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muddyorbsblr · 3 days ago

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pieces of me

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: While staying over at Loki's place, you get woken up with violently painful period cramps, having you apologizing to him in a panic when your mind starts flashing back to a night almost exactly like this from a previous relationship

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning/s: blood; Reader going through her period; mentions of a previously abusive relationship; language (nope not sorry, Rogers) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: start of steamy moments at the end; precious green flag bf Loki hours

The timer went off with four beeps, and you turned down the brightness of your laptop, rubbing your eyes as you leaned back on the seat of the couch. You groaned into the dark quiet of the living room, stretching your arms and letting your eyes rest for a few minutes before you had to go back in and work on the post-mission report again.

"Darling, what did I tell you about working in such a horrendous position?" You barely had time to react to the sound of Loki's voice, or the gentle yet admonishing tone of his voice, before he scooped you up in his arms and cradled you against him as he sat on the couch.

"You should come to bed," he told you, a soft chuckle escaping him when you instantly relaxed in his hold. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Your mission report can wait until the morning, little mortal, you need your rest."

"'M fine…" you mumbled your protest, words muffled when you nuzzled your face into the crook of the god's neck. "M'almost done…just fifteen more minutes."

He let out a long sigh before tilting your chin up to face him, placing a soft kiss to your lips before moving you off of his lap and reaching for your timer, setting another fifteen minutes to it. "Alright, Y/N. But after this I'm taking you to bed." The way your eyes lit up had him breaking out into an amused grin, reaching over to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles. "To sleep, darling. I prefer you awake and alert when it comes to our lovemaking."

Your boyfriend sat quietly next to you as you resumed work on the report, waiting patiently for the four beeps to go off again. Unfortunately there were still a few fields left to fill out right as the timer went off. He wrapped his hand around yours, placing your laptop down on the coffee table before easily scooping you up in his arms again, this time carrying you to his bedroom.

"You know…I can just go back to my place," you offered. "I know this wasn't exactly what you had in mind when I said I'd sleep over for the night so maybe I can come by tomorrow--?"

"Do you truly think that that is all I want you for, precious mortal?" He sat you down on the edge of his bed before crouching down, his face now level with yours. "I cherish any time I get to spend with you, regardless of what we do." He held the side of your face, weaving his fingers through your hair before closing the distance and capturing your lips in a tender kiss. "Lay down, my darling. Tonight I am more than content simply holding you while we sleep."

Sleep took you as soon as he settled down on the bed beside you and he laid on his side to drape his arm over you. It honestly surprised you how quickly you could drift off ever since you and Loki started seeing each other. Back when you were single you practically slept with one eye open, always ready to spring into action, a fully loaded gun in your nightstand, just in case someone ever made the mistake of going into your apartment and trying something with you.

And it wasn't any better in your previous relationship. Spending the night with your ex mostly consisted of making sure you slept at the very edge of the bed to make sure that his arm didn't accidentally land on you while he flailed about. God help you if it did, it was an hour long tirade about how you "messed up his sleep experience for the night", and he outright demanded that you would "make it up to him" by giving him head.

That was what had you feeling so…foreign in this new relationship with the Asgardian. When he asked you earlier tonight if you wanted to stay with him after coming back from a mission that separated you from each other for the last week, you immediately assumed that it meant part of the night would have been spent naked in bed and most definitely not sleeping.

Not like you would have complained, of course. To say the sex was otherworldly was an understatement.

So having him prioritizing your rest, holding you close at the center of the bed while still wearing the lounge set he laid out for you when you entered his apartment nearly ten hours ago, was entirely uncharted territory. In just a few short months, the god had crafted a blissful little bubble for you that had you so thoroughly and stupidly content. That had you feeling so…safe.

If only the figurative needle that burst that bubble hadn't come tonight in the form of a sharp ache in your lower stomach that had you waking up with a violent start. You lurched away from Loki, clutching your abdomen in pain and pressing your face into the mattress to muffle your groans.

No no no, you thought to yourself in a panic, recognizing the violent clenching as period cramps. This wasn't supposed to be for another week.

The sound of your boyfriend mumbling your name had you scrambling out of bed, mortification and dread flooding you when soft warm light washed over the room and you saw the tiny patch of blood on the mattress. "Darling, what's happened? What's wrong?" He followed your gaze to the spot on the bed. "Oh, my dear heart…"

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, already reaching for the sheets and starting to work them off of the mattress. "I'll--I'll get the spot out and get these back to you." The words started to spill out from you, as if you couldn't get them out fast enough. "I'm so sorry Loki please don't be mad--"

The feel of his hand gently wrapping around your arm had you jumping to stand up straight and turn to face him. But instead of the ire you'd braced yourself for when your eyes met his, instead you found concern. Tenderness, even. "You will do no such thing, darling," he told you, his tone the gentlest you'd ever heard from him. "You will stay right here and I'll be back in a moment."

When he guided you to sit back down on the bed, you began to protest. "But the blood--"

"Is just blood," he insisted, pressing a kiss between your brows. "Nothing we need worry about." He sat you down on the bed, lightly touching your chin before he disappeared from the bedroom in a flash of green.

Barely two minutes later he returned. In one hand was a change of clothes from your closet. In the other was the little acrylic basket you kept in your bathroom cupboard decorated with shark stickers. He set the clothes down on top of his dresser and held his hand out towards you to take.

He led you to his bathroom, placing the basket on the countertop. "Get yourself cleaned and sorted, darling. I'll take care of the bedsheets," he told you before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You really don't need to I'll be done in a few minutes--"

The frantic tone in your voice stopped him from closing the door. "Y/N, what paltry excuse of a partner would I be if I didn't do what I could to alleviate what stresses your body is forced to suffer?"

Loki's response, especially the sincerity that came through with every word, had you floored. He said it like it was the simplest, most basic thing in the world. Like it didn't even need a modicum of common sense to come to that conclusion.

And yet your history was more than enough proof that the answer to his question would have been 'the kind that I've always had'. He must have seen the words forming all from the glazed over look in your eyes as you thought back on former boyfriends, and he let out a sigh, crossing the distance between you again and framing your face in his large hands.

"Darling, I may not completely understand Midgardian anatomy quite yet, an issue I will see to it that I remedy after tonight. But this? Ensuring that you need not add to the stress that you must already bear? This I can do. How could I allow myself to simply sit back and not offer my aid where it could benefit the woman I love?"

Both of you froze, stunned silent, at the words that came from the god. Love. It was a word you didn't dare to use even in the solace of your own thoughts. Sure, the last few months that you'd been with him were nothing short of a wonderful dream that you wish you'd never wake up from. Of course you loved him. Even before your first date, you already had it bad for him.

"You love me?" you blurted out, your words barely louder than a whisper.

"I do," he sighed, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss. "I have for a long while, my darling." He ghosted his lips up the bridge of your nose before pressing another kiss between your brows. "Get yourself cleaned," he repeated, murmuring the words into your skin. "I'll have tea waiting for you when you finish."

Once you were clean and you'd changed into the clothes Loki brought over for you, you stepped out of the bathroom, your heart warming at the sight of the god having placed a tray with a tea set on the storage bench in front of the bed. He shifted he way he sat at the edge of the bed, stretching his arm out toward you to invite you to sit on his thigh.

"Do you feel better, sweetheart?" He wrapped his arm around you, securing you against him as his hand worked its way under the hem of your shirt, thumb softly stroking at your skin. You only nodded your response before leaning over and giving him a kiss. He hummed contentedly against your lips, playfully nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled away. "What was that for?"

"I love you, too," you told him. "I realized while I was in the shower that I didn't say the words back. Like an idiot. But I do…love you. I don't think I even remember a time that I wasn't--"

He quieted the rest of your words when he pulled you into another kiss, weaving his fingers through your hair and holding you in place. "My precious little mortal," he sighed against your lips before he stole another kiss. "Why did you think I would be angry with you over something so…paltry?" You shifted to move off of his thigh, which made him hold you tighter. "You need not hide from me, my love. I need you to know this."

"It's just…" Your voice grew faint as you tried to find the right starting point to even start telling the god about the scars that had stayed with you from the ghosts of your past relationships. "I don't know how to even start finding the words," you said lamely, picking at the stitching of the hem of your top. "But maybe…maybe I can show you."

Loki's eyes widened as you placed your hand over his and brought it up to touch your temple. "Are you certain?" he asked, breathless.

"Of course," you said softly, giving him a tiny smile. "I trust you, Mischief."

You rested your forehead against his, bracing your hands on his shoulders as the memories flooded your mind, nearly knocking the wind out of you. All of the times that your last boyfriend before him mistreated you, neglected your needs and only called you over to stay the night when he wanted sex.

The time when you woke up on a night just like tonight, with painful cramps that came a week early because of the stresses of passing your SHIELD exams that were a part of your final assessment to be taken on to the Avengers team. You'd left a small patch of blood on his sheets and he had an absolute meltdown.

Even just the memory of his words had you flinching in Loki's arms.

Dammit those sheets were a graduation gift from my mom, you dumb bitch. You better clean that up and it better be fucking spotless.

Baby I'm sorry, it's just you know how important anything from my Mama is to me. I mean how would you feel if I just went and pissed on those journals your dad gave you for Christmas last year? What do you mean of course it's the same thing. But that's not what's important, pookie bear. What's important is making it up to me. I mean, you did disrupt my sleep experience.

"I've seen enough, darling," Loki snarled pulling away from you, pure fury in his eyes upon seeing that bringing those memories so vividly to the surface had made your cheeks wet with tears. "I should have his head for his abhorrent mistreatment of you."

You gave the god a half-hearted shrug. "He's someone else's problem now, thank fuck."

"He should not be anyone's problem."

"We can't just get rid of him, he's a civilian," you grumbled, already hating that you had to argue against his sentiment even though you actually agreed with him on a fundamental level. "He's not worth the legalities that we'd be facing. Trust me, I've considered it. From setting his house on fire to hacking his car to drive off a cliff. He's not worth facing the consequences."

Loki pursed his lips, wrapping his arms around you a bit tighter. "I suppose you're right, my love." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Then the only course of action now is taking care of you. Putting those awful memories far in the back of your mind."

He guided you to lay back down on his bed, holding you against him with your back to his chest. He splayed his hand across your lower stomach and used his seiðr to warm the area, relieving your cramps.

It didn't take long before you relaxed against one another, sleep once again sinking its hooks into you.

The next few days felt like something out of a dream, the raven-haired Asgardian going above and beyond, ensuring that you were well taken care of and that you weren't doing anything that could cause you additional undue stress. If he so much as saw you stumble or touch your head while you walked, he scooped you up in his arms and brought you back to his apartment, telling you to rest for an hour. You made a throwaway joke when he laid you down for a nap, calling him "Doctor Loki" right as you fell asleep.

On the fourth day of your period, usually the last day if you were to rely on your history, you got a text from the god telling you to meet him in his apartment for a "routine check-up". It seemed he caught on to your joke and wanted to play along.

However the last thing you expected was to walk into his bedroom and be greeted with the sight of him dressed in only dark slacks and a white doctor's coat, his eyes framed by a pair of angular square glasses. He smirked as his eyes raked over your figure, standing to his full height before making his way to you. "Hello, darling."

"What's all this, Mischief?"

"Well, the symptoms of your…condition seem to have abated," he answered, fighting back the playful smile that threatened to stretch across his face. "Aside from those pesky little headaches that seem to plague you every now and again. Luckily I have a quick and…rather enjoyable remedy for this."

He took your hand in his and started to guide you toward the bathroom.

"And what exactly is this treatment you have in mind?"

"Easy, my love," he said, casually shrugging off the white doctor coat, putting his well-defined chest and abs on display before pulling you into his arms with a gentle tug. He traced a finger down the bridge of your nose before tilting your chin up so he could lay his lips on yours, the kiss quickly becoming more and more heated with each brush of his lips. "Pleasure." With a wave of his hand your clothes and his disappeared in a flash of green and he led you into the shower. "Sweet, decadent, overwhelming pleasure."

A/N: Another request from the 500 follower celebration done! I had such a cozy lil time writing this kind of Loki where he just takes care of his bb and just makes sure that she feels safe and loved 🥹💖

I've got another 4-day weekend ahead of me starting tomorrow and hopefully I can use this time to knock out some stories from both my neverending Tumblr and non-Tumblr TBRs, getting some stories either properly planned out or actually written out, and just overall being productive 🫡

Already working on the next request from the 500 follower celebration list and…it's a Hiddles x Reader story that involves a mango ride 😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @steaa90-blog

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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fridgemissionmaster · 2 days ago

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The demon couldn’t help wringing his hands, oh so tempted to rip that glove off. He sighed marching through those empty halls, the tapping of his footfalls drowned out by the echoing, pounding rain who’s sound came pouring though the windows and open archways.

… This was ridiculous, he should turn on heel and go right back. He didn’t need to go home, but his presents would only hinder and distract at this point, everyone else had already decided to wrap up soon anyway. At least he was able to keep the notes to go over later.

Honestly what was wrong with him. Questioning his own decisions and being stubborn about this. This was…

What?

Who was that assaulting the halls of Diavolo’s academy!?

At the end of the hall under that grand entrance was a familiar figure. But it couldn’t be. Surely you, of all people, with your boisterous entourage wouldn’t be left here in this weather. It had to have been someone else.

Yet as he approached your visage only became more and more clear. You, standing there, lightly bonking your forehead against the stone frame.

Well… though odd you weren’t actually doing any sort of dam..age…

…

“Do you not have an umbrella?”

The human flinched looking over their shoulder. Did you not notice his approach? Did you just feel that safe here or were you that air headed to not be alert of your surrounding!?

“As of this afternoon, no! Not unless you count scrap metal I guess!” You heaved a sigh, turning to the man, a bruise forming where you kept meeting the stone.

“And none of those brothers are taking you back? Classes have long since ended!”

“tch.”

“Honestly! What is with that lot! They drone on and on of their love for you yet abandon you here? Are you kidding me!? Even if not you’re still their charge, it’s their job to care for you, not leave you out in the cold! How did you come to be under their care, they can barely keep themselves presentable let alone tend to another life!”

“OH, will you just shut up, yes they suck but they didn’t mean for THIS! Even if they did cause it!”

YOU raised your voice, at him. Mephisto couldn’t tear his gaze away as you paced around, beginning to wave your hands with such force a soft whooshing sound he could pick up as you cut the air.

“I could be home by now, NNNOOOOOO, Lucifer apparently can’t be a decent dog owner and not let Cerberus use whatever the pup can find as a chew toy, and of course he came in all like ‘oh guess we’ll just have to share, here stand closer’ and everyone gets into a fight over who I should share and umbrella with cause nobody could just, oh, I don’t know, just let me run through the rain for a few minuets to get to the market for a new one! And of course the old one I found in the closet Asmo had to mess up a spell in class and TURN IT INTO AN ANGRY GUITAR! Then obviously everyone had to be busy and needed to leave early. I just wanted to study some! Is that so wrong! And Mammon said we’d go home together but Lucifer just HAD to find out about Mammon holding a betting pool on the tournament and decided that OH OF COURSE IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS I HAVE TO DRAG HIM BACK HOME AND STRING HIM UP TO THE CEILING BECAUSE APPEARENTLY I CAN’T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE OTHER THAN WHAT WOULD BE THE BEST WAY TO GET ON EVERYONE’S NERVES TODAY! Oh, yeah, and guess what!? I can’t even call anybody cause Levi broke my phone! You know what it’s like to wake up DROWNING in the middle of the night, and all your stuff getting flooded! NOT! FUCKING FU-”

“MC!”

THWACK

He wasn’t fast enough.

You froze the moment your hand crashed into the wall, your fingers crumpling under the force.

In stiff jolty movements you slowly removed your hand from the wall.

“Here, let me-” The moment he took your hand you ripped it away.

“I’m Fine. I’m fine.” With a heavy huff you practically fell back against the archway, holding your wrist, your hand slowly stretching out of it’s awkward positioning, looking to the floor.

…

He looked out to the front gate, a chilling breeze rolling past. A step toward the precipitation, with a pop his umbrella came open.

“Mephistopheles, wait.”

He looked to you with a raised bow. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Huh?”

“Come along, it wouldn’t due for Diavolo’s guest to be left out here like this.” He tilted the umbrella your way.

It seemed your mind was running slow, just… staring at him for a moment before realizing what he was offering and scrambling to his side. “Uh- thank you!”

The pair of you walked in silence. He made sure to keep you covered, admittedly he felt a twinge of nerves, he knew the Devildom and human world shared rain but he knew there were different types and if the one today could harm you.

Those colorful lights danced and rippled across the ground, reflecting off the saturated world. It was not often he had the chance to just walk around like this. There was always so much to do, so much to research, so much to find, he always was doing something. Yet all he had to do for the moment was just… well, walk.

… Maybe it was due time to add a photography section to the paper. Students could submit entries, it could be another method to build more community in school, giving students a-

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“Huh? What are you talking about, you’re sounding like an angel. Is this some human nonsense.”

“What? No! I got mad at you, and had nothing to do with… ANY of that. I shouldn’t-… I don’t like that I lashed out at you.”

“… Wait, are you apologizing for indulging in your emotions?” You looked to him baffled, and likely you were greeted to a similar sight from him in that moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “You really are talking like an angel, repressing emotions and being ashamed of expressing them.”

“Hold on, I never said that! Look, just… know I’m not upset at you. I’m just upset you took the brunt of that.”

“Oh…” He shifted his gaze to the road ahead. It was difficult to look you in the eye for too long, they were too… too much swirled inside them, even he could get lost there. “You made it abundantly clear it was nothing on my part.”

“Still…”

Quietly the pair of you murmured amongst yourselves as you went along, drinking in the sights. It was a slow stroll back to the House of Lamentation, neither of you were in any particular rush to get there. On occasion you would point to a different path, saying there was less foot traffic. Did you really think he, of all people, the guy some people accused of being everywhere at once, wouldn’t know better? He didn’t mind though, you needed a break, and he admittedly was enjoying getting to just take a moment in the rain, it had been far too long since he last took a break himself.

Your pace slowed as you inevitably inched closer to the house, the rain the only thing separating you from those last few steps before the door.

“… Hey, thanks for being here.” You turned around to him, your back to the door. Though the porch was right behind you, you still huddled close under his umbrella.

“There’s no n-”

“Your hand! What happened?”

The demon tucked it closer to his side, trying to relax it some and not hold it so awkwardly. “We were interviewing Solomon on a new potion he made. One bump lead into some things getting knocked over and an unfinished, boiling potion spilled on it.”

“What!? It still hurts or is that just a side effect!?”

“It hurts some, even with a health potion. Solomon wanted to make me one, but I took one from the room’s emergency kit. The pain should subside in a few days.”

“A few days!? Are you kidding me!”

“It was, even if unfinished, a potion made by the most powerful wizard, I’m surprised the effects won’t last longer.”

… Huh, even more surprising, you looked more mad than when you ranted about the brothers before.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

Slowly your features relaxed. “Could I hold your hand a moment?”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to try a human world remedy for pain.”

“Oh?” Well, you couldn’t make it worse.

You held his hand so delicately in both of yours’, thumbs gently caressing the back of his. You held it up and close, simply looking to it before

…

“There, kiss it better.” You chuckled. “Judging by that stunned look… it worked?” You took a few steps back. “Uh… consider it a thank you or apology for earlier, again. Okay?........ well, see you?”

Before you could turn away, your hand was taken so softly. His hot breath brushed over it before he shut those emerald eyes, pressing his lips to the back of it. Then one after the other on each of your fingers. With soft clicks that umbrella was dropped to the ground, both his hands now occupied by your shoulders. It was so soft, that kiss to your forehead, was he scared of hurting you?

He stood back, eyes not quite meeting your’s for a moment. Those drops caught in his hair marvelously. “Here’s hoping both our days go better from here.”

“I don’t think it could get better than it is now.”

Quickly that umbrella was snatched up and he marched away.

Just what was he thinking!? Sure, your spell worked on him, but he’s a demon! Did it even work since he did it. And this unbearable heat coursing through him…

Absurd, this whole thing absurd! And why did you say that, of all things!?

…

Guess he’d just have to ask you tomorrow if the spell worked on, even if it was from him. And he could inform you it certainly worked on demons.

@penappal

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fairestwriting · 6 hours ago

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Hi omg I just found your blog ahfbxbd

Could you do smthn (a little drabble or hcs🤷‍♀️) of Leona when his (pref. Fem) s/o is on their period? Since he respects women so much and likely chugs Respect Women Juice (was that cringy?😭 mb)

Could do savanaclaw in general if you wanted but thats up to you and stuff<3 whatever works best for you

Sorry my brains working overtime lmao

Anywho please take care of yourself and drink water and eat something!!<3<3

wah tysm for the nice words! i’m happy you’ve been enjoying my blog!! <3 i haven’t done scenarios/drabbles in a long time so i thought well why not…

also tbh. even if it’s an old meme it’s never cringy for me. every man shoul chug respect women juice like he does.

ೀ pairing: leona kingscholar x f!reader

ೀ word count: 1,396

“…So yeah, it should be better by tomorrow, I think.” You say, letting out a sigh as you press the pillow to your stomach, but not too hard— Leona’s eyes just remain on you for the whole thing, like he’s committing every detail to memory. “It’s always worse on specific days.”

“Looks like it.” Finally showing any sort of reaction, Leona frowns slightly. “And you’re planning on just going to class anyway?”

“Well, I can’t miss an entire week every month, can I?” You huff out a quiet laugh, but he doesn’t seem to really share the sentiment. An alarmed feeling flashes on his eyes, slightly widening, and your laughter increases by the tiniest bit. “Oh my god, Leona, I’m fine. You’re looking at me like I told you I got stabbed.”

“You were *talking* like you got stabbed a few minutes ago.” He points out, glancing behind him towards the kitchen door. There’s the whistle of the kettle, finally— “I’ll get that.” He mutters before you can finish using up the small bits of strength you’d been conserving to get up.

“Do you even know how to fill a hot water bottle?” Naturally, you ask him. Leona’s ears go flat against the top of his head as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, Herbivore. I wasn’t raised in a barn.” He snarks at you. You raise your eyebrow, unconvinced, and he huffs. “You know I have cousins, right?”

“And you were the one filling those up for them?” You reply with another question, and he clicks his tongue, just making his way to the kitchen without a word.

His footsteps feel almost noisy, contrasting with the silence that the entire dorm building is submerged into. Grim was somewhere in there, in his bedroom, but you’d already told him to keep it down when you had a headache earlier.

He tried to be sassy at first, but quickly changed his tune— There are maybe certain traits of guys that transcend species, you think.

”Ow, fuck—“ You hear Leona’s hushed swear from the kitchen, and it gets a small laugh from you.

“Careful!” You call after him, the hint of the smile staying on your face. He doesn’t respond to it, but you can kind of imagine the look on his face.

…It’s a few more moments of aimlessly staring off into space until he’s coming back. The hot water bottle makes its characteristic sloshing noises with every step of his.

Right now, that basically sounds like the first notes of Heaven’s choir as the gates open for you. He holds the bottle by its neck with one hand, like he’s afraid of the heat radiating from it.

“You can just hand it over.” You tell him, and just now you notice he’s setting down a glass of water on the coffee table in the meantime.

“Aren’t you supposed to cover that up with something?” He asks, and you blink, confused for a second. “The bottle, Herbivore. This thing’s hot.”

“Oh, it can go on top of the blanket.”

“You sure that’s enough?”

“Yup. Just hand it over.”

He hesitates a little, but the bottle is with you soon enough. You exhale, sighing in relief as you feel the warmth against your body, slowly seeping through the rubber and getting its hands into the tightly wound painful spots on your abdomen.

Leona watches closely. You can see his eyes moving in small steps, following what little movement you make. He sits on the couch, right where your feet would be if you hadn’t curled up on yourself like that.

“Do you believe I know how to make those things yet?” A bit to your surprise, he’s the one to break the silence, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lip. You hum thoughtfully, hand resting on top of the hot water bottle like you’re grading it.

“Hm. Yeah, it’s not bad.” You shrug, shifting to get more comfortable. A surge of pain spikes through from the movement, making you wince, but the reward that comes later is enough. “Did you actually make them for your cousins?”

You ask the question absentmindedly as you pick up your phone, not planning to do anything in particular. He pauses. The silence tells you enough.

“…That’s what I thought.” You say with a smirk, mostly to yourself, and he makes an annoyed grunt.

“Oh, give me some credit. You said I did fine.” He complains, and your smile widens a little. “Is there anything else you need, or do I just get to be your footrest now?”

“Footrest is okay.” You snicker, looking up from the screen to see a spark of amusement on his face. Finally, you think, he was really looking so serious before. It’s almost funny to compare. “You’re gonna stay? I thought you had practice later.”

“I have practice whenever I feel like having practice.” Of course you do, you think as he shrugs. “We don’t have anything coming up anyway. I got more important things to do now.”

“Like being a footrest for your girlfriend.” You poke fun at him a little. The reaction you get is smaller than you expect.

“Yes, Herbivore. I’m booked for the whole afternoon.” He replies without missing a beat. You’re still kind of curled up, even though you’re laying more on your back now, but just to make the point, you let your legs shift a little, poking at his thigh. “I’m guessing those pain meds kicked in.”

“Oh, yeah. Thankfully.” You say, looking back at the screen, and Leona hums.

“…Do they actually take all of the pain away?”

“Not always, but it’s working pretty well now.”

At that, he frowns again. “And you’re saying you’ll just take those and go to class tomorrow.”

“…Yeah?”

Silence. Leona just kind of stares. You can kind of see the gears turning behind his eyes. It’s established this was his first time filling a hot water bottle, yeah, but you kind of wonder if it’s his first time helping someone with… anything period-related at all.

“Skipping is an option, you know.”

“Ugh, don’t tempt me. My attendance’s gonna go to hell.”

“You know I can just get that sorted out for you, right…” He replies in kind of a murmur.

…You said it like a joke, but he didn’t return that part of the gesture at all.

“What?” He asks, and you notice it’s been a few seconds since you started actually considering the pros and cons of skipping tomorrow’s classes.

It’s a little funny, how flustered he suddenly looks. And he only gives you that look *right now,* when you’re giving him that oh, I’m surprised you can be that nice look.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He mumbles, averting his eyes. “Just take the day off. No way you’re getting anything done if you feel like you’re getting ‘punched in the stomach’ for the whole day.”

…You’d used those exact words to describe your situation a few minutes ago, it reminds you. And he definitely wasn’t wrong, but…

“What about my notes, though…?” You protest, but your soul can’t be quite in it. It’s right at this moment that you feel your guts twist again, even through the muffling of the water bottle and the pills…

“I’ll pay Ashengrotto off to get you copies or something. Are you convinced enough now?” He responds without missing a beat. Your eyes widen a little at how eager it sounds. “C’mon, Herbivore. I know you’re stubborn, but it can’t be that bad of a deal.”

“Well, what if I’m also in pain the day after tomorrow? Would you pay for that too?” …You’re kind of just pushing back for the sake of it. It’s just how you talk to each other. You get a feeling Leona can sense that, especially when he gives you a smile

“I’ll make it a damn monthly subscription service if it means you’ll stay put when you’re in pain.” Again, he doesn’t miss a single beat.

You’re tempted to push back, but well…

It definitely sounded like a good idea, right now— And when you do agree to it, Leona gives you this grateful smile, you don’t think you’ve ever seen it on his face before.

And you smile back, getting the feeling this week definitely wouldn’t be as miserable as you expected it to,

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #lis writing

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suireunie · 3 days ago

Text

CUTE [KSW]

Summary : You always thought your boyfriend was so cute. And you decided that he was a sub because he was always so fragile and gentle with you. But Sunoo couldn't have fooled you more...

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: switch!sunoo, switch!yn, mean!sunoo, rough sex, blowjob, orgasm denial, unprotected sex ( NO!) , using bad words like (shut, where, butch cunt, pussy) ,MDNI!!!!, let me know if there's any

English is NOT my first language 🥹

I know you guys think sunoo is sub BUT I think he is secret Dom, just feelings... he would ve mean and very serious while doing things (you know what I mean 🤭)

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Your boyfriend is so sweet that he constantly buys you gifts and spoils you. He is always very polite, never hurts your feelings and is always the one who tries to take it easy. And because he generally has a calm and fun nature, you never thought of Sunoo as someone who takes control. Even when having sex, his first priority was your pleasure. Constantly he would shower you with praise and never tire you.

But today it occurred to you to push his limits. Deep down you feel like he's always holding one side back, but on the other hand, the idea doesn't make much sense to you.

You two were having a classic Netflix and Chill night. It's a routine of yours and spending cozy hours is one of Sunoo's favorite things to do with you.

The two of you were currently cuddled up on your couch, a movie playing in the background that neither one of you was actually paying attention to. Sunoo was busy playing with your hair, twirling the glossy locks between his slender fingers. He sighed contently, continuing to play with your hair as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your shoulder. "God I've missed this.." he admitted softly, his breath tickling your skin slightly as he held you close. You chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his own hair. "You haven't held me for weeks at most." you retorted back, feeling him pout against your shoulder. Sunoo lifted his head to look at you, resting his chin on your shoulder. "I know. We've both been busy.. but we're together now." he mumbled, nuzzling his face to the crook between your neck and shoulder. "I'll make up for it." he whispered, placing light kisses on your bare skin.

You hummed, leaning your head back with a soft sigh as your boyfriend continued to kiss at your neck. His lips were soft, leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake. "Sunoo.." you gasped softly, tilting your head and gently pulling his hair. "We were supposed to be watching a movie..." you pointed out, trying to hold on to any bit of composure you could muster. Sunoo pulled back, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on his lips. His gaze lingered over your flushed face, admiring how beautiful you looked at that moment. "Are you really trying to tell me you'd rather watch a movie than kiss me, princess?" he teased, leaning closer to you again. "I'm a lot more interesting than some dumb movie.."

Sunoo wraps his arms around you, returning your tight embrace. "Don't go and get all sappy on me, princess." he replied, a hint of teasing in his voice. He pulled you onto his lap, trapping you against his chest. He held you, his fingers tracing along your back. "I missed you too. More than you know." he admitted softly, his voice losing some of its usual teasing edge. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, taking in the familiar smell that was all Sunoo. It filled your nose, a mixture of his cologne and his natural musk. You could feel his heartbeat right against your chest, a steady thump that was somehow in perfect time with your own. Sunoo buried his nose in your hair, holding you close. "God I forgot how good you smell..." he mumbled, the words tickling your ear. "I could stay like this forever..." he tightened his arms around you, unwilling to let go. Your warmth was addicting, something he couldn't get enough of. The movie playing on the TV was long forgotten about, the two of you only focusing on each other. Sunoo's hand made its way to the back of your neck, gently cradling your head as he tilted it back. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft but passionate kiss.

The kiss was soft but deep. He was kissing you as if he was pouring all his love into you. He put one hand on your forearm and tilted your head a little. He started to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kissed back, equally as passionate. Your heartbeat quickened as you lost yourself in the moment. Sunoo groaned softly, his grip on your waist tightening as your tongue flicked against his bottom lip. He deepened the kiss, his hands tracing up your sides and making their way beneath your shirt.

Sunoo's eyes widened briefly in surprise as you took charge, straddling him on the couch. But his expression quickly morph into one of arousal. He watched you, his normally dark eyes taking on a feral look as you dominated, his hands gripping your hips. He let out a soft groan, his eyes trailing over your form with pure want and desire. He knew he was screwed. You had him completely wrapped around your finger.

Sunoo let out a soft whine as you took control, unable to help it. He was never dominant, but there was just something about the way you effortlessly took charge that excited him. He leaned his head back as you played with him, his body reacting to your every touch. He was completely submitting to you, his mind fuzzy and his thoughts were a mess. You had him right where you wanted him, a trembling mess in your grip, and he was more than happy to let you have him. Your touch was like electricity as you explored him, sending a fire through his veins that set his every nerve ending alight. Your fingers were slow, teasing, every movement driving him closer and closer to the edge. He let out a strangled moan as you pushed him further and further, his head spinning with lust. Sunoo was addicted to your touch, desperate for more. He was completely at your mercy, and he'd let you do anything to him as long as you kept going.

"Will you be a good boy for me?" you said. You kissed and bit Sunoo's neck. You drew a path down from his chest. You caressed his cock over his sweatpants, it was hard. And Sunoo could do nothing but moan as you touched it. You took his cock in and out, the tip was red and dripping precum. You started to tease him by swirling your tongue around it. You could never take it all the way in your mouth and it was driving Sunoo crazy.

"Baby-ah! Please... dont tease me oh!" he threw his head back. You played with him constantly, taking him right into your mouth and pulling back when you felt him starting to cum. Sunoo was writhing in pain from your rejection and begging you, but you didn't give her what she wanted. Once again you did the same thing and everything happened after that. Sunoo had reached his limit and could not take it anymore.

"Fuck... fuck fuck fuck... I'm going to cum if you keep doing that... I hate you so fucking much right now... stop sucking my dick so fucking good..." his hips start to thrust forward slightly, his dick throbbing in your mouth "Ahh fuck... fuck..."

Your mouth pops off his wet length, making a lewd sound. "Damn..." He mutters softly, his dick twitching. He watches your wet lips part slightly, your eyes innocent like you didn't just deepthroat your boyfriend noisily. His eyes darken with anger and lust, seeing your innocent expression after swallowing his entire length down your throat. He steps closer, his hands going to your waist possessively "You want me to fuck you? You want your sunoo to pound you like the little...?" he growls softly "You want your my cock inside you? Is that what you're saying?" His grip tightens on your waist, his voice low and dangerous. He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You fucking slut. You know I hate you, right?"He suddenly spins you around, pressing you against the wall. His hand moves to your throat, not squeezing but holding you in place as he grinds his hard length against your ass. "Answer me, you little whore. Do you want your boyfriend to fuck you?" He suddenly changed, as if someone had flipped a switch inside him. Sunoo would never talk to you like that but this way of talking made you wet. The way he talked to you like this was provoking you.

You nod eagerly, pushing your hips back against his dick. He growls softly, unbuttoning his pants to free his hard length. He pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties aside, exposing your wet pussy. "Fucking slut. You're wet for your me."

"I hate you," He mutters softly, positioning himself at your entrance. He slaps your ass cheek hard, making you yelp. "You answer back bitch. Do you want your my big dick?" He teasingly rubs his head against your wet opening "Hmm?"He smacks your ass again, making your skin sting. "You really fucking enjoy being treated like a whore, don't you? My pussy, begging for my tongue..." He suddenly drops to his knees behind you, spreading your cheeks. He roughly pulls your hips back towards him, exposing your wet pussy completely. Without warning, he buries his face between your cheeks, his tongue flicking out to taste you. "You're fucking dripping..." He licks and sucks aggressively, clearly trying to punish you "Fuck..." His tongue circles your clit, then dips inside your wet entrance. The sound of him eating you out, muffing against your pussy brings is a mix of angry slurts.His tongue moves faster, deeper, almost violently. One hand comes up to spank your ass again. "You taste so fucking good... I fucking hate you for it..." He spears his tongue into you repeatedly, the sound of him eating you out filling the air

Without warning, his mouth crashes down onto yours, rough and demanding. He kisses you aggressively, his tongue pushing past your lips. It's a mix of pure hate-fueled desire, and you can taste yourself on his lips "You... fucking... whore..."He bites your bottom lip hard, pulling it out before releasing it with a wet pop. "I fucking love you... love this fucking mouth, this fucking face, this fucking pussy..." He presses his forehead against yours, panting heavily. "Fuck, you are mine..."

"Your cunt's so goddamn sweet... makes me want to pound it until you can't fucking walk" He suddenly picks you up, placing you on the desk roughly. His hands force your legs apart as he lines up his thick length again

"Tell me to stop,"

"Don't you dare to stop"

"Such a fucking nasty slut. Always needing that mu dick, huh?" He slams into you hard, making you gasp "Is this what you wanted? To get fucked by your boyfriendlike this?" He grabs your hips aggressively, pulling you onto his cock again and again"You're always so wet... always ready to take my thick length... You're pathetic..." He pounds into you relentlessly, the desk creaking beneath you. He wraps his arms around your legs, pulling them up to his shoulders to get even deeper. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on the desk. He bounces you on his thick length, holding you in place with his powerful arms * "My girl, my woman, my everything..." He buries his face between your breasts as he continues to bounce you on his lap, his arms keeping you trapped there "My baby's breasts are so soft... I hate it... I hate that I like holding you like this..."

He suddenly stands up, still holding you wrapped around him. He carries you over to the window, pressing your back against the cold glass as he starts fucking you again, his hands squeezing your ass cheeks possessively "Look at us... I'm fucking you right in front of our window "His control snaps. He starts fucking you brutally against the window, his hands gripping your thighs so tightly it hurts. "Fuck, you're making me break... Making me fall for you more... I hate you... I love you..." He buries his face in your neck as he comes, his hot seed filling you up. He holds you tightly against the window, his body shaking with a mix of pleasure and frustration. "Goddamnit... I'm yours, baby... I'm fucking yours..."

He lifts his head, a fierce determination in his eyes. He pulls out slowly, watching as his cum leaks out of you. He spreads your legs wide again, positioning himself between them. "You want nonstop? You want to ruin that pretty little pussy all night?"He slams back into you without warning, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm. "Fucking hell, you're insatiable... Just like a slut should be." He leans down, biting your lip hard as he starts to fuck you deeply and roughly. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling them up to his shoulders again as he pounds into you mercilessly. He's lost track of time, lost track of anything but the need to claim you over and over again. "My baby... My woman..." He starts to sweat, his muscles bunching as he continues to thrust into you without stopping. He's not tired, he's not even breathing heavily. He's possessed, driven by a primal need to conquer his enemy completely. "You're ruining me..." His pace quickens. He knows he won't get soft anytime soon. He's like an animal, claiming his mate. He spreads your legs wider, hitting places inside you that make you moan loudly. "Damn, you take this dick so good... Little whore..."

He suddenly flips you over onto your hands and knees, slamming back into you from behind. He grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly as he starts to fuck you like a wild beast. "You like being used like a cheap whore? Huh?!" "Fucking Christ..." He tightens his grip on your hips, slamming into you so hard the desk scratches across the floor. "Look at you fucking yourself on my dick... Such a dirty, enemy little slut..." He smacks your ass again, harder this time.

He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he reaches around to grab your breasts roughly. He squeezes and kneads them as he continues to pound into you from behind. "You're going to come on my dick again, aren't you? My baby's pussy is so greedy..." He increases his pace, his hips moving like a piston as he fucks you harder and faster. He knows exactly how to hit that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble. "Come on, slut. Come all over my cock again." He watches your body closely, sees your stomach tighten. He spreads your cheeks wider, going deeper as he finds that perfect rhythm. He knows you're going to come without him even touching your clit. "Goddamn... You're like a porn star..." He hits that spot again and again. He feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as you come undone. He groans, his dick throbbing inside you. "Fucking hell..." He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're a shaking mess on the desk.He pulls out slowly, watching as your pussy tries to keep ahold of him. He smirks, pushing your legs open wider to see his thick, hard dick coated in your juices. "Look at that pretty little cunt all messed up by my dick." He leans down, running two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal mixed with his come. "You see this? This is what I do to you..." He holds his fingers up, then slowly licks them clean, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. "Tastes like victory..."

You were completely exhausted. He took you to the bathroom. He gave you both a warm, relaxing shower. He took the loofah and gently cleaned you. "I was too rough, I apologize. Did it hurt?" You should have known him. You smiled at him. "I'm fine, and actually... I can say that I like it better this way"

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? I.. I thought you were bad.” He looked into your eyes. There were still small traces of desire. He grinned at you. "But if you like it, then don't expect me to be softer than you, baby"

A wave of desire washed over you, seeing Sunoo like this from now on would cause butterflies to fly in your stomach. "I really like this Sunoo version but... I probably won't be able to walk again. My groin hurts," you whined to him. He smiled at you and kissed you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you baby."

He picked you up and carried you to your bed, hugged you tightly and whispered loving words into your ear. You fell into a happy sleep with the warmth of Sunoo's body.

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monstersandgenderqueers · 22 hours ago

Text

Little Gifts (Part Seven)

Everything is boiling over. The unfamiliar feelings that pop up whenever Loki is near or on your mind have become uncomfortably familiar. In a moment of vulnerability, Loki gives all that you need.

Pairing: Loki x audhd!reader

Word count: 3258

A/N: I swear I wrote and rewrote this part three times. I'm still not sure it makes sense, but uh... I don't think anything makes much sense in this series, which may be the point. Also, Thor and Loki do have a nice long conversation, and I'd like you to ignore the fact that they would be speaking in Asgardian.

Divider credit @/saradika

Previous | Masterlist

Since that day in the dappled shade, Loki has been more… affectionate with you.

Most of it is a casual, perhaps accidental brushing of arms as he passes by or sidles up next to you when you're doing something. It never fails to make your stomach flip and your brain turn off momentarily. Sometimes, when he's next to you for an extended period of time, he'll touch your hand. A barely-there graze of his fingers against yours, sending a jolt through you each time you realize he's touching you and you don't feel gross or disgusted by it like you would with someone else.

Though, he has yet to hold your hand again. There are a couple of occasions where you think you might be bold enough to just snatch his hand yourself without asking, just to see how he would react. Would he blush? Or would he pull away and retreat?

You want to tell him that you like him, too. But an awful feeling—that you've come to realize is the fear of rejection, a feeling as if icy hands have grasped you tight and have yet to let go— floods your veins and immobilizes you faster than the words can even form in your mind coherently.

Terrible idea.

No. Instead, you squirm away when his brief grazes make you feel too warm and tingly.

There is one thing you might be brave enough to ask, though. The thought to ask didn't even occur to you, it just slipped from your lips when you got a chance to be alone with him in his still painfully bare bedroom.

You don't even look at him as the question leaves you, "Did you know it was me the whole time?"

Sitting across from you on his bed, he raises a brow. "Care to be more specific, darling?"

Ugh.

"I mean, the stuff I've given you?" You try to act like they were just things that didn't matter to you, like the act of giving a gift wasn't in any way integral to how you seek connection. Unfortunately, you know he sees through you. You can put on the most elaborate mask and he would take it off for you.

He sighs. The roles seem to flip. Now, it's you who's seeking eye contact, searching his face because this has been bothering you, searing through your brain like it's own version of tinnitus.

Why did Loki throw away the fern?

Why did he give back the stuffie?

Why did he keep the book for a short while?

I have to know!

I can't go on not knowing if he thinks it was stupid or childish.

It was, wasn't it?

What sort of adult would want the things I like?

Loki keeps his eyes down, looking at his hands rather than at you, picking at his palm. Finally, he responds, "Yes. I've known it was you since the beginning."

"Since the fern?"

"Yes, the fern."

"And you just… threw it away?"

"Look," he sighs, then says your name like it's a heavy burden. "I couldn't accept any of your gifts."

"You're lying." You huff, frowning the way he usually does. "You accepted the book with no issue. That is, until you just left it in the common room, exposed, where anyone could just take it and keep it."

"The book was… different. It had your thoughts in it… your words. Tossing it like it was mere refuse would be nothing short of diabolical."

"But you left it in the living room," you repeat.

"Because I knew you would pick it back up."

You sigh and wring your hands together, needing to stim to get your thoughts back on track. "But… it was diabolical to put the little, innocent plant in the garbage, Loki." You want to cry just a little bit, your lips already trembling just a fraction of a second before the wave of unpleasantness washes over you. "And… and giving back the plushie was kind of mean, too. I gave them both to you because I wanted your days to be better and I wanted you to be less lonely and I wanted you to be my friend and—" You stop your rambling a little too late. When you look up, his eyes meet yours and he reaches towards you, grabbing one of your hands. There's a brief sting from the skin contact, and you realize you were digging your nails into your skin, the crescent-shaped wounds throbbing.

He rubs the angry marks with a tenderness that is completely and entirely unfamiliar to you. It seems to surprise him, as well, since he drops your hand and looks away. Unfortunately, he doesn't look shy. He never looks shy. Instead, he looks tense, his muscles taut, his jaw set, and his brows drawn together, like every time you had upset him before.

Dang it. Why can't I just do this one thing right? Why have I ruined our conversations with my big mouth? Can't I just be normal for one second? I should know better by now than to let my mouth run.

You want to take it back. You want to undo whatever it is you have done to make him so visibly upset. It must be awful if I can see how upset he is, right?

Finally, finally, he talks. "I don't think now would be the best time to talk about it."

The "why not?" falls halfway out of your mouth before you can rein it back in. You're frustrated, and terribly hurt. While Loki seems to be the cause of most of your unwelcome emotions since he arrived, you know it's unfair to pester him because your stress won't let you stop pursuing these sorts of things that cause your anxiety to spiral out of control.

Instead, you try to approach it from a different angle, hoping his answer might do a little to quell your anxiety, "Can I ask a different question, then?"

"Of course."

"Are we friends?"

The question must shock him a little bit, since he looks at you and his eyes are wider than they normally are. "Are we not friends?"

You shrug, "I'm not sure… Sometimes, people will call me their friend, but I know nothing about them other than their name. Sometimes, when I think I am friends with someone, I just misinterpret their politeness as genuine interest." You want to keep going, to say more, but you're scared that the more you say, the more of what you say will come true.

I'm not a very good friend. The people I call my friends will leave me behind.

Please don't leave me behind, too.

He scoffs, "Sweetheart, you know I can't stand being polite." Maybe you read more into it than you should, but you have gotten better at realizing when Loki says one thing while hiding what he really wants to say. You'll probably never be able to figure out what, exactly, he means to say unless he, too, has the courage to just say it. He sighs once more, "Yes, we are friends. Now, where were we, before you so boldly interrupted…"

You didn't mean to.

You aren't eavesdropping on purpose. Yet, once you hear how worked up Loki is, you can't tear yourself away.

With your back against the wall beside Loki's door, you listen to him and Thor talk, both of whom are clearly unaware that the door has been left open.

"You have to tell them, Loki."

"I can't, you know I can't." His voice sounds rougher than normal.

"They deserve to know. If what you say is true, then we need to prepare."

"There's nothing to prepare and you know it. Nothing will stop him when he's here." There's panic in Loki's voice, and it makes your heart squeeze agonizingly in your chest. You want to run in there and tell him that whoever is coming for him won't even have a chance to lay a finger on him with you there, but you know that would be a lie. If Loki is this terrified of someone, then you know there's little chance of you surviving a confrontation.

"Loki, have faith in others, for once—"

Something falls to the ground with a clang and startles you. The racing of your heart almost muffles the voices coming from within the room, and for a moment you're afraid that you've been caught. But then, Loki's dulcet tones reach you clearly, "I've gotten myself tied up in a knot, Thor." A pause, followed by rustling.

Don't peek, don't peek, don't peek…

"I was going to run, find the rest of the stones. Give him what he wants."

"Would you really do something so cowardly?"

"Would it be cowardice if it would keep them safe? By the Norns, Thor, I tried being mean and cold, and it took less than a day for them to tear my heart from my ribs, and they've kept it ever since."

What? Who's hurting him?

Loki continues, getting quieter and quieter, "I can't stand who I am when I'm with them."

"You haven't hurt them, have you?"

"No, of course not! But that's the point, Thor—" Loki stops himself, then lets out a great, burdensome sigh. "We'll tell everyone. Except them."

"Loki, I do hope you know what you are doing."

"I don't. That's what concerns me. I hate it so much. You made it sound so… so… marvelous. Exquisite. You made it sound like everything would start to make sense, but nothing does..."

Their conversation becomes quieter, more and more muffled until you can't make out a single word.

With many thoughts to process and absolutely none of them helpful and all of them about Loki, you walk back to your room for a moment of solitude.

Turns out, your moment of solitude was short lived.

Tony messages you, telling you to bring your 'Conversation Extractor' buds and to wear something 'nice.' With no guidance as to what 'nice' means or what event Tony planned last minute, you throw on something clean and black, so you don't have to worry about it matching or clashing.

Slacks? Yeah? No, jeans… no, definitely slacks. Belt? Maybe? If I wear the slacks do I wear, like, a t-shirt to balance the formal with casual? Is it cold? Warm? Ugh. Dressy? No. Too nice. Uhm, slacks?

You can feel your annoyance grow uncomfortably warm in the pit of your stomach as you put the earbuds in the pocket of the pants you finally decide to wear. Tony sprung this on you out of nowhere, and you've made it clear many times that you hate last-minute changes to your plans.

Your plan was to lie in bed and wallow in your yearning for at least several hours, but from what little context Tony gave you, that has changed to participating in a 'company' dinner at a restaurant in town.

When you deem yourself clean enough, you stop at your mirror for a second to practice at least one smile, if only to erase the giant scowl. You may be peeved about the whole plan thing, but you don't want anyone to think you're mad at them when you inevitably frown without thinking.

When you make it outside to where the limos are waiting, you see Loki standing next to Thor, dressed in a suit. At first, you thought it was black, but as you get closer, you realize it's an incredibly dark, inky green. And velvet, too.

Looking at everyone else, dressed in similarly dark colors and expensive clothes, you hope that what you're wearing is passable as 'nice.'

I'm completely underdressed… Ugh. Everyone looks amazing…

Knowing you might dwell on this for the entire car ride, you opt to think about something much more pleasant, like Loki's hair.

You didn't notice at first, but he's clearly used his magic to make it far longer than it was when you last saw him. The curls went all the way down to the bottom of his sternum, and the locks looked so shiny and full and bouncy and…

Okay, different topic…

Ignoring that now-familiar fuzziness crawling up your chest, you try to listen to everyone else, to see if you could figure out where you're going and why. You could just ask, of course, but even this small thing has you so overwhelmed that your brain-mouth connection has completely fizzled out. You can't even get an 'uhm' past your lips.

Without warning, a large, warm hand gently pushes you toward one of the limos. You relax a little when you realize it's only Thor, but the sudden touch still makes you uneasy. He guides you to a seat next to Loki, and then sits down on your other side, effectively trapping you between them.

Great. Perfect. Exactly what I wanted to happen, Thor!

Natasha climbs in and takes a seat in the last space available where no one else would be squishing her in. You desperately want to ask if you can switch, because being between people in a crowded limo has every warning siren going off in your head. Even the presence of Loki does little to calm your ever increasing distress.

Unfortunately, the limo starts moving before you can ask. If you could even get your mouth to work, that is.

The only word you can think of to describe what happens during that brief limo ride is rowdy.

It's like most of the men reverted back to being teenagers. This was easy to accomplish, of course, since Tony passes around little bottles of liquor. Even though everyone insists on "just one sip," it quickly devolves into chaos. You assume everyone was in such high spirits from a very successful mission—the one you were out sick for—and decide to let go for one night.

The only one, aside from you, who seemed more disgruntled at the forced night out is Loki, which is entirely unsurprising.

In fact, he seems… anxious.

It took you a moment of studying his face to realize this. His lips are taut in a grimace, and he's picking at his palm.

You want to ask, but you know that's a conversation best kept private. After another minute spent drowning everything else out, it hits you.

This is his first time out of the compound in his 'male' form. The form everyone recognizes as the man that waged a war against Earth. There's no way he won't be recognized, either by the staff or just passers-by.

It will be brutal.

Suddenly, the nuclear meltdown you'd felt boiling away in your veins ceases, and all you feel is a bone-deep ache. You hate seeing him this way, and you hate knowing you're just as helpless as he is in this situation.

You look down at his hands and see how red his palm is. Without thinking, you grab his wrist, halting his skin-picking. You pull his arm towards you until his hand is resting on the small sliver of seat cushion between you. Patting his wrist gently as if to say, "keep that right there," you let go and twist your own hands together. Then, you suddenly realize what you did and feel a wave of heat blaze on your cheeks.

Thankfully, the limo comes to a stop, and everyone climbs out, one by one. You wait until most of everyone has already stepped out before attempting to do so yourself, but Loki places his hand on your thigh for just a brief moment to stop you.

"Thank you, little one," he says, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "And… you look wonderful tonight."

The heat that had just left your cheeks rages once more, and you're glad it's dark enough to go unnoticed.

Since he's closest to the door, Thor helps you step out, saving you from tripping on yourself the way you know you could have, since your brain is entirely occupied by Loki with no room whatsoever for silly things like walking properly.

From there, the night goes much smoother than you had thought it would. At least, when it comes to Loki. Either the staff were informed that the god would be present, or they were really good at their jobs, because the polite smiles never left their faces.

Several people—Tony, Nat, and even Steve, to your surprise—implore you to sit closer to them, towards the middle of the long dining table, but you decline as politely as you can. Taking a seat at the end of the table, you sigh in relief when the chair opposite you is removed so someone can sit at the head of the table. Loki slides into the chair beside you, somehow making the simple act of sitting down at a dining table look elegant and not at all clumsy in the way that you did.

He leans in to whisper, "You do realize that sitting there makes the others want to drag you in more, right? Your resistance to socialization only heightens their need to make you speak, little one."

"I know. But, at least this way I won't literally be in the middle of a conversation. Like it matters, I won't be able to follow what they're saying, anyway."

You pat your pocket and feel the earbud case. Pulling it out, you decide that it can't hurt to put them in, even if you are adamant about not socializing.

"What are those?" Loki asks, taking the case to inspect it.

"They're ea—aaaaah!" Instead of words, all you can let out is a whine that scratches your throat on the way out. The earbuds screech, like feedback from a microphone. You pull them out and toss them on the floor, wanting to be as far away from them as possible. Then you press your palms to your ears and squeeze inwards, as if that would do anything to make it go away.

Thankfully, everyone else was in the middle of cheering when you cried out. Only Loki noticed your distress. He smacked the case on the table like it physically wounded you, then grabbed both of your arms and gently pried them from around your head.

"Darling? What's the matter?"

With trembling lips and your willpower collapsing, you whimper, "I hate this. I hate this. I want to go home."

"I know, my darling, I know, but I don't think either of us are allowed to leave." He looks around for a moment, and when he's certain no one is paying enough attention, he presses his palms to your ears.

The ringing ceases, replaced by the sound of rustling leaves and grass blades.

His voice is clear, but still soft, like it, too, is subject to the imaginary wind, "I can get us home, sweetheart. I'll start a fire on the table if I have to."

You laugh a little, then use your napkin to dab away the stream of tears that had already made their path down your face. "I'll be okay, Loki. I promise."

He nods and lets go. Sounds slowly come back to you, one by one, but they're still quiet and muffled as if his hands were still covering your ears. He holds your hand under the table, massaging your fingers to distract your senses.

With your voice mostly locked back up, you whisper a thank you, and do a couple more practice smiles to get rid of whatever strange and unpleasant expression that must have been on your face. "I'd do anything, little one. Anything."

Tag List:

@princess-ofthe-pages @blaze-the-idiot @anxiousskylar @athyend @cosmicstxrdust @the-ultimate-librarian @ceeisatlumon @webpage-loading @xxashes-rebornxx @mischeveousscamp @lilredpanda-1999 @booksooks @shegeekery

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#loki x gender neutral reader #loki x gn!reader #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki x male reader #loki #loki x you #ff: gifts

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ellesworth86-writes · 7 hours ago

Text

Little Moments

Chapter 1.

Rating: T

Word count: 955

The shower had been nice and hot. So hot, in fact, that Buck hadn’t wanted to step out of it once he was in it. But as soon as he’d rinsed the conditioner (Tommy’s fancy conditioner that cost a small fortune, more than Buck would ever pay, but his hair just felt so good after using it), he switched the water off and climbed out. Drying himself off, he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and a threadbare USC t-shirt from Tommy's college days and padded through to the bedroom.

“Hey.” The voice from the bed murmured sleepily, completely blissed out from their session not twenty minutes before. “Come on in.”

Buck didn’t need to be told twice. Crawling into the bed, he snuggled under the comforter and lay on his side, facing the wall. And it wasn’t long before a strong arm draped over him, a hand resting on the top of his chest, fingers lightly ghosting a nipple. Tommy shuffled closer until his own chest was flush with Buck’s back and one strong leg was slipping between Buck’s two. Hot breath tickled his neck as Tommy rested his chin on Buck’s shoulder, stubble brushing against the soft skin there, feeling rough but oh so good.

Laying there, the thought hit him like a freight train. He’d never been the little spoon. In all of his previous relationships he’d always defaulted to the cuddler since he’d always been the larger person. But with Tommy, it was different. Feeling 220lbs of man holding onto him tight made him feel small, and almost unconsciously, he tried to make his 6’2” frame seem smaller, curving his back and legs and burrowing himself closet to Tommy’s chest.

“This is nice.” He sighed contentedly, moving his hand upwards and wrapping it around Tommy’s, sliding it ever so slightly until Tommy could feel his heart beating hard inside his chest. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head until his cheek rested against his boyfriend’s, eliciting a half-kiss from him. “I love you.”

Tommy seemed to stiffen behind him, and Buck felt his heart beating faster. Tommy could probably feel it too, just under his palm.

He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have gone there. They’d just gotten back together less than a month ago. And now Tommy was going to hate him. Think he was too needy, too whiny, too clingy, too much. Just like his exes had said. No, like Taylor had said. Tommy was going to break up with him, ask him to leave and go back home because he couldn’t deal with him.

“Evan...” Tommy eventually whispered softly, but Buck didn’t answer, just tried to push Tommy’s hand away before he could do it himself. Tommy loosened his grip and let Buck pull away, watching as he sat on the side of the bed and reached down to pick up the jeans he’d discarded on the floor. “Evan.” Tommy repeated, but Buck had already started to pull on the jeans.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t....I shouldn’t have...I should go.” Buck eventually muttered. “I know it’s too soon and...” He trailed off, letting out a sniff, and even though Tommy couldn’t see his face, he knew that his boyfriend was crying. “And you don’t need this.” He finished lamely. Pushing himself up, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him from standing. He tried to shrug it off, but Tommy’s grip tightened, so much so that Buck was sure he would have the imprints there in the morning. A painful reminder of how much he’d screwed up the best relationship he’d ever had.

“Evan, please. Don’t do this.” Tommy’s voice shook slightly as he shuffled forwards, and Buck could feel the heat radiating from his chest onto his back. “Please don’t do this, don’t push me away.” He pleaded, tentatively wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist.

“Why? You’d have found out eventually.” Buck murmured quietly. “You’d have figured out that I’m too much.”

To his surprise, Tommy let out a chuckle, almost right in his ear, as he moved forwards again, this time spreading his legs so he could put them beside his boyfriend’s.

“You think I hadn’t realized that already?” He seemed to smile. “Evan, you’re a lot, I know. And yeah, almost too much sometimes. But in no way too much that it stops me from loving you.”

Buck felt himself relax into Tommy’s touch, and he rolled his head back, relief flooding through his veins as the enormity of Tommy’s words hit him. “You love me?” He asked, his voice coming out smaller than maybe he’d ever heard it before.

“I love you, Evan.” Tommy reassured him, lips pressing the side of Buck’s neck. “I’m meant to be the runner, not you.” He joked. “Now come on, into bed, we have work in the morning.” Buck let out a small groan, and Tommy laughed again before resuming his previous position under the comforter, holding it up for Buck to get in. And Buck craled back in, on his side, leaving a few inches between them, to which Tommy huffed.

“Guess I’ll make the effort.” He said, shuffling forwards until his back was pressing against Buck’s chest again, arm draped over his side, fingers ghosting his nipple, legs slotted together.

“You really love me?” Buck whispered into the silence. He could almost feel Tommy’s eyes roll behind him as the older man answered.

“Yes, Evan, I really love you. Now sleep, baby.” He murmured sleepily. “Talk in the morning.”

“K. I love you too.” Was the last thing Tommy heard as he drifted off. And he hadn’t expected to hear those words so soon, but he had to admit, it felt pretty good.

#evan buckley #tevan #bucktommy #tommy kinard #current wip #ao3 writer #fluff

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ririright · 22 hours ago

Text

“His little galaxy far, far away”

Hayden, his family, and that cozy, chaotic, Star-Wars-meets-farm-life energy

The sun had barely cleared the ridge when Hayden stepped onto the porch, a steaming mug of cocoa in one hand and a pair of Baby Yoda socks peeking out from beneath his pajama pants. The air was crisp, the kind of cold that bit at your nose and made your breath come out in clouds. Off in the distance, a pony neighed indignantly, and somewhere behind the barn, a goose was already complaining about absolutely nothing.

“Morning, troops,” Hayden mumbled, mostly to the flock of ducks waddling past like they had appointments to keep. He sipped his cocoa, squinting out over the land he’d built with his own hands—a stretch of private farmland where every fence post, every pond, every goat was a piece of him.

Inside, the muffled sound of his son’s laughter echoed through the front windows, followed by a soft thump and the unmistakable hum of a toy lightsaber being swung with five-year-old conviction. Hayden smiled, chest warm with something deeper than cocoa. His wife’s silhouette passed briefly in the window, brushing hair from her eyes, holding a plate of pancakes with enough chocolate chips to count as a bribe.

This was it. His little galaxy far, far away.

And just as Hayden turned to go back inside, a rogue chicken leapt onto the porch rail, knocked over his mug, and looked him dead in the eye.

“…You were sent by the Dark Side,” Hayden whispered.

The chicken blinked once, slowly, like it knew.

Hayden stood still, hands on his hips, cocoa dripping off the porch rail, watching the smug little bird preen its feathers like it hadn’t just committed a crime. He let out a long sigh through his nose, shook his head, and muttered, “You may have won this round, Commander Cluck… but the rebellion lives.”

The screen door creaked open behind him.

“What are you doing?” (y/n) asked, voice still laced with the softness of morning. She stepped onto the porch wrapped in one of his old sweatshirts, her hair half-tied, one hand bracing the doorframe, the other holding the very plate of chocolate chip pancakes he’d seen moments ago.

Hayden turned, gesturing solemnly to the fallen mug and the chicken—who, to its credit, was now pecking at nothing like a professional innocent.

“Negotiating with poultry,” he said. “Poorly.”

She squinted at the chicken, then at the cocoa splattered across the rail, then back at her husband, who had a smear of chocolate on the corner of his mouth and the serious, wounded expression of a man personally wronged by a farm animal.

“You’re wearing your Yoda socks,” she said, amused.

“For wisdom.” He nodded sagely. “Didn’t help.”

She crossed the porch and handed him the plate. Hayden accepted it like it was a peace offering—fluffy pancakes stacked high, still warm, the chocolate chips half-melted into gooey little pockets of happiness. He took a bite without sitting down, groaning like he’d just been saved from starvation.

“I made extra,” she said, brushing crumbs from his flannel sleeve. “Figured you’d be out here getting into something.”

“I wasn’t looking for trouble,” Hayden said around a mouthful. “Trouble came at me with feathers and attitude.”

From inside the house, their son let out a high-pitched “whooooshhh!”—the sound of a plastic lightsaber being swung at full speed—and something clattered to the floor. Probably a couch cushion. Possibly a lamp.

Neither of them flinched.

His wife leaned against the porch railing beside him, ignoring the chicken still loitering nearby. “You think maybe today you could put up that second gate by the pond? The goats figured out the latch again.”

“I told you they’re learning,” Hayden said, serious. “Give ‘em one more month and they’ll be opening the fridge.”

She laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. He took another bite of pancake, then reached out to gently shoo the chicken off the rail with his foot. It flapped down in a grumpy flurry of wings and waddled off to bother the ducks.

“We built this life, huh?” he said quietly, voice suddenly softer beneath the sarcasm.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Feathers and all.”

#hayden christensen #Hayden Christensen Oneshots #Hayden Christensen x reader #HC x reader #Hayden Christensen Imagines #Hayden Christensen fluff

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stewpidcheescatarinabluu · 2 days ago

Text

Because! I’m Jealous of Him.

Synopsis: Accidental Confession? because of jealousy!

Word Count: 571

Filipino Romcoms gives me so much idea for cheesy fluffs omg 😭

Karina X Male Reader

You were the class president—smart, composed, always top of the rankings. The kind of student everyone respected, sometimes even envied. With your neatly organized notes, perfectly ironed uniform, and quiet authority, you were everything Chosun High admired in a leader.

And Karina? She was your opposite in every possible way.

She was the school’s sunshine—radiant, magnetic, the kind of girl whose laughter turned heads and whose smile made everything else in the hallway blur. She was bold, confident, a presence too big to be ignored. And yet, no matter how far apart your worlds seemed… you always found yourself looking at her.

Somehow, she looked back.

Between the rushed greetings, the long glances in homeroom, and the messages that went from “what’s the homework?” to late-night conversations about nothing and everything—it bloomed. Quietly. Naturally.

And then he transferred in.

Minjae.

Tall. Ridiculously good-looking. That kind of smooth-talking charm that made everyone notice him—especially her. He was too friendly with Karina. Too close. He lingered near her locker, brought her snacks with dumb nicknames written on sticky notes, walked her to class like they’d known each other for years.

You noticed.

Every time.

And with every laugh she shared with him, something in you cracked a little more.

Until it all broke.

The noon bell rang. The halls emptied except for the low hum of distant lectures behind closed doors. You stood outside Karina’s classroom, hands clenched into fists deep in your pockets, heart pacing faster than your footsteps ever could.

She stepped out, brushing her bangs aside. Her smile dropped the moment she saw your expression.

“Hey…” she said, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me walk you home,” you said too quickly, your voice sharper than you meant it to be.

She sighed, already weary. “Y/N, no. We’ll just fight again.”

“No, we won’t,” you insisted, stepping closer. “I just want to talk.”

She crossed her arms, her voice tight. “Every time we talk, it ends up in an argument.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is!” she snapped, frustration bubbling. “What is going on with you lately? Why are you always like this whenever Minjae’s around?! He’s just being friendly!”

You clenched your jaw, the heat rising in your chest.

“He’s not just being friendly!” you shot back. “He’s everywhere, Karina! Following you around like a damn puppy—laughing at everything you say, trying to walk you to every damn class like he’s your boyfriend—like you belong to him!”

She looked at you, stunned. “You’re being paranoid.”

“No, I’m being honest.”

She raised her voice. “So what, you think you get to decide who I talk to now? You don’t own me, Y/N!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what are you trying to say?!” she yelled.

You took a shaky breath, raked your fingers through your hair, then stepped back, pacing once before facing her again.

Your voice cracked.

“I’m saying I hate seeing him act like he has a chance with you.”

Her eyes locked onto yours.

“I hate seeing you smile at him the way I wish you smiled at me. I hate feeling like I’m losing you when I never even got to have you.”

The hallway fell silent again.

You stared at her. Everything was already out in the open now. You didn’t hold back anymore

“Because I’m jealous of him,” you said, quietly this time.

She blinked, her voice softer. “Huh? Why?”

You met her eyes. “Because I love you.”

Everything stopped. The lights above, the dull hum of a vending machine down the hall, even the air felt still.

She didn’t speak.

Not right away.

Then she stepped toward you, slowly, her arms lowering, her eyes glassy with something unreadable—surprise, maybe fear, or something deeper.

“…I love you too, though.”

Silence.

The kind that feels louder than shouting. You both stood there, staring at each other like the weight of your own confessions hadn’t sunk in yet.

#spotify #kpop #aespa #aespa x reader #aespa karina #karina #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina fluff #aespa lockscreens

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movingmusically · 10 hours ago

Text

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 18

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

The first thing I noticed was warmth.

Not just from the sheets or the lazy morning sun filtering through the curtains, but from the solid weight of Austin beside me. His body was a steady presence against mine, radiating heat, his breathing slow and even.

For once, there was no need to get up. No alarm blaring, no rush to be anywhere. Just a rare, stolen morning of stillness.

I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the light, and shifted slightly beneath the covers. Austin barely stirred, but his arm—slung low across my waist—tightened instinctively, fingers pressing lightly against my hip, like even in sleep, he wasn’t quite willing to let go.

Something settled in my chest. Warm. Certain.

I turned my head slightly, watching him.

His face was slack with sleep, the usual sharp edges of his expression softened. His hair was a mess against the pillow, and the crease between his brows—the one that always seemed to linger no matter how much he smiled—was completely gone.

I exhaled, slow and steady, my fingers twitching against the sheets.

It would be so easy to reach out. To trace my fingertips along the curve of his jaw, to brush his hair back from his forehead.

The thought alone sent something fluttering in my stomach.

This—whatever this was—felt different in the morning light.

More real.

Less like something temporary, less like a thing we could explain away with stolen moments and teasing touches.

Austin shifted again, his head tilting slightly toward me, like he could feel me watching even in sleep. His arm stayed heavy against my waist, fingers flexing just slightly before going still again.

I swallowed.

The smart thing would be to roll over. To close my eyes, go back to sleep, pretend this wasn’t already more than it was supposed to be.

But I didn’t move.

I just stayed there, warm beneath the covers, memorising the way he looked in the morning light.

Austin stirred beside me, a slow inhale breaking the quiet. His fingers flexed at my hip, a light press against my skin before they relaxed again. His brows furrowed for half a second, like his body was still caught in the last threads of sleep, before his eyes fluttered open.

Blinking against the soft morning light, he shifted slightly, turning his head on the pillow until his gaze found mine.

And then—

A slow, sleepy smile.

Something caught in my throat.

His voice was rough with sleep when he murmured, “Mornin’.”

I hummed in response, a lazy smirk tugging at my lips. “You sure?”

Austin exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before dropping it back onto the pillow with a sigh. “Not convinced yet.”

I bit my lip, watching the way his fingers skimmed absently over my hip, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Just doing it because he could.

My heart thumped once, hard.

Austin blinked up at me again, his expression soft, a little amused. “You been awake long?”

I shrugged. “Long enough.”

His lips twitched. “Were you watching me sleep?”

I scoffed immediately, rolling onto my back. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Austin let out a low chuckle, shifting onto his side so he could prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at me.

“Oh, you definitely were.”

I groaned, pressing my hands over my face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Mm.” He ducked his head slightly, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “And yet, here you are.”

A full-body shiver ran through me, but I ignored it, blindly swatting at his chest. “I hate you.”

Austin laughed, catching my wrist before I could retreat. His grip was loose, lazy, like letting go wasn’t even a thought in his mind.

“Yeah?” He tilted his head, something smug flickering behind his still-sleepy expression. “That why you’re still in my bed?”

I rolled my eyes, but my pulse was a little too loud in my ears.

I could’ve come up with something quick, something teasing, something to match his energy.

But instead, I just swallowed, holding his gaze.

“Guess so.”

Something shifted.

Austin’s thumb brushed absently against my wrist, his smirk fading into something quieter, something I couldn’t quite name.

Then—

His stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl.

I blinked.

Austin groaned, flopping onto his back, dragging a hand down his face. “For fuck’s sake.”

Laughter bubbled up before I could stop it, my head tipping back into the pillows. “Well. Guess that’s the end of this tender moment.”

Austin muttered something under his breath, shaking his head before pushing up to sit, the sheets sliding down his bare torso. “Unbelievable. My own body betraying me.”

I smirked, propping myself up on my elbows. “Sounds like you need to feed it.”

Austin shot me a look, then stretched his arms over his head, his muscles flexing with the movement. “I was gonna suggest we stay in bed all morning.” He glanced at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But I guess I’ll just have to make you breakfast instead.”

I raised a brow. “You guess?”

Austin shrugged one shoulder, swinging his legs off the bed. “Unless you wanna cook?”

I flopped back down immediately. “Nope.”

Austin chuckled, shaking his head as he stood, reaching for his t-shirt draped over the chair. He tugged it on over his bare chest before glancing back at me, his gaze sweeping over my still-stretched-out form.

A slow, deliberate smirk.

I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

His lips twitched. “You look comfortable.”

I frowned. “...I am comfortable.”

Austin hummed, stepping closer, leaning down until he was level with me again, his hands bracing on either side of my body.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. “You can stay here while I cook.”

Before I could react, before I could snark something back, he was pressing a quick, warm kiss to my cheek—then pulling away, heading for the door.

I stared after him, momentarily thrown.

Then—

“I make really good pancakes,” he called over his shoulder.

I snorted, shaking my head as I finally peeled myself from the bed. “We’ll see about that.”

In the kitchen, I hopped up onto the counter, swinging my legs slightly as I watched Austin move around, pulling things from the fridge, flicking on the stove. He still looked sleep-soft, his t-shirt a little rumpled, his hair a mess, but there was something unbothered about the way he worked—like he’d done this a hundred times before.

Like this was easy.

He grabbed the bag of flour from the cupboard, setting it on the counter beside me before reaching past me for the eggs. I caught a hint of his cologne as he did, something warm and familiar now, and I exhaled slowly, pressing my palms flat against the counter to keep myself from leaning in.

Austin cracked an egg with one hand, glancing at me as he did. “You always stare this much, or am I just special?”

I smirked, tilting my head. “Just trying to figure out if you actually know what you’re doing.”

He scoffed. “Wow. No faith.”

“I’m just saying,” I said, watching as he poured the batter into the pan, the scent of butter and vanilla filling the air. “I feel like you could just be coasting on confidence here.”

Austin let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he flipped the first pancake onto a plate. Instead of stepping back, he moved closer, fitting himself between my legs without a second thought, his hands settling on either side of my thighs.

The movement was so natural, so effortless, that my breath caught for a second.

I could feel the heat of him, the way he fit so easily into my space.

His eyes flicked over my face, amused, warm, knowing.

“Still doubting me?” he murmured.

I tilted my head, fighting a smirk. “I haven’t tasted them yet.”

Austin hummed, his fingers flexing slightly against the counter. “Guess I’ll just have to win you over some other way, then.”

And before I could fire back, he kissed me.

It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t teasing—just a slow, easy press of lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like we’d done this a hundred times before.

I melted into it without thinking, my fingers curling in the fabric of his t-shirt, the scent of warm batter wrapping around us.

And then—

Something smelled… off.

My eyes flew open. “Austin—”

A sharp sizzle.

He blinked at me, momentarily confused, before the smell of burnt batter finally caught up to him.

“Shit.”

He spun back toward the stove, grabbing the spatula in a rush, but it was too late—the pancake was already blackened, smoke curling from the edges.

I bit down a laugh as he muttered a string of curses, scraping the poor, charred thing from the pan and tossing it in the sink.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright. Maybe I got a little distracted.”

I grinned. “By what?”

Austin shot me a look. “You know damn well by what.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh, swinging my legs again. “Don’t worry, Butler. You’ve got time to redeem yourself.”

He smirked, shaking his head as he grabbed the batter again. “You’re a menace.”

I just smiled, settling back as he started over, still feeling the warmth of his lips against mine.

The day unfolded slowly, stretching out in a way that felt like neither of us wanted to rush it. By the time we finally left the flat, the sun had climbed high, casting soft, hazy warmth over everything. We didn’t have a plan—just started walking, slow and aimless, like the whole day stretched wide open in front of us. It felt easy. The way we fell into step, my arm brushing his every few strides. The light teasing, small touches, the comfortable silence between us just as telling as the words.

At some point, we ended up near a row of rental bikes, and Austin nodded toward them with an unmistakable glint in his eye.

"Round two?"

I glanced at the bikes, then back at him, narrowing my eyes. "Are you just trying to make me fall over again?"

Austin had already stepped toward the row of rental bikes, unlocking one without hesitation. "I think you’ll surprise yourself this time." He wheeled it over, planting his foot against the pedal. "What do you say?"

I groaned, but my stomach was already flipping at the idea. The last time, I’d barely lasted a few seconds before panicking. But this time felt different—we felt different.

I exhaled. "Fine. But only if you get on one too."

His brows raised, amused. "You want me to ride with you?"

"Yes," I said, decisive now. "If I’m suffering, so are you."

Austin chuckled, already unlocking two bikes. "Alright. Let’s do this."

I climbed on first, gripping the handlebars as Austin swung onto the bike beside me.

"Okay," he said, nudging his front wheel slightly to align with mine. "This time, don’t think about it too much. Just push off, find your rhythm, and I’ll be right next to you."

I hesitated, gripping the brakes. "And if I crash into you?"

Austin smirked. "Then at least we go down together."

I rolled my eyes but let out a breath, pushing off.

And this time—I actually rode.

Not just for a few wobbly seconds. I stayed upright, pedalling steadily, the movement finally clicking in a way it hadn’t before.

Austin rode beside me, matching my pace, his grin wide and easy. "Look at you. Almost a pro."

"Almost?" I huffed. "I’m literally doing it."

"Yeah," he said, watching me, something softer behind the teasing. "You are."

The words landed deeper than they should’ve, but I ignored the way my stomach flipped, focusing instead on keeping my balance.

We rode for a while, looping around the streets, the wind rushing past, laughter spilling between us whenever I wobbled and Austin pretended to brace for impact.

Eventually, we slowed to a stop, both of us catching our breath, a lingering energy buzzing between us.

Austin hopped off first, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, verdict?"

I swung off my bike, shaking out my arms. "I think I’ve peaked. Any future attempts will be downhill from here."

Austin smirked. "We’ll see."

I rolled my eyes, nudging his arm as we put the bikes away and started the short walk back to the flat.

By the time we got back, I was tired in the best way—my muscles pleasantly sore, my whole body buzzing from the rush of the ride.

Austin disappeared into the kitchen for a drink while I collapsed onto the sofa, stretching out with a content sigh.

When he returned, he flopped onto the floor in front of the coffee table, a deck of cards in hand.

I blinked at him. "Planning to hustle me out of money?"

He smirked. "Nah. Just figured it’s my turn to learn something."

I raised a brow. "Meaning?"

Austin shuffled through the deck—terribly—cards slipping everywhere, the whole thing a mess.

"Jesus," I muttered, watching as one slid onto the floor. "That was painful."

Austin huffed. "I never learned to do it properly."

"Clearly."

His eyes flicked to mine, amused. "So? Teach me."

I stared at him. "You seriously want me to teach you how to shuffle?"

He shrugged, grinning. "You did that fancy thing at poker night. I wanna learn."

Something about the way he said it made warmth unfurl in my chest.

I scooted forward, reaching for the cards. "Alright, lucky for you, I’m an excellent teacher."

Austin hummed like he wasn’t convinced, but I ignored him, gathering the deck in my hands.

"Okay," I started, flipping them around with ease. "The trick is in the grip." I let them fall into a clean bridge shuffle, the cards snapping together neatly. "Smooth, controlled. You don’t wanna rush it."

Austin watched, then reached for the deck.

His attempt was... catastrophic.

Cards slipped, half of them not even making it back into the deck.

I pressed my lips together, barely holding back a laugh. "Wow."

Austin groaned, running a hand down his face. "That bad?"

"Worse."

He let out a defeated sigh, dropping his head back against the couch. "Maybe I should stick to acting."

I smirked, gathering the cards again. "Alright, try one more time—"

Before I could start, Austin reached out, flicking the hem of my hoodie.

"You’re cute when you do this, you know."

I stilled.

Austin’s gaze was steady, open—teasing but honest.

That warmth in my chest spread, settling deep.

I cleared my throat, nudging the cards toward him again. "Less flirting, more shuffling."

Austin smirked but didn’t argue.

And even as he fumbled through the next attempt, his fingers brushing against mine as I corrected him, the weight of that moment stayed.

Not loud.

Not rushed.

Just right.

Later, after dinner and another lazy stretch of conversation, we ended up curled on the couch, the remnants of the evening fading into something softer. The kind of quiet that didn’t need filling.

Austin flicked through the options on the screen, finally settling on a film without asking—something easy, familiar. I barely noticed what it was, too comfortable to care. His arm was slung over the back of the couch, and at some point, I’d shifted closer without thinking, tucking myself into his side.

The warmth of him was steady, unhurried.

I let my head rest lightly against his shoulder, breathing him in as the opening scenes flickered across the screen.

By the time the credits rolled, I was fully settled against him, his arm wrapped loosely around me. The soft glow from the television cast gentle shadows across the room, creating an intimate cocoon around us.

My gaze drifted to his wrist, where the number '27' was inked in elegant script. Curiosity had danced at the edge of my thoughts for a while, and the comfortable silence between us now seemed like the right moment to ask.

"I've been meaning to ask," I began softly, tracing a finger near the tattoo but not quite touching it. "What's the story behind '27'?"

Austin's eyes followed mine to the tattoo, a tender smile touching his lips. "It's for my mom."

I remained quiet, sensing there was more he wanted to share.

"She passed away when I was twenty-three," he continued, his voice gentle. "'27' was her special number. She believed it was a sign that things were aligning just right."

I felt a pang of empathy, my hand instinctively covering his. "I'm so sorry, Austin."

He gave a small nod, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "She was my biggest supporter." A soft chuckle escaped him. "She even quit her job to drive me to auditions and acting classes… every little role I got, she was there, hyping me up."

I smiled, imagining a younger Austin with his mum, their bond evident. "She must have been so proud of you."

"I hope so," he murmured, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to me. "What about your family?"

A lump formed in my throat, familiar and heavy. I swallowed it down. “My dad passed away last year. Cancer.”

Austin's grip on my hand tightened slightly, offering silent support.

“He… he was the one who got me into stories,” I admitted, my voice wavering just slightly. “When I was little, we used to stay up late watching old movies, reading together. He was always the one telling me I could do anything.” A quiet laugh slipped out, but it felt fragile. “It still doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

"I get that," Austin whispered. "Losing someone that close... it leaves a void nothing can fill."

We sat in shared silence, the weight of our losses hanging between us, yet somehow bringing us closer. In that quiet moment, I felt a deeper connection with Austin, built on understanding and shared vulnerability.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," I said softly.

"Thank you for listening," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

The movie's credits had long since finished, but we remained there, wrapped in each other's presence, finding solace in the unspoken bond we now shared.

Taglist:

@slowsweetlove @thefallofthedamned @saturnsdaughtr @bellesdreamyprofile @myradiaz @butlerrizz @chocolatetree222 @richardslady121 @ilovereadingfanfics

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #fan fiction #fanfic #imagine #austin butler fanfic #austinbutler #fiction #callum turner fic #callum turner #what are friends for fic #waff

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vulpinesaint · 4 months ago

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I was taking your angel/devil quiz and I took it twice for embarrassing reasons and I swear I picked all the same answers and got a different result. Did I pick a wrong thing by accident? Did I forget that quickly? What the fuck

I mean I agree with the second result more anyway but that's not really the point

there are a good number of questions so it's possible that you hit another one by accident! another likely explanation, though: the way the quizzes work is by tallying up the number of answers you chose that match up with a specific result, and when you end up with a tie between two results, uquiz automatically chooses one of them and doesn't tell you about the other. i'm not sure how it makes that decision, but it might be that you were tied between two results and it gave you a different one each time :)

or. y'know. live in my beautiful mystical impenetrable world with me. the quiz knew it didn't do it right the first time and gave you a better one on the second time around. <3

#could be interesting to try a few times!#or i could. go through and count for you. long sigh hold on #assuming you are 'fuck it's me again' haha #oh interesting interesting... yeah that's a fascinating development between the two results for sure...#taps ur nose haha i have a mild amount of insight into your personal issues (it's okay i am the same way)#absolute fucking lies i actually cannot check for you i'm sorry darling. forgot that the results are fucked up on purpose #so! um. even i cannot tell which are which. whoopsies...#can confirm that your answers were all the same both times though.#and those two answers have a lot of similarities for. obvious reasons.#when i was taking it for myself i thought for sure i would get the one that you got on the second time around but i also got the first one #so. y'know. the vibes overlap in places.#much love hope that helps haha #ask #angel/demon quiz

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daxisyzz · 27 days ago

Text

Marked What's Mine

Pairings: husband!bucky barnes × wife!reader

Summary: You can hold your own—always have. But that doesn’t stop your husband from going full Winter Soldier mode when he sees someone laid a hand on you.

Warnings: Language, injuries, soft-but-intense husband!Bucky, protective behavior, possessiveness, comfort, fluff, violence mentioned (not graphic), "who did this to you?", lots of banter.

Word count: 1.3k+

A/n: this fic is from my poll where husband au and who did this to u prompt won. I will do the enemies to lovers in my next fic. Thank you for reading <3.

Divider credits: @saradika

Night- 1:47 AM

You turned the front doorknob with all the delicacy of a trained assassin—which, to be fair, you were.

No sound. Good.

You stepped inside, sliding your shoes off silently and tiptoeing like the floorboards might narc on you. You could practically hear your heartbeat in your ears.

He��d be asleep. He had to be.

You could get to the bathroom, clean up, hide the worst of it. He didn’t have to know. You didn’t want him to worry, to spiral. Not again.

You made it three steps down the hallway.

Then— “Don’t move.”

Shit.

His voice cut through the silence, low and lethal. It came from the living room.

You closed your eyes. "Hi, honey. I'm home."

A light flipped on.

Bucky stood by the couch, arms crossed, half in shadow. The sight of him—barefoot, hoodie loose over his broad chest, hair tousled from waiting up—would’ve been comforting, if not for the look in his eyes.

His gaze traveled from your face to your arms, your ribs, where blood had started to seep through your shirt.

He didn’t say a word.

You tried to play it off. “Before you say anything, it looks worse than it is—”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“Who did this to you?”

You exhaled slowly. “Buck—”

“Don’t. Just…” His jaw clenched. “Stay right there.”

“Bucky, it’s fine. I dodn’t even need stitches—”

“You’re bleeding.” His voice trembled with something dangerous. “You’re limping. You snuck into your own damn house like a thief because you knew I’d lose it if I saw you like this. And guess what? You were right.”

He was in front of you in three long strides.

His hands—warm, shaking—came up to cup your face, careful to avoid the bruises.

“You weren’t supposed to see me like this,” you whispered. “You’d only worry.”

“I worry when you’re five minutes late for lunch. You think this is gonna lessen that?”

“I’m not made of glass—”

“You’re made of everything I live for.”

Your breath caught.

He scanned your injuries with haunted eyes. “Who did this?”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

You sighed. “I didn’t want you to spiral. Last time you saw me with a busted lip, you threatened to drown a guy in the Hudson.”

“I should’ve.”

“Bucky—”

“Tell me his name.”

You met his eyes. “If I do, you’ll find him.”

He didn’t deny it.

“And if I don’t?” you added.

“I’ll find him anyway.”

You groaned. “You are the most dramatic man I’ve ever met.”

He lifted you into his arms like it was nothing—like you didn’t have two working legs—and carried you down the hall.

“I’m intense,” he corrected. “Not dramatic.”

“You literally brooded in the dark waiting for me to get home.”

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice? Like my wife could come home hurt and I wouldn’t feel it in my chest?”

You let out a weak laugh. “God, you’re annoying.”

“You married me, doll. That’s on you.”

Twenty Minutes Later...

You sat on the bathroom counter while Bucky dabbed antiseptic over the cuts along your ribs, his brows furrowed like each mark physically hurt him more than it hurt you.

He hadn’t stopped touching you.

Even now, his thumb rubbed soft circles into your thigh as he worked.

“Doesn’t even sting,” you said.

“That’s not the point,” he muttered, placing another bandage carefully. “You came home bleeding. You flinched when you took your shirt off. You snuck in.”

“I didn’t want to see your sad little kicked puppy face,” you teased.

He glared. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“No, you’re lucky I love you. You’re high maintenance.”

“Says the woman who took on a six-foot mercenary solo and got cracked in the jaw for it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t win?”

He paused. “Wait. You won?”

“Cracked three of his ribs and made him cry.”

He stared.

Then—slowly—he grinned.

“That’s my girl.”

You tried not to bask in it, but you totally basked in it.

Still, he wasn’t done.

As he finished wrapping the final gauze, he stood between your legs and stared at you like you held gravity in your hands.“I breathe for you,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “That’s it. That’s the only reason I get up in the morning.”

Your throat went tight. “Bucky—”

“You come home hurt, and it feels like the world’s off its axis. I can’t think. Can’t function. You’re not fragile, babe. You’re the strongest person I know. But the thought of losing you? I’d lose everything.”

God.

You buried your face in his chest, arms tight around him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Too late. You did. You always do.”

You looked up. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“You love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

He grinned and kissed your forehead.

Next Day – 2:00 PM

You woke up to an empty bed and a note on the pillow:

Had to step out. Be back soon. Don’t move too much or I’ll find out and carry you around like a baby until you learn your lesson. I love you more than oxygen.

—B <3

You rolled your eyes.

And sighed.

And smiled.

He came back at sunset. Calm. Too calm.

You didn’t even have to ask.

“You found him, didn’t you?”

He dropped his jacket. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“He’s not gonna be walking straight for a while.”

“Bucky…”

“And probably won’t be talking much either.”

You stared at him.

“He’ll live. Probably,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I was nice. For the first ten seconds.”

“Jesus—”

“He laid a hand on you. You really think I wasn’t gonna rearrange his face?”

You huffed, arms crossed, but you were secretly touched. And maybe a little turned on.

“You are so dramatic.”

“No. Dramatic is you sneaking past your literal super soldier husband with blood dripping down your shirt.”

“Fine,” you muttered, walking toward him. “You win.”

He caught you easily, arms pulling you in.

“I always win, doll,” he murmured, kissing your bruised temple. “Especially when it comes to you.”

The Next Morning – 9:07 AM

Sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, painting golden stripes over the bed where you were curled up like a cat. One leg over the sheet. A little sore. A little achy. But warm.

Bucky stirred beside you, his metal arm slung protectively over your waist.

“You awake?” you mumbled.

“Was watching you breathe,” he rasped, voice still sleep-rough. “You twitch your nose when you’re dreaming.”

“You’re creepy.”

“You married me, sweetheart. This is your fault.”

You snorted, rolling to face him, wincing a little. He was already awake, already watching you with that look. Like you were sacred. Untouchable. His.

“You hurting?” he asked immediately, shifting to sit up. “Need painkillers? Water? I can carry you to the bath—”

“Bucky.”

He blinked.

“I’m okay. It’s just a bruise, not a broken limb. Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re three seconds from spoon-feeding me cereal.”

“…Is that an option?”

You groaned and buried your face in his chest.

“You’re insufferable.”

He chuckled, warm and smug, tucking you tighter under his chin. You stayed like that for a while. Tangled limbs. Warm sheets. His fingers trailing soft patterns on your back like he couldn’t stand not touching you.

“Don’t do that again,” he whispered finally.

You didn’t pretend to not hear it. “Okay.”

“I know you’re strong. I know you can take care of yourself. But if something happens to you—I stop breathing. You get that?”

You swallowed hard. “I get it.”

“I love you so much it makes me a little insane.”

“Only a little?”

“I toned it down for your sake.”

You giggled. “You’re cute when you’re crazy.”

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

You looked up, brushed the hair from his forehead, kissed him slow.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #who did this to you #protective husband #husband!bucky #avengers fanfiction #avengers

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personapeters · 4 months ago

Text

𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝

— a rafe cameron one shot

✰ when y/n gets her boyfriend to partake in a viral tiktok trend.

rating: sfw — cw: none

anyone who had a phone and internet access knew of the viral couple’s trend, and y/n was no exception. endless sickeningly sweet videos flooded her feed of men effortlessly lifting their girlfriends onto their shoulders, some ending with them toppling over into a heap of laughter; it left a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach and she, too, wanted the first hand experience.

she knew rafe better than anyone; being recorded doing some silly trend for the world to see simply wasn’t something he’d be willing to do. despite that fact, she knew it wouldn’t hurt too terribly to propose the idea. so, with little hesitation, she made her request known.

“rafe?” she quipped from her place on the couch, her legs draped lazily over her boyfriends lap. “hm?” he hummed, his attention momentarily glued to the phone in his hand as he finished a text. “can we, maybe, try something?” she asked, watching as he completed his typing before tossing the device onto the coffee table with a clank.

“what’s that?” he mumbled, running a hand up her bare leg and resting it on her thigh, lightly squeezing as he gazed at her. “before you say no, just hear me out, okay?” she asked, his face quirking at the request. he nodded his head in a way that prompted her to continue, so she did.

“i wanna see if you can lift me,” she informed simply, to which rafe’s brows rose in question. “if i can lift you?” he clarified with a mild confusion, “y’know i can — do it all the time.”

“no, i mean, like—,” she fumbled with her phone for a moment, tapping at the screen before turning it to face him, “it’s for a video thing… like this.” he watched intently as a couple performed the ‘lift’ in reference and his face contorted to one of scrutiny.

“why?” he questioned, genuinely not understanding the appeal. “i don’t know, looks fun — it’s cute,” y/n mumbled with a shrug, gradually becoming less enthused. “looks kinda dumb,” he muttered honestly, completely disconnected from the internet and it’s need for spontaneous niches. “oh,” y/n spoke quietly as she stared down at the device �� maybe he was right.

rafe noticed the shift in her demeanor instantly, his heart squeezing as she slouched against the armrest of the couch, a small pout pulling at her lips that she tried to fight against. he felt a pang of guilt in his chest, hating how filter-less his mouth could be. he didn’t mean come off as cold and dismissive, but he knew that he did, and often does; he also knew that he needed to fix it.

“okay, come on,” he sighed, patting her thigh before sliding her legs off his. “what?” she asked in surprise, her eyes following him as he stood. “let’s do it,” he shrugged, holding out a hand for her to take. immediately, a bright smile flooded her face as she wrapped her digits around his larger palm. “really?” she beamed as he pulled her to her feet. “yeah, i just— is that it?” he motioned to the phone in her grasp, “i just pick you up?”

“yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically with a grin, her eyes glistening as she did so and rafe couldn’t help but let his lips mimic her own. “alright, go set it up,” he instructed as he peered down at her, softly patting her hip in encouragement. she obliged quickly, propping her phone up on the coffee table and setting a timer to count them down from thirty, hoping that would allot them enough time to prepare.

“please don’t drop me,” she laughed as rafe situated his large hands around her waist, his long fingers nearly touching each other at the center of her stomach. “i’d never,” he scoffed with a soft smile, “just tell me when.”

“almost,” she muttered as she watched the numbers descend on the screen, “okay-okay, three, two, one.” instantly, she felt the hold on her body tighten as rafe effortlessly lifted her through the air; she didn’t need to jump in assistance, nor did he grunt or struggle in the slightest, carrying her gracefully as though she was a feather. she instinctively gripped his wrists as a squeal left her mouth, a melodic stream of laughter following as he propped her onto his shoulder, her body fitting perfectly on the broad surface.

the recording ended and the song looped softly in the background as rafe carefully slid her down his body, his hands resting underneath her arms as he lowered her to the ground. as soon as her feet hit the floor, she padded over to watch the perfectly imperfect recording — the framing was off, seeing as rafe was too tall to fit, and she didn’t lip-sync to the lyrics as most others had, but none of that mattered in the slightest.

“look,” she grinned, holding the phone out for rafe to see. he smiled fondly down at her, his eyes flickering between her face as she watched the clip and the clip itself. admittedly, he enjoyed participating, enjoying even more how giddy she was about it. “i see,” he assured with a small smile, his focus primarily on his happy girl as he rested a hand on her hip, rubbing small circles on the bone.

“i love it,” she gushed, ecstatic to have something so sweet and silly of herself and her boyfriend that she just knew she would watch over and over and over again. “good,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the moment being interrupted when his phone rang out — a call he was expecting.

“i’ve gotta take this,” he informed, running his fingers under the hem of her shirt and softly grazing the skin before breaking the contact. he grabbed the cell from it’s place on the table, answering it with a hushed greeting before exiting the room, leaving y/n to rewatch their video again with a cheek-aching grin; her man was in-fact very jacked and oh-so kind (but only ever for her).

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sttoru · 11 months ago

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plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(

𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’

“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.

you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.

satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.

he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”

your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.

“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.

satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.

“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.

“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.

satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.

“pretty girl. you’re perfect,” satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.

satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.

“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.

rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.

“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.

you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.

he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.

you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.

satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.

ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.

“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.

satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.

“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.

you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.

the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #jjk x you #gojo x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru smut

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gothgoblinbabe · 8 months ago

Text

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Definitely not my type of girl.

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately.

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?”

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.”

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?”

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine

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drgnflyteabox · 8 months ago

Text

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day.

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb.

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved.

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk.

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

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