drifting off.

“No, darling.” You denied, though he lifted his head slightly so he could give you a disbelieving look. “You’ve not been terribly troublesome.” You amended, earning you an almost snort of laughter that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. 

You helped him sit up and passed him his glass of water.

“You’re so nice to me.” He whispered as if the feeling of your lips against his temple was a foreign concept. You tried to quell your smile as you pressed another kiss to his fever warmed skin.

“I’m really not, bubs. I did this to you, remember?”

You were met with silence as Regulus’ eyes darted around your face. “You’re so mean to me.” 

“Awe Reg, come on now.” Remus sounded from the door as he walked in with a cup of tea in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean.” Regulus harrumphed, though his ire was quickly undermined as he made grabby hands for the cup of tea. 

“If Remus catches this next, this flu will have had an almost month-long stint in this house.” You mused as Regulus drank his tea.

“I don’t get sick.” Remus offered nonchalantly with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“What do you mean you don’t get sick.” Regulus all but sneered as he glowered at his perfectly healthy boyfriend over the rim of his tea cup. 

“I don’t get sick.” Remus repeated. “It’s like the universe has decided I’ve got enough shite to deal with, my immune system’s just not one of them.”

Both you and Regulus blinked at him with varying levels of jealousy whilst he brushed lint off the sleeve of his arm. 

“Well isn’t that just fucking dandy for you.” You spat eventually, causing Regulus to nearly spit out his tea in laughter as Remus’ mouth fell open in faux offence. 

“You minx.” He accused you. “I’m in here helping you help your boyfriend-”

“My boyfriend!?” You squealed.

“-who you got sick. I think you should be rather grateful.” 

“Grateful.” You scoffed as you turned to look at Regulus like ‘can you believe this guy?’. 

“I’m grateful for you, Rem.” Regulus let out with a sigh as he handed Remus the cup of tea back and moved to recline against his pillows - that you’d fluffed to perfection for him - with Remus’ damp cloth on his forehead. 

“Okay, well, since you’re all so well taken care of up here.” You teased as you made to stand, Regulus circling his hand around your wrist as Remus made a protesting squawk before you were being manhandled into his lap, though your hand remained safely in Regulus’. 

“No.” Remus murmured into your neck. “We need you to nurse us back to health.”

“I thought you don’t get sick.” You accused.

“I don’t, but I find myself deficient in vitamin you.”

Both you and Regulus groaned as you tried to wriggle yourself free from Remus’ grasp and Regulus buried his head under the blankets. 

“Both of you out, all this corny flirting is making me nauseous again.” Regulus grumbled.

“Well, you heard the man.” Remus stage whispered quickly before he was all but shoving you out of the room. “Feel better bubs! You know where to find us!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Regulus called. “I’ll just ring the sodding bell.”

“You should have never given him that bell, dove.”

[luveline]

Ok this isn’t Halloween but I would love to see a fic of the first time r spends the night at Aaron’s and she changes into her pj which r these super cute delicate tank and shorts set and Aaron goes crazy!! Like he’s a gentleman obvi (or trying hard to be) but he starts opening my flirting with her and she’s so confused bc usually he’s much more subtle

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

cw adult theme mdni

You don't bother changing in the bathroom. It's not an attempt to come onto him, though you're wondering if he might want that, but a realistic practice. If Aaron wants to be intimate with you tonight he's going to see much more of you than your bra.

He returns from the bathroom as you're pulling down your camisole. It's a simple pair of pyjamas but made of a more expensive fabric, the shorts bordering immodest and the camisole cupping your breasts with enough support that a quick glance in the mirror tells you what you'd wanted to know; you look cute. 

Aaron smiles at you, something unreadable in his expression. His brows lift ever so slightly. "Nice socks." 

"I get cold feet sometimes," you say, pressing your fuzzy heels together. 

"Yeah?" he asks, pushing his hair out of his face. "Me too." 

"What side do you sleep on?" you ask. 

"What side do you sleep on?" he asks back. "Go where you want." 

You pick a random side, too nervous to think about it in depth. The sheets are crisps to the touch and smell freshly laundered, soft against your naked legs. You feel a little like you're playing make believe all cleaned and washed yourself, your heart in your wrist as you squeeze it, watching him flick off the big light and cross the carpeted floor slowly. His room, his entire apartment, is smart but cosy, ambient lamp light and open space. 

"Do you wanna watch TV?" he asks, putting the remote in your lap as he shakes out the sheet and slips in next to you. His body heat is immediately felt. His knee brushes yours as he leans in. "Hold that button down." 

Despite what you'd said about cold feet, you're nervous and he runs warm; by the time you've found something to watch on TV he's sewn his arm through yours and you're practically running a temperature. You have to take your legs back out and lie atop the sheets. 

You pull a knee up. The shorts ease down. 

Aaron sinks into the bed with you, his head just a touch higher than your own. "I'm really happy you're here," he says. 

"I'm happy too," you say, turning your face to his. Nervous, sure, but this is a milestone for your new relationship you're ecstatic to achieve. 

Even if he doesn't have any seductive intention tonight, you're eager to spend the night in his arms. He's older (impossible to ignore), more gentlemanly as a consequence, and during the course of your relationship there have been more important things than sex, like establishing trust with one another, and making sure that your relationship could withstand his constant working. 

"I'm really happy," you say, lifting your chin and fireworks erupt in your chest as he leans down to meet you, kissing you gently. 

"Is this…" His hand trails to the soft of your stomach, pink brushing your thigh where it's hiked. "Your usual nighttime attire?" 

"This is the wanting my boyfriend to like it attire," you confess, because he already knows. Aaron knows everything. He could tell you where you bought them if you gave him long enough.

"Consider them true to form," he says, hand sliding like a heavy, hot weight across your stomach and leaving a worse heat behind. "You look amazing." 

"Yeah?" you ask. 

His lips skin your cheek. He nudges you with his nose to encourage your head back and kisses softly under the line of your jaw, "They're a little small," he says, kissing between whispers, "the shorts." 

"They're not tight," you whisper in turn. 

His hand falls to your thigh, spreading your legs a terrible inch as he tugs at the hem of your shorts. His fingertips dip under them a millimetre as he agrees, "No, they're not. Your top, though…" 

"It was a matching set. I couldn't choose–" 

"Do you have many like it?" he asks, pulling away, meeting your eyes with a charge you've only seen a handful of times. You know exactly what it means, your chest aching with want as his hand comes to rest at the top of your thigh. 

"Sure. Two or three." 

"That won't do." 

You're nervous, but he's your boyfriend. You know more about him than he might think even if you don't know him intimately yet, and his arduousness makes you laugh. He's always been such a gentleman —not many men would ask you to be their girlfriend with a pearl necklace, or invite you to stay the night via text rather than at the end of a date. You'd expected your first time together to be a come up for coffee situation, but he's never propositioned you that way. The text was a sweet surprise, an addition. 

Would you like to stay over after dinner on Friday? Let me know. Can't wait to see you either way. 

No matter what you want, Aaron wants that too. 

You turn into his lap and catch his lips with yours, his hand encroaching on the soft fat of your inner thigh. 

His lips part under yours and you take his face into your hands, a giving in if there ever were one, hoping it says everything you're too shy to admit aloud. No matter how much he clearly likes the shorts, he abandons your thigh and hugs your back to him instead, your chests pressed together until yours is heaving for air. 

"You're usually more subtle than this," you tease, breathless, good-natured. 

"You aren't usually wearing this," he says, his usually smooth voice roughened, "I'm losing my mind." 

"Well, we can't have that." 

He leans back in, laughing against your lips. When his hand works its way under your camisole, you think about where you can get more pyjamas like these ones considering he likes them so badly, but then his hand crawls higher and the thought leaves your mind for the time being. 

[enwoso]

A lovie request where she has a terrible fan encounter maybe she’s watching the game with her uncle Luca and when they try to get down to alessia at the end lovie gets shoved and falls over and is being crowded and she’s so scared and calling out for someone to help her but the fans are more excited because Leah/ alessia are signing things at the barrier

BACK OFF — alessia russo x child!reader

just a little something something to say thank you for 800 followers!!! i love and appreciate you all so much. forehead kisses for you all xoxo

grumpy masterlist

game day was always busy day for you but always a fun day nevertheless.

you would always travel to the stadium with your mummy and then you would find either your uncle luca or nonna depending on who was coming to watch. then you could enjoy the match in the stands and it also gave alessia the chance to do her full pre-match prep without the worry of you being around.

always cheering for your mummy with your jersey on and her number on your back, you being the loudest one there. screaming louder than anyone when your mummy scored. always being your mummy's number one fan.

the match had now ended against sweden and now all you wanted was to see your mummy, but alessia was doing her rounds around the pitch. stopping and signing shirts and posters as well as taking photo for fans at the barrier. along with the rest of the lionesses.

alessia's name being called out in all direction. you though for this game where sat in the friends and family box at the top of wembley. your mummy looking like a small figure on the pitch.

you had been patiently waiting at the stairs that would take you all the way down to the barrier and to your mummy but you were being told to wait by your uncle luca. and you were bored of waiting.

“we go on now luca?” you asked with a sweet smile as he hummed looking down towards the queues at the barriers all with people pushing and shoving to get the the front. luca obviously not wanting to take you down their if it wasn’t safe.

“just give it a couple minutes then we can go, okay?” luca said as he took another glance down the bottom as a little huff came from you. you just wanted to see your mummy.

this is why games at the smaller grounds were your favourite, you didn’t have to wait for people to scatter as your mummy would be straight over lifting you over the barrier and into the warmth of her arms. you on your own little excited ramble about the game you’d just watched.

you were beginning to get really impatient, if there was one thing you didn’t like and that was waiting.

“we go now” you asked again dragging your words out as a small sigh came from luca as he nodded slightly.

“yes, but slowly there’s still a lot of people down there!” he pointed to the many fans holding shirts and banners in extended arms as well as screaming your mummy’s name.

you replied with a small okay, jumping out your seat with your teddy wrapped under your arms as you were finally allowed to begin to walk down the steps.

you started off slowly but with each step you picked up the pace knowing your were getting closer to seeing your mummy. “tiny, slow down…” luca trailed off but it was no use you were to far in front now.

alessia had spotted you making your way down the steps, your little excited wave as you got closer to her. but alessia made the silly mistake of waving back drawing some unwanted attention your way as you were mere inches from the barrier.

"oh my god it's alessia daughter!"

"can she sign this for me!"

"can i get a photo with her!"

fans started to crowd around your small frame as you got a little scared at all the unknown faces now looking at you, you a lot smaller so you had no one to hide behind as alessia tried her best to get as close to you seeing the crowds around you.

the fans starting to get a little bit more pushy invading your personal space as you began to get more and more overwhelmed.

fans were pushing you, trying to get closer to you but also the barrier as alessia was getting closer. "luca" you whined but it was no use as you didn’t know where he was so he wasn’t able to stop the few hundred fans pushing your small figure around.

"help" you whined a little louder, as the crowds around you got smaller. men in bright yellow jackets pushing them away and yelling for the unknown faces to ‘back off’ in a deep and scary voice as you were scooped into your mummy’s arms.

your mummy pulling you tightly into her chest as small sniffles came from you. you still being a little overwhelmed from the interaction.

"it's okay lovie, mummy's got you" alessia cooed as you sunk into the safety of her arms, the fans shouting her name as she said a quick few words to her brother, luca nodding at her words before she quickly waved to the fans.

walking back into the centre of the pitch, it was a little quieter. you calming down as alessia kissed the top of your head. "you okay now lovie? what happened?" your mummy asked as you frowned.

"people shouting my name and your name! and then they start pushing me" you said with a sad smile and tears still prominent in your eyes as alessia nodded as she began to explain how some fans just wanted things to be signed and that they probably didn't mean to push you.

"me no like fans" you huffed with crossed arms and a frown on your face. a small laugh coming from alessia with a knowing hum as she placed a kiss to your cheek walking towards her teammates.

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Content Warnings: modern AU, smut, vaginal fingering, hand job, vaginal penetration, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: Another entry for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge (drive in setting, dialogue prompt in bold/italics), a verrrrrry late entry for @bigtreefest Essie's Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration (public sex/trying not to get caught) (and shhh, Essie said I could be as late as December, but this is just/only Labor Day Weekend), and week 13 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer (free week).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You didn’t want to watch this scary movie. Scary movies were not your thing.

But you didn’t know that the local drive-in movie place was doing Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays - a double feature night with a different rom-com and slasher fic every week when you said yes to your stupid hot neighbor Bucky Barnes. He’d asked if you liked drive in movies and if you’d go with him, and you hadn’t thought even a second before accepting.

Bumping into him throughout the building since you’d moved in last spring, sure, it was problematic to have a crush on a neighbor, but he was stupid hot.

Which made you do stupid things - like accept a date with him.

You canceled plans that you’d already had in favor of this date.

Typically you weren’t a fan of movies as a first date, but since it was a drive in, not a theater, you’d have your own space and not bother anyone if you actually wanted to talk - but if for some reason stupid hot Bucky Barnes turned out to be a dud, you would also be able to tune into the movie without seeming totally rude.

Privacy? Yes. Good.

A little bit of talking? Also yes.

He’d picked you up in his big pick up truck, which meant at the drive in, he’d backed into the spot, and now you were in the bed of the truck on a camp mattress and blankets.

Things had been lovely for the first flick - which turned out to be one of your favorites. The two of you had chatted sporadically but easily throughout. There’d been a short intermission where the two of you took a walk, stretched your legs, and gotten some ice cream from the concession stand.

All of that had been lovely. Easy time with him.

It had allowed you to trick yourself into the false confidence that you could handle the other half of the double feature.

But the slasher fic had you jumpy, scooting closer and closer into Bucky’s chest, until now you had your face permanently half hidden against his chest.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you chirped. 

“Are you sure? We can leave, I really don’t mind, I’ve see this at least twenty times.”

“No, I’m - I’m fine,” you said quietly. 

He murmured your name against the crown of your head, planting a kiss there. “We don’t have to stay.”

But that little kiss? Being tucked cozily against him? Your whole body was humming with butterflies and warmth despite the cool evening summer breeze flitting over your skin.

“I’m safe here,” you hummed. 

Bucky ticked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You sure about that?”

You giggled - genuinely but with a surge of nerves. “You’ll protect me.”

He smirked. “Only from everyone else.”

“Is that a threat?” You arched a brow and smirked. 

“It’s a promise,” he replied, lowering his voice, ducking closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

You shivered, and he chuckled and pulled you closer. You laughed into his chest, resting your hand lightly on his sternum. “Honestly, if you ever become an actor, don't ever do a slasher flick.”

He scoffed. “What? Why’s that? I’m not such a terrible actor!”

You looked back up at him and shook your head. “I’m not convinced. But also, I’d have to go see it, and clearly I wouldn’t be able to handle that experience.”

“Fine, I promise, I’ll tell the non-existent agent for the acting career I’m never pursuing that slashers are off the table.”

“Good.”

Bucky shifted to make both of you more comfortable. As he shifted, his strong arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer against his broad chest. You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine.

"You know," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear, "I'm really glad you came out with me tonight."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and those piercing blue eyes. "Me too," you whispered.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time - just spend time with you. But now you’re driving me crazy, and I can’t keep my hands off you."

Your breath hitched as his hand slowly slid down your arm, savoring every curve and dip. “Then don’t,” you responded. You slipped your leg up over his thigh, tangling your limbs together.

His touch was gentle yet purposeful, exploring the softness of your skin. You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers ghosted over the swell of your hip, squeezing lightly.

"I love how you feel," he whispered, his voice husky. "So soft, so perfect."

His hand continued its journey, caressing the generous curve of your waist. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, craving more. Bucky's fingers splayed across your stomach, appreciating the plush roundness there.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Bucky's fingers danced up your arm, caressing the soft skin. He traced the curve of your shoulder, then along your collarbone. His touch was feather-light but left a trail of heat in its wake.

You tilted your head back to look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and intense blue eyes. Bucky's gaze roamed over your face, lingering on your full lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky reiterated, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed yours softly at first, tentative and questioning. You responded eagerly, pressing closer and parting your lips slightly.

Bucky took that as invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you flush against him. You melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his firm body against yours.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues exploring as passion built between you. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and muscular back, marveling at the strength you felt there. Bucky's own hands weren't idle, caressing your curves with reverence.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow," you whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wow is right."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. You jumped, startled by the sound from the movie. Bucky chuckled against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," you mumbled, feeling a heat creep up your neck.

"Don't be sorry," Bucky murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I think it's cute how jumpy you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Glad my terror is entertaining for you."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Well, I do enjoy being your protector."

Another scream rang out from the movie, making you flinch. Bucky's arms tightened around you instinctively. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. "I'm usually not this much of a scaredy-cat, I swear."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Sure, sure. I believe you." His tone was teasing, but his arms stayed tight around you.

The score for the movie swelled and pursued a chilling tenor, making you tense. Bucky's hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently pressing your ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the film.

"Better?" he murmured.

You nodded against him, feeling safer wrapped in his strong arms. "Much better."

His fingers combed through your hair soothingly. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment if the movie's too scary."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Bucky's eyes darkened as they roamed over your face. "I can think of a few ways to distract you from the movie."

His hand slid down your back, coming to rest on your hip. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling you against him. Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body pressed against your softer curves.

"Oh?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like what?"

Instead of answering, Bucky dipped his head and captured your lips in a searing kiss. This wasn't like the earlier kiss - soft and exploratory. This was heat and passion and barely restrained desire. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Bucky's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of your lower back. You arched into him, craving more of his touch. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your skin.

You tilted your head, giving him a quizzical look. This man you had categorized as stupid hot because he was so handsome it couldn’t be real seemed to be as gone for you as you were for him.

"I'm driving you crazy?" you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You're the one who's been making me lose my mind for months now."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his blue eyes searching your face. "Really?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Really. I've had a crush on you since the day I moved in. Why do you think I always seemed to be doing laundry at the same time as you?"

A slow grin spread across Bucky's face. "And here I thought I was the one making excuses to run into you."

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Looks like we've both been idiots."

"Well," Bucky murmured, leaning in close again, "then we should make up for lost time, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding. You melted into the kiss, savoring the feel of his strong body against yours. His hands roamed your curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body arching against Bucky's. His hands roamed lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Bucky," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "We're in public."

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Don't worry. No one can see us back here."

To prove his point, he rolled you both so you were lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. The truck's high sides and the darkness of the drive-in lot provided a surprising amount of privacy.

Bucky's lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his abs.

"God, you feel amazing," you breathed.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more.

Bucky's large hand cupped your breast, kneading gently through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped at the sensation, your body heating up despite the cool night air.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the movie made you jump. Bucky chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you.

"Still scared?" he teased, his thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.

You shivered, both from his touch and the reminder of where you were. "Maybe a little," you admitted.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "We can stop if you want," he murmured, his hand stilling on your breast.

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I don't want to stop. I just... I've never done anything like this before. In public, I mean."

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just cuddle and watch the rest of the movie if you want."

You bit your lip, considering. The fear of getting caught was thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. But the way Bucky was looking at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, made you want to throw caution to the wind.

"I want you," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his hand resuming its gentle kneading of your breast. You arched into his touch, your body humming with need. His other hand slid down your side, fingers teasing the waistband of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips.

“Mmhmm, please touch me, Bucky,” you pleaded, craving more.

Bucky's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. His hand slipped inside, cupping you through your underwear. You gasped at the contact, hips bucking up into his touch.

"So responsive," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe. "I love it."

His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clothed center, building the tension coiling in your belly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed.

Bucky's lips trailed down your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply as he made contact with your bare flesh, stroking through your folds.

"God, you're so wet already," he groaned against your collarbone.

You whimpered as he teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

"Bucky, please," you breathed, not even sure what you were begging for.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he slowly pushed one finger inside you.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing you softly. "Gotta be quiet, remember?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short pants as he began to move his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing small circles that had you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped Bucky's broad shoulders as he worked you closer to the edge. The pleasure was building rapidly, your hips rocking against his skilled fingers. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your whimpers and gasps against his skin.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmured encouragingly. "Let go for me. I've got you."

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. Combined with the steady pressure on your clit, it was quickly becoming too much.

"Bucky," you gasped, your body tensing. "I'm -"

"Come for me," he growled softly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

The coil of tension in your belly snapped. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your orgasm hit. Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as you shuddered against him.

As you came down from your high, Bucky slowly withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss, feeling oversensitive and boneless. He pressed soft kisses to your face as you caught your breath.

Then he licked your slickness off his fingers, and your breath hitched as he groaned at the taste of you. Your hand trailed down his chest, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you asked.

Bucky groaned softly, hips bucking into your touch. "You don't have to-"

You cut him off with a kiss, your hand continuing to rub him through his jeans. "I want to," you murmured against his lips. "Please, let me make you feel good too."

Bucky groaned, his hips rocking into your touch. "God, yes," he breathed.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, suddenly feeling clumsy with anticipation. Bucky chuckled softly, reaching down to help you. Together, you managed to unfasten his jeans and push them down his hips.

You slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. Bucky hissed in pleasure, his head dropping to your shoulder. You stroked him slowly, marveling at how hot and thick he felt in your hand.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned softly. "Your hand feels so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, you increased your pace, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Bucky's breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your grip. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, growing even harder if that was possible.

"Wait," Bucky gasped, gently grasping your wrist. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

Your breath caught at his words, desire pooling low in your belly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, Bucky."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as his hands worked to push your jeans down your hips. You lifted your hips to help, shimmying out of the tight denim. Bucky's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs as well.

The cool night air hit your heated skin, making you shiver. Bucky's warm hands ran up your thighs, parting them gently. He settled between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core.

Bucky reached for his wallet. You raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a condom.

"Presumptuous, weren't we?" you teased.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he tore it open. "More like hopeful. You sure about this?" he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching for the condom and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I'm sure. I want you, Bucky." You took his stiff cock in your hands and rolled the condom down slowly over his length.

Then you laid back, and he guided his tip to your entrance. He groaned softly, capturing your lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the stretch, your body accommodating his impressive size.

Bucky stilled once he was fully seated inside you, giving you time to adjust. You both moaned softly at the sensation of being so intimately connected. He peppered kisses along your jaw and neck as you breathed through the initial stretch.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You nodded, running your hands down his muscular back. "Yeah, you can move."

Bucky started with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed. The movie's soundtrack provided some cover, but you still tried to keep quiet.

"God, you feel amazing," Bucky groaned softly, his hips snapping against yours.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built rapidly.

"Bucky," you whined.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach until they settled on your sensitive clit. The gentle pressure of his thumb against you sent sparks of pleasure through your body. "Come for me," he whispered in your ear, urging you on as he continued to stroke and tease your sex. You couldn't resist the sensations, and soon you were gasping and moaning in ecstasy, and he swallowed up as much of your sounds as he could with another kiss.

Bucky's movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. You clenched around him, still riding the waves of your orgasm. The added pressure pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. The sounds of the movie filtered back into your awareness - screams and dramatic music that seemed absurdly out of place now.

Bucky lifted his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "That was..."

"Amazing," you finished for him, grinning.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling very exposed. Bucky noticed your discomfort and quickly helped you redress, then took care of himself.

Once you were both decent again, he pulled you back into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling sated and content.

"So," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, "I think it's safe to say this was a successful first date?"

You grinned and looked up at him. "I'd say so. Though I'm not sure how we're going to top this for date number two."

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something. I've got plenty of ideas."

"Is that so?" you teased, trailing your fingers along his jawline. "Care to share?"

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "How about I show you instead? Say, next Saturday?"

Your heart fluttered at the promise in his eyes. “Just no more slashers, deal?”

“Deal,” he chuckled, then sealed it the best way, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips in a kiss.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

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[kykyonthemoon]

The spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly

When comparing hands, you realize how tiny you are to him.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader/MC

(Included parts in order: Caleb, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, comforting and healing, size gap, long-distance relationship (for Caleb's part)

ಇ. Word count: 3k2

ಇ. Requested anonymously

ಇ. The title of this fic is a lyric from Owl City's song - Vanilla Twilight.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

Since childhood, you had always loved holding Caleb's hand.

You adored putting your small hand in his palm. To feel such warmth. His hands were usually larger than yours. At first, there was not much difference between the hands of two children. But as you got older, the gap widened. You began to notice this and frequently inclined him to compare hands.

“Hey Caleb, give me your hand.”

"What for?"

“Just do what I said, and give me your hand.”

Caleb was thrilled, waiting for you to place a piece of candy or anything intriguing in his hand, which had just expanded to its full size. Then he got upset when he felt the touch of your hand instead.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmmph." You pouted. "Still not as big."

You put your hand on Caleb's, measuring front, back, left and right. He eventually lost patience and said:

“Why are you measuring my hand?”

“Because I want my hands to be as big as yours. Only with such big hands can you hold so many gifts and pies from Grandma..."

Your face was extremely serious as you spoke, but it made Caleb roll around in the grass, laughing until his stomach hurt.

“Why are you laughing at me?!” You felt a little offended. You struck Caleb hard on the arm. It was painful.

"Ouch!" He yelled, then got up to face you. His hair still had grass in it. "Listen up, pipsqueak. Your hand will never be bigger than mine."

"Why?"

“Because I will always be taller than you, bigger than you. I must be taller to protect you and Grandma! My hands must be bigger to always hold yours!”

Having said that, Caleb curled his fingers around your palm. You grinned naively, believing that such large hands were ideal for doing all of the chores or lifting heavy objects for you.

One time, while learning to cook with Grandma, Caleb burned his hand. He tolerated pain very well and did not whine. On the contrary, it was you who frantically ran to find ointment to apply to him. You were crying:

“Caleb, you have to be careful! You have to take care of these hands... If something happens to them, who will do the housework for me?..."

Caleb laughed. He used his other hand to pat your head. “What are you worried about, pipsqueak? I will always protect you. Who did I start learning how to cook for?"

You sobbed. Honestly, you felt so terrible every time Caleb got hurt.

Time seemed to fly by. You both were growing up. The space between the two hands also extended. At one point, suddenly, just comparing hands with him turned your cheeks red.

But these days, you did not get to do that often anymore. Caleb went to the academy so far away, and then his long missions left him with few opportunities to visit home. In his free time, you could only chat with him online. You really missed the feeling of his large hands shielding yours. You said:

“Caleb. Give me your hand.”

On the laptop screen, he burst out laughing. “What now? Even though I'm so far away, you still want to measure my hand?"

“Just do what I said.”

Caleb shook his head in defeat. He brought his hand close to the camera and spread out five slim fingers. His hands were thin and smooth, but after being accepted into the academy, you could feel the roughness or new calluses there. You smiled, raised your hand to the screen and pressed it against his.

“Looking from this angle, my hand is bigger than yours!”

“Wow, pipsqueak has grown bigger and stronger than me!”

Oh, how much you missed him! You were about to burst into tears and tell him to come home to you right that moment. It had been a long time since his last return. You longed to hold his hand.

But you wouldn't make Caleb worry if he had to embark on a mission away from home. You tried to show him your brightest smile. And you whispered:

“Yeah. You've always taken care of me since I was little. Now it's my turn to be stronger to take care of you."

Caleb knew you so well, because you were always the thing in the palm of his hand he cherished most in the world. He was silent for a long moment, then gently said:

“Pipsqueak, don't be sad. I'll come home to you next weekend, okay? Make sure you eat plenty. If I return home and notice that your hands have thinned even just a little bit, I will be very displeased!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

The first time you met him, he left an impression on you with his large and steady hand.

You found Xavier on a mission. Since he did not move, you came closer and gently shook him. Then his large hand gripped your wrist securely. You were astonished by the sudden vigor with which you were seized. To be honest, you were afraid at the moment.

The second time you met him, his big hand protected you once more and took you out of danger. That hand placed around your waist, not squeezing hard to the point you became uneasy, but it was a gentle touch, as if he was frightened you might vanish if he held you too closely. Perhaps from that moment on, you felt the warmth and safety of being in his arms. And all your walls eventually collapsed, embracing the way he entwined his soul with your own.

Then you became used to holding his hand as you walked together. When you had to maneuver through a congested area, he would gently squeeze your fingers, as if to remind you to pay more attention to him. And as you two went along a quiet street or sat on the subway with his head resting on your shoulder, he tenderly rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. A gentle gesture, just enough to let everyone know that this girl was his.

His knuckles were hardened from sword practice. His skin was also consistently dry. He was clueless about how to take care of himself. So you began to learn about lotions for nourishing hands.You always carried a tube with you. On one occasion, you took it out and applied it to Xavier's hand.

"What's this?" He inquired.

“Hand cream.” You murmured this as you massaged the soft white cream into Xavier's obediently outstretched hands. “Your skin is so dry. I bought this for you to use.”

He did not answer, just stared intently at you taking care of him. When the thin layer of cream was absorbed, he turned his hands over and observed with a blank expression.

You giggled, then held out a hand in front of his face and said:

“Put your hand here.”

Xavier displayed confusion before placing his hand on yours and softly hitting the palm.

"High-five?" He inquired, continuing to appear perplexed.

"No." You answered, grasping Xavier's wrist to keep his hand close to yours. "I want to see how large your hands are. Hmmm…"

Xavier's hand was a little bigger than yours. You loved these hands. They constantly offered you a sense of security. On any endeavor, you could put your life in his hands without any hesitation. In daily life, you would always reach for his hand whenever you went out, or when your free hand wanted to feel his warmth. The only thing you never dared trust in these hands was, perhaps, cooking.

Xavier smiled. His hands felt significantly smoother after applying the cream, and they retained a very subtle flowery aroma. He laced his fingers with yours, then leaned down and placed a kiss on your hand.

“My hands smell like yours now.”

"Of course." You replied while blushing. “It's the same type of hand cream.”

Xavier did not respond. You caught him pondering for a long time. The next day, you found him applying the entire tube of cream on his hands.

"Oh dear! What are you doing? There's no need to apply that much!”

You quickly went to get a towel to help him clean up. He sat on the sofa, looking rather bewildered while you asked him:

“Are you going to use up the entire tube like that?”

Xavier responded: “Yeah… Since… This morning when I woke up, I couldn't smell your cream anymore. I want to use it all so the fragrance lasts longer.”

You rolled my eyes at Xavier, and a few seconds later you fell down laughing on the sofa. "Oh my! You did it in vain. These things don't last long."

“Is that so…” Disappointment was evident on Xavier's face. Seeing that, you sat close and tangled your hand with his. You said:

“If you like this scent, I will buy more for you.”

“What I like is your scent.” Xavier replied. His thumb caressed your hand. “I like the scent of your hair, your clothes, your hands… Everything that belongs to you…”

You were surprised, and delighted. Your face was more radiant than the sun outside the window. His hand felt so large and warm. If you could, you would never want to let  go.

You squeezed his hand once. Fingers pressed closely together. You progressed from being terrified of this foreign hand to when it became familiar, and now inseparable. It was weird, since despite only knowing him for a short time, it felt like you had loved him your whole life.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you whispered:

“Xavier, don't ever let go of my hand, okay?”

"Never."

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

You preferred to visit Rafayel's studio more frequently these days. Of course, compared to staying in a small apartment alone, coming here to work with him, drenched in sunlight and sea breeze, surrounded by flowers and grass, was definitely a much more sensible choice.

But the main reason remained Rafayel. You enjoyed watching him in silence, as he concentrated on painting. His long fingers wrapped around the brush, perfect as if he was the work of art. You had undoubtedly noticed Rafayel's hands since the first time you met, when he demonstrated his incredible fishing talents. He was adept at wielding a racket and far more skilled at holding a brush. The hues of the mythical world depicted in the painting gradually revealed itself under his magical hands. He did not always use a brush, instead dipping his hands in the paint, and as his fingers started dancing on the white canvas, you believed you saw a rainbow even though it was not sunny that day.

You loved how Rafayel rotated the brush in his palm while contemplating before getting started with painting. You loved the way his fingers held the chopsticks and  transformed the food into a culinary movie. You liked the way he wrapped his long finger in your hair to play with it. It seemed that everything he did with his hands was perfect, and unreal.

“Rafayel. Can you raise your hand?” You asked him that out of nowhere one afternoon at the studio. He was focused on an art book, so he did not respond and simply executed what you asked.

You extended your hand, intending to press it against his. Yet he raised his hand a bit higher. You grimaced and lifted your palm high. He did that again, and again, until his arm was stretched to its full length, and so was yours. The only thing was, since yours was shorter, you could not reach his palm.

“Rafayel!” You shouted fiercely. He closed the book he was reading and flung it on the sofa. On his face was a triumphant smile.

"What? Can't reach it?"

With an irritated expression, you rose up and seized his hand. Fingers intertwined, perfect as if he and you were made for each other. You used a great force to push Rafayel down into the sofa, while your other hand maintained your body weight by positioning it near his neck.

The smile on Rafayel's face disappeared. The scarlet hue of a ripe tomato gradually crept across his statue-like face and reached his ears. Rafayel seemed displeased.

“Are you bullying me?”

“Who bullied who first?” You argued back.

Noticing that Rafayel had begun to move beneath you, his hand entwined with yours now yearning to escape, you held him even tighter. His hands were slender and cool, velvety like a baby's skin. The veins were barely visible underneath the thin skin. The fingers were extremely lengthy; they belonged to an artist rather than a warrior like you. Even his nails were tidy, pink, and well-filed. Looking back at your hand in his, it was dry and small, with short fingers and nails that were neglected due to a lack of time, you were unable to avoid feeling envious.

“Hey, if you want to hold my hand, just say it.” Rafayel gazed at you furiously. “Is it necessary to pin me down like this?”

“I don't want to hold your hand. I just want to compare it with mine.”

Rafayel scoffed. He replied: “Comparing hands, why? We all know for a fact that I have the most gorgeous hands in the world.”

Seeing how he started praising himself, I sat up bored, intending not to joke with him again. But Rafayel refused to let go of your hand. The other curled around your waist, clutching you hard.

"Where are you going? We haven't finished talking yet, have we? If you like my hands so much, how about I give them to you?”

"Huh?" You were a bit startled. In your mind a scenario of receiving a huge gift box. When you opened it, you discovered Rafayel's severed and bloody hands inside...

Rafayel squeezed your face, as if he knew you were thinking nonsense.

“Whatever you're thinking, with that expression, I'm sure it's not what I want. Follow me.”

Rafayel led you into the warehouse, he pulled out some plaster powder and a few necessary tools. Later that day, there was a new piece in Rafayel's studio, yet not a painting. It was a statue of a small hand tangled with a larger one. A precise duplicate of yours and Rafayel's.

“Come to think of it,” he said as he looked at the final work with you. “My hands are most beautiful when intertwined with yours.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

Doctor Zayne's hands were often cold.

You still remembered learning to knit with Grandma and making gloves for Zayne when you lived close. Unfortunately, you did not get a chance to present them to him yet. You kept them in your old box at home till this day.

At the time, his hands were already significantly larger than yours. They were chilly since his Evol was occasionally unrestrained. In situations like that, he would put his hands in his pockets, look down, and leave fast. Even though you chased him down to ask him questions, he declined to speak, much alone show you his hands.

At the time, there was no scar on his hands.

Presently, when you put on his large gloves, you noticed how enormous his hands were. Your hand was buried beneath a thick layer of wool, only taking up about half of the glove's space. You rolled your eyes.

“Doctor Zayne, look!” You raised your gloved hand for him to see. The wool glove's fingertips had extra room and swung to the rhythm as you waved them. Obviously, the glove was excessively big for you.

“Stop playing around.” Doctor Zayne replied. He took the other glove and put it on your other hand. “Put this on.”

“It's too big. I feel like I'm a monster with gigantic hands!”

You laughed. Zayne grabbed your hands and hoisted them up. He inhaled to keep them warm and responded: "Because someone has lost her gloves on the way here, she must accept her fate of becoming a monster."

Zayne chuckled, but his serious expression made you question if he was fooling or condemning you for being irresponsible. He and you were on holiday in the snow-covered mountains. How silly of you to have misplaced your gloves and not remembered where you had put them. Hence he had to let you temporarily borrow his.

Even after you bought a new pair, you preferred the feeling of putting your hands in Zayne's gloves. Especially when they still felt his warmth lingering inside.

Zayne's hands were always so big, they were twice the size of yours. Your body shape was average, but when you stood next to him, you appeared strangely tiny. He could easily lift you up. He could hold both of your hands together with only one of his. And he could hold all five snow seals lined up side by side in one hand at your request.

His hands were covered with scars. When you inquired about their history, he just made up an explanation that he washed his hands too thoroughly. He saw you as a three-year-old child. Of course you did not believe it at all, but would not ask more until he was comfortable enough to share his story with you. You adored tracing the scars and veins that bulged beneath his skin. Sometimes, he felt ticklish. Other times, he would tell you to stop messing around while he was working. But he never truly pushed your tiny hand aside.

There were times when his hands became very cold. Extremely cold. As his habit, he buried them in his layers of garments without letting you know. He would not dare touch you since he was frightened you would catch that cold. Yet in moments like that, all you ever wanted was to hold him close.

You removed his hands from his coat pockets. They felt as frigid as ice when you touched them. Doctor Zayne frowned. He wanted to withdraw his hands but you clutched them hard. Your little, trembling fingers curled around and cherished those cold hands. You offered them your warm breath.

“Let go of them. You will be cold.” Zayne expressed worry. But you shook your head.

“Just wait a little longer and we'll both warm up.”

“I will… hurt you…”

That was what terrified Zayne. What if he lost control and accidentally hurt you? He would never be able to forgive himself if that happened. There had been many times he had avoided or hidden from you, but in the end, you were always the one who ran to his side when he needed you the most.

Eventually, he gave in. He relaxed his hands in your palms. He rested his head on your forehead, his eyes softly closing. In you there was always the warmth that he yearned.

After a while, Zayne warmed up. You were not cold anymore. Between the hands was an immeasurable warmth that both he and you desired to cherish forever.

That winter, you gave him a pair of new gloves with snowmen on that you had knitted. They clasped securely around Zayne's fingers, a reminder that no matter what, you would never let go of his hands.

[onlyswan]

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 09

Yall this has to be my best chapter yet. So romantic, i really shocked myself here. Please enjoy :) The middle pic is what I imagines omega to be wearing but does not represent the body type of all readers!

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter Warnings: cursing, crying, fluff, smut ,oral- f receiving, fingering, protected piv (ik crazy for me lol)

WC:5.6k

MDNI 18+

The birds outside woke you up this morning, the sound of their sweet melodies peacefully bringing you out of your much needed slumber. The sun was barely rising over the mountains so you knew it was still very early. The alarm clock next to you read ‘5:44 am’. You knew Chan was laid behind you, his heavy arm curled over your figure, holding you close. 

You took a moment to appreciate the feeling of being trapped by him - of his warmth. This was quickly becoming your favorite pastime; laying here with him just enjoying his presence. A part of you wanted nothing more than to lay here all day, wasting away with him. A bigger part of you needed to be productive. You had slept away most of the day yesterday and were feeling quite energized from the rest. 

Chan did say last night that you had things to do today, so why not get this show on the road! It would be a nice surprise for the pack to wake up to a clean house and hot breakfast. First things first- getting out of the alphas hold on you. You shimmied against him, lightly lifting the appendage that held you hostage to squeeze out. You paused when you heard him sigh in his sleep, only to resume when he let out a snore. Cutie pie. 

You grabbed the pillow that you had been laying on and jammed it in place of where you rested previously, in Chans hold. The alpha must have smelled you on the pillow since he pulled it closer to his body. 

After doing your business in the bathroom you went on the hunt for cleaning supplies. You crept through the halls opening doors you knew to be closets until you finally found the supplies in a closet on the first floor. Upon finding them you immediately got to work. 

Starting with dusting, then sweeping and mopping the entire first floor. After that you did all the available bathrooms and then finished with a quiet clean of the top two floors. The kitchen would come after you made breakfast. Surprisingly it only took you until about 8:00 am to get all that done. You felt very efficient! To your surprise none of the boys have awoken yet. You didn’t hear one peep while cleaning. 

You also took the time to add more comfort items to the living spaces. The omega in you begged to make it more nestable so you did. Adding blankets, extra pillows and even a few of your new stuffed animals to couches and chairs. The goal was they would start to retain the smells of your new packmates then you could cuddle the items without shame. 

Next you wandered into your own room. All the bags from yesterday remained there untouched. Sorting through you put away all your clothes and picked out a nice outfit for today. It was almost summer time so you knew it would be warm today and opted for a green floral cami dress that went just above your knees. Minho must have picked this out for you, but it was so so cute you had to wear it. It was just your style. Grabbing the dress and some panties you went to take a shower and to finish getting ready for the day. 

The shower was where you did your best thinking. A place to escape just you and your thoughts. As you washed your hair and body with the strawberry scented products you reflected on the whole pack. If you were a sane person it would scare you just how comfortable you are getting with the pack in such a short amount of time. And how comfortable they are with you. 

But you’re not a sane person. You’re an omega in love. All sanity is thrown out the window when you find your mate. All you want is to be perfect for him. And in turn also for the whole pack. 

There was a blow dryer and curler amongst your things in your room as well as makeup you had chosen while shopping so when you came out you were able to fully get ready for the day. You felt very cute today, you didn’t have any reason to look super nice back when you were with your family seeing as you rarely were allowed to leave the house- and if you did leave never would you have been allowed to wear a dress or anything remotely revealing. Fathers orders. 

You hoped your alpha and pack would like it on you. You straightened yourself up before heading down to cook. It was nearing 9:30 so you hoped they would start getting up any time now. 

Down in the kitchen as you were gathering ingredients you noticed a small sound system attached to the wall and a remote sitting on the island. Grabbing the remote you pressed the power button and when you saw the small light indicating it was on you pressed play. Out came the melodies of a familiar band. 5 Seconds of Summer? Whoever is hooked up to this obviously has great taste! 

That was where Seungmin found you, whisking eggs and belting out the words to ‘She looks so perfect’ and he couldn't agree more. ‘She does look perfect’ He thought to himself. He stood there leaning against the wall admiring you for a solid 2 minutes before you noticed him, suddenly being able to smell another person around you spun around in embarrassment at being caught like that. 

“Seungmin!” 

He cracked a smile at you, eyes scanning you up and down before settling on your reddened face. “Hey baby. Whatcha doin?” 

You turned away from him to try and hide the blush that seeped onto your cheeks, “Nothing. Just trying to get breakfast together. What are you doing?” 

He shrugged “Been up for a few minutes when I heard a commotion in here. The house looks really great. Was that your doing baby?” You felt him approach you while you nodded. 

“Umm yeah, I woke up early and wanted to get some things done for you guys.” You continued to whisk the eggs without looking at him. 

“Mmm” He reached for your face, turning you towards him, “ It is greatly appreciated, omega.” 

You let out a squeak when he called you that, causing a smirk to appear on his face.

 Seungmin could smell how pleased you were so he didn’t give it another thought before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss directly on your lips. He pulled away and licked his own lips still gazing into your shocked eyes. 

“How long until food is ready you think?” He asked. You couldn’t believe how nonchalant he was being right now after he just kissed you!! 

‘Should I pretend my heart isn’t beating out of my chest?’ You wondered. 

“ A-about 20 minutes.” Dammit you stuttered! Get a grip! You mentally scolded yourself. 

“Perfect. I'll wake the pack”  He said it with an evil smirk, looking forward to the task. 

-----------------------------------

Wake the pack he did indeed. By playing police sirens on his phone and bursting into everyone's rooms cackling when they swore at him and dodging thrown pillows (and one stuffy from Felix). If you had known he was going to do that then you would have woken them yourself! Though admittedly it was pretty efficient, since it was a matter of minutes until the rest of your pack made their way downstairs, looking tired and grumpy. 

The grumpiness left every single one of them though, when they caught eyes on you. Looking oh so delectable in your little dress cooking for them. What a perfect thing to awaken too. 

Not that you noticed much, you were still caught up on the feeling of Seungmins lips on your own. Each boy greeted you as they came down, most giving you hugs - except Changbin who not only hugged you but did his signature of lifting you from the ground. 

When Minho had come down you thanked him for the dress. He knew you would look great in the outfit and damn he was right. 

“You’re welcome, Baby. It looks good on you.” He replied and gave you a wink

Chan came down last as you and Minho were setting the table, looking freshly showered. 

“There's my sweet girl. I was wondering where you wandered off too.” the alpha kissed your temple. He took the stack of plates from your hands and continued your task. 

“Good morning Channie.” You reached back for the plates but he shooed you out with a smack to your rear. 

“Nuh uh looks like you’ve done enough. Sit down and get some food, omega.” He raised his brows at you when it looked like you were about to protest. You begrudgingly took a seat in your normal spot. Chan gave you a pleased smile. “Good girl.” 

Once the whole pack was sat together you all discussed each other's plans. Changbin was hitting the gym (what was new there), Minho wanted to get more food for the house and Felix wanted to join him to the store, while Hyunjin had his weekly art class he teaches at the community center every wednesday afternoon. 

“What are you up to today, baby?” Jisung asked with a mouth full. 

“Oh, I don’t actually know.” You looked to Chan for the answer. 

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Well you have an appointment in about an hour to see a doctor, we need to make sure everything is okay after you got off the suppressants. Then we’re heading over to the police station to clear up your missing persons status.” 

You were confused. “I have a missing person status?” 

“You ran away from home, Baby. Ran away from Hongjoong, who probably paid a pretty penny for a sweet girl like you. Makes sense they would look for you.” Jeongin reasoned nervously. The youngest alpha would never admit it but he was honestly scared about the Ateez pack coming for you or Chan. It was weighing on a few of their minds. 

Chan could sense the uneasiness in the room. “But we’re getting it taken care of today. I already have it all ready to go, just need you to sign a few things and you'll be golden. No more worrying about Hongjoong.” He smiled with that predator's smile he had. His words brought you some ease, and you nodded at him. His next words though, shook you to your core.

“Plus, if that asshole did decide to show his face around here I would take care of it.” 

--------------------------------------------

After dropping off Hyunjin and Changbin at their respective locations you and Chan headed for the doctors office. Chan had assured this man was very good at his job and could be trusted. 

Doctor Bong had been Chan's doctor for years, and before that had been childhood friends with the alpha. He was a friendly beta man, albeit younger than any doctor you had ever seen, and he did his best to help you relax with small talk as he examined you. Even though you’re the first real omega he has treated he still had some knowledge as he had to do a course on omegas in medical school. 

“Given how long you had been on the suppressants I am going to need a small blood sample to examine.” Dr.Bong said woefully at seeing your expression. “ I know it’s not ideal, but you had been on some pretty powerful drugs, Y/n.” 

“Not to mention illegal.” Chan muttered scornfully. 

Bong nodded “Yes that too. There's a reason you can’t just pick up a prescription for them. They could cause a lot of damage and we need to be sure you’re functioning correctly.”  

Your alpha grabbed your hand and released a calming pheromone to relax you. “This is to help you, baby.” 

You took a deep breath and prepared for the needle. Chan was laying his scent on thick, it now taking over all your senses completely distracting you from the blood draw. You were so wrapped up in him that you didn’t notice the draw had been done until Dr.Bong was putting a bandage on you. 

You snapped out of the daze when Dr.Bong exclaimed “All done! We will send this into the lab asap and get back to you by tomorrow morning at the latest. From what I can tell so far though your body is functioning pretty normally, maybe just your hormones are a little wacky. I would refrain from any.. Unprotected fun until we get the results in to be sure.” He looked pointedly at Chan. 

“Damn” Chan smirked and you gasped in embarrassment.

“Chan!!” 

He only laughed at your mortification. 

“Before you go” Bong said, “If everything checks out alright are you going to need a prescription for non hormonal birth control?” 

You were too shy to answer correctly, only nodding when Chan said “Yes please Bong. Wanna have some time with my girl before we have babies.” 

As you were checking out with reception Chan thanked the Doctor. 

“I appreciate you getting us in to see you at such short notice Bong.” The alpha bro hugged his friend. 

 “Anything for you, Chris. I am so happy you found your person. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I get the results in.” 

“Thanks man.” He saw you approaching him, “Ready to go gorgeous?” 

You smiled happily, now that the hard part for you was over, “Yes alpha!” You turned to the doctor “Thank you Doctor Bong!” 

Your alpha grabbed your hand and you were off to your next stop. 

-----------------------------------

The people at the police station had the paperwork ready for you upon your arrival. They just had to ask you a few questions regarding your safety, you signed the document stating you were in fact not missing and that was that. 

It felt like a massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders, Chans too by the scent coming off of him. 

The sheriff congratulated Chan on finding his omega, clapping him on the back in a fatherly way. It seemed like everyone in town knew the alpha. It had been explained to you that Chan's family had lived in the town of Silver Ridge for generations, helping to cultivate it and protect it. His family owned the property you now live on, only now it belonged solely to your alpha. He had grown up here. His parents left the small town  with him and his siblings when he was a teenager, wanting a change of scenery. Chan had only returned when he was an adult and his grandfather had passed, leaving his massive home to your alpha. 

He had a stake in his family business of buying and selling massive commercial properties, so he was very wealthy. Though he didn’t flaunt it.To him it was just one of the ways he provided for his pack.  Not that you cared if he had money or not. You loved him for him, not his money. 

After the police station there was still about an hour before you were supposed to pick up Hyunjin and Changbin so Chan took you to a little diner down the road where he claimed they made ‘the best chili fries ever’ and that you had to try them. 

He dragged you to an old booth in the corner, his normal spot he claimed, and ordered a massive plate of chili fries and each of you a milkshake. 

As he ate you just admired him. It was crazy how handsome he was, even with a mouth full of fries his beauty was effortless. He caught your eyes and grinned at you. 

“What are you looking at, beautiful?” 

You looked down ashamed you had been caught staring “Nothing.” You glanced up at him to see him still looking at you in amusement. “You’re just really handsome is all, Channie.” 

He chuckled at your words “ And you are too sweet, my gorgeous girl.” 

You felt the mating claim on your neck tingle at his compliment, so subconsciously  you raised your hand and lightly touched the area. Of course Chris noticed- he never took his eyes off you- and asked in concern “ Does it still hurt?” 

“No, just..” There was that blush again. He patiently waited for you to find your words. “Just whenever you say sweet things to me.. It.. tingles.” 

The alpha let out a small growl at your admittance, feeling his pants tighten. 

“Does yours do that too, alpha?” you asked tentatively. 

“Tingle wouldn’t be the word I would use, baby. But I definitely feel the connection in my bite.” He winked at you. 

“W-what does yours feel like?” 

His stare was piercing into your soul, “Baby. I burn for you.” You gasped as he continued “ It's this ever present heat that dwells within me whenever you are near me.  As if I had been living in a tundra my whole life never knowing warmth and now I’ve suddenly been transported to the desert. Inescapable and all encompassing.” 

Oh my fucking GOD 

Did he really just say that?! 

What the fuck do I say to that? 

You were short circuiting. You just couldn’t believe this perfect specimen of a man was spilling his heart out to you, in a public diner no less! 

Your pleased scent was cascading off of you in waves at this point, Chan could see the other patrons start to turn to look at you, nostrils flaring. He noticed one alpha man in particular start to fidget in his seat while gazing at you. 

Chan narrowed his eyes as if challenging the other male before addressing you, “Time for us to go now, my love.” He threw down a few 20s on the table and stood, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Your alpha was pumping out menacing pheromones, letting others know he wasn’t one to fuck around with.  

You finally caught onto what was happening when you saw heads turning to watch you walk out. You clutched harder onto Chan, holding his arm close to you as he led you out. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You murmured as you exited the restaurant, climbing into the car as he held the door open for you. 

He leaned down and pressed a hot kiss against your mouth, letting it linger for a second before he pulled away. 

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault those bastards can't keep their eyes or their noses to themselves.” He gave you a tight smile at you before closing the door once he was sure you were secure. 

You couldn’t help but feel like you soured the mood, the guilt beginning to feel like a pit in your stomach. Chan climbed into the driver's seat next to you and started the car. He knew you felt bad about what happened. “Seriously Baby, it’s no big deal. It was about time to go pick up Jinnie and Bin anyways.” He gave you another kiss and you were off. 

----------------------------------

Your mood improved slightly after picking up the other two boys, they always brightened your day. Changbin was still slightly sweaty when he got in the car, his musk making you dizzy. As if he could tell he gave you a wink when you looked at him in the folding mirror. 

Hyunjin had a large canvas with him that was covered in a sheet blocking anyone from seeing what lies underneath. When you asked him what he had made he blushed and held the canvas close to him, muttering that it was a surprise. Of course Changbin would never let that slide so he relentlessly teased the beta, tugging on the sheet and whining about needing- not wanting - to see it. Hyunjin held his ground and refused each time, slapping the alphas hands away after every tug. 

Arriving home Changbin flung his door open and opened your door for you before Chan could, giving his alpha a sly smile when you thanked him. “Ever the gentleman, aren't you Binnie.” You teased him. He nodded enthusiastically. 

Jisung greeted you at the front door when you walked in, planting a wet smooch on your cheek causing you to squeal and laugh, pushing him away. “Jisung!” 

“Mm say my name again baby.” He leaned in for another kiss but instead licked your cheek quickly then ran away cackling maniacally. 

“AHH JISUNG!” 

 You went to chase after him but were stopped by Hyunjin grabbing your arm gently. 

“Ignore him baby, I do.” 

You huffed. “Fine.” 

The beta snickered and lowered his hand to hold yours, the other still gripping his canvas. “Can I show you something? In my room.” 

You nodded “Of course.” He led you up to his room. Chan gave your rear a pat when he passed you. 

You had never been in Hyunjins space before. The space was so…Hyunjin. Cream colored sheets and curtains, a big easel by the wide bay windows, shelves lined with paints and mountains of sketch books, and floral paintings covered the walls from floor to ceiling. His bed was unmade but it somehow added to the charm of the room. An artist's room. 

He closed the door behind you, and led you to take a seat on his bed. The beta then took the canvas in his hands - still covered- and placed it on his easel. He turned to you and fiddled with his hands. You gave him a patient look, waiting for him to gather himself. 

“Promise you won't laugh.” He states. 

You made an X over your heart. “Cross my heart, I won't laugh.” 

He let out a nervous breath and then tore the sheet from over the artwork. 

You weren't prepared for what lay underneath, a gasp leaving you. 

It was you. Hyunjin had painted you. In the exact outfit you were wearing now. He made you look ethereal. Capturing your image in a way that felt too perfect. In the painting you were sitting by an open window looking out into a field of flowers. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin.” 

He studied your features, looking for any signs of displeasure. He found none. 

“I was teaching a class today and the topic we worked on was things that bring you joy.” You looked at him like you were going to cry, tears on your lash line. “The only thing I could think of was you. Of how effortlessly beautiful you are.” 

A sob escaped your lips involuntarily. The betas eyes widened in panic, upset he had done something wrong. He rushed to your side and took your hands in his own. “I'm sorry baby! I’ll get rid of it!” 

“No!” You demanded, still crying. “ I can’t believe you think of me this way. It’s so beautiful, Jinnie. Way too beautiful to be me.” 

He shook his head disagreeing. “ This is how I see you, baby. To me you are the most beautiful girl in the world. I can feel myself falling for you.” 

You acted without even thinking about it, and crashed your lips into his. He let out a noise of surprise and you pulled back quickly. 

“I am so sorry Hyun-” Before you could finish your sentence he kissed you again. He let go of your hands and brought them up to cup your face, deepening the kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip asking for permission which you gladly granted, parting for him. He tasted so sweet. Like rock candy, or a jolly rancher. Similar to his scent. It drove you crazy. 

He was the first to pull away, your lips chasing his. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that.” He rested his forehead against his own, eyes closed and breathing heavy. 

You released your own shaky breath, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I thought you were going to yesterday, when you left me in front of my door.” 

“I wanted to. I just didn’t know if you wanted me like I wanted you. Like I need you.” He could smell the sudden flare of arousal emanating from you. 

“ I do, Hyunjin. I need you too. It’s still taking some getting used to that it’s ok for me to need you, but I do. I think I’m falling for you too.” You were honest with him and he rewarded you by nuzzling his nose into yours, giving it a peck. 

“I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, baby.” Though if your smell was any indication you were quite enjoying yourself. 

You shook your head, “I’m not uncomfortable Jinnie. In fact I.. I want more.” 

“Oh baby.” Hyunjin purred then reattached his mouth to yours and he lightly leaned you back to lay on his bed, hovering above you while he kissed you. He stuck his tongue back into your mouth, massaging your own with the wet appendage. 

You let out a squeak when you felt his hand find your thigh, his warm fingers running up and down your skin. Your own hands found the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to you. You felt yourself get drunk on the taste of him. 

He slid his hands up to your hips, under your dress, and he drummed his fingers there. Without removing his lips from your skin he peppered kisses from your lips to your chin and down your neck, the opposite side from your mating mark. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said in between kisses. “Tell me to stop before I go too far.”  

“I don’t want you to stop.” 

“Omega.”  His right hand traveled from your hip to your clothed core, thumbing over the wet patch. “Already so wet for me, huh? I haven't even touched you yet. My dirty girl.” You could feel him smirk against your skin, his kisses turning sloppy and wet.  

He rubbed against the wet patch through your panties, pushing the material between your folds and stimulating your bundle of nerves. 

A small moan slipped from you and you bit your lip. By now your slick was building quickly, completely soaking the fabric. 

The beta hummed at feeling it. “I can feel you starting to wet my fingers, baby. Can’t let all that goodness go to waste, can we?” He cooed rhetorically. 

Hyunjin laid one more suckling kiss to your chest (that will surely turn into a hickey) then he scooted himself down your body and bunched up your dress to sit over your hips. He finally got a good look at your soaked panties- a pair of green lacy ones. ‘Fitting’ He thought. 

He was drowning in the scent of your arousal, being this close was like a slap in the face. He could taste it before he even got his mouth on you. Hyunjin looked up at your red, panting face one last time before closing his eyes and licking up the wet patch on your underwear. He let out the filthiest moan he had ever made when he made contact. In turn making you moan too. 

“Ji-jinnie.” 

At the sound of his name he reached up and pulled your panties down your hips just enough to lick you with no barrier, then he dove in with his tongue. He swiped it up and down your folds, over the slit, collecting the liquid that leaked from you, drinking it like he was parched. Like he was dying of thirst. 

Your hands found his hair and you yanked in pleasure, your back arching. He took that as his invitation to go further, slithering his tongue to circle your clit where he wrapped his lips around it and suckled. 

A whine tore through you, so good but wanting more. 

“Jinnnnie please” 

He hummed in response, the vibrations flowing straight through to your core. 

“Nnnnnggghh” you groaned. 

He humored you and brought two fingers up to your opening, coating himself in the slick, before pushing in slowly up to the last knuckle. 

Your panting got louder at the intrusion. You were finding it difficult to keep quiet with how good it felt, the whole pack probably knows by now anyway. Not that you cared right now, but later you would be mortified. Oh well that was a problem for later. 

He gave you a second to adjust, feeling you clench on his fingers every time he licked your bundle, before easing the digits out slowly then back, a steady motion that gradually got quicker as he went. Soon enough he found the perfect rhythm where your moans got the loudest. He paid attention to things like that. 

Your thighs were beginning to shake from the pleasure, you knew if he kept it up you would tip into oblivion. 

“Jinnie ‘m gonna cum.” You pulled his hair in warning. He stayed steadfast, if anything he licked harder trying to get you there. After only a few more thrusts of his fingers you came with a cry, hips bucking against his face and hands knotted in his blond locks.

‘Damn she sounds divine when she comes’ He mused in his head, instead letting a moan of his own escape him at the taste of your cum and the sweet sounds you made for him. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted his face to show you the wetness that covered the bottom half of his face. Then he made a show of sucking those same fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling when they hit his tongue. 

“Hyunjin!” You squealed and hid your face, “That's so dirty!” 

“Only for you, baby.” It hurt how sincere he was. “Do you wanna continue, or was that enough? I don’t wanna push you too far.”

Even though you were a little sensitive from the last few days you still wanted him. “ Wan’ you Jinnie. Need you.” 

He stood quickly to pull down his pants and underwear, revealing his length to you. It was so pretty. Long but on the slimmer side. Drool worthy. 

He removed his bottoms from himself completely, and pulled his shirt up over his head letting you get a good look at his slim but fit figure. He was tan like he had been in the sun recently. He reached into his bedside table for a condom, remembering what his alpha had said about not cumming in you. Yet. He quickly rolled it on. 

He got back on the bed and crawled up your body to hover over you, where he then gave you a peck on the mouth. “Are you sure, baby?” 

“Yes. Please Hyunjin.” you purred. 

He groaned “You’re gonna kill me one day.” 

The beta took himself in his hand and lined himself up, sweeping through the liquid to coat him, then slid inside inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to him. 

Your arms came to wrap around his bare shoulders, a long drawn out moan in his ears like the most beautiful melodies. 

You were so warm inside, and you gripped him like a vice so tightly he almost stopped breathing. After a beat he gave you a gentle thrust, then another and another, going deeper with each one. He took one of your thighs and wrapped it around his waist to press himself further into you, letting you feel his weight. If he died now he would die a happy man, having gotten a taste of what it’s like to be with you.

With each thrust you let out small high pitched noises, unable to contain them. Not that Hyunjin wanted you too. It wasn’t long before you were close to the edge once again. You were still worked up from the last one. 

Hyunjin could feel his impending orgasm but he needed you to come first. He brought two fingers up to your mouth and ran them along your lips gathering the drool that was accumulating there. Then he took those same digits and lowered them between your bodies to your clit, where he rubbed hard figure 8s. 

That seemed to be all you needed, your arms tightening around him as you came hard on his cock. Your eyes screwed shut as you moaned.

When you came you clenched hard. Hard enough to push Hyunjin to orgasm, he crashed his lips into yours and he shook against you as he filled the condom. 

For a few minutes he just held you there against him, both of you breathing hard. He wasn’t an alpha so he didn’t have to worry about a knot and was able to slip out if you easily. He held the condom secure as he did so, then stood up and quickly took it off and disposed of it in the trash can in the corner. 

You were still panting but coming too as he stood up. Can’t believe that just happened. There was a twinge of guilt for it, but that was quickly replaced with peace when Hyunjin gave you that signature grin with his pouty lips. 

He came back to his bed where you were still laying and plopped down next to you, giving you a kiss. “How was that, baby? Are you feeling ok?” 

“Mmhmm” You answered, snuggling up to the beta, needing the after sex comfort. 

“I hope you don't regret it.” His voice was timid now, as he put his face in your hair. "Don't regret me."

“No Hyunjin, of course not. I could never regret you.” There was zero hesitancy in your voice so he knew you were telling the truth. Chan had given you explicit permission, encouraged it, so there was nothing to regret. It felt good to be loved and wanted by these boys. Hyunjin definitely made you feel that way. 

He showed it by taking care of you now, getting up to grab you some water and a fresh pair of underwear from your room. Then he plopped down next to you once again and engaged in some cuddles. You could get used to this. 

A/N: Finnnnaallllyyyyyy getting some action from the other boys >:) I am so damn proud of this one yall idekkkk. These chapters are quickly becoming more and more self indulgent lol sorry

Beta read by the lovely @ayejaii thank you bumble <3

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

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