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kqutie · 3 months ago

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EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER THREE : THE NEW ISLAND

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader ; hermes/reader

chpt. sum. : You and the crew spend some time on your island, where they try to stay sane from all the crazy antics you pull. One God in particular, however, is having all the laughs, much like his great-grandson.

tags. : reader continues being a disney princess ; female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; this chapter is kinda chaotic XD ; the crew are simps ; hermes makes an appearance ; hermes being a flirty menace ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; characters know their future ; happy ending for everyone!

length. : 6.5k

a/n : I wrote this to feel better from my cold and monthly cramps all at once and I've gotta say, it was the perfect remedy (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)♡ it's just that it may read like the person who wrote this was suffering from sleep-deprivation and if you think that then you're absolutely right! please forgive me (⸝⸝๑﹏๑⸝⸝) i needed something to do other than rot in bed when i couldn't even sleep because it was so hard to breathe without pain anywho~ enjoy!

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Venturing onto the island, you lead the way and invite Odysseus, Polites, Eurylochus and the crew to explore. You know that your island is safe, so you turn to everyone with open arms and a bright smile as if to say ‘Welcome! Please make yourselves at home’. Polites couldn’t help but grin at your obvious invitation, his heart-warming over the ‘open arms’ message he has managed to pass onto you.

“Thank you, fair maiden,” he takes a knee and bows, prompting everyone else, even Odysseus, their king, to follow his lead, “Thank you for welcoming us here,” The bashful image of you they look up to makes their hearts melt. Soon enough, they were happily setting out to explore the island, taking in its beautiful scenes while you venture off on your own, too.

You had one goal in mind: setting up a bath. Nothing is more relaxing than having a hot bath to soak in and getting to feel refreshed and new when you’re done washing up. Finding a secluded location, you design a bathing area composed of three outdoor baths with lots of bamboo surrounding it for privacy and equip the general area with the amenities needed, such as baskets full of bath towels and dispensers for shampoo, conditioner and body wash. You even set up a section of shower booths, where you plan on demonstrating how to use the shower before they get in the hot springs, for sanitary purposes.

The entire time you were putting things together, the crew had settled down, enjoying stable ground for the first time, in a long time. They had never seen such lush grass and thriving wildlife before. However, it only made sense. This was your island, after all, their fair maiden, who only seems to bring peace and comfort. Naturally, your home island would be a paradise.

“How wondrous,” Polites voices in awe, spotting an orchard of fruit trees and a crop field across the river where a beautiful wooden bridge arches to cross the gap. He’s never seen such elegant architecture quite like it before and speculates that it may come from the distant East.

“What a beautiful place,” Eurylochus comments, also in awe of the island’s gorgeous scenery and herbage. It was an unknown place that they were exploring for the first time and yet, he’s never felt safer.

“Where is our fair maiden?” Odysseus asks his nearest crew member, unable to admire the landscape for long, his mind too occupied by where you’ve disappeared off to without warning. Over the few days he’s spent in your company, Odysseus has grown a strong feeling of protectiveness over you. It’s a feeling he can comfortably liken to one he feels over Ctimene, his younger sister. Immediately recognising the warm tenderness and unable to deny it, he falls fully into the emotion instead. He’d happily take on another sister. It’s needed, especially with 600 men surrounding you.

“I believe I just saw her speed by,” Lycaon comments, making the Captain raise a brow.

“How fast could she possibly be running to—” Odysseus was cut off, however, when he catches your speeding visage in his periphery. Astonished, everyone close by stands still for a moment to observe your activity. One minute, you were racing one way, and the other minute racing the other way. And then, you stop in front of a tree, where the crew are convinced that you’re finally done with your zooming about — that is until you suddenly materialise an axe and begin chopping at the tree, earning you perfectly chopped logs of wood. Some log piles are differently coloured, clearly coming from a different type of tree, but you were hacking your axe at only one tree.

“Huh?...” Elpenor asks, confused as Perimedes stares at you with a blank look on his face.

Everyone’s jaws collectively drop to the floor. Was a beauty like you always capable of such strong feats of strength? And were the trees here as magical as you?!

“H-how is that possible?” one crew member asks nobody in particular, scratching at his head.

“She’s the fair maiden, it’s best not to question anything,” another man comments loud enough for all surrounding persons to hear and hum in agreement over.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Odysseus chuckles fondly with a shake of his head. Just before you are off zooming again, Odysseus comes up to you and politely asks, “Fair maiden, may we have some of the fruit from the orchard?” smiling, you happily give your consent with a nod, “Thank you,” he bows his head slightly, “do you have a preferred method of how we should go about collecting the fruit?”

You think for a moment before deciding it won’t harm them much to learn how to shake trees. It’ll save you the hassle of getting them the fruits whenever they feel a little peckish. With a nod, you lead the men over the bridge to your orchard and step up to a pear tree with three ripe and incredibly large pears on it. From a distance, the men watch as you move your soft hands to grip the tree’s trunk and begin violentlyshaking it until the three pears drop, unbruised, from their perch. Their only reaction was stunned silence. Again, had you always been this strong?

(From a distance, Odysseus can swear he hears a familiar, brain-tickling giggle.)

“I-I assume you want us to keep away from the crop fields’ produce,” Polites asks, stuttering through his stupefied state.

As expressive as always, you nod, gesturing to the neighbouring crop fields before tapping your chest, as if to say, ‘Yep! That’s mine,’, you then wiggle a finger at them with a teasing shake of your head: ‘Not yours,’ you make an ‘X’ with your arms and then gesture to your hand, ‘Don’t touch,’. Nodding, Polites agrees and spreads the word with instructions on how you want the crewmen to harvest the fruit trees but to keep away from the crop fields.

“I wonder what you’ve been up to while we’ve been exploring Fair Maiden?” Eurylochus asks, curious about your hidden activities. By now, a majority of the crew have fed back to comment on the things they’ve found about the island, talking about its geography, the landscape, its large variety of vegetation from flowers to overgrown weeds, the path of the freshwater, drinkable rivers, the waterfalls, the large lake and lack of natural threats. This was an island paradise, perfectly safe, as is expected from the island you call home. How lucky they were to have met you and to have landed on your island.

Happy he asked as you were just putting the final touches to the outdoor bathing area, you lead Eurylochus, Odysseus, Polites and some of the crew to the established bathing nook you’ve built. What you show them is nothing like their Greek public baths but it was familiar enough to get their hearts racing with excitement. Bathing in warm waters was always a rejuvenating experience, helping many soldiers with aching muscles and low spirits regain their strength and mental wellness. After their battles and journey, everyone was eager to have a long, hot soak.

“This is incredible!” Odysseus laughs in his joy, going up to you and fondly messing up your hair, “Did you really set all this up for us?” There were fresh towels in baskets, a nearby waterfall for a cold plunge and three sizeable hot water pools surrounded by heavy rocks. There was even a table provided for their belongings next to an area with alien contraptions and small bottles. Odysseus could only guess that those bottles held the appropriate soaps they needed for a thorough wash.

Playfully, you nod but huff and cross your arms, gesturing to yourself with a look that says ‘Yes but it’s for me too,’. Your gestures only made Odysseus laugh more, his warm, brown eyes looking fondly at you with a touch of gratitude.

“Of course, of course, for you as well,” Polites laughs as Eurylochus smiles with his arms crossed, “but I wonder how we should go about using this apparatus…” he points to the shower area you set up on one side, next to the small waterfall — hoping that the association with the waterfall would help them learn that the showers functioned the same way.

Happily, you demonstrate how to turn the water on and off, doing your best to tell the men to shower first before soaking in the hot springs. You even go so far as to show them the different dispensers for their different washing needs. Everyone has since grown attentive to observing your movements and expressions so it was easy enough to understand which coloured dispenser did what and the order they should go about using them. It was quite novel in appearance but familiar enough that navigation would easily become second nature. Everyone was excited to finally wash the salt off their skin and feel refreshed again. Once they were clear on how things went, you led them out of the area and see if they were satisfied with the privacy the bamboo trees offered along with the strategically placed bamboo partitions. Firstly and most importantly, however, your instructions on how they should use the baths needed to be met strictly.

“Understood,” Eurylochus voices in his usually strict tone, “I’ll make sure everyone else knows what to do,” gratefully, you nod at him and move to get out of their way but are stopped by Odysseus.

“Now that you’ve shown us, I believe you should be taking the first bath, Fair Maiden,” he nods towards the showers, “you’ve done so much for my men and me thus far, you are the first of us all who deserves a relaxing bath,” you give him a questioning look, asking ‘are you sure?’. “We’re sure, don’t worry,” he smiles at you kindly before a shout cuts through the tender moment.

“I will guard the Fair Maiden while she bathes!” a distant hand is raised within the crowd of men, the shout coming out so sudden and loud that it visibly startles you. Seeing your frightened expression, however, gets Odysseus visibly irate and he readies himself to give that particular crewman the tongue-lashing of his life. But before anything can be said, a conflict has already started.

“No! I will guard the Fair Maiden!”

“I am better with a sword, I can protect her better than you!”

“There’s nothing to protect her from on this island. I am a great conversationalist, I’m sure she would appreciate the talk while she bathes—”

“Don’t be so stupid, who’d want to listen to your stupid voice while bathing?!”

Not long into the argument, a fistfight breaks out, but even before that, Polites has already helped you sneak into the baths, making sure you were settled before heading out, promising that he, the Captain and the second commander would take care of things so that you can relax. With a loud shout and a fierce look, Odysseus has the crew behaving again, feeling no sympathy for those showcasing visible black eyes, bruises and swelling cheeks.

“I expected more of you two,” Odysseus shakes his head at Perimedes, who had a black eye, and Elpenor, who sported two painfully swollen cheeks. Elpenor tried to explain their motivations, but with both of his cheeks swollen, his words were barely decipherable and can be best described as incoherent nonsense.

“We only fought back because someone dragged us into the fight,” Perimedes explained before uttering under his breath, “it’s not like anyone else could take better care of our Fair Maiden…”

“Can you really say that after your antics at the boat earlier?” Polities appreciated that the two, at least, had the decency to look bashful.

“Eurylochus and I will guard the Fair Maiden,” Odysseus announces firmly, leaving no room for argument as Eurylochus stands tall beside him, arms crossed over his chest and making his appendages look all the more muscular — a silent threat to his own men, “Anyone who would like to challenge that is free to prove themselves in a one on one fight with either of us…” obviously, nobody would dare to openly oppose their captain and second commander. “Nobody?… Good, you know your place. Now set up your camps! Polites will supervise you,” Polites nods when Odysseus meets his eyes and happily goes along with his duties, herding the crew away from the bathing area.

Bathing first really was a good idea. It allowed you to test out the functionality of the baths and provided a rare quiet after days spent with the crewmen. It was so relaxing you didn’t think you would ever leave, but alas, you were getting hungry, and if you were hungry, then the crew were hungry too. You’ll look into your storage for tonight, but tomorrow, you will begin gathering more ingredients again for freshly cooked meals. After your bath, you pull out your wand and easily magic yourself into a new outfit. This one was something you prepared beforehand that matched your new cottage core theme. This outfit featured another custom-designed dress you made. This one was also long and was designed based on the 1804 French evening dress, with a ribbon tied just under your breasts and delicate short sleeves to give you a square neckline. It was a beautiful dress that made you feel like a water sprite. It took you ages to design but, looking in the full-length mirror to one side of the baths, you were happy with the results.

Stepping out of the baths, you greet Odysseus and Eurylochus with a smile, both of whom return the greeting kindly.

“You look refreshed,” Eurylochus comments with a curt nod of approval.

“I must say your sense of fashion is very nice, Fair Maiden…” Odysseus’ words make you tilt your head curiously. You wonder where he was going with this, he’s not usually the type to make such comments about your appearance, unlike the other unmarried men of his crew, “Do you suppose you have some similarly styled clothes I can offer to my wife, Penelope?” His words make you beam with excitement, nodding enthusiastically, which makes him grin in return, “You do?! And you’re willing to give them to my wife?” you nod again, “Thank you so much!”

You wave off the King’s gratitude casually as if you were saying that it wouldn’t be a big deal, and it really wasn’t. It was then, however, that you catch Eurylochus’ shy expression. When you turn to him curiously, Odysseus seems to already know what he wants to ask and has the biggest, teasing grin on his face as you patiently wait for the second commander to explain himself.

“W-would you be able to do the same for my wife Ctimene?” excitedly, you nod your head as well, instantly wiping away Eurylochus’ worries and making the large, imposing man, grin widely.

Group by group, Odysseus and his crew all take turns soaking in the baths. The only problem after was the clothes they would have to change into knowing that their current attire wasn’t any good. But you had an easy solution to that. Wanting to give them clothing items that seemed familiar, you offered clean Chitons, thankful that you had access to the catalogue from your Nookphone, which was always helpfully tucked away in your back pocket. Conveniently, there was no waiting time needed here, and your orders appeared before you immediately. You save the differently coloured Togas for Odysseus, Polites and Eurylochus to help differentiate them from the rest of the crew members. Odysseus was wearing his signature purple sash, whilst Polites and Eurylochus wore red sashes. Thankfully, you were right to assign the clothing like this, and everyone was thankful for the relaxing bath, clean clothing and the delicious meal you had prepared afterwards: a delicious novel dish (to them) of Fish and Chips. There were satisfied hums and complimentary remarks made all throughout dinner, with everyone taking the chance to look towards you in appreciation at some point in the evening.

“Polites and my crew have informed me of a house on the northeast side of the island,” Odysseus casually brings up as you eat your portion of fish and chips beside him. “Would that happen to be your home?” having perked up at his words, you nod. So your house was still standing… you wonder why your villagers’ houses aren’t, nor the other buildings on the island. “Polites made sure nobody broke in unnecessarily. Tonight, I’m sure you would appreciate sleeping in your home. My men and I have made our camps about the island already, so don’t worry about us,”

You smile at his thoughtfulness and bow your head gratefully, “None of that now,” Odysseus hurries to lift your head, “at this point, we all stand on level ground. You’ve done more for me and my crew than I think you’re aware of,” growing flustered under his high praise, you look away with a bashful smile. Truly, it wasn’t hard for you to do the things you’ve done, you loved playing animal crossing and it’s a joy to experience it in real life, especially when you get to offer the help your favourite characters need at just the right time. It would feel wrong if you didn’t offer your help knowing you had the power to.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next morning, you spend your time making fishing poles for everyone so that they can fish for their own meals and help you speed up the cooking. They were all more than happy to help you, and eager to learn from you as well. Elpenor especially; he doesn’t seem to have any technique working in his favour. Perimedes, on the other hand, has already caught his dinner and handed it over to you, but, as a faithful friend, he had vowed to stand beside Elpenor until the hopeless fool finally catches a fish himself. Sometimes, the taller blonde was tempted to pull the fishing pole from Elpenor’s useless hands, impatient in his helpfulness, but wanted his friend to feel the achievement of catching the fish himself first.

“Are you going to fish with us?” Eurylochus asks, turning away from the ocean to look at you curiously. Several other men were set up close by, also waiting for fish to take the bait. Nodding enthusiastically, you look forward with determination as the crew members look on curiously from where they’re stationed. Odysseus and Polites had already caught their fish, and you had helpfully stored away their catches for them. The two stand by, simply observing and eying your flowing dress curiously. You seem to have a habit of doing chores in the most unexpected attire. They suppose it’s because you are that exceptional — no item of clothing will hold you back from the things you want to do, even if they are long flowing, beautiful dresses.

“If the Fair Maiden catches a fish before you,” Perimedes begins, playfully jabbing his friend’s side with a sharp elbow, “I would begin to question your masculine prowess, dear friend,”

“The Fair Maiden catching a fish before me doesn’t bring my masculinity into question, Perimedes,” Elpenor huffs with a slight redness in his cheeks, “It only attests to the Fair Maiden’s greatness,”

“I suppose you’re right,” Perimedes shrugs, and they both watch you from their periphery, as is the habit of every crew member whenever they see you nearby. They just can’t help themselves; you draw their eye easily, and they are weak to beauties like you. Beauties with the kindest heart known to man. They yearn to bring you close but are well aware of their self-deficiencies — no man alive is worthy of someone as fair and wondrous as you. Not even the king himself.

Not long after you’ve cast your fishing pole you get a tug and everyone watches with baited breath as you fight with the fish at the end of your line. Everyone silently cheers you on until their jaws slacken at the monstrous creature you pull out of the water and proudly present to them, carrying it as if it weighs no heavier than a leaf.

A whale shark! This will earn you good money when you sell it to Tommy and Timmy.

“Wh-what sort of ocean creature is that?” Polites asks in disbelief, adjusting his glasses as Odysseus laughs from beside him, clutching his stomach as tears of laughter fill his eyes. The kind had long since abandoned all need to find an explanation for your ‘odd’ behaviour, he’s learned to shrug it off and, instead, find joy in the astonished, jaw-dropped, eye-bulging expressions of his crew members. Never before has he laughed so much, and he has you to thank for it. Odysseus wasn't finished laughing, however, as another wave of surprise exclamations, shock and disbelief flooded his crew when you casually stored away the gigantic creature in your back pocket.

(From a distance, Odysseus hears another familiar giggle overlapping with his own laughter.)

“H-HOW?!” Perimedes shouts with his hands clutching at his head in disbelief, his eyes wide as his brows have flown to his hairline. However, everyone knows that his question will never be answered as you flash him an innocent smile. You can’t speak; they just have to accept things as they come from you.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Savouring the stable ground and the grand scenery of your island paradise, the crew members observe you zipping around the land as if you have all the energy to spare, hitting rocks over and over to draw out raw materials unlike they’ve ever seen anyone else do. It’s as if Mother Nature herself wanted to provide you with everything you need; she was at your beck and call, and it was astonishing to witness. You even manage to draw out solid gold chunks from ordinary rocks, making the crew’s eyes bulge before they furiously rub at them in disbelief. Of course, they don’t confront you about it; it would be extremely rude to do so. They also don’t want their Captain and commanders breathing down their necks about any disorderly behaviour towards you. It’s clear to everyone that you are someone they care very deeply about, and all three have grown especially protective of you, so not only are you the most ethereal being to exist, but you’re also the most protected and secure.

It was a little scary now that they think about it…

Some of the men have come very close to openly protesting against you, however, especially when several have seen you burying sacks of gold after digging up a glowing area of land a fellow crew member had pointed you towards. Those who witnessed your strange behaviour were very vocal in encouraging you to dig the sack of money back up, but you were adamant about refusing, no matter their sound reasoning. All those men quickly shut up under their Captain’s sharp eyes, their second commander’s growling but firm command to stop, and their third commander’s scary, silent smile. Several days go by, and the crewmen realise that they hadn’t just seen you bury gold coins uselessly but they’ve actually witnessed you plant and grow a money tree.

As you’ve done many times before, once the tree has grown to its full size, you go up to the trunk and violently shake it to make the three large sacks of money fall from its branches. Before anyone could utter a word, however, you’ve already collected the money and zipped away without a single penny left behind. You were like a greedy little chipmunk, who had looted all the nuts and hurriedly sprinted away without an ounce of remorse at the fact that you left nothing for the others. All the could do was watch with sagging shoulders and depressed expressions as you ran into the sunset, happy with your bountiful haul.

Sadly, that money tree doesn’t sprout sacks of money again…

(Distantly, you hear laughter that tickles your brain just right, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.)

The crew also silently observe as you passionately shake trees every day for sticks and fruit as well as random items ranging from small, miscellaneous trinkets that don’t typically belong on trees to fully built furniture. They’ve all experienced small heart attacks every time, worried for your wellbeing when they see a large piece of furniture emerge from the branches and soundly drop. Thankfully, all items conveniently drop a safe distance away from you. But that’s because you’re the Fair Maiden. They don’t believe they have the same luck as you and it’s deterred a majority of them from shaking trees unless they know what would be dropping down, limiting them to shaking only the fruit trees in your orchard.

There was a time when you had shaken a tree, and a bee hive fell, sending everyone into an immediate panic as the angry bees rose in anger. Without thinking, Elpenor jumps in the way just as you’ve raised your net, taking the horrible storm of bee stings for you. You fall to the ground with him, holding him close as your apology is clearly expressed in your features, your brows furrowed and tears in your eyes. You want to call him an idiot so badly, didn’t he see your net?!

…What a loveable fool he was…

You see that he wants to smile in assurance from where you hold him in your arms but the bee stings make it close to impossible. His lips and eyes are swollen, his cheeks too and his arm and neck! Goodness, everywhere you look there are bee stings! This is much worse than in the game! Frantic, you lay his head on your lap as Perimedes falls to the ground beside you and takes his best friend’s hand in his own.

“How idiotic can you get Elpenor?!” Despite his words, you can tell the blonde is far from annoyed. Rather, he is more worried for his friend than anything else.

“The fair maiden was in danger…” Elpenor answers simply, his voice strained but you both shake your heads at him, silently asking that he don’t overtax himself.

Flicking through your storage, you bring out the bag of medicine you always prepare for emergencies. Usually, you would simply press the ‘take medicine’ option, however, now that this was real life, you were having to reach inside the bag. When you do, you bring out a simple balm, but the case is empty of any instructions or labels. Everyone watches closely as you take some of the balm onto your fingers and spread the ointment over their youngest crew member’s visible stings. All those who are watching, visibly awe at the immediate effects your medicine has on Elpenor. The balm barely stays on for a second to sink in before Elpenor’s injuries completely disappear, his skin no longer swollen, the concerning redness of his stings gone, and his boyish smile has returned.

“What is this…?” Perimedes asks, eyeing the medicine in disbelief but it had also disappeared along with Elpenor’s injuries. “I can’t believe it…”

“Fair maiden,” Elpenor turns to you with a bright smile, ready to express his gratitude and astonishment but is cut off when you jump into his arms, hoping your tight hug will convey the amount of gratitude you had in your heart for him. He was so brave but what a fool! You hope he never jumps in front of danger like that again!

“It’s okay,” you feel Elpenor gently brush his hand along your back, “I wouldn’t mind taking all the bee stings for you. Especially knowing that you can cure me instantly,” his happy smile can be heard in his words as you bury your face into his broad shoulder.

“You’re an idiot…” Perimedes laughs as you meet his fond gaze from over Elpenor’s shoulder. You give his much taller friend a look to convey your thoughts somehow and Perimedes nods, “The Fair Maiden doesn’t want you to do that again, so promise her right now or else you will incur her wrath!”

Elpenor laughs bashfully, “I-If that is what the fair maiden wishes,“ he reaches for your hands and kisses your knuckles to seal his promise.

Those who stood by watching gaze at you in unfiltered amazement. Never before had they seen medicine heal at the rate and effectiveness you have just demonstrated. Every day, they realise just how otherworldly of a person you are. Are you even a person? Maybe they were closer to figuring out your true origins when comparing you to the Gods and Goddesses, after all.

“None of you are allowed to speak of this to anyone outside of those here, got it?” Odysseus utters, appearing to materialise out of the crowd observing the scene. His sudden appearance startles everyone, but they silently agree with him the instant his words process in their minds. A dark look had overtaken their captain, and it wasn’t one they were fond of. Nobody asked questions, nobody harassed you, nobody stood out of place awkwardly. They know that acting out would only endanger you, making you a target of the gods, much like the way their captain had been targeted in the potential future they were forced to witness through song. There was a silent agreement among them that they weren’t letting anything like that happen again. Not if they could help it. And that means keeping quiet.

Seeing the amount of things you were doing daily on the island, however, had the crewmen itching to be productive. You understand they want to prove themselves helpful so after you collect the crops, you hand them watering cans to water the crop fields for you, you even teach them to make ingredients such as flour and sugar from the permanent outdoor cooking area you’ve set up. You’ve also helped them use your workbench to create tables and chairs to set up around your cooking area so that food can be eaten more comfortably. Everyone has gotten into the habit of catching their own fish and rationing the fruit so that everyone gets a piece. After only a short time, a functioning routine had been built amongst you, all centred around the chores you would typically do each day about the island but now, you had more people helping you, meaning that you could concentrate on stocking up supplies, cooking good meals for them and creating fun memories of all the wonderful people on Odysseus’ crew.

Everyone was just doing their part to contribute and make your task of taking care of them that much easier. This was your island, after all; it was the least they could do. If only you weren’t constantly stunning them with your strange antics. At least not any ordinary day goes by.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

After a week or so spent on the island, you were on the right track to filling up your storage with the right amount of food and ingredients, and everyone had gotten into a good routine. Hermes, however, was just itching to make an introduction. The mischievous god had been observing you for a while. Ever since the rumours began amongst the crew, his curiosity had been piqued, and Athena’s subtle ways of dismissing the gossip only worked at making him all the more curious about you. The messenger god was glad he took the time to investigate you himself; never before had he laughed so much and been so entertained. Despite never having interacted with you, he’s grown a fondness for you already, he delights in your innocent but outrageous displays, leaving the 600 men in your wake with bulging eyes, slack jaws and racing minds that still come slow to comprehend what they were just witnesses to.

He’s waited long enough, and quite patiently, he’d like to add. It was about time he finally revealed himself to you. And what better time to do so than while the sun sets and you had just said your farewells with the crew for the night, starting your way back home alone? He can’t miss this opportunity.

“My my, what a beauty~” he coos, doing his best to suppress a giggle at the stunned look on your face when he suddenly floats down from his high perch. “I say, is your name really ‘Fair Maiden’?” seeing the recognition on your face, Hermes flings his luscious, brunette locks over his shoulder with a coy smile, “I see you’ve heard of me~ yes, it is I, Hermes, the God of merchants, thieves, travellers,” his eyes glow a pure white beneath the shadow of his hat, staring at you for one knowing, uncomfortable moment as a large grin occupies the unshadowed part of his face. “And these dashing good looks of mine, of course~” he ends on a cheeky note, winking deviously as you try to muster a smile despite the chill lingering in your spine from his earlier expression. Does he know?

“Of course, I know~” he looks at his nails with admiration, “I was one of the few gods who knew of you the instant you came here,” Hermes flies down, his feet up in the air as he lowers his face to level, leaving only an embarrassing inch of distance between you, “You’re quite the hot topic you know. Athena has her hands full, keeping talks of you to a minimum up in Olympus. I suppose you two have some sort of deal going on between you…” Hermes carefully inspects you as you avoid his eyes. How adorable you are~ So cute!

It’s not like that…

“Oh? Explain it to me then, pet~” he coos with fondness, reaching up to play with your hair innocently as you try not to get too bashful. Not only was he an intimidating presence, but he had a very handsome face. You can see where Odysseus got his admirable features from. It was in Hermes’ handsome-framing hair, his golden, sun-kissed skin, his charming but disarming eyes, and his pretty lips meant for more than just pleasant words… “Don’t leave me waiting now~ Beauty and sweetness can only get you so far when it comes to wasting the time of a god~” he giggles, leaving his remark suspiciously suspended between humour and a serious threat.

I- uh…

“Just kidding!” he giggles into your temple, nuzzling your head affectionately and displaying something similar to cuteness-aggression, “I know you’re only captivated by my gorgeous face, so feel free to take all the time you need in answering me darling~” Hermes wraps his arms around your neck, using you as his anchor to the ground. He continues nuzzling his face into your temple as he kicks his legs in the air like a teenage girl reading her favourite ‘x reader’ fanfiction in bed. Hurriedly stepping away from his dizzying nearness, you take a moment to gather your thoughts, avoiding his teasing grin as you catch your breath.

Athena and I only share a similar goal. We find that it’s best to work together to achieve it. There isn’t a single bargaining chip put down from either side. You explain in your head as the god nods along, seeming to hear your thoughts telepathically. You suppose all gods have a way of communicating with you.

“I see~ That’s good! That’s very good actually,” he flies forward, his face inches from your own once again, eager to keep the close proximity as you slowly back yourself into a nearby tree. “That means you don’t have Athena’s blessing,”

N-no, I don’t…

“Fabulous!” Hermes throws his arms up, finally drawing back and striking a celebratory starfish pose whilst suspended mid-air. However, just as quickly as he celebrates, he just as quickly moves closer to you once again, his face so impossibly close that you’re falling into the glow of his eyes and feel the brush of his lips against your own as he speaks, “then I will be giving you my blessing, darling. A great honour, I know~” he suppresses a giggle and affectionately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing his palm against the tree trunk beside your head, effectively pinning you in place, “No need to thank me, pet~ But we do need to seal the deal, somehow,” he talks at such lightening speed that you barely have the time to register his words before he’s capturing your lips in his own, his large hands softly holding your face in place and drawing out the kiss for as long as he wishes. You don’t know whether to push him away or deepen the kiss further.

Wh-why—…?

“All great travellers are mine to take care of,” he explains in a firm whisper, pulling away as he licks his lips and coos at the stunned, flushed expression on your pretty face, “Call me whenever you need, darling! Take care now~” Hermes begins to float up and slowly disappears into the night sky, revealing from behind him another one of your storage sheds.

Hermes had left your brain in shambles and your heart in a dangerous race with itself. You don’t know how long you stayed slumped against the tree that mischievous god had just claimed your lips against but the sunset had long since passed.

After calming your racing heart, you step up to the shed and curiously look inside. It looked like any other one of your storage sheds but the black void within was more ominous looking… was this Hermes’ doing? Or was it just because it was nighttime and dark outside?

A sudden nudge in your back makes you fall into the black void with a yelp, and you fall for a moment before dropping forward onto a hard, cold, wooden floor. Looking around, you take in your surroundings and recognise the layout immediately. You’re on Odysseus’ ship, on the top deck, and in front of your open storage shed. This one was the first you had fallen out of and into this world, which you had kept on board, knowing that you just had to look for your home to access your full storage again. And you had plenty more storage sheds to spare, there was no need to do all that moving about.

Did you just…?

Rushing to the shed, you hold your breath and throw yourself forward before you have the chance to second-guess your actions. The same blackness consumes you as a rush makes your head spin but, this time, you fall onto soft grass — you’re back at that other storage shed now. Gasping silently, you admire the grass beneath your hands as your heart begins to race at the incredible gift Hermes had bestowed upon you.

“What’s the latest, Sulky?” a cute voice enters your ears, making you shoot your head up and gasp at the sight of your villagers. They were not the anthropomorphic cute avatars from Animal Crossing that you were familiar with, but stood before you as normal animals— only, they’ve managed to retain their unusual colouring and patterns.

“Marshal?...”

navi. | series m.list |

next | four. the washed-up stranger →

next | small imagine : you didn't have to kiss her hermes →

a/n : phew~ I hope everyone had a fun read! I loved writing Hermes hehe~ and if anyone's curious, I imagine his design from Zieru's 'Dangerous' animatic on YouTube. Also the villagers will be appearing in the next chapter but I don't know whether to base it off my villagers or take some favourite villagers suggestions... either way we're definitely having Marshal as a villager!

For those of you who are curious about who my villagers are, here's the list for you: Fauna ; Shino ; Poppy ; Filbert ; Marshal ; Chrissy ; Fang ; Boots ; Gaston ; Mitzi

taglist : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @celestialzdiviner (almost forgot the taglist phew~)

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tteotlma · 7 months ago

Text

Whiskey and Wishful Thinking

-- unrequited love and misplaced desires

Logan/Wolverine x Reader 6.2kw(😵‍💫)

a/n: this idea has been in my head for a while now and i didn’t really edit —

TW: 18+ MDNI AFAB!Reader, alcohol abuse/intoxication, sexual content (explicit), Emotional manipulation, unrequited love, mild violence (Logan crashing into things), infidelity (emotional), sexual encounter under the influence, emotional distress/angst, mild language, p in v

—

The quiet whirring of the air conditioner filled the cavernous space of the library, its cool breeze a stark contrast to the sweltering August heat outside. You circled the poster board laid out on the worn wooden table in front of you, your fingertips ghosting over the glossy photos and carefully cut-out newspaper clippings. Your chin rested on your hand as you examined the display closely, brow furrowed in concentration.

The new semester at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was starting in a week, and you were determined to be prepared. This wasn't just about having a visually engaging classroom; it was about proving yourself. Your second year as a teacher here was right around the corner, and you still had people to impress—or maybe overshadow. The pressure to live up to the legacy of the school's illustrious faculty weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You were in the middle of rearranging a faded photo of Richard Nixon next to a more vibrant one of Mystique—a stark visual representation of the complex history you were trying to convey—when something caught your eye. A small tear in the corner of the Mystique photo made you frown. It was barely noticeable, but you knew it was there. Much like the small imperfections in your own mutation that you tried so hard to hide.

As you reached for the tape to add more photos, a thunderous crash erupted from the direction of the front door, reverberating off the mahogany bookshelves and causing the chandeliers to tinkle ominously. You startled, your elbow catching the edge of the poster board and sending a cascade of photos fluttering to the floor like autumn leaves.

"Dammit," you muttered under your breath, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered images. Each one represented hours of research and careful curation. There was Erik Lehnsherr in his prime, Charles Xavier before the wheelchair, headlines about the Mutant Registration Act—pieces of a puzzle you were trying to fit together for your students.

As you collected the last of the photos, another crash followed, accompanied by a string of muffled colorful curses that could only belong to one person: Logan.

You rose to your feet, brushing dust from your knees and straightening your top. A part of you wanted to ignore the disturbance and return to your work. After all, you weren't one of the X-Men, just a history teacher trying to make a difference in your own small way. But another part, the part that had brought you to this school in the first place, urged you to investigate.

With a last, longing look at your unfinished project, you began to walk down the corridor, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The warm wood paneling and lush carpets couldn't quite muffle Logan's gruff voice, slurred and aggravated.

"Who the hell locked the damn door?" he growled loud enough to be heard through the mahogany, followed by another thud that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting solid wood.

You rounded the corner just in time to hear Logan slam against the door again. Sighing, you approached, your hand hovering over the ornate brass doorknob.

"Logan?" you called out, trying to keep your voice steady. "The door's always locked after midnight. You know that."

There was a moment of silence, then a muffled grunt. "Oh. Right." You heard him fumbling on the other side, likely searching for keys he didn't have. "Must've... must've forgot."

You leaned closer to the door, lowering your voice. "Did you lose your keys again?"

"Didn't lose 'em," Logan grumbled, his words slurring together. "Just... misplaced 'em. Temporarily."

Rolling your eyes, you turned the lock. "I'm letting you in. But please, try to keep it down. Some of us are trying to work."

As you swung the heavy door open, the full impact of Logan's state hit you like a wave. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe, more disheveled than you'd ever seen him.

His usually wild hair was a mess, matted in places as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. His leather jacket was askew, one sleeve pushed up to the elbow while the other hung loosely at his wrist. The strong scent of whiskey wafted from him, mixed with something earthier – had he been in the woods?

His eyes, usually sharp and alert, were unfocused as they landed on you. For a moment, they seemed to look through you rather than at you.

"Work?" he scoffed, stumbling slightly as he entered. "It's summer, kid. Live a little."

The irony of his statement, given his current condition, wasn't lost on you. But as he brushed past, the scent of alcohol growing stronger, you couldn't help but wonder what had driven him to drink so heavily tonight. Logan had his demons, sure, but this seemed excessive even for him.

"Logan," you said softly, reaching out to steady him as he swayed. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He paused, turning to look at you. For a brief moment, his tough exterior seemed to crack, revealing a glimpse of raw pain underneath. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I'm fine," Logan grunted, his voice rough as gravel. He shrugged off your hand with a forceful jerk that nearly threw him off balance. "Just need to sleep it off."

As he stumbled towards the stairs, you stood frozen in the foyer, a war of emotions raging within you. Frustration at the interruption of your work battled with genuine concern for your colleague. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, each thud against the hardwood punctuated by a slight scuff - clear signs of his unsteady gait.

BAM

The sound reverberated through your chest, jolting you into action. "Oh my- Logan!" The twisting knot in your stomach unraveled, replaced by a surge of adrenaline as you found yourself on your knees beside the fallen giant. The polished wood floor was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Logan's body.

"Are you okay?!" Your voice came out higher than intended, tinged with worry. You gently turned his body, your hands careful but insistent. Logan's face came into view, his rugged features slack, eyes roving aimlessly. They passed over your face without a flicker of recognition, unfocused and glassy.

"Clearly not," you muttered, answering your own question. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, worry and frustration mingling in equal measure. You patted his stubbled cheek, the coarse hair rough against your fingers. The familiar texture grounded you, a tactile reminder of the man beneath this drunken exterior.

"Come on, you big lug." Your fingers curled around his jacket collar, the worn leather an old friend under your grip. You could smell the years of use on it – a mixture of tobacco, whiskey, and that indescribable scent that was purely Logan. You tugged, your muscles straining against his dead weight. It was like trying to move a mountain, and you felt a bead of sweat trickle down your back with the effort. "I can't get you up those stairs, but we can try to find something else."

Logan stirred under your hands, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest. You could feel the vibration of it through your palms, like the purr of some great, dangerous cat. Keeping a steadying hand on his arm, you helped as he struggled to his feet. His muscles were taut under your touch, coiled with a strength that, even in his inebriated state, was intimidating.

The scent of whiskey hung heavy in the air around you both, an almost visible miasma. It mingled with the earthy smell of his leather jacket and something so distinctly Logan – a heady mix of cigar smoke and pine that usually brought a sense of comfort and safety. Now, it just emphasized the bitter truth that in trying to distance himself from his pain, Logan had simultaneously distanced himself from the man you once knew.

He was mumbling, disconnected words tumbling from his lips like scattered puzzle pieces. You caught fragments – "Jean" and "Summers" among them – each name landing like a small stone in the pit of your stomach. But you weren't really trying to piece it together, not now. Your mind was already racing ahead, calculating the logistics of moving him, wondering if you could manage to get him to the nearby study with its comfortable couch. And, if you were being honest with yourself, a small part of you was wondering how soon you could get him out of your sight and return to the normalcy of your work.

You watched, as if in slow motion, as Logan threw a heavy arm around you. The sudden shift in weight knocked you off balance, causing your body to shove even closer to Logan's as you struggled to support his swaying form.

You closed your eyes, trying to distract itself with thoughts of your discarded project in the library. You tried to reimagine your pre-arranged photos and timelines, hearing them calling to you like a siren song of productivity and purpose. But it was hard to focus on that, not with the heat radiating off of Logan's body making your skin feel like it was sizzling, every point of contact between you a livewire of sensation.

You could feel every hard plane of his body pressed against you, the heat of him searing through your clothes. The closeness was both thrilling and terrifying, and you quickly shook your head, pushing the confusing thoughts away. Right now, Logan needed a friend, whether he (or you) realized it or not.

"Alright, big guy," you said, your voice sounding strained even to your own ears as you adjusted your grip on his arm. Your fingers dug into the solid muscle there, seeking purchase. "Let's get you somewhere you can lay down before you fall again and cause some damage." You began to guide him, every step a careful negotiation between his unsteady feet and your determined support. It was like trying to direct a landslide – Logan's bulk and uncoordinated movements making each step a precarious balancing act.

"I-I'm fine," he slurred, his words thick and syrupy. His head bobbed with each trudging step, reminding you of those drinking bird toys. "Jus' needed a break." The words were punctuated by a hiccup that shook his whole frame, and by extension, yours.

"A break from what?" You grunted, the words coming out breathless as you strained to keep him walking in something resembling a straight line. The carpet runner in the hallway bunched under your feet with each step, creating small obstacles you had to navigate around. "It's the last week of summer."

The reminder seemed to hit Logan like a physical blow. He let out a loud groan, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours where you were pressed against him. Suddenly, his body went limp, all semblance of cooperation vanishing in an instant. He stumbled again, but this time, anchored to you as he was, he dragged you with him.

"No, no Logan," you gasped, your muscles screaming as you struggled to keep both of you upright. Your feet scrambled for purchase on the polished wood floor, sliding dangerously. For a heart-stopping moment, you thought you were both going down, but somehow – through sheer determination or dumb luck – you managed to keep moving.

With a final, herculean effort, you maneuvered Logan's bulk towards the library. The giant sofa loomed before you like an oasis in a desert, promising relief from your burden. And of course, because the universe seemed to have a twisted sense of humor tonight, it was right next to your craft table. The carefully arranged materials – your planned escape from this chaos – now stood as silent witnesses to your struggle.

As you finally deposited Logan onto the couch, the leather creaking under his weight, you couldn't help but wonder how this night had spiraled so far from your quiet plans. The Logan-shaped imprint of heat on your body slowly began to fade, leaving you feeling oddly bereft despite your earlier desire to be free of him. You stood there, catching your breath, watching the rise and fall of Logan's chest as he settled into the couch, already half-asleep.

As you finally deposited Logan onto the couch, the aged leather creaked in protest under his substantial weight. You couldn't help but marvel at how drastically this night had veered from your meticulously laid plans. The Logan-shaped imprint of heat on your body slowly began to fade, leaving behind a peculiar sense of absence. It was a feeling that caught you off guard, considering your earlier desperation to be free of his burdensome presence.

For a moment, you stood there, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Your eyes traced the rise and fall of Logan's broad chest as he settled into the couch, his features already softening with the onset of sleep. The furrows in his brow, usually so pronounced, began to smooth out, giving him an almost peaceful appearance that seemed at odds with the tumultuous events of the night.

Shaking your head, you turned back to your project, eager to lose yourself in the familiar comfort of organization and creativity. Each piece fell into place with a satisfying click, the world narrowing down to the careful arrangement of photos and timelines. Time seemed to slip away as you worked, the rhythmic sound of Logan's breathing fading into white noise.

Despite the rhythmic process you had created, your mind managed to stray to the man beside you. Logan's presence, even in his unconscious state, was impossible to ignore. Your eyes drifted from your work to his sleeping form, tracing the rugged lines of his face that you'd memorized long ago.

A familiar ache bloomed in your chest, a bittersweet mixture of longing and resignation. How many days and nights had you spent like this, stealing glances at Logan when he wasn't aware, allowing yourself to imagine a reality where his eyes would light up at the sight of you? But that was a fantasy, and you knew it.

Your fingers absently toyed with a photo of Jean Grey that had fallen from your timeline. Even in this candid shot, her beauty was undeniable. Logan's voice, slurred with alcohol, echoed in your mind: "Jean." Of course, it always came back to Jean.

You couldn't blame him, not really. Jean was everything - brilliant, powerful, compassionate. And you? You were just... you. The history teacher who helped patch him up after missions, who listened to his rare moments of vulnerability, who silently loved him from afar.

A soft murmur from the couch drew your attention. Logan's face had contorted, his lips moving soundlessly. Was he dreaming of her even now? The thought sent a pang through your heart.

"She's with Scott, Logan." You shook your head.

The words tasted bitter on your tongue. Because that was the cruel irony, wasn't it? Jean was utterly devoted to Scott Summers. Her love for him was as clear as day to everyone - everyone except Logan. He clung to hope like a drowning man to driftwood, blind to the fact that Jean's heart belonged to another. Just as he was blind to your feelings for him.

You turned back to your work, trying to lose yourself once more in the familiar task. But your eyes kept drifting to the leather jacket draped over a nearby chair - Logan's jacket. How many times had you imagined him placing it around your shoulders on a cold night? How many times had you dreamed of being the one he looked at with that intensity, that raw need?

But those were just dreams. Reality was this: Logan, passed out on the couch beside you, murmuring another woman's name in his sleep. A woman who would never return his feelings. And you, silently loving a man who would never see you as anything more than a friend.

The spell was abruptly broken by a loud, guttural grunt from the couch. Startled, you whirled around, your heart leaping into your throat. Logan's peaceful demeanor had vanished, replaced by a mask of distress. His forehead was creased, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling as if grasping for something just out of reach.

The realization hit you like a splash of cold water: he was having a nightmare.

Pushing your chair into the table with a soft scrape, you rose to your feet. Your movements were slow, deliberate, as you approached Logan. Years of living in a school full of mutants with varying degrees of control had taught you the value of caution, especially when dealing with someone as potentially dangerous as Logan in a vulnerable state.

You positioned yourself at the head of the couch, carefully staying out of range of his arms - and more importantly, his claws. Your eyes flicked nervously to his hands, half-expecting to see the glint of adamantium at any moment. Swallowing hard, you steeled yourself and reached out, your hand hovering uncertain over his forehead.

For a heartbeat, you hesitated. The man before you was a far cry from the intimidating, gruff Logan you knew. In sleep, trapped in the throes of a nightmare, he looked almost... vulnerable. It was a side of him you'd never seen, never even imagined existed.

Taking a deep breath, you gently placed your fingertips on his temple. The skin there was hot to the touch, almost feverish. You could feel the rapid pulse of his temporal artery beneath your fingers, a testament to the intensity of whatever visions were plaguing him.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the quiet of the library. "It's okay. You're safe." He let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb through his unruly hair, something you had never dared to do before. His usual gruffness is stripped away, and what remains is raw, untethered vulnerability—both his and yours.

His breath is uneven as he shifts under your touch, but your movements remain steady, soothing him. The weight of unspoken feelings that have built up over the years presses down on you. The sight of Logan up close so troubled and lost pulls at your heartstrings in a way you can’t ignore anymore.

"Logan," you whisper again, this time more firmly, urging him back to reality. His eyes flutter open, hazy and disoriented. For a moment, they lock onto yours. There's no Jean, no Scott, no X-Men—just the two of you in this quiet, dimly lit room, the air thick with unspoken tension.

His hand moves up to catch yours as it rests on his hair, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the strength behind it. "Why... why are you here?" he mumbles, voice still hoarse and thick with sleep, but there’s something else beneath the surface.

"I'm here because you needed me," you reply softly, the words feeling far too loaded but still true. The tension in his grip tightens, and for a split second, you wonder if you're imagining the way his eyes darken, the hint of desperation and something else swirling within them.

"Don't you have someone else to take care of? I'm not worth the trouble..." His words are a mixture of bitterness and regret, and it cuts deep. You shake your head slowly, heart pounding in your chest.

"You are worth it, Logan," you whisper, barely able to believe the words have left your mouth. Maybe it’s the weight of the years you’ve spent suppressing your feelings, or the heavy air filled with alcohol and desperation, but something shifts between you two in that moment.

Without thinking, Logan sits up, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer to sit beside him, bodies pressed together. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, your body leaning against his, faces only inches apart. His breath is warm and carries the sharp, smoky scent of whiskey, but beneath it lingers something else—something raw, unspoken, and heavy between you. The proximity feels electric, the tension between you simmering just beneath the surface.

For a split second, neither of you moves. You can feel the thrum of Logan’s pulse where his chest presses against yours, and his eyes, dark and stormy, search your face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe an answer to a question neither of you has dared to ask aloud. The weight of unrequited love hangs between you, an invisible thread that pulls you closer even as you hesitate. You've both been running from this, denying it, but now it feels inevitable.

Logan's hand lingers on your arm, his rough fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. His jaw clenches, and you can see the battle raging inside him, the unspoken words on his lips threatening to spill out. "I—" he starts, his voice rough and hesitant, like he's about to confess something too heavy to bear, but you don’t let him finish. You can't, not when you're both teetering on this razor's edge.

You lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative press. For a heartbeat, Logan freezes, his body going rigid with surprise, but then something in him snaps. His right hand snakes down your left side pulling you even closer, as his other hand cups the back of your neck, and he pulls you deeper into the kiss, his lips urgent, almost desperate. It's not gentle—it’s raw, filled with the intensity of everything he's never said. The kiss is a release of all the years spent pining for someone else, all the nights spent wishing for what he could never have.

You know this isn’t love, not the kind either of you have been hoping for. It’s about filling the hollow space left by the people who’ll never look at you the way you want them to. You’re both seeking something that’s just out of reach, using each other to drown out the ache of unrequited love that’s settled deep in your bones. Jean's name might as well be carved into the air between you, but tonight, that pain is dulled, replaced by the heat and urgency of the moment.

His grip on you tightens as the kiss deepens, a silent understanding passing between you. This isn’t about forever. It’s about right now—two people grasping for something real, even if it’s fleeting, even if it doesn’t fill the spaces you need it to. You know that come morning, things will be different, but for now, you both allow yourselves this escape.

Logan’s tongue licks tentatively at your lips, you give him the permission he’s silently seeking as your lips part. You feel lightheaded as his tongue slides into your mouth, and your groin feels hot as Logan lets out the filthiest groan into your mouth.

You let out a soft whine as you grab at his shirt, his muscles hot and firm under the fabric. As Logan continues to indulge in the taste of you, fingers trail down the front of his shirt all the way to and under the hem. Your fingers lightly drag across the thin sliver of skin and you feel Logan’s hip twitch, and he pulls away sighing lightly into your mouth.

He adorned the sexiest look on his smug face. Granted he still looked inebriated but this time instead of being drunk on whiskey.. he was drunk on you. Mother of all that is good and well, you know you should say something, be reasonable, smart, but dammit if there’s one thing you will stick by it’s that you will always help a friend in need…

You bring him close, hands clasping behind his neck and pulling him in as you swing your leg over his lap straddling him. His hands immediately meet the small of your back, and he leans in to kiss you again pulling you flush to his chest.

Now its your turn to take control in the kiss, Logan pliant as you lap at his mouth. He lets you think your in charge until he takes you by surprise and uses one hand to grab the hair at the back of your head. You lose your rhythm for a second and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue along yours, saliva pooling in your mouths and melting in the middle. He begins to suck on the slick pink muscle and you give in.

Whatever ounce of worry, hesitation, anxiety, any reservation whatsoever you could have had left your body and you gave in to desire. That bitch, that deliciously sinful demon had got her way as the muscles in your legs gave in and you relax onto Logans lap. He continues to slurp at your mouth, and you mewl. Never in your life had anyone done this to you before. Not only was it filthy, it was incredibly hot.

The heat in your groin burned your insides leaving you with an ache you needed to relieve. Your hips buck reflexively as you feel a wetness pool on the fabric of your underwear. You let a moan slip out of your mouth, and Logan let out a deep and throaty chuckle. His fingers go back beneath the waistline of your pants, fingers gripping the flesh of your hips and grinding you down against his pelvis.

You threw your head into the crook of Logan’s neck as he began to buck his hips into yours at a steady rhythm. His fingers digging harder into your skin, as he applied more pressure. You could feel the thin fabrics of your underwear and sleep shorts soak the more you rubbed against Logan. You began to gyrate your hips in tighter circles.

“Ah, fuck.” You breathed out as you pressed your forehead to the brute of a man beneath you. “Logan, Logan, come on, stop teasing.” You panted between breaths. Logan shifted a bit beneath you causing your neglected clit to get caught during your motions. Your head lolled to the side and then back as a whimper turned into a full cry of frustration. God, you wanted this pain, this ache you were feeling to go away and you’d do anything to make it stop.

Logan’s grip tightened on your hips, as he stilled your body for a second.

“What the fuck,” You hissed, trying to slide your wet heat on Logans definite show-er and grower but the man loved to tease. Logan continued to hold your hips and you began to grow frustrated. The feeling of his smirk against your neck causing tears to come to your eyes.

“Logan, please.” You whimpered, your voice shaking. You feel him freeze and you mentally shoot yourself in the foot— You didn’t want this to be a thing with emotions, it was bad enough that the first time you’re having sex with the man you’ve loved for five years is as a one night fling. You didn’t want to have to think about the emotional repercussions before having what you’re pretty sure is going to be the best orgasm of your life.

In a moment of panic, and wanting to shift the focus you lean forward, and your hands find the button of Logan’s pants. You unbuckle the belt, and he peppers kisses along your shoulders, your fingers fumble with the button, and he noses your jaw, you slide down the zipper and he pecks your neck. All of a sudden the intimacy becomes too much so you trail your hands at the band of his underwear and you begin to pull the fabric down. Coarse hair grazes your fingers, and before you can stop yourself your hand runs up his stomach, and down back to his groin— his breath shudders against the nape of your neck as he begins to nip at your skin.

Before you can fully expose the man he grabs your hand and puts it on his shoulder as if saying to let him do the work. You obey and lift your hips to give him space. Next thing you know your being guided back close to him, hovering over his groin.

While you hadn’t seen his dick fully yet, you knew the mutant was big. You could tell regardless of the scenario. The way he walks, the way he sits— legs spread so wide it’s like he’s constantly inviting you to kneel between them. Missing the opportunity this time didn’t make you think any different though, this man was massive. The heat within your body was already painful enough, but now the heat you feel outside your cunt was unbearable.

Your right hand slid between your bodies as you reached for Logan's thick dick. He let out a low growl as your fingers wrapped around his shaft. Logan's fingers reached for the fabric between your thighs, moving the soaked cloth to the side urging you to put his cock inside.

You guide the tip to your entrance and you can feel your cunt clench around nothing in anticipation. You feel heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, but the aggression in Logan’s breathing gives you relief that you’re not the only one desperate. But for who it was is a different story.

Logan got impatient and lifted his hips to push the tip past, and your mouth fell open as a silent moan possessed your body. God, you were right. He was so thick, the stretch was borderline unbearable but before you could fully adjust Logan began to thrust up even further. His dick going so deep, the tip hit the spongy part.

He let out a strangled grunt as he held your hips down, and you squirmed.

“You needa stop that.” He barked, as he rolled his head back against the couch rest, trying to control himself as he felt your hole clench around him.

“I’m sorry,” You sob, trying to adjust but the pain and pleasure were too overwhelming you could feel yourself losing focus.

“I just–” He shushes you by cradling you against his shoulder, arms enveloping you in a tight hug, and just when you think you’ve calmed down he devours you like you’re his last meal. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you from his lap before he brings you down and he thrusts up.

A sob escapes your lips as his hips fire off like a pistol, thrusting in and out, brutal but so worth it as your desires are finally being satiated. He’s holding onto you like if he let go you’d float away. A string of curses fill the air as he continues to pump into you.

“Fuck, fuck, Logan.” You mumble, words slowly leaving your mouth.

“Awe,” Logan tuts as his hips fall into a normal pace, his hand coming to caress the back of your hair. “Don’t tell me this pussy is lightweight, we’ve only just started and you’re already acting like this?” You don’t respond, and instead let out soft moans as he continues to fuck into your abused cunt. Logan uses the opportunity to pull you back by your hair (again) to examine your face. It’s flushed red, glowing with perspiration, your chest panting as you try to catch your breath.

“No baby that won’t do.” He caresses the hair out of your face and nuzzles his face against yours. His facial hair prickling your skin. He places a kiss on your forehead before he pounds into you faster, deeper than before. You can barely keep your eyes open and all the sounds that leave your lips are just pathetic little whimpers and sobs.

"M'close." He grunts and you can't help but agree. "You gonna come, sweetheart?" You can't find the words and nod, pliant like a ragdoll in his arms. He groans.

"C'mon. You can do better than that, can't ya? Tell me."

"Fuck yes," you pant, your voice barely audible between gasps. You writhe beneath him, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, but with his hands pinning your wrists, the only thing you manage to grab is the rough hair on his lower abdomen, the friction of it grounding you as much as the heat and slap of his body. "Please… don’t stop."

His grip tightens on your wrists, the pressure pushing you to the edge as he moves faster, his breath hot against your skin. Each thrust sends a jolt through your body, every nerve alight with anticipation and need.

"That's it," he growls, voice thick with control as he watches you fall apart beneath him. "Let go."

You can feel it building, the tension coiling in your core, and with one final snap of his hips, you shatter—your body arching, toes curling, a strangled cry escaping your lips. The world blurs, everything outside this moment fading as you hit your peak, wave after wave crashing over you.

But even through the haze, you feel him reaching his own release. His pace becomes erratic, his muscles tensing, and as he finally falls over the edge, his body tight against yours, he groans—a low, guttural sound—before the name slips out.

"Jean—"

The word cuts through the air like a knife, your euphoria draining in an instant, replaced by a sharp, hollow ache in your chest.

Your heart plummets, and the warmth of his body that moments ago felt so consuming now feels like ice against your skin. The name he whispered isn’t yours. It echoes in your head, louder than the pounding of your pulse, louder than the ragged breaths you're both still catching. You feel like you’ve been struck, yet somehow, you’re not surprised. You always knew this wasn’t really about you. But it doesn’t stop the ache spreading through your chest.

You close your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat as the reality of it all comes crashing down. This was always going to hurt.

For a few seconds, neither of you moves. The weight of the moment lingers, heavy and unbearable. His body relaxes, but the guilt etched into his expression is unmistakable, and you can feel the shift in the air. The intimacy that just moments ago had been raw and consuming has evaporated, leaving behind only an awkward silence and a sense of regret so thick it’s suffocating.

You disentangle yourself from him slowly, the warmth of his skin now foreign, a reminder of what you never really had. You sit up, your body still trembling, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts. The room feels stifling now, every breath you take thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Logan’s eyes open, still clouded with the haze of pleasure, but they widen when he realizes what he’s done—what he’s said. Panic flashes across his face, but it’s too late. You’ve heard it, and you can’t unhear it.

“Shit…” he mutters under his breath, his hand reaching out as if to apologize, but you’re already pulling away, slipping out of his grasp like sand between his fingers.

“It’s fine,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, though the crack in it betrays you. You force yourself to keep moving, pulling your clothes back into place, each motion slow and deliberate, as if trying to hold yourself together with every button and clasp.

He doesn’t say anything, and for once, you’re grateful. You don’t want to hear an apology, you don’t want to hear him stumble over words of regret. You don’t want to hear him say her name again.

You stand up, back turned to him, your chest heaving not from passion, but from the pain you can’t quite swallow down. Your hands are shaking as you adjust your clothes, but you refuse to let him see it. You knew this was a mistake. You knew this wasn’t love.

“This was never meant to fix anything,” you finally say, your voice steadier than you feel. “I was just… trying to help.” The words taste bitter, but they’re true. You’d gotten caught up, you’d let yourself believe—if only for a moment—that maybe it could be more. But it never was.

Logan sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking at you with something that could almost be remorse. But it doesn’t matter anymore. He made his choice long before tonight.

With one last glance over your shoulder, you meet his gaze. His eyes are still shadowed by the weight of his unrequited love, and you can see it all too clearly now. You were never the one he needed. You never stood a chance.

“I’ll be fine,” you lie, turning back to the door, your footsteps heavy as you leave the room, abandoning the project you had started earlier that night, each step pulling you farther away from the moment that should’ve never happened.

But even as you walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that for a second, despite knowing better, you let yourself believe it was real.

———

a/n: i thrive off of feedback and criticism.

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

Note

Do you ever think about eel cuddles? I feel like there are times when they want to snuggle and be in their eel forms while doing it so it's more comfortable for them. I kinda picture being in a big tub with one, their shrimpy is either nakey or wearing a bathing suit and just chilling in the bath with music playing and talking to them. Maybe you get to mess around with their fins or touch their cool claws all the while getting covered in their slimy love.

I do, I think about it so much and I am a sucker for non-sexual intimacy!!!! As much as I like to think about spicy thoughts with the tweels, there's something so domestic about sharing a bath with your partner, scratching and massaging their scalp and carefully rinsing out the shampoo so that it doesn't get in their eyes. It's easier to scrub your back when you have someone else there to do it for you. Yes, it's not the only time they'll see you naked, but there's something extra vulnerable about seeing all the moles, stretchmarks, and scars on your skin under a warm bathroom light.

Floyd isn't a big fan of bubble baths or using things like bath bombs, surprisingly! The idea of foaming bubbles and fizzy colors is cool at first, but all the smells and colors can overstimulate him when he's trying to relax. If he's trying to relax with his shrimpy, he actually prefers to use products with scents that remind him of home. Allow me to flex my ex-Lush employee knowledge, but he likes products that smell a lot more fresh, salty, and even citrusy! Plus, it makes you smell a lot more like him in the end. Floyd will rub his soap into your skin, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck to revel in the contact. For added measure, he'll rub his face, hands, and tail into you so that you'll be all slick and slimy just like him! He'll even do you the favor of massaging it into your skin if you throw a fit about feeling too wet. By the end, you'll have such smooth, soft skin that Vil is going to wonder if Azul decided to start selling his serum to the public.

Jade is just a tad bit more adventurous, if adventurous means picking all the woodsy, floral, and earthy scented bath products he can get his hands on. His favorite scents are rosemary and chamomile, which sounds weird at first but are actually quite pleasant. Jade will get you your very own shampoo, conditioner, and bath products suited for your hair and skin. He will only keep them in his bathroom, though. He slowly but surely gets you accustomed to his products, lush bathroom, and the soothing scrap from his nails that he repeatedly assured you wouldn't hurt. He'll use his claws to gently trace shapes and his name into your skin as he compares how different your skin's texture is compare to him. He's marveling how your fingertips prune up and your nails get softer, unlike his own hands which stay firm, slick and sharp. You're gonna get so used to Jade taking care of you in the bath that you're gonna be dragging yourself every other evening to wash up with Jade to take care of you. And care he does, for your his shrimp as well!

As a the shrimp to an eel, your their symbiote and they'll also expect you to clean them up too. Easier said than done when they're covered in a layer of mucus that sticks to your fingers and makes it hard to grab a hold of their squirming tail (they move it on purpose cause they think your furrowed brows and pout is funny). You can get them to settle down once you manage to trace the ridges of their fins, a particularly sensitive spot on their body that's the equivalent of tracing nails along your spine, soft and delightful shivers will make them chirp and click as you draw shapes and place kisses. It's a sight that the big bad scary eels reserve just for your eyes. Softness in the sea is reserved for only their mate, after all.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #mochi asks

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em1i2a3 · 4 months ago

Text

In The Heat of The Summer, You’re So Different From The Rest.

Bjorn x fem!reader

Author’s Note: Howdy y’all. I took a bit of time off from writing because Christmas was an absolute shit show with all the gift shopping and family gatherings. I managed to write this on my breaks during work, and today I was finally able to sit down and work through the little slump I hit to finish this thing! I am back on the roll though and have so many damn ideas running through my head, I cannot wait to post more and let you guys in! Hope you guys had a great Christmas (or holidays!), and I hope you all enjoy this new little one shot. Enjoy your New Year’s Eve if I don’t post before that! :)

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, minors DNI. We have oral sex, both female and male receiving at the same time, P in V sex (unprotected, you know the drill, wrap it up before you go heels to Jesus please lol, stay protected), there’s an established FWB relationship here, I don’t think I missed anything!

A p.s from the author: Y’know when you hear a song and you’re like “holy shit this is a good song to base a horny little smut piece on”? Yeah Summer by Brockhampton is the fucking culprit for the inspiration of this little one-shot. Love the song, adore the lyrics and my god does it make me want to be in warmer weather right now lol.

Word Count: 4,474

Nothing had prepared you for Yvaga III’s twin suns. The warmth felt suffocating, and it weighed everything down, making the air shimmer with a golden haze that made your skin perpetually damp with sweat. The lush greenery and rolling hills were beautiful, sure, but it was hard to appreciate it when every article of clothing clung to your back, and every movement you made sent fresh beads of sweat down your skin. Sometimes, you even found yourself longing for the dark and sterile chill of Jackson’s Star.

You sat in the shadow of the ship, the heat of the day clinging to the air, sticking onto your skin, a film of sweat painting your entire body. You wore a white tank top and a pair of boxer shorts you borrowed from Tyler, knowing they would provide a more airy and baggy fit. Your legs were stretched out in front of you, and you held the data pad in your hands, looking at the scan you had conducted on the ship.

“The air conditioner is fucking broken.” You called out over the drilling noise that echoed above you, throwing yourself back into the tall grass that cushioned you and the ship, sweat trailing down your temples as you squinted up at the shimmering sky.

“I think we knew that when we woke up drowning in our own sweat this morning for Christ sake.” Navarro yelled from the top of the wing above you.

“I feel like I’m overheating, does anyone have an ice pack or something?” Rain complained, her voice carrying from inside the ship as she stepped into the light, her face reddened by the heat, looking as miserable as you felt.

”We’re saving them for tonight.” Tyler responded, “I’d rather not have one of us die from heat stroke while sleeping.” He added, as you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your arm, your chest filling with the thick air.

”This place is gonna fucking kill me.” You muttered, lifting yourself up from the grass, dusting the back of your shorts off “I’m going to lay in my bunk.” You called out, feeling all the sweat dripping down your skin as you made your way into the ship. Thankfully it wasn’t as bad as being outside, but it was still stuffy, the dull scent of sweat mixing with the moisture in the air. You kicked off your shoes, entering the living quarters you shared with Navarro, throwing yourself onto the bottom bunk with a loud groan, before quickly flipping yourself over to stare up at the beams that held up the bed above you. The tank top you wore was soaked through, and the waistband of your boxer shorts were damp, sweat was pooling everywhere, and all you could do was try to fan yourself with your hand, hoping that it would help.

The sound of heavy boots on the metal floors echoed outside of the living quarters, immediately gaining your attention, a groan escaping your lips as you closed your eyes.

”Go away.” The steps didn’t stop, and a moment later the door to the room hissed open. You tilted your eyes towards the doorway, seeing Bjorn standing against the frame. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, the dark fabric sticking to his legs. Like everyone else he was glistened with sweat, and flushed red from being exposed to the prolonged heat. His sharp blue eyes scanned over you slowly, lingering on the way your tank top was clinging to you before returning his eyes to yours.

”Are you always this dramatic, or is today special?” He asked, amused by the sight in front of him, as you shot him a tired glare.

”What do you want, Bjorn?” He stepped inside of the room, letting the door shut behind him.

”You looked like you were going to faint out there,” He said, a smirk widening across his face, leaning against the wall near the bunk beds, “Thought I’d make sure you didn’t melt into the floor or something.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You muttered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, his eyes flickering to your tank top again, watching your chest rise and fall. He was practically stripping you with his eyes at this point, the way they roamed over your exposed legs, picturing the last time he had held them, or nipped at the skin of your thighs. It was impossible not to picture you under him, especially when you were splayed out like this and breathless.

”You look like you’re suffering,” He said, his tone laced with mocking sympathy, “Want me to get a fan?” You rolled your eyes.

”Do you see a fan anywhere?” You shot back, your voice sharp. Bjorn grinned, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a single large ice cube, holding it up into your line of sight between his fingers.

”I brought you something better.” He commented.

”And what are you going to do with that?” You asked, your eyes flickering from the ice cube then back to him.

”Help you out,” He responded, pushing himself off the wall to sit on the edge of your bunk, the mattress dipping under his weight. The faint smell of sweat and aftershave itches your nose as you sit up fully, “Unless you’d rather be uncomfortable, cause if that’s the case I’ll use this on myself.” You squinted at him.

”This feels like a setup.” Bjorn’s smirk widened.

”Always so suspicious…” He murmured, “You know me better than that love.”

“That’s exactly why I’m suspicious.” Not moving as he leaned in closer, bringing the ice up to your neck without waiting for permission. The first touch felt electric as the cool droplets slid against your heated skin. You gasped softly at the sensation, a gentle relief washing over you, feeling Bjorn’s hand come into contact with your thigh, rubbing it slowly, caressing it with such softness that it almost made you climb on him.

“You’re jumpy,” He remarked, trailing the ice down the curve of your neck.

”It’s cold,” You replied, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to hold in your reactions.

”That’s the point.” You felt your cheeks heat up at the way he whispered. The ice left a wet, glistening path down your skin, as his knuckles moved the drops of water along your collarbone. The touch was slow, and when his eyes flicked to yours, the intensity made your stomach tighten.

”Been a while,” You said softly, your voice catching in your throat, Bjorn’s eyes relaxing a bit, his hand on your thigh sliding up to your waist, nodding.

”I know.” He whispered. The two of you had this on again off again thing together, oftentimes you turned to him just for some physical contact, but it was so natural you guys had found yourselves addicted to one another. The dry spell came when the close living quarters were established, and neither of you could figure out how to sneak around properly without the whole group figuring things out, so plans were scarce.

The ice trailed lower now, slipping beneath the neckline of your tank top, settling on one of your breasts, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

”Let’s take this off hmm?” You hesitated slightly, the tension between the two of you thickening. Slowly, he pulled the damp fabric over your head, tossing it to the floor. His gaze dragged over you, the hunger burning behind his blown out pupils, lingering on every curve of your body, and every bead of sweat that created a sheer on your skin. A small smile appeared on his lips.

”Much better,” He muttered, the ice now tracing over the swell of your breast, the coolness causing your nipples to harden, your back arching towards him. His free hand came up to push the cold trail of droplets over the rest of your heated skin.

”Still too hot?” He asked, moving closer to you.

”Bjorn-“ Your sentence died as he dropped the piece of ice off the side of the bed, sliding his hands to your hips, gripping tightly before pulling you forward to lift you effortlessly onto his lap with a practiced ease, a sharp gasp escaping your throat. His stiff chest pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your thighs, holding you in place. He looked up at you, his grin widening now, your hands coming up to hold either side of his damp neck.

”That’s much better.” He commented, settling himself beneath you, before claiming your mouth with his in a kiss that was tense and rough, his hands roaming over your back with the confidence of knowing exactly how to touch you under his belt. He broke the kiss, moving his lips towards your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before soothing the marks with his soft tongue. You breathed in shakily, your fingers now tangling into his hair, his hands pulling you flush against him.

”Bjorn,” You moaned, his name leaving your lips effortlessly, feeling his open mouth peppering hot wet kisses along your jaw. His fingers digging into your thighs just enough to remind you how firmly he had you in place.

”Something you need to say?” His breath stuck to your skin, a smile ghosting against your neck.

”You’re being cocky.” Bjorn chucked, the sound resonating against your throat.

“Am I? Cause I don’t really hear you complaining.” Before you could retort, his hands shifted, one trailing up the small of your back to pull you closer to him, the other settling on the soft skin of your waist. His calloused fingers tickled the sensitive flesh of your lower back, as his mouth returned to yours, his lips moving against yours gently. The weight of him beneath you, the heat radiating from every inch of his body, was overwhelming to your senses, but the tension was burning and tightening even more in the pit of your stomach. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, tugging gently at it before deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, making your breath hitch briefly, your hand coming up to cradle his cheek, a moan vibrating against his lips. You could feel his touch travel down to your ass, gripping the flesh in his palms, massaging gently, as he guided your hips towards his so that you could feel how hard he was through his shorts.

”I think we have too many clothes on.” He whispered against your mouth, the both of you giggling softly.

”Couldn’t agree with you more.” You smiled, kissing him one more time before moving off of him, going further back onto your bunk while peeling off the boxer shorts you had on, throwing them off the side of the bed, your gaze attaching to Bjorn’s as he stood up from the mattress, removing his shorts and boxers in one go. You were always surprised at how ready he was when the two of you would have sex, and this time was no exception. His cock was hard, the tip was a blush red, but he wasn’t too riled up yet, not enough to have precum dripping out from the tip, but the sight still made your mouth water. He made sure the door to the room was locked before joining you on the bed, your fingers trailing over the skin of your stomach as you watched him settle on his knees, opening your legs to have him settle between them.

”Eager are we?” He commented, pushing some of the stray hairs out of your face, plastering an array of kisses over your face, on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose, but completely avoiding your lips, trying to tease you.

”I could say the same for you, it’s obvious you’re the catalyst for this situation right now.” You point out, a smirk drawing up on your lips, as he pulls you onto him, your thighs now straddling his waist, “Point proven.” You say breathlessly, leaning down to kiss him roughly, holding his stubbly cheeks between your hands, feeling his fingers digging into the meat of your hips. He pulls away from the kiss, his sharp blue eyes glossed over, drunk on his own anticipation.

”Turn around,” He instructed, his voice steady. You could feel the heat creeping up on your skin, your heart pounding against your chest, as he guided you in turning your body with an ease that sent a thrill through you, you hesitated for a moment, following his lead, twisting until you were straddling him in reverse. He pulled you back a little bit, just enough so you could feel the heat of his breath travelling over the back of your thighs, and cooling your wet core, a small groan escaping Bjorn’s lips at the sight.

”Just like that, stay right there.” He whispered, steadying you as his lips pressed against one of your thighs, sucking gently on the flesh, leaving a small red mark right below your butt. The intimacy of the position had your heart racing so much you could feel your head spinning, your hands bracing yourself on his thighs as his mouth came up right against your cunt, his tongue teasing against your slit with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. He knew your body like that back of his hand, he knew all your weaknesses, and he loved every second he had you squirming under his control. A soft moan escaped your lips, your body responding by pressing against his unyielding tongue, your fingers digging gently into his thighs. His stubble scraped against your skin, the roughness adding an edge to the overwhelming heat of his touch and breath. You pushed yourself more towards him, your back arching at the way his tongue worked against you, another moan escaping your lips, reaching down to grab onto his cock, feeling and hearing his breath hitch at the new contact, bringing yourself down to the tip, your tongue flicking against it to tease him, earning a groan. His movements faltered for a moment, as his mouth moved off of you.

”You’re really trying to one-up me huh?” You smiled.

”Always,” You replied, adjusting now so you were almost flat against him, your mouth now wrapping around the head of his cock, sucking and tracing your tongue along the sensitive nerve endings, savoring the low groan that it coaxed from him, tasting the saltiness of his precum. You began to move your hand in sync with your mouth's movements, listening closely to the uneven breaths Bjorn took, as he refocused on his own task, his hands now holding onto your lower back moving your soaked core back down onto his mouth. His tongue explored every inch of you, tasting every last drop that fell from your slit, his lips teasing and coaxing reactions from you that left your body trembling on top of him. He was much more experienced than you, and he just knew what to do with your body to make you melt into him, he knew your weak spots, he knew that if he took your clit into his mouth you’d give up immediately, but he didn’t want that, this newfound position was driving you both crazy at this point.

The shared rhythm you found was intoxicating, the heat between the both of you building with every movement, and every moan and gasp for air. You took him deeper into your mouth, pulling up just enough to suck on the tip, feeling Bjorn groan against your skin, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming stimulation his tongue was providing. Your hand tightened around his shaft in response, your movements growing bolder as you took him in deeper, working to draw out those sounds from him again, craving the reactions he was giving you, feeling his body tensing beneath you, his mouth pulling away from you for a split second.

”God keep going, don’t stop.” He begged, burying his face back into you, his eagerness playing out in front of you. You moaned against him, your focus splitting between the pleasure he was giving you, and the satisfaction of feeling him unraveling under your hands and mouth. The tension between the both of you built with every movement, and every passing second, the air thick with heat, and with the unspoken understanding as you moved together, giving and receiving in perfect sync. You could feel his calloused hands slide up your back, then back to your hips, his mouth now moving to your clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, his lips turning up into a smile. You pulled off him for a moment, catching your breath before focusing on the now reddened tip of his cock, running your tongue over the head, focusing on the most sensitive area just below the head. His breath hitched, his voice breaking as he groaned your name, his hips shifting beneath you.

The position left no room for barriers between the both of you, the intimacy of the act alone was just enough, but the raw physicality of the moment was the thing that was pushing you and Bjorn closer to the edge. His hands moved again, one sliding up your back to steady you as the other gripped your hip, his touch grounding you even as his mouth continued to work you into a frenzy.

”Please Bjorn, don’t stop.” You begged, your words spurring him on, as you focused to match his intensity, the tension continuing to build until it was almost unbearable. Every sound and tremor the both of you shared between each other was overwhelming, the pleasure being a fire consuming everything around you.

When the tension finally broke, it left you in absolute shambles, your body was moving involuntarily at that point, grinding on his face, as his hips raised slightly, so you could take him deeper into your mouth, his cum coating the back of your throat. You swallowed every drop, moaning against him as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face with your slick. Your bodies tangled together in a mess, feeling the world blurring around you. Bjorn lapped up the slickness coming from you, before pulling away, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. You took your mouth off him, a sigh escaping your lips at the sensations that were still running through your body.

“Okay…” Bjorn muttered after a long moment, “That was impressive.” You laughed softly, pushing yourself up, so you could roll off of him. Your legs felt like jello as you practically dragged yourself to the space beside him, seeing his mouth still coated with your slick, a drunk haze glistening in his eyes.

“Impressive?” You echoed, glancing up at him with a faint smirk, “I think we deserve more credit than that.” He chucked, his lips pressing against yours for a moment, before pulling away, watching you lick yourself off your lips.

”Oh definitely, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” He whispered, a smile coming up on his mouth as he watched your eyebrows raise.

“You’re ambitious,” You replied, feeling his fingertips trace circles along your waist, “Didn’t I just ruin you?” Bjorn laughed loudly, feeling himself stirring back to life, the blood running hot in his veins as he nodded.

“I think I’ve got enough left in me to ruin you right back actually, we can call it even after that.” His voice sent a fresh wave of heat through your body, as the familiar pull of desire reignited in your stomach, despite the comedown you were currently experiencing from your orgasm. His shimmering blue eyes searched for yours, the burning craving and lust coating the stare.

“You’re actually serious?” You asked, your voice trembling as his hand moved lower, brushing over the curvature of your hip.

”Very serious,” He replied, leaning over to your ear, his hot breath hitting against the shell, “And by the way, you look incredible like this- flushed, spent, and already ready for more.” He whispered, his words sending shivers down your spine, as he pulled back, shifting so he could sit with his back against the frame of the bunk bed.

“Now climb on.” He added. You looked up at him, now noticing that he too was a blush red all over his naturally pale skin. You laughed a little, pushing yourself up onto your knees.

”You make it sound like you’re an amusement park ride.” You commented, putting your thighs on either side of his hips, the intimacy of the position making your pulse quicken, as you settled on top of him. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

”Well, I’m your amusement park ride…And I want to feel you.” You laughed lightly, leaning in, your lips brushing up against his in a kiss that started soft, but quickly escalated into something deeper, more urgent. It was sloppy, and wet, and the both of you could taste each other on your tongues. Bjorn groaned softly, as his hands slid down to grip your waist, pulling you closer to align your bodies perfectly. These were the times where the both of you knew there was something else between the two of you, there was no denying the craving was just a ploy to be closer to you. He could never keep his eyes off you throughout the times where you weren’t sleeping together, and you were the same, but the desire of being something more was left unspoken, it was just the right thing to do.

The earlier tension was still there, simmering just beneath the surface as your hands moved up to hold his neck, feeling Bjorn's fingertips tracing lazy patterns against the soft expanse of skin along your back, the both of you continuing to kiss messily, until your lips were sore. He pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath uneven, your pubic bone feeling Bjorn’s erection pressing up against it.

“You ready for me?” He asked, one hand coming up to push your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, as the other one settled on your hip.

”Yes.” You replied, your voice trembling, bracing your hands on his shoulders, while you lifted yourself slightly so he could reach around you to line himself up with your sensitive slit, the both of you letting out a synched groan as you sank down onto him, the stretch familiar and intense, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your chest briefly before looking up at you, seeing your head tilted back in pure ecstasy, your neck fully exposed to him. He took the opportunity to trail kisses up your damp skin, nipping at every spot he could, feeling you settle down fully onto his cock.

“Fuck, “ He managed to say, “You feel so good.” You let out a shaky laugh, your nails digging into his shoulders as you began to rock your hips, the movements slow at first, testing how much your sensitive walls would be able to handle. You could feel Bjorn’s hands sliding down to your ass, gripping it gently as he rolled his hips beneath you in sync with the way you rocked against him but with a new intensity that made you gasp. The closeness of the position only heightened every sensation that struck your body like a tidal wave, every time his hips met yours you could feel the blood in your veins setting ablaze as you pressed into him even more. Bjorn’s teeth grazed against the skin on your neck, leaving a visible mark, before soothing the zap of pain with his tongue.

”God you’re fucking incredible.” He moaned, thrusting up into you, your head tilting back as your legs tightened around his waist.

”You’re so fucking good to me Bjorn.” You managed to breathe out, your fingers tangling into his hair, pulling it gently, “But I need you to be a little rougher with me now.” He chuckled softly, though it quickly dissolved into a groan as you picked up the pass, your hips moving against his with an urgency he had never seen before, his little gasps for air being heard over the creaking of the bed.

”You’re gonna kill me.” He commented, his voice strained but filled with amusement, his hips now finding your rhythm, grinding up into you as his lips brushed against yours, his tongue teasing yours briefly.

”Good,” You whispered against his mouth, “You deserve it.” You added, letting out a breathless laugh. The pace grew faster, more desperate, the tension building between the both of you again with every thrust and sound that escaped into the room. Bjorn’s grip on you tightened, his movements rougher and sloppier, his breath hot against your skin. You could tell he was close, and as you trembled against him, already chasing your second orgasm, he whispered scrambled sweet nothings into your ear, trying to compose words together even though it was hopeless at this point.

When the tension finally snapped, it made you cry out. Your hands tightened in Bjorn’s hair as his cock twitched in you, his warm cum coating your fluttering walls. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding your body close to his as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, the both of you attempting to catch your breath, feeling your muscles twitching involuntarily. He pulled back slightly, looking up at you, his ice blue eyes overtaken by the wide expanse of his pupils, a lazy smile drawing up on his lips.

“Was it worth it?” You murmured, your voice teasing, as you brushed a hand through his damp hair. He laughed gently.

”Every fucking second,” He replied, the sentence dripping with satisfaction, “But I will definitely need a break before the next round, you have me spent.” He added, his lips meeting yours briefly as he pulled out of you, feeling his seed drip onto his thigh.

“You must’ve been dying to get a moment alone with me during our little dry spell.” You commented, pulling yourself off him, laying down on the mattress, the pillow puffing out beneath your head.

”Oh you wouldn’t believe it, we have to make sure that doesn’t happen again cause I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another one.” He replied, turning onto his side so he could face you, “I might fucking implode.” He added, earning a laugh from you.

”For once I actually agree with you…” Your voice trailed off, as you turned onto your side as well, “I really missed this.” He smiled, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

”I missed it too.”

#alien franchise #alien romulus fanfic #alien: romulus #bjorn alien romulus #bjorn x fem reader #alien romulus #bjorn alien romulus x reader #bjorn smut #bjorn x reader #bjorn alien romulus smut #spike fearn #my entire body is literally on fire from writing this thing for too long lol #the hot hot heat of my steamy mind #i’m just a girl

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sexilene · 1 year ago

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smelling like an angel!

here is everything i use and i promise you’ll be smelling and looking angelic! 🪽🌸🐇

🪽 my daily go to's are for sure, britney spears fantasy and the midnight fantasy for perfumes, they have that soft vanilla scent while also being sooo 2000s! on fancier days i use the casablanca lily perfume from byredo it’s my fave!

🪽 for my hair the tresemme shampoo and conditioner makes my hair smell so good for days im not kidding!! if you are feeling a bit fancier/expensive then i recommend the oribe gold lust shampoo and conditioner it’s also heavenly.

🪽 i also blowout my hair with the extra strength color wow spray orrrrr the oribe royal blowout spray and use curlers so it holds its shape, then i lock that it with the sexyhair shine/weather proof hairspray then oil/serum (kerestase exlir ultime) or the oribe split end seal! i like my hair to shiny, soft and bouncy like 90s butterfly cut with slightly fluffy bangs, sorta like a supamodel!

🪽 i use the tree hut hibiscus ylang ylang body scrub when i’m feeling pinkkk heaven and if im feeling fancy i use the ouai st. barts scrub and the elemis salt glow. i also am using the sticky dates body wash from lush rn and it’s like sooo vanilla i love it! (i'm literally always going to lush lol). oh! and the necessaire unscented bar soap is fabulous as well!

🪽 i use the pink dove deodorant im not sure what its called since ive gotten it so many times but i love the smell! for lotions i do a mix of a body shimmer from ionic london, or the soleil blanc shimmer from tom ford and the ouai st. barts creme which smells like a frosting vacation! i buy the i also use the sleepy dust powder from lush and basically cover my clothes, bed-sheets, inside of my shoes and body with that, go get it seriouslyyy! i also crush up glittery eyeshadow sometimes to mix in with the powder to leave things shiny and so when i offer some to guys to put on their gym clothes or whateverrrr they are slightly glittery and smell like me 😇😇 ‘swoon’

🪽 something i also like to do which is a little odd is that i like to very lightly spray tom ford cologne on my mattress and pillows because it smells like hotel to me!

🪽 always keep a spare mini perfume samples in your bag because you never know when you’ll need a touch up or if a friend need a quick spritz that way you both aren’t wearing the same perfume! 🤍

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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 years ago

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Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part II

Title: Don’t Take My Sunshine Away, Part II

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader (Sunshine)

Fandom: The Gray Man

Word Count: 3K

Series Summary: You lived your life on a schedule. Everything is planned out from sunrise to sunset. But what happens when you go out on a limb and out of your comfort zone? Will it have dire consequences?

Chapter Summary: Lloyd draws you a bath and prepares brunch.

Warnings: dacryphilia, fingering (f receiving), gun, implied/referenced stalking, oral sex (m receiving)

A/N: I barely edited this one. If you catch anything, tell me, please! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Spotify Playlist is here.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Lowering your restrained form, Lloyd’s upper body strength is on full display. As your back is finally flush with the ground, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You close your eyes and relax your breathing as you feel Lloyd’s hands roaming over your body before beginning the meticulous work of untying knots and working rope around your sensitive flesh.

As each limb is freed from confinement, you can feel the blood rushing back through your veins. You stretch out each muscle from your thighs to your toes, then again from your biceps to your fingers. Lloyd stands up to tie up the long lengths of rope while you sit up and finally get a good look at the state you are in.

You trace along the rope burns on your body. Trailing down to a purpling bite mark and a swelling “LH” on your inner thigh. You keep your face neutral as you examine your war wounds, careful that Lloyd may be watching.

Speak of the Devil as he shall appear.

Lloyd crouches next to you, running a hand over yours before looking down at his work. “I bet that hurts like a bitch. But, it is hot to see my initials taking up space on this beautiful skin of yours. Come on, Sunshine,” His arms scoop under your knees and behind your back, standing up to his full height, “What say we get you fed and watered, huh?”

You didn’t like how small you felt in his arms. Too small, too close for comfort. “Sir, I…I can walk. You don’t have to carry me–”

“I know, Sunshine. But if you think I’m gonna trust you to walk on your own, you’re dreaming,” He walks toward the steps and begins the climb, “First off, I don’t trust you not to run off just yet, forgive me. And secondly, I don’t want your blood getting everywhere.” As he gets to the top of the steps, you can see brightness coming from under the door. He turns the knob and the bright mid-morning sun makes you cover your eyes.

How long had you been here? Where is…here?

You are being put down on your feet, the plush rug is soft underneath your toes as you look around the lush bathroom. You weren’t expecting such a pretty display after being in that basement, but here you are as Lloyd turns on the water on the vintage claw-foot tub. He tests the water temperature and adds a generous amount of bubble bath from a bottle you recognize.

“Is that African black soap? I use that…at home…” Your words die as you realize the shelf is full of the same brands of toiletries you use at home. Shea Moisture shampoo and conditioner, Native Coconut and Vanilla body wash, Venus razors. The only way he could know what you use is–

–if he’d been inside your apartment.

If you freak out, he will freak out. Stay calm, and he’ll stay calm.

“Yeah, I know everything about you, Sunshine. Come on, get in the tub,” He holds out a hand and you take it and step slowly into the relaxing bubble-filled bath water, “How is it? Too hot? Not hot enough?”

“Sir…,” You trail off, sinking back into the soothing bath, “It’s so perfect. My entire body needed this.” Closing your eyes, you don’t notice the moan that escapes you as your muscles loosen across your body.

“Watch it, Sunshine, or I might get in with you making sounds like that,” He stood above you, reaching for the body wash and a fluffy bath sponge, before grabbing a stool and sitting on the side of the big tub. He shoves the scrubber under the water to soften it, then pours a generous amount of body wash onto its surface.

Massaging in the gel, he pulls your left leg out of the water and begins to bathe you. Taking care to get every inch of skin he can reach, he moves to your left arm and then the right side of your body. He’s most attentive with your right thigh with the bite mark and initials. For a second, it looks like he wanted to spend more time fingering where the warm water opened your cut but he decides against it.

He slowly washes your back and neck, reaching around the front to cup your breasts. Dipping his hand under the water, his nimble fingers find your clit. Your swollen ignored button finally getting attention perks you up. Your hands go to the sides of the tub and water splashes onto the floor.

Lloyd moves to kneel at the edge of the tub, the hem of his sleeve getting wet as his arm sinks further into the water. For someone so immaculate, he didn’t seem to mind his shirt getting soapy. He seems to only give a shit about getting you off at this particular moment.

“Relax, Sunshine. Just focus on coming for me,” Quickening his pace on your puffy nub, he groans as unshed tears appear at the corner of your eyes, “You gonna cry for me, Sunshine? Be a good girl and let those tears fall.”

His other hand, suddenly at your neck, pulls you forward into his personal space. Looking into his bright blue eyes, the sliver of control over your body that you once had is now floating off into space.

Your breathing picks up and fat tears roll down your cheeks as your orgasm takes you over. You want to lay back but the hand around your throat pulls you even closer. Your moans of ecstasy are swallowed as Lloyd’s lips slot with yours. Your hands go to his shoulders, unsure if you wanted to press into him or push him back.

As your hands move from his shoulders to his neck, you realize that you want him so much closer. Your orgasm settles as he breaks the kiss, your foreheads touching as you both catch your breath. Your brain is still foggy when you speak.

“Sir? What was…that for?”

He just pulls back and smiles at you, but it wasn’t his normal asshole smile. It was almost…sincere?

“Come on, you must be starving. Think you can stand?” You nod and he helps you up, rinsing off what soap clings to your skin. As you step out of the tub, Lloyd grabs a fluffy white towel and dries you off. As he gets to your right thigh, he takes great care in dabbing the towel on the “LH”.

You watch as he lifts your leg and puts your foot on the stool he was sitting on. He moves to the medicine cabinet and comes back with a first-aid kit. He grabs a tube of what you assume is antiseptic cream and spreads it over the lines of his initials. When you wince at the stinging, Lloyd smiles and bends down to blow on the skin. And that feels so good.

This means he knew it would sting and he could have let you be in pain, but he didn’t. Which is…nice of him?

He applies a couple of gauze pads across the lettering and uses the bandage tape to hold it in place. He packs away the first-aid kit and comes back to stand in front of your nude body. He puts a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to look into your eyes.

“Sunshine, as much as I love looking at your tits and pussy, I don’t want my men to see it and get…distracted,” He grabs your hand, leading you into the attached master bedroom’s massive walk-in closet, and motions for you to sit on the bench in the center of the room. He walks over to a portion of the closet with obviously feminine clothing and you watch as he pulls out a long simple yellow silk dress with a slit up the right side, “I’d like you to put this on. Should fit perfectly.” He hands you the dress and he walks around you back to the bedroom.

Just like that, he left you alone to dress, as if he hadn’t seen every part of you already. You stand and pull the hanger off the dress and put it back on the clothes rail. Touching the dress, you realize it’s real silk, and you don’t recognize the name of the designer. Putting it over your head, you pull the material down your body and look at yourself in the mirror.

Fit perfectly? No. This dress fit like a glove. As if it was tailored specifically for you. You push down the thoughts of how and when your measurements were taken and brush it off as just a lucky coincidence. You take one last look and then walk into the bedroom.

Lloyd sits at the foot of the bed and looks over when you clear your throat. By the facial expression, he thinks you look pretty good. By the sound that escapes the back of his throat, he thinks you look phenomenal. But it’s the words that come out of his mouth that cement what he really thinks of you.

“Fuck, Sunshine,” He gets up from the bed and meets you, “You are perfection.”

You can’t stop the genuine smile that appears on your face. It’d been so long since someone complimented you. “Th-thank you, Sir. I love my gift.”

“Oh, Sunshine, this isn’t your gift. You’ll get that later. As long as you’re a good girl, that is. Can you be a good girl for me?”

If this designer dress wasn’t the gift then what was it? You shook the thought out of your head to answer Lloyd.

“Yes, Sir. I can be a good girl.”

Taking your hand, Lloyd leads you out of the bedroom and through a long hallway to the kitchen. Your feet are cold on the tile floor and you are ushered into a seat at the island counter. Just after you notice the time blinking on the oven, 10:19, you feel a presence behind you. Turning around, you see a tall, stocky man holding a very big gun. You can tell he can handle himself and you can see his finger is near the trigger. You slowly turn back around when you hear Lloyd speaking.

“Don’t worry about Tiny, Sunshine. He’s just here to make sure you don’t go running off while I have my back turned. You understand. Anyway, what do you want on your omelet?” There it was, the asshole smile. It was back.

For a moment, you were upset. But then, you thought about it. You’d been alone with him most of the morning and he had been in a calmer mood. Around his men, he had to appear to be the Boss. The asshole smile was just a front, hiding the genuine smile you caused.

“Peppers and onions, please Sir.” You answered carefully, suddenly unsure of what to do with your hands. You decide to keep them on the counter, lacing your fingers together.

“Coming right up.” Lloyd turns around and gets to work on cutting the vegetables, cracking and whipping the eggs, then combining the ingredients to pour into the pan. The smell of the omelet cooking causes your mouth to water, even though you weren’t all that hungry.

Once the food is plated, Lloyd sits it in front of you. Your eyes light up and you go to take a bite but you don’t have cutlery. Looking up to get Lloyd’s attention, you notice that he is holding a fork and knife in his hands. But he’s not giving them to you. He’s bringing them around the counter and sitting next to you on a stool and pulling the plate closer to himself.

“You didn’t think I was going to give you a knife, did you?” He begins to cut off a bite of omelet and blows on it before holding it out to you, “Come on, eat up Sunshine.”

You debate putting up a fight, but instead, open your mouth and accept the bite of food. Once it hits your palate, you’re surprised that it’s so tasty. A funny thought hits you and you snicker to yourself.

“What’s so funny, Sunshine?” His face is calm, but you know it’s only a matter of what words you use that will make him sway into smiling or scowling.

“I was just thinking if you didn’t want to be…whatever it is that you are, you could always go to culinary school and be a world-class chef.” You smile at him and you see a glimmer of the man from this morning in his eyes.

He only squints before cutting another piece and feeding you. Once you take the offered bite, he studies as you close your eyes and savor the flavors within. Opening your eyes, you notice him watching you. You slowly dart out your tongue to lick your lips and witness as his jaw does ‘the thing’. Biting your bottom lip, you look up into his eyes.

Nothing but fire and desire in those bright blue peepers. He pushes away the plate and grabs your hand, walking before you even climbed down from the stool. He pulls you through the doors of the kitchen that open into a courtyard area with a big fountain. You don’t even get time to look around as you are coming back inside the house on the other side.

You enter what looks to be Lloyd’s office. He lets go of your hand and walks behind the big wooden desk in the center of the room. While he goes about his business, you look around the room at various knickknacks scattered on bookshelves and end tables.

You pick up a ceramic kitten with its tail in the air. It was a dead ringer for the one you had lost weeks ago. Putting it down, you notice a rhinestone hair clip on the corner of the desk. You would know this hair clip anywhere because it’s one-of-a-kind. You got it at the flea market from an old woman who handmade them. But you remembered picking out the iridescent rhinestones because you like the extra shimmer they gave.

You held the hair clip in your hands and squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to see any more of your lost items in this room. And you knew that you would see more if your eyes were open. A hand at the small of your back has you going rigid in an instant.

“Sunshine, I have your gift,” He smoothes his hand over the curve of your backside and you yelp at the smack he delivers when you don’t turn around, “You really gonna make me ask you twice?”

You turn around, eyes downcast. Lloyd puts a hand under your chin, gripping you tight with his thumb and forefinger, and jerks your head up.

“Are you seriously this upset that I took a fucking hair clip?”

“It’s not the hair clip, Sir. I just, I thought we had a…moment. But since then, you’ve been nothing but mean to me. And I know you have to be a certain way around your men but I–”

You’re cut off when Lloyd’s mouth attacks yours. He sucks on your bottom lip, nibbling ever so slightly, eliciting whimpers from you. Lloyd licks into your mouth, tickling your nose with his mustache. When your moan turns into a giggle, you pull away to try and stifle it. But Lloyd feels you pull away and growls before conquering your mouth again and biting at your bottom lip just to the point of pain then stops and pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Nothing but mean to you, huh?” His thumb glides over your bottom lip, your tongue snaking out to taste it, “Look at you, you can’t get enough of me even after I’ve been so mean to you.”

“Sir…you’re all I have.” You try and blink away the unshed tears in your eyes but they have a mind of their own and trickly slowly down your cheeks.

“I know,” Lloyd uses the back of his knuckles to wipe away your tears and puts on a small smile, “Let me give you your gift.” He pulls away and picks up a wide flat jewelry box, opening it to reveal a gold choker that read ‘Sunshine’ in pretty writing.

“It’s…beautiful, Sir. Can I put it on?”

Instead of answering, Lloyd takes the choker out of the box, putting it around your neck when you turn around, and securing it with a hex key. He puts his hand on your hip, turning you back around so he can look at you wearing his collar, so to speak.

“As long as you wear this, you’re mine. You won’t be able to take it off without the key. And I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, past the hunger and the urge to rip your dress off and take you over whatever surface he sees fit.

“What would make you take it off?” Your tone held fear, even if you did get all the words out.

“Well, if you disobey me, I’ll just punish you. But if I get the feeling that you’re against me in any way, I’ll not only take the choker off, but I’ll kill you too. That answer your question?” A different kind of fire brewed in his eyes then, and you didn’t want to push him further.

“I understand, Sir. I’m yours. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.” Instantly, you feel like you’re lying to his face. But when he smiles down at you, you smile back. You have no intention of non-compliance.

“Good girl. Now, why don’t you show me how grateful you are for my gift, Sunshine?” You don’t have to be told twice. You’re kneeling before he even finishes the sentence.

His hands on your face as he cums down your throat scream romanticism and ownership all in one. When he pulls you up, he slides a hand into the slit in your dress and fingers his initials on your thigh.

“Mine.” He says as his other hand slides around your throat.

“Yours, Sir.”

Maybe one day, you’ll reconcile the double-edged sword of being his. But for now, you can just relax and breathe in his Earthy scent while he claims you.

Part III

A/N: Good grief, this chapter took me so long to finish. Hope you enjoyed it!!! I think I still have more in me to give to this fic.

**Tag List**

@motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @peyton-warren @raccoon-eyed-rebel

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #dark! fic #dark fic #dark!fic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

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lilyauna · 2 months ago

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⠀୧ 𓈒⠀ֺ how to smell like a delectable dessert! ㅤ𝜚 ۪ ⪩⪨

since the beginning of high school, ive always been told i smell oh so delicious. my friend would hug me and tell me i smell like vanilla, to now having people smelling me from a foot away, asking who smells so good. here’s my routine to help those who love smelling like a gourmand treat!

shower: i start off with a dove bar soap just to get all the dirt and ickiness off of me. i have two body washes that i use depending on the day, an almond scented body wash (crabtree & evelyn), and a brown sugar body wash (caress) that i use for exfoliation.

after my shower: i rub the eos vanilla cashmere lotion allll over. this lotion smells like a cupcake, and almost yogurt in a way? a good way tho!

once im all dry and everything, then i spray either strawberry poundcake (bath and body works) or 52 (miim.miic) all over. strawberry poundcake is a much more sweeter, cakey smell, while 52 is more of a strawberry milk type of scent.

the product that i recommend sososo much if you want people to smell you from far, asking who smells so good is super milk by lush. this is a leave in conditioner, but oh. my. gosh. it smells so heavenly. it smells like a sweet sugary cinnamon cookie.

for perfume i love boujee marshmallow by kayali. this perfume smells like a sweet marshmallow with strawberries. i passed by two classmates to go to the bathroom and when they came back, one of them nodded and said “thats who smells so good.”

this is what i do to smell like a sweet sugary treat! i hope whoever reads this finds it helpful! ㅤ𝜚 ۪ ⠀⠀ ⪩⪨

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whatislovevavy · 2 years ago

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9. Faint Heartbeat

Jake Seresin x OC (Caledonia Hughes)

WC: 4.5k

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smut (18+), mostly angst

AN: Apologies for the wait, but here's the 9th chapter :) Enjoy :) Thank you @sebsxphia for the encouragement to write this story when it was in development, it means the world <3 Also a big thank you to @royallyprincesslilly for the design of the divider

Please consider leaving a comment, a tip, or reblogging, leaving likes doesn't do anything on this hellsite. It helps with motivation when writing and the tips help since I’m between jobs at the moment :)

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook

These characters, except for Caledonia and Ella, are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic, so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation.

"Jake,"

Your honeyed glazed tone met his ears.

The warm golden glow of his bedroom caressed his visual field, your upright form languidly supported by your hands behind you.

His eyes traced the expanse of your body; red lace accentuating the curves of your lush breasts and the barely visible lace thong hugging your hips as you crossed your legs over the edge of his bed.

He audibly swallowed, unable to move.

You bit your lip softly, pearly teeth almost piercing the bottom lip, trailing your eyes up his form.

He watched as the cherry red painted nail on your forefinger gleamed in the warm light as it moved in a come-hither motion.

His legs moved on their own accord until he could feel the sweet, tart scent of strawberries touch his nose.

Only the soft buzz of unsaid electricity separated you both.

Your stare was too intense. Heavy and lust filled. He knew that once his eyes met yours, he wouldn't be able to look away.

“Come closer.”

Jake didn’t know if he could get any closer.

But none the less he followed the same honeyed tone, letting his hands softly uncross her legs and place them around his waist.

Your breaths intermingled as your lips just grazed each other’s.

Your gaze met his, and he was trapped in place.

He swallowed, unable to look away.

Like a fly in a black widow’s web.

Your eyes were glassy as they seemed to open up his soul for all to see.

Every good memory and bad intention he ever committed, laid before her eyes.

“Why didn’t you want me anymore?”

His throat tightened, regret flashing before his eyes as he took in your now teary eyes and sob wracked tone.

“Caledonia, I-,” he said desperately.

Suddenly, you were cowering away from him, moving further and further up the bed.

“Was I not good enough for you?”

Your tone made his heart clench.

“No, Sweet-”

“Too hard for you to love?”

Tears flowed down your cheeks, eyes red, and bottom lip wobbling with each sob that left your throat like a wounded fox. He could feel his heart sinking like lead into his chest, wanting to reach out, comfort you, and tell you that you weren’t hard to love.

Not in the slightest.

“Just go, Hangman,”

Your snarl made his heartbeat sound in his ears, making it feel like it was getting harder and harder to breath.

Jake sucked in a breath as he awoke, met with only the silence of his room and subtle wirring of the air conditioner.

He was gasping for breath, feeling his sheets constrict him as his sweat permeated the material.

His sheets crumpled to the floor as he flung his body upright and over the edge, putting his head in his hands as he tried to gain control of his breathing.

He let his eyes clench and relax.

This was his burden to bear.

His thoughts raced around one set of words, like planets around a star.