#raise a glass to the things we can't find again

[mourningstar113]

There must be a word for it. That specific grief over a lost thing, a lost artwork, rather than a lost person. But I guess it is the loss of someone too. Suddenly they're gone, and you never get to find out what happened.

raise a glass to the posts you love that end up deleted. to the fanart and fanfics you lose track of and can't locate. to the blogs you used to look through that ended up unexpectedly disappearing. to the things you didn't archive because you always assumed they'd be there.

[abbyshands]

Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)

teach me

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3

synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3

wc; 2.2k

p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.

your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.

that's where abby came in.

abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.

let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.

you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.

not only that, the focus.

how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?

you weren't.

but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.

it was a demand.

you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.

abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.

"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"

no.

"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.

but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.

"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.

“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.

“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.

“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.

abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.

“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.

“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.

“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.

“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.

“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.

“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”

“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.

but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.

“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?

wrong.

because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?

smack.

abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.

because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.

“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.

“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?

“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”

doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”

abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.

to some degree.

but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”

abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.

“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.

“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.

"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.

but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.

"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.

"too bad."

abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.

"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.

and she doesn't like your words.

abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.

once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"

you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."

"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.

this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.

"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.

"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.

"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.

and fill with butterflies.

“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.

“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.

"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?

it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.

even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”

“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.

"there’s my smart girl.”

and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.

your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.

"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.

and you hadn’t even finished yet.

"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.

"look on the good side.”

“you'll remember better now, won't you?"

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[noceurous]

a guide to dating in twenty first century

you met a kind stranger at a bar, next day you ended up on his couch, on your first date…

warnings: implied age gap, hints of abusive relationships (not by joel or reader), hint of dom!joel, no outbreak, usage of pet name(baby), lots of alcohol consumption, can be considered as dubcon but consent is asked and given, mention of food, swearing, talking about marriage, smut (18+), fingering (f receiving), reader is afab and able bodied, she has some hair.

a/n: here it is folks, my first joel miller fic. please give comments/reblogs if you like it.

part i: the ‘first’ date

The song had just started when you entered the garden side of the bar. A rock classic filling the place, still laudable through all the chattering.

Your eyes scanned the area, trying to find your friends. Just before you took out your phone to text, you saw a familiar back of the head turning towards you. 

“Hey!” Maggie raised her hand, she looked gigglier than usual. You have already told them to start without you so her being tipsy was understandable. You started walking towards their table, “You’re late!” She protested as you got in the earshot.

You pulled the only empty chair they reserved for you and hung your bag at the back. You greeted the rest of the table with a smile and a simple nod before sitting down. All of the girls already ordered their drinks, and half way down finishing the snacks.

“And you don’t wear a tiara or a bride sash!” You half-protested as you turned towards her. Acting like you were just a few minutes late, not like it took you extra half an hour to get ready mentally.

“Not my thing.” You chuckled, raised your hand in the air for a waiter to see you. Thinking you were ready to start drinking and catch up with the girls.

—

The first half of the night was good. You fake-smiled and joined the conversations about when is the best time to have a baby, and best place to have a honeymoon. All thanks to your little helper in a glass. As you were about to finish your second one, you felt like you reached your quota about non ending monogamy speeches.   

A girl turned towards you. She was a colleague of Maggie and you only saw her before once at some New Years party. Jen something? Or was it Jess? You were sure it started with J.

She asked as she leant towards you. “So? Who is going to be your plus one?” 

There it was, the question you waited for all night long. You were the maid of honor, also the only single girl in the table. Of course people were going to ask why you had no plus one. 

“Noone.” You explained in one word, playing with the straw inside your glass.

“Oh, really? Are you sure? You can't just go alone! If you want I can set you up with-” Maggie intertwined the conversation, placing her elbows on the table and her chin inside her palms. As she did, all the girls stopped talking again and all turned their heads to you.

“She is not interested Alice. I’ve even told her the only other person who is coming alone is my grandma, and that’s just because she’s a widow.”

“Well you never know. Maybe she’ll find her next true love from the groom’s side.” Maggie rolled her eyes as the rest of the table chuckled at your joke, returning to talk about what they were talking about before. Before Alice, not Jess nor Jen, could ask you something you put your hands on the table.

“Okay, I need to hit the ladies room first. Then we can talk about why I need to find a guy ASAP.” You said as you raised yourself from your seat.

The ladies room was occupied so you had to wait in line with another girl who seemed too drunk to stand on her own. Playing with her fingers, rocking back and forth in her place. "Do you have weed, or something like that?"

You pressed your lips together and shook your head. "No, sorry." The girl huffed and crossed her arms on her chest.

The door opened and the girl in front of you threw herself inside, not even waiting for the other girl to step out properly. You two shared a look, “What is her problem?”

You sighed as you got all alone resting your head on the wall to take a breath. You hated when people became all invested in your love life, or the lack of your love life in better words. 

You spent almost a year to recover from your shitty break up by going on even shittier dates, then you simply gave up. Not like you had too many admirers, since your life was usually spent between work and home.

As you were looking down, somebody’s shoes came into your point of view. The tips of the dark leather boots were pointing on the tips of your high heeled sandals.

“Hi.” You raised your head when you realized he was talking to you.

He was clearly older than you. Salt and pepper hair and a patchy beard and mustache. He seemed cute, and somehow it felt like you could trust him. Like he was over with his bullshitting phase which every guy on your age was into.

He dressed nicely, an old pair of jeans and a dark colored shirt tight enough to hint he was built. Broad shoulders and thick biceps, large colloused hands…

“Hi?” You spoke sooner than you preferred. Sound just one octave higher than it usuallt was.

“Uhm, I don’t wanna seem weird but I noticed ya and heard ya were single so I—” You smiled at the southern accent, it fit him nicely. 

“I don’t want to step over a line, and sorry again if this seems too brave… May I have your phone number?” 

Here it is…

“Oh, well…” You spoke, eyes going between the still occupied ladies room door and the table of your friends.

He raised his hands in the air, taking a step back. Pressing his lips together as he slowly gave you a nod. “I understand completely.”

You felt like someone stabbed you on your chest when your eyes found him back. He looked like a small puppy who got kicked.

What is the worst thing that could happen? You probably gone over many shitty scenarios already.

“Wait-“ You said as you looked at the door again. The girl was taking forever and sure she would not come out anytime soon.

He stopped, raising his eyebrows. Eyes sparkling with a little piece of hope, and you could not find the strength to break his heart in yourself.

“I’d be happy to give my phone number.” He smiled, taking out his phone from his back pocket, opening his keypad before giving it to you.

You quickly tapped your number and called yourself. Your phone buzzed inside your back pocket. As you took it out, its screen was screen flashing with an unsaved number, “Done.”

“I’m Joel, by the way.”

“Hi Joel.” And you gave him your name, the first time it sounded so natural to hear it from someone else.

Like she took it as a que, the girl finally stepped out leaving the light switched on. Joel pointed to the door with his chin, before taking a step back again. “I’ll text you.” He said before leaving.

When you made it back to your table, your drink was gone and so were some of the girls including the girl whose name starts with J. And you just felt a relief that she would not ask you anymore questions about your dating life.

“I thought you left.” Maggie said, finishing her fourth glass. 

“The girl before me took forever.” You explained as you put on your purse, preparing to leave with the rest of the gang. You scanned the room, hoping maybe you would see Joel somewhere in the corner. But all you saw was a guy eyeing you up and down, courtesy of wearing a skirt in the 21st century. 

“Do you want me to call you a cab as well?” You turned to Maggie, shaking your head.

“No. I will take the subway. It’s cheaper. I spent a good amount back there, my credit card deserves a break.” She chuckled as she gave you a kiss goodbye.

On your way back you saved Joel’s number in your contacts. Joel.

Plain and simple, because he was the first Joel you knew.

He hadn’t texted you by the time you made it to your place. You tried your best to not overthink it. Calling it a lucky shot if he remembered to text you the next morning, and focus on anything but him.

You put your phone back on your nightstand after checking it for the 1000th time. Hating for yourself how you always ended up as the person who waits.

On next day at 13:42 your phone buzzed with a message.

After spending the night wondering when he would text you back and trying to distract yourself from wondering…

Hi, it’s Joel Miller from last night. I got your number as you were waiting on line at Ophelia’s ladies room.

You smiled at the formality of the text message. It was probably better than ‘wasssuppp’ the guys around your age sent you.

You quickly started typing a reply. He was still online, you felt that was your lucky shot. Hoping would not wait for 12 hours again for a reply.

Even if he did, you would just give up and throw your phone out the window.

hi joel

You felt a weight was over your chest when you saw typing… under his name. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you saw his message.

How are you? Any signs of hangover?

just tired from last night.

we left the place at 2:24 AM.

That’s bad. I assumed you would leave later than us, so I didn’t want to text you in the morning and disturb you.

The us seemed more important to you than focusing on the fact that he only texted late because he cared.

Because he thought you could be tired, and he just did not want to disturb you late at night—

us?

Yeah, throw your senses out the window… Ask it away…

I was with my brother last night.

You felt shame because of your doubts. What would he say, his wife?

I wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me tonight?

I’m a nice cook :)

sure :)

is 19:30 good?

Yes it is. I’m sending you my location.

I can also send an Uber to pick you up.

no it’s fine. you don’t live far.

At exactly 19:33 you rang the doorbell. You fixed your top as you waited for him. It was cute and see through enough for a first date. You’ve also taken your pants showing your ass like a masterpiece from dry cleaners.

Lucky guy…

You didn’t tell Maggie or someone else that you were going on a date because you didn’t want them spiral this into something bigger than it was.

You felt the inside of your palms getting wetter. Your heartbeat sped up as each second he did not open the door.

Should you go back? Maybe you co—

He opened the door before you could gather your thoughts. Smiling when his eyes found you, leaning his head towards the door. “Hi.” He did not look nervous like you, he looked like it was just a Saturday night for him.

“Hi.” You said smiling back, and joined your hands in front of you. Feeling the muscles on your back relax as he opened the door wider for you and stepped inside.

“Welcome. Sorry it took me awhile to open the door, I was waiting for water to boil.” He explained as he closed the door and turned towards you.

You took a better look at the place once you were inside. It did not have much, seemed like he only purchased the necessary stuff. He did not have posters or painting decorating his walls like yours did, or a large bookshelf filled with books.

“You have a nice place.” You said as you followed his guide to kitchen.

He turned on his heels, looking at you. He was wearing a dark Pink Floyd tshirt and blue jeans. You could see his biceps peeking out from the sleeves. His hair was nicely done, beard was trimmed. He looked even better than you remembered.

“Oh thanks, I’ve just moved in here actually, wanted to be closer t’ city.” He said as he pulled your chair for you to sit. “Dinner will be around half an hour, do you want to have something to drink first?”

“Sure.” You said as you sat on the bar stool, watching him to come back with beers. When he closed the fridge door you noticed the only photo placed on it. The magnet was just some dark circle, and your fridge was decorated with cute and funny ones.

On the photo Joel was next to some guy and had his arm placed on his shoulder. The guy had a longer, combed back hair but shared Joel's love for mustaches.

They were both wearing black tux, and had a buttonhole. The guy’s was larger than Joel’s, so you thought it was probably from a wedding.

“Who is that?” You asked as you pointed on the photo. He looked over his shoulder.

“That’s Tommy, my little brother. It’s from his wedding day. 'was a few years ago.” He explained casually, taking a sip from his beer. “I was the bestman.”

“My friend is getting married in two weeks as well, I’m the maid of honor. We were having bacholerrette party the other night.” You felt a twist on your stomach as you spoke. A pressure on your shoulder getting heavier as you spoke. You tried your best not to frown, as you remembered what your ex told you.

You’re overwhelming, all your problems and your whines… All you do is talk talk talk—

“A few weeks later you may have one on your fridge with your friend as well.” You smiled at the thought. Not like there was a space left on your fridge for one more photo.

“Yeah I suppose. I hope we both look good in the photo as you guys do.”

“Hire a professional. That’s the secret. You cannot tell we were both hammered, thanks to the guy.” He admitted and you both laughed at that. You felt lighter as he joked and asked you questions. The knots in your stomach getting untwisted as he spoke. You weren't sure if it was because of beer or his interest even in the most mundane things you told him, but you felt lighter. “Are you excited for the wedding?”

“Not really, they’ve been dating for years. I was wondering when he would ask, rather than if he would ask.” He nodded, checking the food in the pot and he raised himself to stir it.

You gulped when you saw his flexing muscles underneath his tshirt. Your fingers played with the rim of bottle, watching him prepare the plates and his thick arms and long fingers move.

“Tommy was nervous as hell when he proposed. Maybe same thing happened with him as well.”

“Yeah maybe. The idea of marriage can be scary.”

“You think so?”

You are not the kind of girl suitable for marriage.

“Yes, but I also know you do not get scarred that much when you know you are married with the right person.” You were not sure if you were saying this to him or yourself.

“Well, you haven’t seen my brother at the end of the aisle but he is one of a kind guy. But Maria was relaxed, so you might be right.” He said as he came back with two plates of food.

“It looks delicious.”

“Told ya I was a nice cook. Let’s dig in.”

—

The most of the dinner was spent with questions about your jobs and family. Nothing too personal, nothing to make you nervous. Although you had beer for that. The screeching voice of your ex had stopped echoing in your head.

Now you were sitting on his couch, drinking and going over your funny stories to one another.

His knees were touching yours, his hands was close to your thigh, but he was not directly touching you. His left hand’s pinky were barely grazing your upper thigh.

“So the stripper you hired took wallets of three guys from the party and nobody blamed you?”

“Well, I got the number from a guy at work. If anybody were to be blamed, then it would be him. Plus, I’m not someone who loses all his senses when a girl in underwear sits on my lap.”

“You are not?”

“Nawh baby, I’m not a teenager anymore. I can focus when a pretty girl is on ma lap.” You raised your eyebrows, chuckling at his confession.

Baby.

You could definitely go with being called baby.

You wetted your lips as his pinky brushed your thigh, you had to restrain yourself from opening your legs.

“Really? That’s good for you then, we don’t want your wallet to be stolen as well.”

He shook his head, his fingers brushing over your thighs. When you turned your gaze at him your heart skipped a beat.

He looked amazing in the dimmed lights of the room. You got closer to him, wondering what would be his next move.

“Want me to show you?” He whispered and you nodded. A bit quicker than you’d prefer…

He gently pressed his lips on yours. Waiting for a response as his lips lingered on yours. You kissed him back, leaning your body closer to his.

The kiss was slow; he didn’t push his tongue into your mouth right away. Something you were glad he didn’t.

His hands stood on his sides, allowing you to set the pace. You bit down on his lower lip, slowly, signaling him to open his mouth. He grunted, clenching his hands into fists to stop himself from touching you. Opening his mouth to push his tongue inside yours, sucking your tongue.

You could taste the bitter taste of the beer, but didn’t mind. Sure same could apply for you as well. Your hands placed on his cheeks, his stubble digging inside your palms.

He slowly placed his hands on your waist, guiding you on his lap. When you were settled, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. A small whimper left your lips, when you felt him getting harder under you.

His other hand moved south, palm following the shape of your ass. Your one hand moved further down, feeling his muscles fletch inside his tshirt.

“You’re good.” You admitted as you broke the kiss for air. His hands still on your body, caressing you. He rested his head on the back of the couch.

“‘Want me to show ya things I’m better at?” His tone was smug. You nodded quickly, letting your body make decisions for you.

He pulled you back to his torso, kissing you rougher than before. His hand was now in front of your jeans, cupping you. You moaned when he pressed his fingers onto tight denim.

A few seconds later you were lying down on the couch with him between your legs and your jeans were already left your body.

His palms were rough as they moved across your legs, moving towards your upper thighs then your panties. “May I?” He said between kisses, waiting for your approval.

You nodded, but he only hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties. “Words baby, use your words.” You felt yourself getting wetter when he called you by that nickname again.

“Yes, please.”

“That’s my girl.” He said as he quickly pecked your lips, sliding off your underwear. His fingers traced your lips, gathering your slick. “Fuck, I didn’t expect you to be this wet baby.” He whispered on your lips.

You felt the heat rising through your cheeks but before you could hide your face Joel already pushed a finger inside you. “Oh!” You moaned loudly, he raised your leg and hooked it on his shoulder.

“I’d love to hear your voice baby. Let’s see if you can be louder.” He said as he started moving his finger rapidly. Hitting your sweet spot with the pad of his finger at each stroke.

Your toes curled and you felt your stomach got tighten with his movements. “Hmph J-Joel!” You held onto his upper arm for support. His lips on your neck, kissing and nibbling. Before giving you a chance to get used to first one, he pushed his second finger inside you. Your grasp on his arm got tighter, leaving crescent shaped marks.

You could feel yourself drip onto his palm, hearing the slick noises as his fingers moved inside you. “I-I’m cl-close.” You admitted, feeling your walls close around his fingers.

“Yeah baby?” He said as he slowed down to look at you, brushing off to hair strands on your face. You nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “Let go for me, okay? Come on.” He said as he got back to his old pace, scissoring his fingers.

When your orgasm hit you, you raised your head to kiss him. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. He gladly surrendered to your kiss, his hand placed on your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

Slowly pulling his fingers as your breaths slowed down. His hand moved to the hem of your top. You felt your heart shrunk on your chest. You placed your hand on top of his, shaking your head.

He pulled his hand back like it just touched fire. Muttering an apology as you raised yourself. “I’m so sorry.” You said, reaching for your underwear and pants to quickly put them on.

“It’s getting late, I should get going.” You explained as you checked the time on your phone.

10:34 PM.

After ten is late right?

He nodded quickly. “Let me drop you off.” He said as he got up from the couch. You noticed his boner once he stood back on his feet. Pressing your lips together to stop your cunt from throbbing at the sight.

You were leaving the guy who gave you a body wrecking orgasm with a huge, thick boner…

“We both drank. I think it is better for me to call an Uber.”

“You are right.” He slurred his words, walking over to you. “Let me walk you out then. I can join you as you wait.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You dropped your shoulders, seeing the guilt all over his face. You nodded, allowing him to walk with you.

You took out your phone to call for an Uber. Sighing with relief when you saw your driver was close to you.

“So that was… good?” You raised your head back to him. Putting your phone back inside your bag. Guilt and tension were all over his face.

“I really had a nice time. I have this thing in the morning and we drank and it’s—” He put his hands in the air. Stopping your mumbling.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.” He said, smiling down at you. “I’ll call you then, for next time?”

“Yeah that’d be great.” You answered, eyes going back and forth between him and the road.

Shifting on your feet from one foot to other. His hands were in his pockets. Resting his body on the metal gate, casually checking you up and down.

When you saw your car coming you gave him a small goodbye hug, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I had a great time. Thanks for everything.” You explained again, trying your best to assure him he had done nothing wrong.

“Anytime. Text me once you get back, alright?”

“Sure.” You said as you walked over to your car, looking over your shoulder before you got in. He waved you slightly, you smiled back and he mouthed the words ‘Be safe.’

Once he was out of your sight, you relaxed on your seat. Let go of the breath you were holding since you put back on your jeans.

Your fingers were rubbing your temples. As you quickly recapped the night.

You ended up on a guy’s lap again on the first date. You even went to his place and let him finger you. At least you did not let him fuck you with his seemingly huge cock. That showed self-improvement…

And lastly, you turned down the guy who was the nicest guy you have met.

You knew you kissed your chance to a second date goodbye as the Uber turned around the corner to your street.

[part ii]

[generalsmemories]

Unwanted reunion

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event

✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death

✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.

NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.

Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.

The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.

But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.

"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."

"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.

"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.

You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.

"It's my duty-"

"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."

Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"

"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.

Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.

"... You know what my answer is."

Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.

Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.

"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.

"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.

"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.

"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.

"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.

"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.

"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.

"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.

"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."

[rogueddie]

Runner / End Of Beginning

Steve has never seen his father as upset, as furious, as he was when he got home with his final exam results. He'd known- suspected- that his father would flip when his results came in...

His father got angry at small things. Hearing that he'd had a party while they were away, that a girl went missing at that party, had been the closest Steve thought he'd ever get to recieving a beating.

But when he came home with his grades... when his father realized that his son, his supposed prodigy, barely passed...

Steve has never ran as fast as he currently is.

As soon as he'd seen an openning, a clear line to the door, he'd stumbled to his feet and bolted. He'd picked a random direction and ran. He isn't going to stop running until he physically has to stop, knowing that his father is most likely in his car, trying to find him.

He can't stop. He has to keep running.

Eventually, he has to pause. He has to catch his breath.

He leans against a trailer, panting. He prays that no one thinks to look outside and spot him. He prays that no one will-

"Harrington?"

"Fuck." He hisses, squinting up at- "Munson?"

"What the fuck happened to you?" He says, eyes widenning when he finally gets a look at his face. "Second round with Hargrove, or what?"

"Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Munson eyes him for a moment, frowning. "Is someone after you?"

"What do you care?" Steve heaves a deep breath, forcing himself to stand up straight. He brings his knees up in a few knee highs, gearing up for another sprint.

"Ugh. Just- you can come into my trailer," Munson says, sounding as though Steve is forcing him to make the suggestion. "No one would think to look for you there. You can, like... I don't know. Drink some water? You jocks do that, right?"

"Wh- I don't need your help!"

"I'm not waiting for you all day, come on, let's go!" He makes a wide, exaggerated gesture for Steve to follow.

"You just assume I'm gonna follow?"

"Yeah."

He sounds so confident, so sure, that Steve can't think to do anything other thank blink and say, "fuck it, yeah, alright."

Steve is a little surprised at how much space Eddies trailer has. It's cramped, but in a nice way- the way a home gets when people actually live in it. When the people inside are actually happy and chase those joys.

Munson does get him a glass of water, mumbling at him to "sit anywhere", before flopping onto the sofa himself. He turns the TV on, focusing on that.

"Thanks," Steve eventually mutters, awkwardly sitting down.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Sure."

"There isn't," he insists, despite how casual and accepting Munson is acting. "It's my fault, anyway. I deserved it."

"Did you?" Munson turns to him, eyebrow raised. "All us freaks and losers can talk about these days is your change of heart. King of Hawkins High turned lame boytoy."

"Thanks, that makes me feel so much better," Steve sneers.

"Even Jeff thinks you're alright now," he barrels on. "Said he bumped into you, pretty hard, knocked all your shit down, and you apologized. Said his coffee ended up on an essay, or something. Thought he was about to get his ass kicked and you just..."

He waves his hand at him, as though that's explination enough.

Steve doesn't know a Jeff, but he's pretty sure he knows who Munson is talking about, and; "I wasn't looking where I was going. If anything, we were both at fault."

"See?" Munson waves his hand at him again, a little more pointed. "Don't doubt you've got a long way to go, but you're not half-bad. You didn't deserve whatever the fuck happened to your face."

"Whatever."

They fall quiet, both pretending to watch whatever is on the TV. Steve is so zoned out that, when someone clears their throat, he flinchs.

"Sorry to startle you boys," the man chuckles. But the humor quickly teeters out, once he gets a good look at Steve. "You alright, kid?"

"I'm fine."

"He's not," Munson grins wide when Steve glares at him.

"Staying the night?" The man continues, only looking at Eddie now.

"If I can convince him," Munson shrugs.

"I can't stay the night," Steve tries.

"Good," the man nods, as though Steve hadn't said anything. "I'll start making us all some dinner." He finally looks to Steve. "You got any allergies?"

"I can't stay," Steve tries again, insisting.

"No," Munson answers for him. "No problems with meat either."

The man gives Munson a thumbs up, heading through to the kitchen.

"I can't stay," Steve repeats, turning to Munson. "Really. I have to go back or... I have to go back."

"What will happen if you don't go back?"

Steve grimaces. "Nothing. Just- I can't stay here."

"Why not? They gonna hit me too?"

"You know what, Munson? Yeah, probably. And your- your dad?"

"Uncle," Munson snorts, standing, stretching. "No one messes with us though. We're too scary." He wiggles his fingers in Steves face as he passes by. "And call me Eddie."

"Why?"

"It's my name."

Steve awkwardly follows him to the kitchen, hovering a good distance from the two of them, watch how they move around each other with so much comfort and ease. It makes something in Steves chest ache.

"Oh, hey, you like football right?" Eddie asks, pointing to him.

"Uh, yeah, kinda. Not enough to have, like, a team." Steve shrugs.

Wayne turns around slowly, eyebrows raised. "You don't got a team?"

Talking football with Wayne is so easy that, until he's halfway through the dinner he cooked, Steve doesn't notice how fast the time is going. He can't bring himself to be bothered though. It's too nice.

Plus, Eddie is almost bouncing with joy at how well Steve and Wayne are getting along.

Someone starts banging on the door, loud and aggressive, as they make their way to the kitchen.

"Alright!" Wayne calls, rolling his eyes. "Hold your horses."

Steves stomach drops when the door opens and his father is on the other side. He smiles at Steve, sickly sweet and dangerously calm.

"Oh, thank God," he sighs. "Steve, your mother and I have been looking all over for you. When you didn't get home-"

Wayne blocks his way when he tries to step inside. "Who are you?"

"Robert Harrington," Steves dad sniffs, leaning back so he can physically look down at Wayne. "I'm here for my son."

"He ain't here."

Robert Harrington splutters, face tinting red with anger and frustration. He points to Steve, voice raising as he says, "he's right there! And he's coming with me."

Wayne turns, slow and casual. "Huh. That's odd. Don't see him."

"Steve," he snaps his fingers at Steve, like he's a dog. "Come on. We're going home."

Eddie shifts so he's standing slightly in front of him.

It's enough reassurance for him to finally snap back; "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Steven-"

"Get off my property," Wayne snaps.

His father glares at them, waiting, as though he expects them to back down. When he doesn't, he snarls; "this is kidnapping."

"He's 18," Eddie drawls.

Grumbling, he stomps off.

"Asshole," Wayne mutters. He shuts and locks the door, sliding on the chain too.

Steve has to sit down, with how much his legs are shaking.

"You alright?" Eddie asks, hesitantly sitting beside him.

"Yeah," Steve says. He's surprised to find he means it. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You can stay here, long as you need," Wayne offers. "You'll have to bunk with Eds though. Not a lot of room."

"Why can't he use the sofa when you're-"

"Nope," Wayne cuts him off. There's a glint of mischief in his eyes that has Steve squinting in suspicion. "And you'll need those cuts looking at. Eddie, why don't you go with him. Medkits in the bathroom."

Steve goes ahead when Eddie points the way to the bathroom.

Eddie tries to give Wayne a warning look but he's unbothered and, with Steves back turned, he gives Eddie an encouraging wink.

[dollfacefantasy]

Under the Influence ♡

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: when you and dick are left with an extra sedative after a mission goes wrong, you share a little fantasy of yours with him

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, intoxication kink, drugs + drinking, praise + degradation

word count: 3k

tags: @nexysworld @gor3-hound

"I wonder how it feels."

The simple sentence falling from your lips was the start of this whole thing. Dick turned to where you sat at the bar next to him sipping your drink. He raised an eyebrow, trying to determine if that was some sort of attempt at a joke.

"I don't think it's a real mystery," he says and shrugs, "We were basically gonna roofie the guy."

The two of you had been assigned by Bruce to follow a suspect potentially involved with a string of recent kidnappings. You were to incapacitate him, and then bring him to a rendezvous where he could be questioned upon his return to consciousness. Only the problem tonight was that the target hadn't shown up where he was supposed to, leaving you and your boyfriend with an extra sedative on hand.

"Yeah, I know that," you respond with a roll of your eyes, "But... I don't know. You never wonder how it would feel?"

"No," he nearly laughs at you. He struggled to see why that thought would ever cross his or your mind. Taking another swig of his drink, he can see you leaning in closer out of the corner of his eye.

"You never think about how it would feel, getting all dizzy? Drifting off and feeling totally dazed, other people doing everything for you?" you ask, your voice getting softer as your breath fans over his ear.

"No, but I'm starting to get an idea why you might," he says and glances over at you again, "You have something you wanna tell me?"

Next thing he knows, your hand is on his thigh and you're looking at him with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes you can manage. Your nose is close enough to brush against his own. If he had to guess, he'd say you'd had this little fantasy for a while now.

"Lemme try it, Dick. Gimme the pill," you plead, "It'll be fun. Everything'll be up to you, every thought in my head up to you."

A smirk grows on his face at your devotion. Your desire to give him so much control over you that it felt like ownership. His fingers come up to your jaw, holding you by the chin as he kisses you. It's lingering and wet. A little bit of saliva coats your bottom lip when he pulls away.

"Y'know... if you wanted to try something like this, all you had to do was ask," he says lowly.

Smiling, you peck his lips again as his hand slides past you to drop the tablet in your drink. You nip at his bottom lip before pulling back and reaching for your glass to down some more of the liquid within it. You go to put it down, but he stops you by your wrist.

"Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to drink the rest for me. You want your head to get all nice and fuzzy, don't you?" he says.

You nod while staring into his pretty blue eyes. The cup returns to your lips and the rest of the booze slides down your esophagus.

"Good girl," he croons. His amorous smile begins to reach his eyes as his voice continues to lower, his words meant for you and only you. "Let's get you another one of those before we go."

He orders one more, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. Once the bartender brings it to you, his lips find the space behind your ear and tease you there while you drink.

"Look at you, doing so well for me. You're so eager to shut that brain of yours off," he coos.

You nod again and nurse your glass until it's empty. Your head is already starting to swirl a bit, and you wonder if the blossoming arousal in your belly has any effect on it. You can't help melting into Dick's affection right now, your head floating over to rest against his. He hums in approval and nuzzles the crook of your neck.

"Feeling it already, baby? Or do I get you dizzy all by myself?" he mocks.

"Shut up," you mumble, your eyes fluttering shut. It felt like the music was slowly getting louder while your surroundings were sliding further away. Dick was the anchor keeping you from slipping away with it all.

He chuckles at your defiance and decides it's time for the two of you to head out. The drug was entering your system, and Dick didn't think it would be the smartest idea to make your exit by tossing you over his shoulder while you were knocked out.

He tucks you to his side and guides you over through the doors over to the car. He can almost see the gears in your head slowing down on the walk to the vehicle alone. You stay pressed up against his toned torso until he can get the passenger door open and deposit you in the front seat. Once he's done, he leans down, buckling you in and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises before heading over to his own side of the car. You lazily preen at the compliment. He can't help but laugh at how delayed the reaction is.

The drive back to your apartment feels like it only takes a minute. You don't know if that's because Dick is as eager as you are or if the sedative has already stolen your perception of time. All you know is that your eyes start to droop, and your head tilts over and bonks against the glass window. It feels nice and cool though, so you keep it there.

When he parks the car, you feel like you're still in motion. The world feels like it's spinning all around you, rotating in every direction all at once. You don't even hear his commands to you before he opens your door and you nearly topple out onto the pavement. His quick reflexes and strong arms spare you a busted up face.

He smiles as he pulls you up to stand beside him and locks up the car. You're considerably more out of it than you were while leaving. He leads you to the elevator and pulls you inside. Standing behind you, he laces his arms around your waist and rests his chin over your shoulder.

"You wanna press the button, honey?" he murmurs in your ear. His grin becomes absolutely smug as your head wags back and forth in a haphazard gesture for no. "Oh, why not? Need me to do that for you too? Silly girl, can't even hit a button by yourself anymore."

He pushes you against the wall as the elevator car starts to move. The spinning feels even stronger than before now that you're physically moving vertical. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tussling with your own. He can taste the liquor on you. The manifestation of your mental state.

A few seconds later, a ding sounds through the confined space. You miss it for obvious reasons, but it nearly passes Dick by too. He's so wrapped up in you, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts. But he does reluctantly pull away, reveling in how disheveled you look from less than a minute of making out.

Now he has the privacy to take you over his shoulder, and he does. He boosts you by the hips and drapes you over himself like it's nothing. You giggle too loud for this time of night. Your feet swing weakly in what are probably your distorted mind's version of kicking. He gives you a firm swat on the ass while walking down the hallway to your shared unit.

"Calm down, angel. Don't wanna drop you on your head before we get to the best part," he teases.

You laugh more, the idea of a cracked skill greatly amusing your intoxicated mind. He shakes his head with amusement and squeezes your ass cheek. As soon as he reaches the door, his free hand fishes the keys out of his pocket and makes quick work of the lock.

He kicks the door shut behind the both of you and glides through the apartment to your bedroom. You go flying onto the mattress when he flings you from over his shoulder to the soft blankets. More little giggles pour from your lips, and he takes a moment to enjoy the sight of you, his usually focused and determined girlfriend squirming on the bed and laughing her ass off at nothing in particular.

Crawling onto the bed, he positions himself on top of you.

"What's so funny, baby? Think you should share the joke with me?" he says as he leans down to kiss you again.

Your lips kiss back as best they can. His shaggy black locks brush across your forehead as he deepens the exchange, picking up where you left off in the elevator. You're still simpering slightly against his lips, but it doesn't stop him from keeping your head in place and absorbing you through the kiss.

"What's got you so happy, hm?" he mocks.

"You," you grin against his lips.

"Me?" he asks between smooches, feigning ignorance, "I'm the reason you got that pretty smile on right now."

"Yeah," you laugh and boost your head up overzealously for more.

He pushes you back down and kisses you harder before pulling back completely and gazing down at you. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your skin. You return the look with glossy doe eyes, only somewhat aware of everything that's going on.

"Are you sure it's me? Or is it my kisses?" he asks teasingly, "I know how you love kissing."

"Those are the same thing," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, are they? My mistake, princess," he says and ducks down to give you more.

He can feel your limbs wriggling underneath him, trying to slip out of your clothes. It's too big a task for you right now. Your movements weren't strong or coordinated enough. All you managed to do was get tangled up in your outfit and make it look as if you were wearing a straightjacket.

"Woah, woah," he chuckles, "Let me help with that, baby. That's too hard for you right now, isn't it? Your brain can't handle all that."

With his careful movements, he maneuvers your arms out of your top, and removes your bottoms as well, leaving you in a delicate pair of panties and your bra.

"So precious," he coos as his fingertips ghost over your now bare skin.

You squirm like a virgin and smile shyly like Dick isn't your boyfriend but rather a little crush. It's now his turn to laugh at your behavior.

"Yeah, you know you're precious, don't you? Even when you're all dumb like this," he says while his fingers work away at the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your chest.

You sigh as your tits are freed from their confines. His mouth trails down your jaw, over your neck, and to your chest. He kisses your cleavage first, just massaging the mounds of flesh with tender hands. It's not long before his lips move up one of them and latch onto a nipple. He swirls his tongue around the bud and feels it harden from his efforts.

You moan and arch your back, the drug erasing the part of you that suppresses your reaction to pleasure. Your thighs rub against one another until his hands slide between them and pull them apart. He grinds himself against your center, drawing more mewls from you.

"That feeling good? You're never gonna be too out of it to understand that," he breathes before licking a stripe over your one nipple and moving to the other.

He quickly removes his own shirt so his skin can press against yours while his mouth works on your breasts. Your hips roll against his as he continues to grind. His bulge grows harder and he can already tell that the fabric of your panties is clinging to your folds from how wet you were.

His hand slips down to confirm his theory. He chuckles against your tit when he feels how slick you are. Completely soaked. His digits slide through your arousal with ease.

"We're gonna have to do this more. Who knew all it took was a few drinks and a tiny pill to turn you into a total slut," he mocks.

"'m always a slut for you," you slur and reach up to pull his hair, wanting his lips back on your own.

He indulges you and moves up again to kiss you.

"That's true. Bet you were wet before you even took the pill. Your pussy was probably dripping just imagining it," he mutters.

His fingers hook around the hem of your panties and tug them down. He then works on shoving his own pants off and releasing his stiff cock from its restraints.

"My pussy drips whenever I look at you," you say. He knows it's supposed to be seductive, but it comes out sounding like a confession. That and you burst into another giggling fit after. Either way he finds it cute.

"That's cause I've got you so well trained," he tells you as his length springs free. He pumps it while guiding it to your entrance. "She knows to always be ready for me. Even when your head can't keep up."

He slides it in you with no resistance. Your heat welcomes him readily, squeezing around him with instinctive speed. You choke out a moan from how he sinks all the way in. There was no need to go slow or tease. You were ready, and you were in no state to be teased. Your pussy squelches around him as he rocks his hips, starting to thrust. You turn your head to his own to try and bury your face against him. The pleasure felt more distant in a way, but it was still present and building with every stroke.

"There you go, sweetheart. This is so natural for you. Head empty with your cunt stuffed full," he croons, "Taking it like a perfect little whore."

You whine and nod faintly, the words swirling around the air before sinking into your head. He ruts into you harder. Your juices gush from you and smear over both of your skin while your head bobs from the momentum he's putting into fucking you.

"Dickkkkk," you whine and grab at him aimlessly.

He presses you harder down into the bed and grunts against your neck. His fingers hold your hips tight enough to leave marks. Fine with him. He wouldn't mind a reminder for the next few days of tonight.

"Surprised you can even remember my name, babydoll," he taunts.

"I'd never forget that," you babble.

He chuckles breathily at your words. They were pretty sweet to come out of someone getting pounded into the mattress. Sounds of his skin smacking against yours emanate through the room. His shiny hair becomes damp with sweat.

"My baby, all mine, yeah?" he murmurs. 

No response comes from you this time. Instead, you yelp as he swivels his hips and drills into a special spot inside you. Every time he strikes it, it's like any remaining power you have to function seeps out of your brain.

"Oh, there she goes," he coos as he watches you slip away, "That's my girl."

"Dick, fuck ah-" you whimper weakly.

He nuzzles your cheek. "Don't try to talk. That's too hard for you right now. Pretty little thing like you just needs to stay quiet and let herself get fucked full."

"Mkay..." you mumble. Your expression is a mix of that stupid little smile from before and a pouty look you often took on when you got horny. He couldn't get enough of either.

"Fuck... 'm gonna cum soon, angel," he groans. You tighten up even more like you're trying to keep him inside forever.

He hisses at the sensation. Shoving his hand between your bodies, he slides his fingers over your clit, stoking the flames of your arousal to get you to explode for him.

You're not lucid enough to tell him you're close. You just let go. Your eyes flutter and your legs kick. Your heels dig into the mattress while you gasp and whine in his ear.

Once you've cum, it's like a switch flips in your brain, and it knocks you the fuck out. You're babbling nonsense for him, panting and clinging to his sweaty body as best you can while going limp. You vaguely feel him cum inside you, the familiar warm and comfy feeling of being full overtaking you.

He collapses on top of you after he releases. Waves of pleasure still course through him like aftershocks. Your bodies feel like one as your chests puff against one another's.

Eventually he climbs off of you, and looks down at you to see how gone you are. He chuckles softly as he watches you try to curl up and sleep right then and there. He goes into the bathroom and grabs a towel, returning to clean the both of you up.

You can sort of feel it. It's a gentle swiping feeling. He's so careful with you though, so gentle. He makes sure no touch startles you or hurts. When he's done, he slides a fresh pair of panties on you and pulls an old t-shirt over your head. You sway in place as he does it, and he finds your perpetual daze as cute as all the moans from minutes ago.

"Almost done, sweet girl," he murmurs as he finishes up. The words don't register exactly, but you understand them as a comfort. The low and soothing tone he used was familiar enough to you for your mind to understand it without specifics.

When he really is done with everything, he finally returns to you. You pull at him with grabby hands and curl right up to his chest, wanting to be held. He was never one to deny you normally, so there was no way he would while you were all sleepy and confused. He pecks your temple and rubs your back, prepared to baby you until the sedative has completely left your system.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: yandere, kidnapping

fem reader

Just had another thought about bully!Bakugou and quirkless childhood friend!darling...

You fall off the grid after high school only to reveal yourself several years later, right in the thick of his career.

He’s been recruited to go on an undercover mission to uncover a major drug scheme. He and a female operative are to play newlyweds, living together in a pretty suburban picket fence house where you'll be conducting surveillance on the neighboring family.

When you walk into the brief, you don’t give any sign of having recognized him. Nor him you, even though his chest and throat tightened to the point he had to stifle a cough.

When you sit down, you’re calm and collected while letting slip a smooth, breathless scoff – giving a slight smirk, saying calmly, “You jokers chose this landmine for a covert mission?”

“You two know each other?”

Your eyes slide off to look at Bakugou, eyeing him up and down where he sits – trying his best to hide it, but your trained eyes see it clear as day – rigid, short-breathed, a little sweaty. He’s shocked, he’s nervous, he’s even a little embarrassed.

You smile. And despite the history, all you offer in answer is a curt, “We used to.”

Bakugou feels like you have him by the balls. His jaw doesn’t unlock during the entirety of the meeting, reading the list of your responsibilities while they’re explained. How the entire neighborhood might be both bugged and surveyed by the target, so you’ll have to perform as a real married couple every waking hour – including eating together, sleeping together, kissing each other, fucking each other so as not to raise any suspicion.

You don’t budge or show any tells. You’ve been trained for this, and you’ve done this type of work plenty of times before already. Bakugou had read your file, so he knew – but shit, how weren’t you uncomfortable?

The mission lasts three long months and seventeen days. And when it’s done, you fall right off the grid again as though none of it had meant a thing.

And he knows that that’s how it’s supposed to be. He knows none of it is supposed to be real, but how can it not have been? It can't have all been a performance. He rejects that. He refuses it. He knows for certain you couldn’t have been acting all that time. You couldn’t because he hadn’t.

He’s breaking so many rules, tracking you down. And your disgust of his unprofessionalism is written all over your face when you open the door to find him having been the one to ring your doorbell. Still, you save saying anything but gesture for him to come inside.

“You weren’t easy to find-”

“This is gross misconduct, Bakugou. I can have you reported.” You cut him off. He’s not heard that voice come out of you. When you were his wife, you’d only speak sweetly – lovingly and dotingly, often with your arms slung around him, your hands in the short stubble at the back of his neck, smiling up at him so prettily.

You were scowling now.

“Are you?” He asks.

You stare at him for a moment, but then you give in with a sigh – trodding off to what he guesses is the kitchen without an answer to his question. But the silence is an answer in and of itself.

You dress differently than you did. No frilly little dress. But sweatpants and a tank – no jewelry, no makeup, hair undone.

You open the fridge and hand him a beer, then you crack one open yourself. “I have something stronger if you need it.” You say then, but he waves a no. So you lean against the counter and bring your can up to your lips. “Why are you here?”

He watches you drink for a moment. When you were his wife, you didn’t like beer, you only drank white wine, and it always made you tipsy after a couple of sips. You would never even finish a glass before becoming slow and dull-eyed. Suppose he’d never actually seen you drunk at all…

He doesn’t open his beer, feeling the cold dew drip over his knuckles. “Do you miss it?” He asks.

You look him in the eyes with slanted ones of your own. “I’m not humoring that question. If you’re having issues, you should file for a shrink. The bureau offers the best, they’ll suck out all the shit from your mind, and you’ll go back to normal within a week or two.”

“I don’t wanna go back to normal.”

You look annoyed, but then your face softens. “It’s like that the first time. It’ll pass.”

He doesn’t believe you. In your file, it said that you’d done this seven times before. Sometimes much longer than the months you’d spent together.

“It was a job, now it’s over. You need to shut the door on it and move on with your life.”

You say that, but looking around your space, it seems your job doesn’t allow much of life to take place. You have a couch and a TV, but otherwise, everything is barren. No pictures on the walls, no decorations. Where a dining table should stand, you have workout equipment instead, sprawled out over the entire floor. And if he saw your fridge correctly, you only have beer and TV dinners.

“You always on the job?” He asks.

You place your finished beer upside down in the sink, letting the last drops dry off while muttering out a retort, “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t hear it, though. Too busy looking at you, standing there against the sink – looking the way you did when you’d wash dishes after dinner. You’re not wearing a summer dress or an apron – but you stand the same way. Slightly bent over, hips pushed into the countertop, ass pushed out like a welcome. 

He sets his beer off on the counter and takes his spot behind you, sliding his bigger hands around your small waist, slotting himself against you with his crotch nudged nicely against your butt. It feels right.

You make a small sound, going a little rigid at the unsuspected attack – but weren’t brash enough to push him away. You were rational enough to accept you wouldn’t be able to if you tried. 

“You sure you don’t miss it?” He asks again in a murmur, brushing his lips up your artery – nuzzling against you – his heavy chest resting against your shoulder blades – and you could feel the equally heavy pounding of his heart.

“Listen, Bakugou… whatever you think you miss, it doesn’t exist.” You state flatly. “Dominic and Suzie aren’t real.”

Those had been your names. Dominic and Suzie, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. Your identities for three months. But now, no more.

“But they can be…” Bakugou whispered back, tugging you a little closer – then released a small breathless laugh. “We always used to say we’d get married one day, remember? When we were brats…”

A small smile creased a dimple on your cheek at the memory, but only for a small second before you remembered everything he’d put you through after. “We’re not brats anymore. And honestly-” You catch your tongue and never finish the thought. It’s so long ago it doesn’t matter.

You sigh, knowing you’re lying to yourself. 

You relax again and drop your head back to rest on his shoulder, overlapping his hands with yours. “In retrospect, we should have filed for replacement from the start.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You pause a little bit, weighing whether you want to tell him or not. “I felt I had something to prove.” You confess. “You’ve always made me feel worthless, so when I was presented with the opportunity to rub it in your face, the child in me couldn’t resist.” 

You thought it would feel like a victory, a sweet revenge, but in the end, it just made you disappointed in yourself. How could you think playing house with a person you hate would do you any justice?

“It was stupid, and I regret it. I’m better than that.” You add resolutely. “Nevertheless, mission complete. It’s behind us now.”

Bakugou didn’t agree, still holding you the same way he’d done. 

 “You should let go of me.” You sigh again. “I’m not gonna act like Suzie for you, so-”

“I don’t want you to act like Suzie.” He interjected, nuzzling against your neck with a whisper. “I want you... the real you.”

You scoff. “Fuck- Katsuki, look around you. There’s nothing here to want.”

“Let’s make something then.” He argues, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. “It was always supposed to be us two. From the start.”

“What are you talking about?” You won't deny the contact feels good. Good enough to make your voice come out in a moan.

“I’m talking about me and you, anywhere we choose.” He continues with his kisses, and you close your eyes to the feeling but still scoff at the offer. 

“You’re talking about a dream. I’m not leaving my job to chase some fantasy with you.”

There's a silence, and Bakugou’s voice comes out more serious after. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

Your brows furrow, and you open your eyes again.

He still kisses your neck, now with his hands rubbing firm circles in your sides.  

“You were very hard to find…” He mutters. “I doubt anyone would notice if you went missing…”

“Katsuki-” You protest, still calm as you try and push yourself from the counter, but it’s an aimless effort. His touches only grow stronger to keep you in place.

“The bureau would think you’d decided to go private or retire. And given your record, I don’t think they’d spend too many resources trying to find you.”

“Katsuki, let go-” It’s scary, but you’ve been in scarier situations, so you’re able to keep your cool still – despite the chills that run up your spine from his speech. “You’re talking crazy-”

“Living like this is what’s crazy.” He answers.

His apartment looks the same. Nothing personal anywhere except a vain mantle lined with diplomas and trophies he’d received for civic duties when he’d laid his life on the line. Otherwise, it was as stale as a cheap hotel room – no art, no pictures, no carpets, not even a lamp. Just the necessities. Kitchen articles and a bed.

“I need you. And by the looks of things, you need me too.”

[literaila]

he stole my valentine

gojo satoru x fem!reader

a/n: here. forgive me.

last part | next part

*

year two.

megumi is standing there awkwardly, holding something behind his back. his head is hung toward the floor, so you can't see his face, but you have no doubts about the pink twinging his skin. 

“what’s up, bud?” you ask him, shaking off your coat to hang on the rack. 

you’re unused to him being so tense around you. (seriously, you’d think after two years the kid would be a little comfortable around you and your never-ending affection for him). 

“i, um, i got—“ 

“oh, hey you’re here,” satoru peeks his head around the hallway, smiling brilliantly as soon as he sees you. “i think i broke the sink.” 

you blink. “what?” 

“i put some paper towels down there to wipe something up and i think they clogged it, or something.” 

“are you kidding?” 

“yes,” satoru says, but you don’t miss it when he turns briefly and mouths “no” to megumi. 

who only rolls his eyes in response. 

you don't say anything because satoru interrupts you with his smiling face before you can scold him. 

he wraps his arms around your torso, squishing you to him. because he’s clingy. “you’re cold,” he complains, his nose on your cheek. 

“i walked here.” 

“aww, did you miss us?” 

“not you,” you tell him, finally squirming away. “you interrupted megumi. what were you going to tell me?” 

“i—nothing.” 

you frown. “don’t let satoru stop you.” 

“yeah,” satoru smirks, “don’t let me stop you.” 

megumi flushes, but meets your eyes and tries to smile—looking like he’s in pain more than anything. then he pulls a little bear from behind his back, white and red. “happy valentine’s day,” he utters, holding it out to you. “will you be my valentine?”

satoru’s jaw drops, but you go over to the boy immediately, taking the bear and squeezing him to your side. 

“megs, of course i will! thank you,” you coo over him for a moment, pinching his cheeks in classic satoru fashion. “you’re so sweet. and this bear is so cute. i wouldn’t want anyone else as my valentine.”

a little part of your heart that you've let the boy into squeezes when his lip twitches, looking satisfied up at you. 

but satoru pulls the two of you apart, frowning at the boy. “this is not what we discussed.” 

megumi scowls, again, and pushes him away. “you snooze, you lose.” 

satoru’s eye twitches. 

you looked confusedly between the two of them. “what?” 

“we picked out two,” satoru tells megumi. “one for tsumiki, and one for—“ 

“you never said mine couldn’t be for her.” 

“‘cause i thought it was implied!” 

“what did he do?” 

megumi smiles at you. “i’ll go get tsumiki so you can give her yours,” he tells satoru, giving him a smug look before running away. 

“that little—“ 

“don’t name-call the children.” 

“he just stole my valentine!” 

“was this bear supposed to be for someone else?” you look down at it, frowning briefly. 

you will not get jealous of a tiny little stuffed animal. 

“no,” satoru snorts, with the grumpy face he must’ve learned from megumi on. “that brat picked it out.” 

“oh. then why are you mad?”

“he stole you,” he says it as if it's all encompanying and obvious. like you'd planned this beforehand. 

“he—“ you meet satoru’s eyes (glasses), brows raising in surprise. “oh. ha! as if, satoru.” 

he pouts. “you were supposed to be my valentine, not his.” 

you laugh. “he’s eight and he’s already more romantic than you are.” 

“i took him to buy the thing!” he complains. “he wanted to pick one out to give to tsumiki, and i wanted to pick one out to give to you.” 

“he probably got confused.” 

“he didn’t. he stole my valentine.” 

it would be lying to say you didn't find the possession--even the mere thought--a bit enticing. but you roll your eyes. 

“just by the way,” you tell him, finally walking into the house, where the kids sit at the kitchen counter, “i wouldn’t have taken yours.” 

“what do you mean you wouldn’t take mine—“ satoru follows you. “i picked it out for you. i got you a card!” 

not to mention the endless supply of flowers he replenishes for your house every week since he'd brought the first bouquet. the man literally teleports there every monday and throws away the drooping flowers, arranging a new--in-season--bouquet all under your nose. you're shocked when you walk into the dining room after work, and yet you can't quite find it in you to scold him for it (or tell him not to break into your house). 

really, it's the least he can do for all of the trouble he puts you through. 

“aw, i’m sorry, but i already have a valentine,” you tell him with fake sympathy. 

satoru glares at megumi. 

you go over to the boy, ruffling tsumiki’s hair in greeting, and cradling his face in your palm from behind. looking right at satoru. “just look how handsome he is,” you coo, leaning down to press your cheek against his. 

you are very aware that the only reason the boy is allowing this is to mess with satoru. 

“i taught him how to do his hair like that.” 

“and it’s so soft, and shiny…” 

tsumiki laughs at satoru’s offended face and you let megumi go, winking at the two of them. 

and then megumi coughs, pointedly at satoru. 

you and tsumiki share a look. 

a devious smile forms on satoru’s face as he turns around, grabbing something before spinning back with a flourish. “tsumiki,” he says, “miki, my darling girl,” he pulls another wear from behind his back, white and pink, and pleads, “you’re my favorite. will you be my valentine?” 

you raise your brow at the declaration, and tsumiki laughs, admiring the bear. and then she freezes, biting her lip. 

“what?” satoru asks. “you get offended by teddy bears? 

“no, it’s, um…” you both frown and look at each other. “sorry, gojo, but i already have a valentine.” 

cue satoru’s jaw dropping for the third time today. 

you can't hold back a laugh and megumi smiles victoriously at his sister. 

she smiles at satoru, sheepishly, patting his hand. “it's sota, from school.” you grin at her. “and i thought you were going to ask y/n.” 

satoru groans and falls against the counter. “hated by everyone in my family,” he whines, “i work so hard to provide, i plan the perfect valentine’s day—“ 

“i don’t think buying a stuffed animal counts as ‘planning.’” 

“and it’s all for nothing. no one loves me.” 

megumi goes to take the bear from satoru, and the man doesn’t even fight back, just lets the boy take it with no argument, probably not even noticing when it’s gone. 

you laugh at him, again. 

tsumiki pokes him, getting satoru to look at her. “there’s always next year,” she says, trying to be encouraging. 

satoru bangs his head against the counter again, and megumi slithers over to you, holding the bear out. 

“here, i got you two.” 

“megumi!” you say, mock surprised. “you have excellent taste.” 

satoru is going to have a concussion by the end of this night. 

* 

it’s several hours later when you’re tidying up the living room that you catch him. 

“satoru,” you glower, threatening. “don’t touch the ‘gumi bears.” 

he blinks. “are you kidding?” he makes a distasteful face. “‘gumi bears?”

tsumiki giggles from where she’s putting books on a shelf, and megumi turns from dusting the blinds, his brows furrowed. 

“it’s cute,” you tell satoru, shooing his hands away. “i don’t trust you with them.”

“why not?” satoru asks you, fluttering his eyelashes. the picture of innocence. “i’m only going to go burn them outside.” 

“no!” tsumiki says, running over to the couch to block him from them. 

“we won’t let you, satoru,” you say, hands wrapping around the little girl's arms. “you’re just a cynic.”

he pouts. “i’m being punished for my kindness.” 

and then there’s a tap on your waist. you look down at megumi, with his frown. 

“what?” 

“‘gumi bears?” 

“do you like it?” you ask him, teasing. “me and tsumiki came up with it.” 

he looks between you and his glowing sister—literally, her widest, most precious smile on—and finally sighs. 

“yeah,” he murmurs. though it sounds like a struggle to get the word out. “i like it.”

“‘gumi!” tsumiki squeals, tackling him onto the couch in a hug, giggling when he goes stiff but doesn’t fight her back. 

satoru taps your hand, and you turn to him with your brow raised. he does not say anything, just hums while smiling at you. 

“what?” you ask, amused. 

and then you turn to catch his hand trying to strangle the bears, and you tackle him onto the couch. 

but satoru, unlike megumi, acts like that was his plan all along, squeezing you into a hug you can't break away from. 

*

next part | series masterlist.

[samandcolbyownme]

Wet Dreams | Colby Brock

Prompt: Colby telling reader,  "Were you dreaming about me again, sweetheart?"

Summary: After a night of drinking with your best friend, you guys walk to her boyfriend, Sam's house to crash, and his friend, Colby, is there. You’ve had wet dreams about him, but you don’t know that he knows until he tells you.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol consumption, oral (f rec), biting, scratching, choking, rough/semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, creampie, [mostly cute] name calling, praising, literal filth

Word count: 3.6k | somewhat edited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You were feeling tipsy by the second drink, and you were drunk by the fourth.

Those double shots will do it.

"Why don't you go talk to him?" Y/f/n says nudging you out of your stare on a random guy at the bar, "You've been staring long enough." She finishes her drink, "Or is it because he kinda looks like Colby?"

Your head snaps towards her and you shake your head, laughing slightly as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, "No, no. That's not wh-"

"How long have we been friends?" She tilts her head as she looks at you, causing you to sigh, "Forever."

"Exactly. So why don't you just tell Co-"

"He doesn't like me back." You say looking down. Y/f/n leans in slightly, "Did he tell you that himself?" You shake your head, "No, bu-"

"No. No buts. You're going to get drunk, then we're going to walk to Sam's house and you-"

"Whoa, wait. We're sleeping at Sam's?" You ask knowing there's a good chance Colby will be there too, "I didn't know this."

"I told you before we came here, stop trying to find excuses not to spill your feelings for Colby." She pushes your shoulder gently, "I'm telling you, y/n. Just talk to him. You never know what might happen."

She turns to get another drunk and you sigh, thinking about what she said. You've had a huge crush on Colby, ever since Sam introduced you guys to him.

You've hung out multiple times and yeah, maybe there something there, but you're scared it's just you feeling that way.

"Here. Drink up." Y/f/n shoves a glass into your hand and turns to grab hers, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check it, "Oh. Here." She holds her phone up, taking a selfie as you smile with your cheek pressed against hers.

"Saving that." She says with a smile, "We look so drunk, but still cute! Now let's dance a little before we leave."

A little turned into two more hours of drinking and dancing, your heels hurt your feet, you're aching to get out of them, but that's not the only thing you're aching for.

Colby's smile flashes in your mind, along with the thought of his ring covered fingers dragging up and down your skin and touching you where you needed him most.

"I told Sam we'll be on our way soon, so one more drink?" She bites her lip as she looks at you, waiting for you to agree.

You think about it for a moment before letting out a sigh, "One more couldn't hurt."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Shut up. No that picture is atrocious." You groan as you snatch y/f/n's phone from her. You both can't walk in a straight line so save your lives, so you're bumping into each other every other minute.

"No it's cute!" She bites her lip taking her phone back, "I also may have sent this to Colby." She turns her phone and it's a, not bad at all, picture of you standing at the bar. Your dress was riding up a little too high, almost revealing your ass.

"No." You mumble out, "Tell me you didn't!"

"I did. And I'm not sorry."

You pretended to hate her for it, but that quickly vanished as you actually love her for it.

"There they are." Sam says walking out of the door, "How was it?" You both start giggling and he raises his eyebrows, "Oh, wonderful. You're both still drunk." He laughs with a sigh, "Come on. I got pizza for you guys."

"Ooh, pizza." You and your friend look at each other and laugh because you said the same thing at the same time.

"Oh, y/n." Sam says getting your attention. You look up at him, still smiling. He looks over at y/f/n and back to you, "Colby is here."

Your smile drops and your anxiety starts to race, and it's worse because you're drunk, but you play it cool, "No surprise there." You laugh slightly and walk in with your friend.

"Colby! They're here." Sam announces as he shuts the door. You turn, eyes wide, "You didn't have to announce it." You mumble through gritted teeth. He smirks and walks over to y/f/n, hugging her from behind.

Your eyes stay on them as they smile and laugh, wishing that was you and Colby.

"Well hello, hello." Colby says as he walks down the steps, "On a scale from one to ten, how drunk are we tonight?"

Colby's presence makes you nervous, you don't want to make a fool of yourself. Y/f/n giggles, "I'm at an eight right now." She looks over at me and raises her eyebrows.

You sigh and set your purse on the counter, "I'm ready for bed." You walk towards Colby to go upstairs and you avoid eye contact as you walk by him.

But you can tell his eyes are on you the whole time.

You can hear y/f/n trying to whisper but you hear everything, "I tried to talk to her, I even told her about the picture I sent to you. I don't know why-"

Her voice fades out as you walk into where she keeps her clothes. You didn't bring anything, considering you forgot you were coming to Sam's.

As your rummaging through your friends drawer of the dresser, something lands on your head and you can hear Colby trying not to laugh. You pull the shirt from your head, turning to look at him.

"Thought you'd be more comfortable in that." He smirks slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the door way, "If you need anything else, let me know."

His eyes move up and down your low-coverage dress and he tilts his head before walking away. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded but you roll with it.

You make your way to the bathroom, switching the shower on before stepping in. You gasp at how good the water feels on your drunk body, but you sober up a little by the time you get out. You wrap a towel around your body, peaking out before you make your way to find y/f/n.

You know on their door and you can hear Sam talking on the other side but he tells a quick, "Come in." You open the door slightly peaking your head in, "Y/f/n?"

Sam reaches over from his desk and taps her ankle, "Babe, y/n wants you." She groans as she sits up but trudges over to you, "Talk to Colby yet?"

"N-no. That's not why I'm here. I need underwear." You say quietly. She giggles slightly, fighting back saying any kind of comment, "Mhm."

She walks over, grabbing a pair from her drawer, "These are new, but they won't be after tonight." She winks and you roll your eyes, "Sure."

You pull the door shut, turning to walk back down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms and freeze when Colby walks out of the other one.

"Hey." He smiles, and god do you love his smile. You smirk slightly, giving him a low, "Hey" as you walk by him.

"Wait." He says and you stop instantly, hesitating to spin towards him, but you do, "What's up?" He steps towards you, looking down at you as he gets closer. His chest is inches away from yours and he sighs, "The dress you wore tonight, made it so fucking hard for me to not come down there and take you out of that place."

Your breath hitches and you grip your towel tighter, actually wanting him to rip it off of you, but you couldn't muster up enough confidence so you just force a small smile, "Really? Why?"

He chuckles lowly, "I think you know why." He walks down the steps, looking back at you from over his shoulder before disappearing into another room.

Why couldn't I just fucking do it, you think as you mentally beat yourself up, get over yourself, Jesus Christ.

You make your way into the room you're staying in for the night and change into the shirt Colby threw at you. You pull it up, smelling it to see if it smells like him, and it does.

You fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling until you eventually pass out.

"Yeah, baby. Just like that." Colby moans into your ear as he has his cock buried deep into your aching cunt.

You whimper out as his hand slides up, squeezing the sides of your neck, slowly adding pressure.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart." His voice is low and deep, groans escape his lips with each slow thrusts into you, "C'mon baby. I need to hear it."

"Y-ou.. Colby." You whimper out, "I want you. All of you."  You reach back to grab his arm but he pins it to your lower back, "Say it again." He releases the grip on your throat and slides his hand up the back of your scalp and grips a handful of hair.

"Colby." You gasp out, "Fuck, yes. Please. Please. I need you. I need yo-"

You gasp awake, sitting straight up as you look around the semi dark room. You sit in silence, trying to hear if anyone is up, if anyone heard anything from you.

You hear Sam and Colby yelling back and forth, they must be playing their games, so they must have headsets on, so they probably didn't hear you.

Or so you thought.

You swallow, wincing at how dry your throat is. You get up, slowly and quietly making your way to the door and slowly opening it. You peak your head out, looking down the empty hall before stepping out and making your way down stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

But what you didn't know, is that Colby's door was open, just enough to see you move past.

As you're standing in the kitchen, eating a slice of cold pizza, you feel a presence move into the room and you freeze.

Please don't be Colby, you think repeatedly, please don't be Colby.

"What are you doing up?" Colby's voice flows through the room, "I thought you'd be knocked out like y/f/n is."

You shrug, "I needed a drink and then I got hungry." You glance over at his shirtless figure and back down to your glass of water before taking a big gulp.

You set your pizza crust down and lay your hands on the counter, "Well, I'm going to get back to bed." You walk around the other side of the island, but you're stopped by an arm extended over your chest, "Now hang on."

You feel cornered, but you really aren't putting up any kind of fight.You stand there, slowly looking up at him, "I hung on, can I go to-"

His bluntness cuts you off, "Were you dreaming about me again, sweetheart?"

You stand there, staring at him in a shocked and embarrassed state, "I-i, no. Why.. why would you-"

He smirks, moving his body closer to yours, "I heard you. So no need to pretend you weren't."

"You heard, what exactly?" You ask trying to see if he really knows. His hand comes up, his thumb lightly drags against your bottom lip, "my name, a few times."

He slides his hand to cup your cheek, "and some other sounds I wish I couldn't heard better."

Your breath hitches as his hands slide down your sides, "I knew you would look good in this shirt." You look down at his shirt but his hand quickly lifts your chin and his lips are on yours and you give in fully to him.

"Colby." You whimper against his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into him, "Please."

He smirks as he leans back, "Not until you tell me what you were dreaming about." He lifts you up into the counter, "I want to know what I was doing to you in that pretty little mind of yours."

You let out a low groan as he leans in to kiss your neck slowly, "come on, baby. Be a good girl and te-"

Being called a good girl seemed to be the key.

"Can we go upstairs? I don't want anyone else hearing this." You bite your lip as you lean back and he nods, "C'mon." He slides you off the counter and your hand is still in his as he takes you upstairs into the room you're staying in.

He shuts the door and your back is instantly pressed to it, his voice is low, "Start talking, princess." He presses his lips to yours, "I want to feel you sooner than later."

He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, "I was.." you breathe out as you look down at him, "dreaming about you.. and me." You run a hand through his hard hair and bite your lip, "You buried yourself in me as you choked me."

His breath hitches and he clears his throat, "Is that all?"

You shake your head and lean in to kiss him. Your lips move in sync for a couple of moments before you pull away just enough to speak, "You were telling me to beg for you basically, telling me to tell you that I needed you."

He tilts his head back, licking his lips as he walks you over to the bed, "I've dreamed of having you beg for me." He lays you down, his body perfectly still between your thighs.

"Please, Colby." You lay a hand on his cheek and he smirks, "Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me." You whisper almost inaudible, "I need you."

His lips crash onto yours, making out with you until you drag your nails down his back. "Fuck." He groans lowly as he sits up. You whimper at the loss of his touch and go to sit up, but stops you, "Just lay back, princess. Let me take care of you."

You bite your lip, lying back as you await his touch. You feel his hands slide up your legs, "You're so beautiful." He whispers, "I should have just came and got you."

He dips his head in, licking up your pussy which causes you to moan and you slap a hand over your mouth, not wanting to disturb the others.

"Mm, move that hand. I wanna hear you." Colby looks up at you and you move your hand and look down to meet his gaze. You watch him as he grips your thighs, going back to enjoying how you taste on his tongue.

"Colby.." you whine out and tangle your fingers in his hair, "Fuck, so close." You whimper and tug his hair, earning a low groan.

He slides his hand over, his middle finger rubbing circles on your clit as he whispers a low, "Cum for me, baby."

You grind your hips against his hand and mouth, moaning as you arch your back off the bed, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He groans as you clench around his tongue, desperate for that first orgasm. You gasp loudly as it hits, slightly twisting your body as he keeps your hips pinned down.

"Shit." You say breathless as he stands up. Your eyes move to him and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him discard his sweats, leaving him naked.

He crawls back up, "How was I fucking you in that dream you had?" He brushes hair from your face and smirks down at you, "I just want to make it come true."

You smile and tilt your head, "You had me flipped over, ass in the air."

"Roll over." He leans up, watching as you comply with his demand, "Shit." His hands lay on your ass and he squeezes, "so fucking sexy."

You him lowly as you wiggle your hips, "Colby.. baby please.."  he smiles at you calling him baby, "What do you want?"

"You." You say instantly, "You, Colby. Please.. I need to have your cock inside me." You whimper and push your hips back, "Please."

He slides his hands up your back and lightly drags his nails against your skin on the way back towards your ass. His actions send chills up your spine and you moan, "Colby.."

He lifts himself up, positioning his cock at the entrance of your needy cunt, "Keep begging, baby." He rubs the head of his cock against you before pushing in, groaning out as you clench around him, "Fuck, y/n."

His hands grip your hips tight and his eyes roll shut as his hips meet your ass, "What do you want me to do?"

"Choke me.. please." You tilt your head up and he slides his hand up around your neck, squeezing slowly, "Never pictured you to be this much of a little slut baby."

There's no hesitation when you answer him, "Only for you."

And he loved it.

His hand squeezes around your throat, hard as he starts thrusting his cock in and out, "You feel so fucking good." He groans out, "Let me hear you, baby."

You let out a moan, gripping the blankets below you as his thrusts become punishing. You feel that build up again, moaning out as you much as his hand on your throat will allow.

"Tell me what you want." He says as he lets go of your throat, "Tell me what you need from me." His hand tangles in your hair and he tilts your head back, whispering in your ear, "Do you want me to fill that pretty pussy for you?"

"Y-yes." You gasp out and push your hips back, "Yes, yesyesyes." You squeeze his cock and he groans, "Fuck, not gunna last much longer, princess." He kisses the back of your shoulder, biting and sucky a hicky onto your skin, "You sure you want that?"

You moan, "Colby, yes. I need you to cum in my pussy."

He moans at your words, thrusting his cock in and out of you slowly, "Cum for me first, okay? Then you can have me."

You reach back to grab his arm but he pins it to your lower back and lets go of your hair. He leans back up, keeping a hold of your arm and your hip, "Fuck, fuck."

You rest your head down, moaning into the bed as you cum around his cock. He reaches down, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up, "Don't hide those pretty sounds from me, princess."

Your eyes roll back as another surprise orgasm comes back and slams into you. Colby raises his eyebrows, "Fuck, again?" He smirks and listens as you whine out for him.

Moaning his name over and over again.

You were completely his.

You are his.

"Sh-shit." He grips your hips with both hands and pulls you back as he pushes his cock all the way in, fucking his cum into you as deep as he can.

"Holy fuck." He sighs as he pulls out, laying beside you to make sure you're okay, "Y/n?" He whispers, "Look at me."

Your body rests flat on the bed and you turn your head to look at him. He brings his fingers up to gently grip your chin, "You alright?"

You nod against the bed, "Mhm." He smiles and leans over to kiss your forehead, "So was that better than your dreams?"

You nod and sit up slightly, "How did you know I had more than one?"

He smiles and licks his lips, "Remember last week when we were driving around looking for that one bridge?"

You nod and he continues, "Well you fell asleep right before Sam and Y/f/n went into the store, and you were whimpering my name."

"Oh." You blush slightly, "Sorry."

He shakes his head, "No, no. I felt honored that you were dreaming about me." He bites his lip as his eyes can over your face, "Took all I had not to wake you up and fuck you right there in the backseat."

Your lips twitch into a smirk, "Well I give you full permission to do it next time. And the time after that, and any time you want."

He pulls you in and kisses you, "Deal."

The next morning, you wake up, snuggled against Colby's side with his arm around you. Your back is to the door, with the hickey he gave you on your shoulder on full display to y/f/n who was nosey and looked in because Colby wasn't in his room.

You heard quiet whispering but shrugged it off until Sam yells, "It's about fucking time." You jump slightly and Colby sits up, making sure you're covered, "Dude!"

Sam laughs, "I thought that's why you got off last night. Good for you guys."

"Yeah, thanks. Thanks." You rub your eyes and run a hand through your hair, "Now beat it."

They hold their hands up and Sam points, "Have fun you two."

"Bye Sam." Colby says still holding the blanket over your body until the two leave and close the door. You look at Colby with a laugh, "I think they're more excited than us."

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you for reading! If you would like to see anything specific, just message me!

You can find this on Wattpad here

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[new-fandom-scene]

Speechless

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Tim's lights are on, but nobody seems to be home.

Word Count: 1,572

By the time Tim and Angela made it out and into the bar, the usual nine to five crowd was already deep in "weekend mode". Groups of girlfriends were giggling while taking shots of cheap tequila. Packs of guys were working their way through pitcher after pitcher of beer. Weaving through the loud and lively crowd, Wesley already had their usuals sitting at their table for them. Lopez hums in content as she greets Wesley with a kiss and a grateful smile. "This is how it should be at the end of every week", Lopez declares before raising her bottle and clinking hers against Wesley and Tim's glasses.

"So now you're expecting me to be sitting pretty nursing the first round, just waiting for you guys to get here every Friday?" Wesley looks to his wife incredulously and rolls his eyes. "I think I'll pass". Angela shrugs dismissively, taking a sip.

"Obviously not every week, Babe. You and Tim's next lady can alternate every other week". Now it's Tim's turn to roll his eyes.

"Right, because a beer wench is all I'm looking for in a partner. No offense, Wes". Wesley shrugs.

"Since I have no choice but to accept this fate, maybe I can help find my new coworker? There's gotta be a single girl somewhere in my department. I can ask around on Monday". Angela takes her turn to roll her eyes.

"I so need my husband to ask around about the single women at his office", sarcasm dripping with every word. Lopez tips her bottle all the way up, getting the last drop, before setting it back down on the table. "Timothy will get a pretty lady soon enough. But right now, he's gotta get the next round."

Stiffly, Tim stretches his arms out wide and lets out a sigh before pushing himself up from the table. "Next round comin' up". Turning swiftly, Tim makes his way to the center of the bar, but not before bumping right into someone walking the opposite direction and back towards their table. Instinctively, Tim catches the victim of his unwareness by the waist, steadying her before fumbling any further.

"I am so sorry!" You say, rubbing your hands together anxiously. "I definitely thought I was paying attention, but there are so many people, I- I'm so sorry!" You try to search for any signs of anger or frustration on Tim's face, but you don't find any. In fact, you don't even think there's anyone home upstairs, from the looks of it.

Tim's mouth hangs open slightly as he stares at the woman in front of him. A million thoughts running through his head as none of those thoughts are actually making it to his mouth as tangible words. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone as breathtaking as you, or stunning, as he is literally stunned in front of you. "Ar-are you okay?" You ask again, bringing him a little back to reality. Tim nods, still frozen in place from the shoulders down. "Umm, okay then. Since we don't need to exchange insurances or anything, I should be heading back". The last thing Tim wants is for you to leave his space, but those words are still taking their sweet time getting to his mouth. "Sorry again, have a good night!" You say as you awkwardly shuffle around him and head back to your table of friends. Tim still stands there, analyzing everything, until Angela begins to laugh and Tim's defense mode starts to kick in.

"Someone better be home up there before the squatters try to break in!" Angela jabs while Tim slowly brings himself down to sit at the table.

"Was it- was it that bad?" Tim looks to Wesley, who grimaces. Tim clenches his jaw.

"She might as well have been Medusa with how stonely you stood, man" Wesley shakes his head. "But you know, there's always room for bouncing back". Angela throws her head back with laughter.

"Next round says you can't come back from that", she challenges. Tim swallows hard. It couldn't have been bad beyond recovery, right? He shakes himself out of it and the adrenaline starts to course through his body. Looking out beyond their booth, Tim spots your head bobbing as you weave your way back to the bar. Time to man up, Bradford, he thinks to himself.

"Get your card ready, Lopez", Tim smirks as he pushes himself back up and towards the bar. Angela smiles to herself.

"It'd be Wesley's card anyways!" She calls back, but her voice gets lost amongst the sea of people Tim wades through to get to where you're standing and waiting to be served. You can do this, Bradford. You're a very handsome boy." Shaking any anxieties out of his body, he taps you on your shoulder. You turn around to investigate, blushing nervously with a shy smile. Tim can feel himself begin to seize in front you, and, for not knowing him pretty much at all, you're starting to feel that he is too.

"Let me guess, you have an injury and we actually do need to exchange insurances?" You chuckle. Tim opens his mouth to speak, but is met with, yet again, an empty house. You're usually never this forward, but you've got a couple of drinks under your belt. Guess you gotta taken the reins on this one, you think to yourself. "You know, what? I've actually got the shittiest insurance, maybe we should just exchange numbers instead so I can make it up to you? Think grabbing dinner could compensate for the value of your injuries?" You suggest, rocking back and forth on your heels. "I-I'm (y/n) by the way", you add and stick your hand out for him to shake. "Guess I should have said that earlier". You pray that your hand isn't sweaty as you hold it out for him, simultaneously searching his face for any signs of life.

Her hand! Shake her damn hand! Tim yells at himself internally and pushes himself to stick his hand out to meet yours. Tim notices how perfectly your hand fits with his, memorizing the softness of your skin. "T-Tim", he says to you, which comes out more as cough or gasp for air. Your shoulders visibly lower in relief that you hadn't stuck yourself out there for nothing.

"Nice to meet you, Tim", you smile and continue to shake his hand. Tim can't keep his eyes off you, taking in every sparkle in your eyes and how your smile could honestly fix any hard day's work that he's ever had. He notices how there seems to be one piece of your hair that's about to fall in front of your gorgeous face and he resists the urge to reach out and stop it from happening. What else can I say? Think, handsome boy, think. Shit, we're still shaking her hand! He drops your hand more abruptly than he liked to, a rigid smile and nervous chuckle following.

"I like burgers!" Tim says loudly, also more abruptly than he liked to. Your smile widens as you let a hearty laugh escape.

"I like burgers too!" You say with just as much energy. Now it's your turn to make him chuckle. You watch as his body relaxes into a more comfortable stance. "Easing up a little bit, I see?" You tease, stepping slightly closer to him. Tim shakes his head and smiles, his gaze returning to yours with an amazed smile on his face.

"I don't believe I've ever met anyone that has actually left me speechless", he admits to you. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable in any way". You smile and swat your hand playfully dismissive.

"Don't worry about it," you smile. "I just hope burgers are enough to compensate for taking away your personal space and your breath away". Tim rolls his eyes playfully.

"Hey, I was still breathing" he lazily defends. "But a burger and some more of your time would certainly be a good start towards my compensation". You nod, impressed, and motion with your hand for Tim's phone. He opens it and places it into your hands for you to enter your phone number.

"How about your people talk to my people, and we can discuss proper reimbursement?" You hand the phone back to him with a smile. Tim reaches out and gets a hold of the phone, his fingers lingering over yours for just a moment before putting it back in his pocket.

"Sounds like a good start to me," Tim agrees, reluctant to leave your area of space. "I'll call you, (y/n). And I'll actually have more words this time", he promises and watches your smile get brighter and cheeks get rosier. He swears he'll do whatever he can to always make you look at him like that.

"I can't wait to hear them," you say. "It was nice to meet you, Tim". He smiles and nods before waving a small goodbye and heading back to an expectant Angela and Wesley.

"Where's my drink at?" Angela asks. Tim shakes his head slowly while pulling out his phone to show them your number. The husband and wife clap slowly, very impressed and surprised by the turnaround.

"So, where's my drink at, Lopez?" Tim shoots back, teasing. Angela looks to Wesley, eyebrows raised. Wesley sighs before pushing himself up from the table.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it".

[sky-is-the-limit]

Omg girl those firefighter headcanons 😩 can we have some for our Captain? The way you write them is so canon I can't get enough 😩

P: Chief!Price x F!Civilian Reader

CW:SFW/NSFW, Unprotected P in V, No prep

Notes: CFO = Chief Fire Officer.(Highest Rank)

Firefighter!Gaz

CFO!Price who would answer the call himself when he heard it was a gas leak late at night, figuring he’d handle it personally since it was quiet.

Arriving in the fire command vehicle, he'd knock firmly on your door, his expression all business, though his gaze softened when he saw you standing there in an oversized tshirt, hair tousled from sleep, with clear anxiety etched on your face. ''Alright, love, I’m here now.'' He’d say in that deep, reassuring voice of his. ''Let’s have a look, yeah?''

CFO!Price who would take his time checking every corner of your flat with intensive care, making sure to run every test twice. The whole while, he'd keep his eyes focused on the job but couldn't help the occasional stolen glance at your legs peeking from under that oversized shirt.

He’d feel a twinge of guilt when he caught himself staring a little too long, quickly averting his eyes and focusing back on his work. He was the Captain, after all. He couldn’t let his professionalism slip, at least not yet..

CFO!Price who would notice the way you bit your bottom lip, your brows furrowed with concern. So he'd make sure to use a softer tone when speaking, expression gentle, ''It’s all routine, don’t you worry.'' He’d murmur, even though his mind was racing with thoughts that made him shift uncomfortably. His blue eyes would meet yours just for a second, and he'd quickly look away, cursing himself for feeling like a rookie again.

CFO!Price who would be taken aback when you started calling him 'sir' in that sweet voice, finding it hard to keep his composure when you leaned down next to him, your eyes wide and curious as you asked about the equipment he was using. Your hand would brush his arm lightly, and he'd feel a warmth spread up his neck.

"You’ve got a knack for this, don’t you?" He’d joke lightly, his gruff exterior softening just a bit. When you offered him a glass of water and some homemade biscuits, he'd accept, just to see that radiant smile of yours.

CFO!Price who would pretend to stay focused on his tools but his eyes would keep drifting to where you sat on the counter, legs crossed in such a way that, if he were to look up, he’d catch a glimpse of those black satin panties.

He’d clear his throat, trying to banish the thought, but the idea of those soft thighs squeezing around his head would be driving him insane. He’d have to remind himself he wasn’t some 20-year-old who couldn’t control his urges.

CFO!Price who would raise an eyebrow when you mentioned paying him for his time, knowing full well that there’s no charge for fire department inspections.

''There’s no need for that, love.'' He’d say, his eyes narrowing slightly at your playful tone but when you’d lean in with that cheeky grin, batting your lashes and saying there must be something you could do to thank him for his hard work, he'd feel his resolve slipping.

CFO!Price who would tell himself that no one needed to know, that after years of maintaining his professionalism, he could afford this one indulgence. After all, he was still a man, and you were making it clear that you wanted him as much as he was starting to want you. He’d fight the internal battle, reminding himself that he deserved to experience this, just this once.

CFO!Price who would, after washing his hands and ensuring everything was safe, start walking towards you with a different purpose. The job was done, but he wasn’t ready to leave and so, his hand would slide onto your thigh, feeling the softness of your skin beneath his calloused fingers. He’d take your chin in his other hand, lifting your face to meet his gaze, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur. ''I can think of a few things you could do to thank me, sweetheart.''

CFO!Price who would find himself captivated by your insistence that no prep was necessary, your body already so aroused that you needed nothing more.

When he dropped his uniform pants and guided your hand into his boxers, the sudden touch of his erect cock against your palm would elicit a gasp from you. The size and heat of him would make your previous confidence waver, but your need would drive you to dismiss any hesitation.

CFO!Price who would guide your delicate hand along his thick, throbbing length, his breath catching as you explored every inch of him. The intensity of your touch and the way you traced his girth would make his second thinking crumble further. He’d watch your expression closely, his eyes dark with desire as he discovered how eager you were for him.

CFO!Price who would murmur, "Such a good girl for me." as he pushes you back onto the counter, his broad hands firmly spreading your thighs apart. Your pussy’s already dripping, slick coating your inner thighs, and he groans low in his chest, soaking in the sight of you, so ready, so needy for him.

His cockhead nudges against your entrance and he’s got his eyes locked on you, taking in every little gasp, every flutter of your lashes as he sinks the first few inches into your tight heat. Your walls stretch around him, clenching down hard, and you let out a sharp moan, nails biting into his biceps.

CFO!Price who would slide his hands under your ass, gripping tight as he pushes deeper, stretching you open inch by inch. The burn of him is overwhelming, but your wetness makes it easy, makes you crave it. He'd whisper rough and focused, "You feel that, love? So tight, so fucking perfect for me."

Each word is like gravel, setting your skin on fire as he thrusts in fully, hips meeting yours with a sharp smack that has you crying out. Your back arches, tits pressing up against his chest, and you can feel the rumble of his groan vibrating through you.

CFO!Price who would pull back just to thrust in hard, setting a slow, punishing rhythm that has your thighs trembling around his waist. His cock drags against your slick walls, every inch filling you perfectly, hitting spots that have your toes curling. You're dripping down onto the counter, the lewd, wet sounds of your slick mixing with his grunts and your high-pitched moans.

"Fuck, John-" You whimper, your voice breathless as your fingers curl into his hair, tugging him closer. He rewards you by sucking on your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he mutters filthy praises against your ear.

CFO!Price who would grab one of your legs, pushing it up against his side, opening you even wider for him as he pounds into you harder. You can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock stretching you out, and it makes you gush even more.

His rough thumb would come down to press on your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles that have you bucking your hips against him, chasing that high.

CFO!Price who would watch you, absolutely wrecked and spread out for him, his name a desperate cry on your lips. "Look at you, taking me so well." he'd growl out thick with lust. "Knew you were trouble the moment I saw you."

CFO!Price who would feel you tighten around him, your walls squeezing as you edge closer to that peak. He’s relentless, plunging into you so hard you see stars, your mind blanking out from the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb on your clit speeds up, pressing down harder. "Come on, love," he’d urge, strained with his own mounting need to fill you up. "Cum for me. Show me how much you fucking need this." And you do as he says, your body locks up and then you’re cumming, gushing around him with a yelp that has your nails digging into his back.

CFO!Price who would keep thrusting through your orgasm, your pussy gripping him like a vice, milking his cock. His thrusts become erratic, hips snapping forward with a desperation that sends shocks of pleasure shooting through you.

He’s close and you can feel him throbbing inside you, thick and heavy. "Gonna fill you up, yeah?" he’d grunt, his pace frenzied now, chasing that final high. And with a few more deep, rough thrusts, he’s spilling inside you, his hot cum flooding your already slick walls.

CFO!Price who would stay buried deep, both of you panting and spent, his cock twitching as the last ropes of his cum seep out of you. He'd lean down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his beard scraping against your sweaty skin. When he finally pulls away, breath ragged, he’d rest his forehead against yours, giving a light chuckle. "That’s one way to thank your local fire department, eh?"

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 33,577 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

The habit of loneliness settles in between, and the flame they thought in deep slumber rekindles, burning with their long time unattended needs.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[ellecdc]

helloooo, I am not the one who requested the reactions to a needy reader but I would love to see the reactions when they’re NOT in a relationship! Please and thank you ❤️❤️😘

ooooooou ok ok ok ok based off of this ficlet-ish thing here, the original prompt was:

how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk) would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀

so, this is the not in a relationship edition: mature content ahead, viewer discretion is advised

James:

turns so red

eyebrows raised so far up his forehead that his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose

takes him a few moments to restart his brain

nervous laughing

"oh, erm, haha, well...I mean...I, I'm not sure what it is you're looking for but, erm, well...."

he does eventually spit it out that he'll help you out if you were serious

I think he'd be the kind of guy that it would be like, super casual? sort of transactional/you two kind of giggling or bumbling your way through it -> "ow!" "oh shit, sorry, y'alright?" "yeah, sorry, can we just.." "like this?" "yeah that's better" like, giggling fits through out sort of deal

either way, he does help you out - you both agree to let each other know when you can help the other out again

Sirius:

cocks an eyebrow at you and looks you up and down with a salacious smirk

"is that so?"

he let's that sit in the air for a few minutes as he shifts in his seat and returns his 'focus' to his books (though he's anything but focused now), still wearing a shit-eating grin

"if only there was someone here to help you with that."

you start looking around the room to see if there is indeed someone who will help you with that, seeing as Sirius is obviously fucking useless

you finally sigh "I'll go see if anyone in the common room is game"

he slams his books shut and hastily grabs his things, grabbing you roughly and dragging you out of the library

absolutely fucking ravishes you in a broom closet - you're worried you won't be able to walk back out on your own

leaves marks on you just to prove a point

"you're not going to find anyone else who can make you feel better than me, doll. let me know when you find yourself needing my help again"

Remus:

definitely a little blushy; I see him being somewhat shy at first if he doesn't know you too well / doesn't know where exactly he stands with you because he'd never want to make anyone feel uncomfortable

likely ask you to "come again"

when you tell him that's exactly what you're trying to do (😉😉😉) he's blushing again and laughing nervously as he looks back at his book/whatever he'd been doing prior to that

get's a little stuck in his head about it: you were bold enough to complain to him, should he be bold enough to offer you his help? is that even what you were trying to accomplish? were you just confiding in him as a friend? who complains to their friends about being horny? would someone like you even want a guy like him?

well, what's he got to lose by offering? if you laugh in his face, he can just avada himself later (rem has a dark sense of humour, sorry)

finally clears his throat and awkwardly offers his assistance if you want, though he refuses to make eye contact with you as he does.

he's surprised by how quickly you accept but he hastily finds an empty class room and spreads you out on a desk to go down on you - he doesn't want you returning the favour; he's hoping if he makes you feel good, you might come back for more

Regulus:

see, him I see getting shy and walking away

face blanches when he realizes what you've admitted

perhaps he's not sure you were actually asking him/if you were simply confiding in him

basically sits frozen in his spot until he can't take it anymore

says something stupidly awkward like "well.....good luck with that!" and hastily leaves the room

definitely bangs his head against the wall in his dorm when he realizes what a fuck up that was

absolutely jerks off in the shower later fantasizing about all the ways that conversation could have gone differently

Barty:

I think it'd be the same as the other fic?

"Barty? I'm, erm, well....I'm feeling kind of......needy?"

Barty shrugs and just stops whatever he's doing, turns to you and says "okay, take your clothes off/lift your skirt"

and then suddenly you're like "........????"

rolls his eyes at you. "well? do you want my help or not?"

"I, uhm, well...."

"Salazars saggy balls, no wonder you're so strung tight - no one will fuck you if you can't get a simple yes out."

"yes! Okay, yes....." you admit finally

shit eating grin spreads across his face

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into"

.....all this to say, he certainly helps you out lol

[fayes-fics]

Ripe, Like Fruit

Pairing: Vampire!Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Set two weeks after Enthralled. Benedict appears on All Hallow’s Eve, and your husband is not home…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, mentions of blood drinking, bloodplay, cunnilingus, facesitting, creampie & vaginal sex

Word Count: 0.7k

Authors Note: Set in the same world as Enthralled. Just a little scene that came to me last night, so I am posting it for Halloween. If there’s interest, I could write more. @colettebronte kindly gave this a once over. Dividers by @/firefly-graphics. Enjoy! <3

“Where is our fine Doctor tonight?”

Benedict's rich baritone rings out through Dorset House, making you jump. Once again, he has materialised seemingly from the ether. 

“Away,” you explain once you have modulated your breathing. “Tending to a sick patient. We received a visitor on horseback stating that he was urgently needed at Bingley Hall. He took off on our fastest steed not a half hour ago.”

Benedict draws closer, the flames from the nearby fireplace dancing in his eyes as he does so. The room suddenly notches much warmer, even in just your simple silk house dress.

“So… ‘tis just us?” he checks as the hallway clock softly chimes 11pm.

“It would appear so,” you titter, unable to hide your quake of nerves, watching as he glides across the room towards your drinks cabinet.

You have yet to spend time with Benedict without your husband. It has only been a fortnight since you met this man, well creature, well, no, being. 

“Vampire,” he supplies helpfully, raising a laconic brow as your eyes dart to meet his.

Sometimes, you forget he can read your thoughts.

He makes his way back over to you, handing you a glass of wine, dark red, like blood.

“Tis not,” he assures with a crooked smile, once again knowing the contents of your mind. “A toast?”

“To what?” you blurt, drawn to the flash of his incisor glinting in the soft candlelight of your drawing room.

“To us,” he rumbles portentously as he clinks his glass against yours. “Alone at last….” he adds, holding your gaze hypnotically.

He takes a long, indulgent sip, ensuring your eyes track his throat as he swallows the viscous drink, Adam's apple bobbing prominently under alabaster skin.

Something flares in your stomach as you mirror his actions, taking a sip and feeling the weight of his stare upon your jugular vein. Trepidation mixed with arousal, wanton desire, more than a tinge of reckless abandon. You have never given yourself to this man without your husband present. This would be something else entirely.

He takes the wine from you, moving in, smelling of smoke and damp earth, petrichor in human-like form. His nose buries into your hairline, and he takes a deep inhale, scenting you. 

“You always smell so… ripe. Like fruit. Succulent berries awaiting devourment…” 

Just those simple words alone have you trembling for him. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips as he kisses along your jawline, your hands encircling his biceps, the fine black wool of his jacket tickling your palm. A tartness blooming on your tongue that is mesmeric.

“I want to sink my teeth into every inch of your pristine skin…” His voice is decadent and dusky, your heart pounding as he moves to worry your throat. A slight shudder races down your spine as his fang traces your pulsing artery, lightly snagging your skin. “So many things I want to do to you….” he trails off as you find yourself pliant in his arms, under his thrall once again.

He effortlessly turns you around in his arms, crowding into your back. The press of his rigid cock into the cleft of your bum is unmistakable. His mouth works its way across the top of your exposed shoulder as you pant lightly, every cell in your body thronging for him to take you, make you his again, as you have been ever since that fateful night. 

“I want to hold you down and drink from you and fuck you, then do it all again. I want to taste my seed dripping from inside you. I want to bite your thigh while you writhe upon my face after we fuck. Your blood, your cum and mine, I want to taste it all….”

His filthy soliloquy has you barely able to stand, swooning back into his solid mass, needing every filthy, debauched thing he promises. A large hand stoops low, gathering your dress until he can run his cool palm up your quivering thigh, not stopping until he is cupping your bare, soaked cunt.

“What do you say, my goddess? Will you permit me? ‘Tis All Hallows Eve after all…..”

Who are you to resist?

masterlist • wips • taglist (follow this blog to be tagged)

No taglist, as this is so short.

[imloyaltoscoups]

reckless plan | choi seungcheol

As you and your friends stood outside the dimly lit bar, the vibrant buzz of the night enveloped you. You leaned against the brick wall, a few drinks deep, feeling the warmth of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Suddenly, a thought sparked in your mind, and without much filter, you began to vocalize it.

"Guys, hear me out on this okay?" you slurred slightly, gesturing emphatically with your hands, "I want my first time to be in a one night stand."

Your friends exchanged glances, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Whoa, slow down there," one of them chuckled nervously. "Isn't that a bit… reckless?"

You shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Maybe. But think about it. No strings attached, no pressure. Just pure, unadulterated fun."

Another friend chimed in, concern evident in their tone. "But what about safety? And you know...emotions?"

You waved their concerns away dismissively. "I'll be careful, don't cha worry. Plus, I have a condition."

Now thoroughly intrigued, your friends leaned in closer, awaiting your next revelation.

"I want it to be with a foreigner," you declared boldly. "Think about it. If it's with someone from another country, the chances of running into them again are slim to none. It's like a perfect one-time thing."

Your friends erupted into laughter, shaking their heads in disbelief. "You, my friend, have some wild fantasies."

But you remained undeterred, a glint of determination in your eyes. "Just watch. It'll happen, and it'll be amaziiing."

As you took a sip from your drink, swirling the liquid thoughtfully in your glass, you added another criterion to your list.

"He's gotta be handsome as fuck," you stated emphatically, punctuating your words with a decisive nod. "And taller than me obviously. Body can be anything, as long as he's got that irresistible charm."

Your friend couldn't help but interject, a mischievous glint in their eye. "But what if this handsome guy turns out to have… well, you know, a micro penis?"

You paused, considering the question for a moment before responding with a shrug and a playful smirk. "We can always find other ways to have fun, right? Inserting his small dick isn't the only option. Besides sex toys were made for a reason"

Your friends burst into laughter, shaking their head in disbelief. "You really do have it all planned out, don't you?"

You chuckled in response, raising your glass in a mock toast. "Hey, when it comes to giving away my virginity, I've gotta have some standards."

Your friend grinned, teasingly remarking, "So, looks is still important to you, huh?"

You simply grinned back, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you took another sip, leaving the question unanswered.

As the conversation flowed and the night wore on, one of your friends suddenly declared, she needed to head back to the hotel, her words slightly slurred, you couldn't help but groan in disappointment.

"But it's only 11 pm," you whined, feeling a bit betrayed by the early end to the night.

Your friend shot you a glare, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Gurl, we started drinking at 7 pm at the restaurant, remember?"

You blinked, trying to recall the earlier hours of the evening through the haze of alcohol. "Ohhh, right," you muttered sheepishly.

Your other friends chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it's probably best to call it a night. We're not as young as we used to be," one of them remarked with a chuckle.

Feeling a twinge of sadness at the premature end to the evening, you couldn't resist teasing them. "Is this what being an adult feels like? Can't even hang out past midnight without feeling exhausted?"

They laughed, acknowledging the truth in your jest. "Guess so," one of them replied with a shrug. "We just don't have the same energy we did back in college."

As your friends continued to express their exhaustion, you interjected with a playful smile "You guys, we're on vacation!" you exclaimed, trying to inject a spark of enthusiasm into the conversation. "Getting tired is a big no no."

Your friends exchanged tired glances, but a hint of amusement flickered in their eyes at your insistence. "Yeah, but even on vacation, we need to pace ourselves," one of them reminded you gently.

You sighed, realizing the truth in their words, but still unwilling to let go of the excitement of the night. "I know, I know," you admitted reluctantly. "But can't we just pretend to have the energy like in our teens?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of their lips as they shook their heads affectionately. "Nice try, but reality calls," another friend replied, already starting to walk in the direction of the hotel you guys staying to.

As you all walked together, the glow of the streetlights casting a soft halo around your group, one of your friends piped up with a mischievous grin, "Hey, why don't you stay here? Who knows, you might just find that handsome foreigner you're looking to hook up with."

You paused, considering her words for a moment. Why not, indeed? The idea of finally shedding the weight of your virginity had been on your mind for years, and now, in your late twenties, perhaps this was the perfect opportunity.

With a determined nod, you made up your mind. "You know what? Yeah, I should stay" you replied, a spark of excitement igniting within you.

Your friend's eyes widened in mock shock before she quickly recovered, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. "Just make sure to use protection! We're not ready to be aunties yet!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and genuine concern.

You laughed, waving her off dismissively. "Stop worrying, I've got it covered", you turned around to your friends to head back to the bar, a sudden rush of nerves fluttered in your stomach.

As you walked back towards the place, lost in thoughts of anticipation and excitement, you suddenly collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie. Startled, you looked up, and the first thing that crossed your mind was, "Deeym, this man is handsome af."

Your eyes met his, and in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. His features were chiseled, his gaze intense yet inviting. A rush of adrenaline coursed through you as you felt a magnetic pull towards him, a primal attraction that you couldn't ignore.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, caught in the intensity of the unexpected encounter. But then, a sheepish smile spread across his lips, revealing the subtle dimples that adorned his cheeks. He then extended a hand to help you regain your balance.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice smooth and velvety. "Didn't see you there."

You managed to stammer out a response, your heart pounding in your chest. "No problem. My fault, really."

As you straightened yourself up, you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was somehow significant. Instead of heading inside the bar as originally planned, you decided to take a detour, you scanned the area for a quieter spot to gather your thoughts. Spotting a cozy bench nestled in a nearby alcove, you made your way over and settled onto it, relishing the moment of solitude.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly typed out a message to your friends, your fingers dancing across the screen as you recounted the unexpected encounter.

"guys, u won't believe what just happened! ran into the most handsome guy eveeer existed. keelll meee 😭" as you hit send.

Your phone began to buzzed with notifications from your friends, you eagerly opened the group chat to see their reactions. Their messages flooded in, filled with playful encouragement and teasing.

"MAKE A MOVE! NOW!!11!" one friend exclaimed, followed by a chorus of emojis and cheeky remarks.

You chuckled at their enthusiasm but couldn't help but feel a twinge of shyness creeping in. "im shy, u girls know that," you typed back, accompanied by a sheepish emoji.

Their response was swift and merciless. "Shy? Come on, You?! Where's that boldness you were talking about earlier?" another friend teased, their message punctuated by laughing emojis.

Feeling a mix of amusement and embarrassment, you shot back, "hey, flirting and making the first move are two different things! 🫠🫠"

But they weren't about to let you off the hook that easily. "true, but how do you expect to seal the deal if you're not even willing to make a move? go get that dick!🤪🥴💦🍆🍆" another friend quipped, their message followed by a string of emojis.

You couldn't help but laugh at their relentless teasing, knowing they only had your best interests at heart.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you fired off one last message to your friends. "just go to sleep, seniors. see ya tom 😘"

As you slipped your phone back into your pocket, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing up, you found the handsome stranger you bumped into earlier, standing before you, a can of beer in hand, and a tentative smile on his lips.

"Mind if I take a seat?" he asked, gesturing to the empty space beside you.

A surge of excitement washed over you as you nodded eagerly. "Be my guest."

As he settled onto the bench beside you, you couldn't help but steal a glance at his profile. Up close, he was even more striking, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. His eyelashes, long and delicate, frame his eyes like curtains to a captivating show. His nose, perfectly proportioned, gives his face a distinct charm. And his lips, a soft shade of plum, seem almost inviting, teasing your mind with the thought of how they might feel against yours.

Before you could let your mind wander, you decided to mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation. "So, what brings you out here?"

You blinked in surprise at his straightforward response, momentarily taken aback by his boldness. But a spark of amusement danced in your eyes as you processed his words.

"A hook up, huh?" you replied with a playful smirk, trying to match his cheekiness. "Well, that's certainly... direct."

He chuckled softly, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as he took a leisurely sip of his beer. "Life's too short to beat around the bush, don't you think?"

His nonchalant attitude caught you off guard, but you couldn't deny the allure of his confidence. "I suppose you have a point," you conceded, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But isn't it a bit risky, being so upfront about your intentions?"

He shrugged casually, his gaze meeting yours with a steady intensity. "Maybe. But sometimes, taking risks is the only way to get what you want."

As he took a leisurely sip of his beer, he leaned back against the bench, a casual demeanor masking the mischief in his eyes. "You know," he began, his tone casual yet tinged with intrigue, "I overheard a rather interesting conversation earlier."

Your eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition dawning as you realized what he was alluding to. "Oh?" you replied, attempting to maintain your composure despite the sudden rush of embarrassment.

He grinned knowingly, his gaze locking with yours. "They were talking about this wild idea one of them had. Something about wanting to have a one night stand with a foreigner, just to lose their virginity," he teased lightly, his words sending a flush creeping up your cheeks.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a cheeky smile, offering you his drink. "Care for a sip?" he asked, his gaze playful yet intense.

Caught off guard by his boldness, you felt a rush of nerves coursing through you. But you couldn't resist the temptation, so you nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip.

As the cool liquid slid down your throat, you couldn't help but glance at the can, your voice barely above a whisper as you muttered, "Was I really that loud?"

As he continued the conversation, his tone playful yet probing, he raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity. "So, let me get this straight," he began, his gaze fixed on you. "You flew all the way out here just to lose your virginity?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his bold question, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "Well, it's not like it was the sole purpose of the trip," you hurriedly explained, attempting to downplay the situation. "More like… a bonus plan, you know? And I'm with my friends, so it's not like I'm flying solo or anything."

His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ah, I see. A little adventure on the side."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at his understanding response, grateful that he didn't judge you for your candid admission. With a shy smile, you took another sip of the beer, savoring the moment.

Taking a deep breath, you shifted the conversation, handing his drink back to him with a playful smile. "So, if you're out here looking for a hookup, what brings you to this very spot?" you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

He accepted the drink with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Touché," he replied, taking a leisurely sip before meeting your gaze. "I guess I just needed a change of scenery. Figured I'd try my luck out here tonight."

His response intrigued you, prompting a surge of questions to bubble up inside you. "And has your luck been good so far?" you pressed, unable to resist the urge to tease him.

He chuckled, his laughter echoing in the night air. "Well, let's just say I've had worse nights," he replied cryptically, his smile widening.

Your heart raced as you entertained the bold idea swirling in your mind. Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath before speaking. "You know," you began tentatively, "why don't we cut to the chase? You're looking for a hookup, and I… well, I'm in the same boat. So, why don't we just… have sex?"

The words hung in the air between you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous anticipation. It was a daring proposition, but the logic seemed valid, two consenting adults with mutual desires, seeking a simple solution to satisfy their needs.

He regarded you with a mixture of surprise and intrigue, his gaze searching yours for a moment before a slow grin spread across his lips. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

Relief flooded through you as you realized he was on board with the idea. As he rose from his seat, a confident smile gracing his lips, he extended an invitation towards you. "Well then, why don't we take this somewhere more private?" he suggested, his voice low and inviting. "My place isn't too far from here."

You nodded, a thrill coursing through you at the prospect of what lay ahead. "Sure, why not?" you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

As you walked side by side, he broke the silence, introducing himself as Seungcheol. You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, realizing that despite the hours of conversation, you had never exchanged names.

But when he turned to you, expecting your introduction, you simply shook your head, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "No need for names tonight," you said. "After all, this is just a one-time encounter. Why bother with formalities when we'll likely never see each other again?"

He grinned, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Fair enough," he conceded, his hand gesturing towards the direction of his place. "Let's just enjoy the night."

As you entered his house, you slipped off your shoes and followed Seungcheol further inside. The air was thick with anticipation, each step echoing the pulsing beat of your heart.

Casually, he glanced at you, breaking the silence. "So, have you had other forms of intimacy before?" he inquired, his voice low and probing.

You paused, considering his question before responding. "Just third base," you admitted, a hint of nervousness tinging your voice. "Nothing more."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "Third base and no sex, huh? What were you waiting for?" he teased, his words laced with playful incredulity.

You bristled slightly at his teasing tone, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice. "I wasn't ready that time," you replied, your tone firm.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "And now you are?" he teased, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

You met his gaze with determination. "I wouldn't offer you to fuck me if I wasn't ready, Seungcheol" you retorted, your tone tinged with conviction.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, that's true," he admitted, his tone light and teasing.

As he led you to his bedroom, you felt a surge of excitement coursing through you, the anticipation building with each step. Unabashed by his gaze, you decided to seize the moment, shedding your clothes with confidence.

He watched you undress, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your boldness. "You really want to lose your virginity, huh?" he remarked, his tone teasing.

You met his gaze head-on, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "Gonna make the most of it," you replied, your voice laced with playful determination.

Feeling the heat of the moment intensify, you closed the distance between you and Seungcheol, your hands sliding sensually over his shirt as you asked him, "Are you gonna leave me hanging?"

His eyes smoldered with lust as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Not a chance," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Now, lay down on the bed."

Obeying his command, you positioned yourself on the soft sheets, your heart pounding with excitement as you watched Seungcheol begin to undress. Each article of clothing fell away, revealing more of his toned physique, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of hunger coursing through you.

As he stood before you, completely exposed, you couldn't help but admire the sight of his body. Relief flooded through you as you realized he didn't have a small dick—on the contrary, it was quite big and thick, with prominent veins snaking along its length.

You gulped down nervously as you lay on the bed, feeling the weight of Seungcheol's gaze upon you. Thoughts raced through your mind as you contemplated whether his sizable member would fit inside you.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize that Seungcheol had noticed your hesitation until he spoke up, his tone teasing. "Backing down already?" he mocked, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

You bristled at his taunt, a surge of defiance rising within you. "Of course not," you replied, mustering up your courage. "Just... admiring the view."

His smirk widened at your response, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well, don't take too long," he teased, his voice dripping with innuendo. "I'm not one to wait around."

As Seungcheol approached the bed, a mischievous glint in his eyes, you felt a surge of anticipation coursing through you. With a confident posture, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his gaze never leaving yours.

With a devilish grin, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. The kiss was slow and sensual, igniting a fire within you as you melted into his embrace.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed feather-light kisses along your jawline, down your neck, sending shivers of pleasure cascading down your spine. His hands explored every inch of your body, tracing patterns of desire along your skin.

His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as he teased and tantalized every nerve ending. His lips trailed lower, tracing a path of fire across your chest, pausing to lavish attention on your sensitive nipples, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you.

You couldn't help but moan in response, your hands tangling in his hair as you urged him on. "Don't stop," you gasped, your voice laced with desire.

With a wicked grin, Seungcheol obeyed, his mouth continuing its journey southward, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your abdomen. He reached the apex of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he teased you with feather-light touches.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as he teased you, inching closer and closer to where you ached for his touch. "Please," you begged, your voice thick with need.

With a devilish smirk, he finally gave in to your pleas, his tongue flicking out to taste you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. As he delved deeper, exploring every crevice with expert precision.

A low moan escaped your lips as he found your most sensitive spots, his movements sending sparks of ecstasy dancing across your skin. You arched your back, urging him on, lost in the whirlwind of sensation that enveloped you.

Feeling emboldened by your response, Seungcheol shifted his focus, his fingers replacing his tongue as he delved deeper into your core. With each stroke, you felt yourself unraveling, your body responding eagerly to his expert touch.

Your hips began to move instinctively in response to the rhythmic motion of Seungcheol's fingers, each stroke sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly as the intensity of his touch heightened, your senses overwhelmed.

His tongue joined the fray, swirling and teasing your swollen clit with a tantalizing expertise. You gasped as the dual sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through every nerve ending, your back arching off the bed as you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation.

As you reached waves of pleasure, you gradually let it subsided, Seungcheol's voice cut through the haze of bliss, his breath hot against your ear as he made his request. "Could you do the same for me?" he asked, his tone filled with desire.

You nodded eagerly, your own desire fueling your determination to bring him the same level of pleasure he had bestowed upon you. "Of course," you replied, a smile playing on your lips.

Kneeling down next to the bed, you positioned yourself as he instructed, your arms bracing yourself on either side of his hips. With a sense of anticipation coursing through you, you bent your arms at the elbows and leaned on them, balancing your body as you prepared to pleasure him.

Seungcheol lay back on the bed, his hips spread apart, his legs hanging off the edge. His gaze locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of lust and anticipation, as you prepared to take him to the heights of his own ecstasy.

With a steady hand and a sense of purpose, you began to lavish him with your touch, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of his throbbing length. With each flick and swirl, you could feel him tensing beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure built within him.

Lost in the rhythm of your movements, you focused all your attention on bringing him pleasure, determined to repay him for the ecstasy he had given you. And as you felt him teetering on the brink of release, you redoubled your efforts, eager to send him over the edge into blissful oblivion.

And finally, with a guttural moan of pleasure, Seungcheol surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation, his body trembling with ecstasy as he reached the peak of pleasure. And as he collapsed back onto the bed, spent and sated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you had brought him the same pleasure he had bestowed upon you.

As he released himself, his essence flooding your mouth. Without hesitation, you swallowed it eagerly, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

A satisfied smile curved Seungcheol's lips as he brushed his thumb across your lips, collecting any lingering traces of his release. He brought his thumb to his own mouth, tasting himself with a low groan of pleasure.

"God, you're incredible," he murmured, his eyes smoldering with desire as he gazed at you.

His words sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, but as he reached for a condom, you stopped him with a gentle touch.

"Wait," you said softly, meeting his gaze with determination. "I want to do it raw. I'm on birth control, so it's fine."

A smile spread across his lips as he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and trust. "If that's what you want," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Confidently, you positioned yourself on your back, anticipation coursing through your veins as Seungcheol hovered above you. But as he entered his length, you gasped in surprise, the sensation overwhelming you as you realized the full extent of his size. Tears welled in your eyes as you underestimated just how much you could handle. "Is it... all the way in?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Seungcheol responded with a low growl, his desire evident in the way he pressed himself deeper into you. "Not even halfway," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

Holding him tightly, you buried your face into his neck, the sheer size of him overwhelming you. "It's too big," you whimpered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Please... don't move."

Seungcheol could feel your distress, but he also felt a surge of pleasure as you embraced his cock. Despite his own arousal, he was quick to offer you comfort. "We can stop if it hurts too much," he reassured you, his voice tender and caring.

Shaking your head, you refused to give up, determined to see this through. "No," you whispered, your tears falling freely now. "Just... stay still for a moment."

As tears continued to fall down your cheeks, he gently kissed them away, his touch soothing against your skin. "Take a deep breath," he murmured softly, his lips brushing against yours.

Following his instruction, you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself against the overwhelming wave of sensation. And as you gathered your courage, you whispered a request for him to move slowly.

He nodded in understanding, his movements becoming more measured as he began to thrust into you. Unable to bear the intensity of the moment, you instinctively covered your face with your hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming sensations.

But Seungcheol was having none of it. With a determined growl, he took your hands and pinned them above your head, his gaze intense as he demanded your full attention.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm but gentle. "I want to see your face."

Meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. As Seungcheol's thrusts grew rougher, the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you soared to new heights. You couldn't help but moan his name in ecstasy, your body responding eagerly to his every touch and word.

His dirty talk only fueled the flames of desire burning within you, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine. "Your pussy feels so good, baby," he growled, his voice laced with primal need. "Clamping down on my cock like that."

His words sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and as he placed his lips onto you, devouring your insides with a hunger that matched your own, you whimpered in bliss.

With each thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his movements becoming faster and more urgent as he chased his own release. And then, with a primal growl, he came inside you, filling you with his essence as you both collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs and ragged breaths.

As you caught your breath, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body, Seungcheol's voice broke through the haze.

"You haven't come yet," he accused, his tone teasing yet insistent.

Before you could respond, he swiftly turned you over, positioning you on all fours. Gripping your waist firmly, he pulled you closer to him, his hips moving with a primal urgency as he penetrated you deeply from behind.

The new position allowed him to penetrate you even more deeply, intensifying the pleasure as he thrust into you with a relentless rhythm. With each powerful movement, you felt the tremors of pleasure building within you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

As Seungcheol's hand found its way to your swollen clit, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. With each thrust, his fingers worked magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves, intensifying the pleasure to dizzying heights.

"Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea as your body trembled with ecstasy. "You're hitting me so deep…"

His words only served to fuel the fire of lust within you, and you couldn't help but respond with desperate moans of pleasure. But as the intensity of his thrusts grew, so did the rawness of the experience, and soon tears began to fall from your eyes.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, there was a hint of pain mingling with it, a testament to the roughness of his touch. "Cheol," you whimpered, your voice choked with emotion. "It's… it's too much…"

But even as your tears fell, Seungcheol showed no signs of relenting, his thrusts growing even rougher as he continued to drive you towards the edge of oblivion. And as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensation, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly what sex was meant to be—raw, intense, and filled with a potent mix of pleasure and pain.

As Seungcheol felt your voice reverberating around him, a primal growl escaped his lips, driving him to new heights of arousal. With each moan and whimper that spilled from your lips, he felt his length growing even bigger inside you, stretching you to your limits.

"Fuck," he hissed through gritted teeth, the sensation driving him wild with desire. With each movement, he pinned your back against the bed, his hand pressing firmly against your skin as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.

The combination of his rough touch and the overwhelming sensation of his length filling you completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite the intensity of the experience, you couldn't help but respond with desperate cries of pleasure, your body trembling with bliss beneath him.

As the overwhelming sensation consumed your body, you couldn't help but succumb to a second climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves. Your body quivered with ecstasy as you rode the wave of ecstasy, your cries of pleasure mingling with Seungcheol's primal groans as he followed you over the edge.

With a guttural moan, he collapsed on top of you, his body heavy with exhaustion as he caught his breath. Despite his weight pressing down on you, you welcomed the intimacy, relishing the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

He shifted to the side, spooning you from behind, his cock still buried deep inside you, you felt a surge of contentment wash over you. With each pulse of his cock, you could feel him releasing more of his seed, filling you with a sense of completeness that you had never experienced before.

Feeling the exhaustion creeping over you, you began to close your eyes, the events of the night still swirling in your mind. Seungcheol's voice broke through the silence, but you were too drained to respond. Sensing your fatigue, he simply hugged you tightly, closing his eyes as he drifted off into sleep.

The next morning, you were roused from sleep by the vibration of your phone on the nightstand. As you reached for it, you felt a strange sensation between your legs, and to your surprise, you discovered that Seungcheol's cock was still inside you. Trying to stifle a gasp, you carefully removed it, ensuring not to disturb him as he slept peacefully beside you.

Quietly fixing yourself up, you slipped out of his place and made your way back to the hotel. However, upon your return, you were greeted by the surprised faces of your friends, who presented you with a cake adorned with the words "I just had sex."

With a playful smile, you accepted their jests, but as you made your way towards your bed, exhaustion washing over you again. But before you could even settle in, your friends eagerly gathered around, shaking you with excitement, urging you to spill the details of your escapade with the handsome man.

As your friends gathered around, eager to hear the details of your night with Seungcheol, one of them expressed concern about your abrupt departure. "Did you even say goodbye?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

You shrugged nonchalantly, dismissing her concern. "It's a one night stand, that's how it works," you remarked, trying to downplay the situation. "You have sex, and then you're done. No need to linger."

Your friends exchanged uneasy glances, clearly feeling bad for Seungcheol, but you brushed off their concerns. "He was looking for sex too, remember? It's a win-win situation," you insisted, trying to convince yourself as much as them.

Despite your outward bravado, deep down, you couldn't help but question whether losing your virginity in a one night stand was truly the right decision. But as you pushed aside your doubts and buried yourself under the covers, you knew that the night's events had left an indelible mark on you—one that would linger long after the morning light had faded away.

....... ≿━━━━━༺S.COUPS༻━━━━━≾ .......

[feyascorner]

Food is not something he's indulged in since he was turned.

He must've enjoyed it once, as every other undead being he's surrounded by. But when he lifts a wine glass to his lips or sips at a broth, all he can do is scrunch his nose, disgusted by the way it tastes. The only thing that satiates him now is blood. He's gotten used to it by now.

So why in the hells he'd thought he could make you soup to soothe your aching throat, he has no idea.

Surely, it can't be terribly difficult? Just a few vegetables, broth, and a pretty bowl to put it in. It would make you feel better if you didn't have to get up and cook for yourself, and he'd get to sit by your side, teasing the way you seem to sneeze every few minutes.

Unfortunately, he's finding that he was horribly wrong.

"You can't feed them this!" Gale exclaims with a groan. "It really is a simple recipe, surely you can make this much."

Astarion glares at him, then back down at the pot of soup sitting pathetically on the stove. He sees Gale testing it one more time with a spoon and shuddering, flinching at the taste. He would taste it himself if it weren't for the fact that it would taste terrible regardless of the culinary quality, but alas, all he can do is narrow his eyes at the deceiving concoction in the pot.

The wizard sets down his testing spoon and sighs. "Look, we can try again tomorrow. We should really feed them soon, anyway."

Astarion frowns. He's killed people and defeated dozens of monsters, and he's brought down by this? A bloody soup? All while getting scolded by Gale, of all people?

He hasn't even tried the soup, but he feels a bit sick.

"Oh, did you guys already cook?"

His ears perk at the sound of your voice, and you pace into the kitchen, wrapped in one of his many blankets. His chest swells at this, but hells if he'd ever show that on his face. "You should be resting, darling."

"I will. I'm just hungry," you sniffle, reaching for the pot of soup. And before Gale can stop you, you're already pouring yourself a serving, and you slowly lift the bowl to your lips, taking a long sip while the said wizard gawks.

Astarion's eyes never leave your expression as you bring the half-empty bowl down to the counter, swiping at the excess in your mouth. You seem in thought, raising a brow before turning to Gale. "Are you experimenting with recipes?"

"It's certainly not one of my makings!" he recoils, almost offended. "I'm afraid I have to give this honor to my friend, here."

Astarion rolls his eyes, readying himself for your criticism of his cooking. He knows you wouldn't be as inelegant as Gale when speaking your concerns about the damned soup, but he thinks it might have more of an impact on him anyway, simply because it's you.

Getting his feelings hurt over a bowl of soup would certainly be a new low for him.

You stare at him for a moment in a painful silence before lifting the rest of the bowl to down the rest. Even Astarion blinks this time, watching in utter disbelief as you drink the soup like the finest wine in Faerun.

And when you set the bowl down, you shrug. "It's good."

Gale's jaw drops, but all Astarion does is stare at you with wide eyes. You yawn, trudging back to your room without another word, his blanket trailing behind your heels. He only snaps out of his trance when he hears Gale sigh obnoxiously loud at his side.

"It's your lucky day. It seems the sickness has rendered her tastebuds malfunctioning."

Despite the embarrassing way, he feels the tips of his pointed ears flush, Astarion cracks a triumphant smile.