#they grab onto one point i say and take their turn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowersforbucky · 2 days ago

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omg, i'm so excited to make my way through your masterlist after reading this. idk how i missed this when you first posted it but i'm so happy to have read it NOW. i loved each and every one of the 13k words. thoughts under the cut -

"must own insane stock in eyedrops" 💀😂

Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload.

this is so descriptive 🤌🏻

You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view.

ahhh i love the way you described how her powers feel! i always love both writing and reading empath readers and you're killing it!

The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain.

literally stunning the way you worded all of this my god

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic.

“Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

i can so clearly hear logan saying all of the dialogue that you write for him

the scene of her helping him through the nightmare and him asking her to stay and they cuddled? yeah i ate that shit UP

i loved the whole scene between reader and wade! i feel like a lot of people struggle to get wade's characterization right (myself included) but the way you wrote his dialogue came across so naturally.

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you.

damn i know i shouldn't be turned on rn but something is wrong with me so

Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him.

YEAH GET HIM!!!!

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.”

soooo happy he's being open and letting her in ♡♡♡

He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”

whatever you say baby 😩😩😩

Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”

YA ACTUALLY I DO THANKS FOR ASKING

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

LORDDD I LOVE DIRTY TALKING LOGAN

i truly cannot say enough incredible things about this entire fic. i was so invested from the very beginning. it has so many tropes that i adore and you just really knocked it out of the park. worst logan has a special place in my heart and i just really adored the way you wrote both him and reader. this was flawless, magnificent, truly a beautiful piece.

Til The Sun Turns Black

SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader

WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing

WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.

The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV. You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it.

“I don’t understand why I’m here.”

“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”

You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”

He nods once. “Precisely.”

It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops.

“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”

His words sound insane.

You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?

“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”

You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.

“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”

The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull.

“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”

Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.

“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.

You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you.

“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”

“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice.

The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile.

+++

The Void was bullshit.

It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here.

Maybe.

You weren’t really sure.

Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying.

You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in.

Figure out a way back to him.

Back home.

+++

You don’t venture out unless you have to.

The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.

There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.

Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam.

Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there.

Just in case.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere.

Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly.

The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count.

Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction.

“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight.

You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him.

His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?”

You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet.

“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—”

The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form.

You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.”

Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you.

Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”

For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air.

You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint.

Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”

Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”

His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”

“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic.

You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue.

“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”

His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”

Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air.

The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield.

For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp.

Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight.

His silent encouragement is enough.

You are not dying in the fucking Void.

Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm.

The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black.

The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you.

+++

You wake up in the cache.

Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat.

A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”

Logan.

You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.”

You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion.

Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating.

“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”

You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his.

“I’m a temporal nomad.”

Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism.

You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”

“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”

Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”

“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”

Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”

Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness.

“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”

His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists.

“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”

His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”

“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”

“Stop!”

“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.”

Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low.

His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough.

“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry.

Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.

+++

You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone.

But you can’t think about it.

Not now.

Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours.

Logan.

The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.

“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally.

For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.”

There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care.

Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”

“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”

He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”

His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you.

“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”

Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”

He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”

You hate how your voice breaks just a little.

Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.

He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here.

“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”

Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”

“And can you?”

His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking.

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.

Logan growls. “No.”

“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”

“I left him tied up in the van.”

You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into.

Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space.

“You’ve been living here?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”

Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”

As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds terrible.”

You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”

+++

You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.

You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.

Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.

“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”

Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.

You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.

“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”

Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.

You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests.

As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes.

“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”

You could never deny him in any universe.

The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.

As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.

+++

When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up.

The cabin is empty.

You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine.

Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.

You don’t mention last night.

“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”

Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”

“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.

You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe.

“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope.

Logan huffs. “Probably not.”

“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”

A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”

There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to.

“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly.

His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.”

+++

You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.

Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”

He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.

“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.

“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.”

You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on.

A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself.

Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.

You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”

Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull.

“Really Logan?”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting.

“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him.

Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”

You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick.

Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”

You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”

Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.

“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.

“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies.

Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her.

Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.

You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”

When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.

“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.

Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.

Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.

You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”

“I can help you, Logan.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”

As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”

“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides.

+++

Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”

You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice.

“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”

“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips.

You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”

Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."

With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”

“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”

Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”

“His mutant dick that good, huh?”

You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”

“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”

“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”

Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”

“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.”

“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”

You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”

“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door.

+++

You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead.

The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.

As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.

You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she’s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”

You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.

“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle.

“Enough,” you answer simply.

Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”

“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly.

Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”

“Are you?”

“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”

“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?”

Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”

“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”

You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly.

“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls.

Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before.

“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom.

Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits.

A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself.

You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”

The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind.

You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.

Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.

+++

Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one.

You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating.

You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it.

“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.”

Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”

You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”

Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.”

Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear.

“I am your home,” you reply softly.

Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate.

You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer.

It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air.

A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours.

“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”

He nods once and that’s all you need.

+++

The morning comes quicker than anyone would like.

Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.

Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat.

“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.

He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”

You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”

Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion.

The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”

You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.

Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage.

The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.

A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement.

You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”

“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”

Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws.

She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”

And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole.

You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”.

“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”

Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”

You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain.

You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.

Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.

“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”

You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”

Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”

Cassandra’s face contorts then and…

She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head.

Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.

“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”

Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue.

“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.

Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”

You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.

Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”

You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”

You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain.

Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”

Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”

You nod, “Yes.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”

Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”

You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders.

Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.

“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”

Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.

And then, darkness consumes all.

+++

You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.

Cassandra is gone.

Wade is gone.

And Logan—Logan is gone.

You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”

You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it.

Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.

You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”

Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.

“Welcome home.”

+++

You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants.

You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him.

Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.

“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—“

“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours.

From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“

You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”

“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws.

“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”

Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful.

His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep.

Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel.

There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.

A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh.

Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”

You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”

“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”

Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes.

Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you.

You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”

You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction.

His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.

Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”

His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers.

Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming.

He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly.

“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest.

Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”

You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.

He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready.

“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You’re so beautiful, Logan.”

Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth.

You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements.

“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock.

“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation.

Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.

His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.

“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”

You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan.

“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.”

You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”

It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest.

Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”

He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair.

A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you.

“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”

You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back.

His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck.

Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit.

“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”

You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer.

He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake.

Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs.

“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”

His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you.

“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”

With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you.

Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full.

You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart.

“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours.

“Yes.”

“Even this one?”

“Especially this one.”

You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him.

#logan howlett x reader #fic rec

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limethefirst · 2 days ago

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I've been reading all your recent Shadow fics and they're all SO CUTE!!! It makes me so happy to see where Shadow sort of gets to have a second chance with a new Maria, one where he can keep them safe. I was wondering though, how do you think he would react if they dyed red streaks into their hair to look like him?

Red Hair Dye

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: after a trip to the store you see a hair dye that reminds you of your favorite little hedgehog

a/n: hey guys sorry i was gone this week, school started back up so slow updates and i just went through a break up so just taking things slow, here's your request tysm for your patience! (This reminds me of when I had pink highlights 😭)

The store was quiet, it was late so it wasn't very strange. You walked through the aisles, looking at all its contents. It was a small corner store no more then a 3 minute walk from your place. Light jazz music played as beeping of machines echoed through the front of the store.

You stopped in the hair dye section, taking a look at all the colors, thinking which one you liked best, not that you were sure you were even going to dye your hair. Until you spotted it, a crimson red hair dye that looked like it was on sale.

Pausing, you stared at it a bit before ultimately picking it up. You looked at the brand, knowing it was a trust worthy one when it came to hair damage and color, so without a second thought you quickly shoved it into your basket before continuing to browse a bit more.

The trip was short lived and quickly you found yourself rushing to your bathroom, excited to try the new color you'd bought. Shadow was somewhere about but didn't seem to try and find you, seemingly hearing your rush to reach the bathroom, almost paying no mind to it.

Opening the box you grabbed everything inside, basically dumping it out onto your sink as you sorted through it. The instructions were simple, so you just went with the flow, prepping your hair and sectioning it the way you wanted.

After your hair was ready, you started to mix some of the paint, making sure to add the right amount of color so that it would be bright enough on your hair. After a bit of mixing you grabbed the small brush that came in the box, as well as the gloves. You slipped the gloves on slowly and started to apply the red.

It was a tiring process, taking you over 20 minutes to finally finish. By that point your arms were tired from being held up so long. Swiftly you exhaled and sat down against the wall, making sure your hair wasn't messed up.

A small knock interrupted your waiting. You slightly opened the door, not realizing how strong the smell of paint truly was, as the hedgehog took a quick step back, his nose scrunching.

"What are you doing?" He asked, arms crossed, not being able to fully see you as you hid behind the door, wanting to keep the hair a surprise.

You let out a small chuckle before playfully responding, "It's a secret," Shadow just gave a small sigh, knowing you wouldn't tell him till later with that type of answer.

"Don't take long then" Shadow said before turning away, probably going to go sit in your room, although he'd never say it he found comfort around you more then he did most. It was nice to be special.

You closed the door quickly, and sat in the bathroom a bit longer, waiting at least 30 minutes so that the dye would set. Shadow found it a bit annoying at how long you were taking and he was very curious as to what exactly that smell was, it was like chemicals. Maybe you were cleaning, but the more Shadow thought the more he knew it would not be cleaning.

You took a quick shower, the water was cold to make sure not a lot of dye left your hair. Once you were done the bathroom was a red mess that you'd hope would be able to come off later.

Drying yourself and changing you put on some of the lasting products in the box which were supposed to make the dye last longer as you fixed your hair, excited to show Shadow the result.

Walking towards your room you found Shadow on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed and his posture straight as he kept his gaze steady on the novela in front of him. His eyes quickly changed over to you as he saw you enter, the first thing that caught his attention though was your hair.

It looked like you had red highlights in your hair, he was shocked to see your new look.

"I thought we could match!" You cheerfully said making your way over to him as he saw bits of red.

He let out a small huff of approval, "It looks nice," He now stood up, as you sat on the ground taking in the sight.

"So you like the emo highlights?" You jokingly asked him, knowing how Sonic and his friends had called him the emo hedgehog before.

Shadow just gave you a straight face before walking past you and out your door.

Quickly you sprung to your feet, apologizing as you followed him out, "I was kidding come back!"

#sonic 3 #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic movie universe #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #x reader #shadow #sonic fandom #fanfiction #sonic 3 x reader #shadow x reader #fanfic

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fatecantstopme · 2 days ago

Text

Destination: Motel Feelings

Pairing: Tyler Owens x plus size!reader

Summary: Two friends. One bed. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: it’s just a whole lot of smut, with a droplet of fluff. Cursing, use of pet names, self-esteem/body image issues. Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), pretty fluffy sex overall.

“At least this motel is cleaner than the last one,” you mumbled as you entered the main lobby.

The motel was small, as most were in bumbfuck, Oklahoma, but it would have to do for the night.

“Who’s bunking with me this round?” Boone asked.

“Dexter’s with you. Dani and Lily are sharing, and then it’s me and Tyler,” you answered.

Since the six of you traveled together regularly, you’d made it a point to rotate sleeping arrangements to make it fair. This week was your week to bunk with Tyler. You always hated when it was just you and him, not because of anything he did, but because of how awkward you felt the entire time.

It wasn’t your fault he was gorgeous and charming and funny and smart…the combination of which made you want him with an unhealthy desperation. He was your favorite person to be around, but never alone. You needed a buffer to keep you from being incredibly awkward, or gods forbid, telling him how you felt.

You were certain Tyler wouldn’t be mean about your feelings or make you feel bad, but you were equally certain you weren’t his type. You’d met a fair amount of guys that looked as good as him, and not a single one of them was ever interested in you. You weren’t ashamed of your body, but you weren’t exactly comfortable being the only overweight person in your friend group.

You'd long since accepted the curves that came with puberty, curves that had only grown as you'd gotten older. Not a single part of you was what you would deem small, other than perhaps your height. You had large boobs and the back pain to accompany them, along with hips and an ass you were convinced could stop traffic. Your stomach had long been your biggest hurdle--and your main point of self-consciousness. Suffice it to say you were soft...and Tyler was very much not.

"You don't sound excited to be sharing a room with me, darlin'," Tyler teased lightly from behind you.

You chuckled in response. "I think I'd sell my kidney to stay in a hotel room without any of you for a week."

The rest of the team laughed while Boone and Dexter stepped up to the counter to check-in. Dani went next, grabbing room keys for her and Lily. The four of them went upstairs to throw their bags down, with a promise to be back in the lobby in 10 minutes for dinner.

You and Tyler smiled at the older woman behind the counter as you gave your name to check-in. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at her computer screen.

"Is everything alright?" Tyler asked gently.

"Well, it seems there was a bit of a mix up," she began. "We actually only have one room available."

"That's fine," you reasoned. "We only need one."

The woman nodded, but her expression still looked mildly uncomfortable. "It's--uh--it's a single."

You froze, contemplating the meaning of her words.

"Is there a couch?" Tyler asked, saving you from the discomfort.

She nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. "There is!"

"Then we'll take it," Tyler said with a smile.

A few minutes later, the two of you had your keys and were on the way upstairs to your room. You unlocked the door and barked out a laugh as you took in the space.

Tyler stepped in behind you and let out a low groan. "That's the couch?"

You laughed harder. "I didn't know they made couches that small. It's comical."

Tyler sighed and tossed his bag onto the freakishly small couch. "It's only for a night, right?"

You winced slightly. "At least two...possibly three."

"Shit," he mumbled.

"Ty, I'm not making you sleep on that tiny thing. You're over 6 feet tall...I don't even think you'll fit."

You both turned your attention to the bed on the other side of the room. Somehow, the queen sized bed looked dauntingly small to you.

"I'll, uh, take the couch," you offered.

"This thing looks like it's older than we are," Tyler muttered. "I wouldn't want my worst enemy sleeping on this thing, let alone you."

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely a text from Boone or Lily reminding you about dinner. "We'll figure it out after dinner. I'm starving."

Tyler nodded his agreement and followed you back down to the lobby where the rest of the team was waiting.

**********

By the time dinner was over and you'd said goodnight to the rest of the team, you'd nearly forgotten the predicament awaiting you in your room. Reality smacked you in the face the moment you opened the door and stepped back into the small space, a deep sigh settling in your chest.

"Why don't you get a shower first and I'll figure out how to make this work," Tyler said gently.

You just nodded, not wanting to consider the most logical solution to this particular issue. You grabbed your bag and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You made quick work of your shower and nighttime preparations, slipping on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts.

You stared in the mirror for a moment, lost in a wave of self-consciousness. Every dimple in your thighs was visible, the soft flesh jiggling with your movements. You'd forgotten to throw a pair of pj pants in your bag before leaving home this time, so the shorts were all you had. You sighed, knowing it wasn't gonna get any better than it currently was, so you grabbed your bag and went back out into the room.

Tyler was lying on the floor, a singular blanket and pillow his only form of bedding.

A light laugh accompanied your words as you took in the sight before you. "What the heck are you doing?"

Tyler looked up with an uncomfortable shrug. "Sleeping on the floor. What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're insane," you said lightly. "I don't even want to know how disgusting these floors are...I would much rather sleep on the couch than let you sleep on the floor all night."

"Having sat on the couch already, I can promise you the floor is more comfortable."

You scoffed. "Impossible." You crossed the room and dropped onto the couch with an oomph. "Jesus--this thing is a rock."

Tyler laughed at your obvious discomfort. "I told you. There's no way I'm letting you sleep on that thing. At least one of us needs to get a good night's sleep."

"So why don't you sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the floor."

Tyler glared at you. "Not happening, sweetheart. My mama raised me better than that."

You rolled your eyes. "No offense, Tyler, but I think you're a little too old to sleep on the floor these days. You're gonna wake up with a slipped disk and a hernia."

His laughter brought a smile to your face. "I'm not that old, (Y/N)."

"Well I'm definitely that old--and I'm a year younger than you."

He smirked as he pulled himself off the floor. "You're taking the bed, you muppet."

Your jaw dropped, a choked laugh escaping your throat. "Did you just call me a muppet?"

"Yes I did and I don't regret it." He grabbed his bag and rushed past you to get to the bathroom before you could find something to throw at him.

"Muppet," you murmured under your breath. "He's the muppet."

"I heard that!"

"Get in the shower, Owens!" you laughingly yelled back.

You unceremoniously dropped onto the bed, a sigh breezing past your lips. You were tired and the thought of having the entire bed to yourself was a pleasant one...until you sat up and looked at the makeshift bed on the cold, hard, unforgiving floor.

You knew there was no way you could let him sleep on the floor. While the comments about his age had been a joke, you were both in your 30s now and sleeping wrong could genuinely fuck you up for days. You absolutely couldn't make him sleep on the damn floor.

You glanced at the empty bed beside you and groaned. Sharing a bed with Tyler ranked very highly on your list of most horrifying situations. There was a high probability you would actually combust from embarrassment alone. What if you did something weird in your sleep? What if you kicked him or pushed him out of the bed? What if you accidentally tried to cuddle with him? You would die of mortification.

While you were contemplating all the ways this could go horribly wrong, Tyler came out from the bathroom clad in his boxers and a scandalously tight white t-shirt. You bit your lip, looking away from him hurriedly. You could feel the blush heating your cheeks and you prayed he wouldn't notice.

You cleared your throat quietly before gesturing to the bed beside you. You couldn't quite meet his gaze as you said, "You're not sleeping on the floor, so you might as well take half the bed."

Tyler raised his eyebrows even though he knew you weren't looking his way. "You sure, sweetheart? I don't wanna impose."

You shrugged. "We're adults, Ty. I think we can manage to share a bed for a couple nights without making it weird."

He noticed you still hadn't met his gaze, a fact he chose to ignore. Instead, he opted to use the moment to his advantage, blue-green eyes sweeping over your form, noting the exposed, soft flesh of your legs. He had twin urges to sink his teeth into your thighs and feel them wrap around his head until he couldn't breathe. He quickly shook the image out of his head before those impure thoughts could make their way below the belt line.

"We can put a pillow in the middle if you want," he offered sweetly.

"The bed is a little small for that--besides, we only have three pillows on this damn bed and I'm using two of them."

Tyler chuckled as he scooped up his pillow from the floor and placed it beside yours. He lowered himself onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip with his weight. "Why do you get two pillows and I only get one?"

"Because you like to sleep as flat as possible like some sort of psychopath."

Tyler laughed heartily, his grin widening as he took in the small smile gracing your face. "A psychopath?"

"Retaliation for calling me a muppet."

He laughed again, smacking you gently with his pillow. The action earned him a glare, followed by a slow, teasing smirk. His mind went blank as you finally made eye contact with him. Your pupils swallowed up nearly all of your irises thanks to the dim lighting and the singular lamp on his bedside table cast the prettiest glow on your skin. The only thought that crossed his mind was the word 'radiant'.

He swallowed thickly, forcing the word back down his throat before he could blurt it out. You'd never once given him an indication you felt the same way he did, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

"Alright, weirdo. Turn off that light so we can go to sleep," you murmured, breaking the spell of the moment.

Tyler did as you asked before settling more comfortably into the bed. You laid on your side, back to him, and he felt the urge to run his fingers through your hair--yet another urge he immediately suppressed.

He rolled over so his back was to you and let out a soft sigh. He had to admit he was tired, but being in the same bed with you and not touching you was almost painful, enough so that he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep.

"Goodnight, Tyler," you whispered softly, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, even though you desperately wanted to look at him one more time.

"Goodnight, (Y/N/N)." He paused. "Just do me one favor."

"Hmm?"

"Keep your icy ass feet away from me."

You laughed, swinging your leg back to plant your foot against his bare calf. He swore and nearly jumped at the sensation.

"They're like icicles!"

You giggled. "They're not that bad you drama queen."

He rolled over enough to glare at your back. "That's drama king to you."

You shot a matching glare over your shoulder before you both burst out laughing. You swatted his arm affectionately, trying not to marvel at the firm muscles beneath your palm. "Go to sleep."

He smiled as he faced away again. "Goodnight, icicle."

He heard your breathy laugh as you murmured, "Goodnight, drama king."

**********

The exhaustion must have kicked in at some point because you could barely remember falling asleep when you awoke in the middle of the night. It took you several moments to orient yourself, having forgotten where you were.

In those moments before lucidity settled in, you could feel a radiating heat at your back and you instinctively curled into it, pressing against something very firm.

Then you felt it--breath gently blowing against your neck, something heavy draped across your middle, and someone's very large body pressed against you from head to foot.

Tyler. His name slammed into your brain, pushing you firmly into wide-awake territory. You quickly realized it was his body wrapped around yours, his breath caressing your neck, his arm holding you tightly against him.

You laid there, utterly frozen, as you contemplated what to do. His grip on you was surprisingly firm, preventing you from simply rolling out of his grasp, and there wasn't much room on your side of the bed to escape to anyway.

Somewhere in Tyler's subconscious, he must have felt the shift in your body and the urge to ease your tension was one he couldn't ignore even in his dreaming state.

His grip on you tightened even more, pulling you back against his chest. He pressed forward into you and you shifted slightly in an attempt to distance yourself. In doing so, you wiggled your ass right against his semi-hard member, eliciting a soft groan from Tyler's lips.

With absolute horror, you felt him start to harden even more, the urge to melt into the floor growing with each moment. You didn't want him to wake up and be mortified, so you tried to move away from him without waking him.

Your movements stirred him into awareness, the current situation coming into focus as he awoke. You felt the moment Tyler woke up fully, his body going rigid against yours before rolling away from you with shocking speed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he muttered in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean--shit. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. "You were sleeping--it happens."

He groaned and rubbed his face wearily. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His voice was low and pained, the tone making your chest ache. "You didn't. It's alright." You reached out a hand to brush against his arm. "Hey...look at me."

His body remained tense beneath your fingers. "Ty," you urged.

He finally turned to look at you and he found himself surprised at your open expression. You didn't look angry or upset, in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you looked intrigued.

"No more apologizing," you ordered when he opened his mouth with a clear apology on his lips. "I didn't mind."

Your eyes widened as you realized what you'd just admitted, a bright pink blush quickly deepening your skin.

Emboldened by your words, Tyler leaned towards you slightly. "Which part? Me holding you? Or my obvious physical attraction to you?"

You exhaled sharply. "Your what?"

Tyler's eyes scanned your face and he was certain he saw a whole lot more than intrigue written there--he'd even say it was desire. "Oh come on princess. You felt my reaction..."

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--"

"To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Your mouth opened and closed in an embarrassing representation of a fish before you finally pushed out one word, "Me?"

Tyler smirked, looking around the room. "You're the only one here, sweetheart."

You looked down at yourself before looking back at him, repeating the motion twice before you sputtered, "You-you. No--you...no way. You can't."

He smiled at your fumbled words. "I can and I do. I've never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do."

"Physically?" you gasped in disbelief.

He chuckled. "Physically and emotionally, actually."

Your draw dropped further. "What?"

Tyler stood up and moved to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you. "Let me make this very explicitly clear, (Y/N). Yes, I find you attractive. Yes, I want you. Yes, I think you're incredible. No, I don't just wanna fuck. Yes, I want to be with you."

You stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Am I dreaming?" you whispered.

He shook his head and gently brushed a thumb against your outer thigh. "We're both wide awake, baby."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "That we're awake? Very."

"No--that you want me."

Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically."

You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer."

"Sober as a priest, darlin'."

"So you're just insane then?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I've never felt more sane in my life. I've wanted you since the day you walked into my life, (Y/N). Only way I'm walking away now is if you tell me you don't feel the same."

You stared at him, a look of confused wonder on your face. Never did you think Tyler Owens would be saying this to you...but here he was, literally on his knees, telling you everything you've wanted to hear for so long.

"Of course I feel the same," you said softly. "How could I not?"

He smiled as he slowly pulled himself up, but instead of rising to his full height, he began to slowly crawl onto the bed, forcing you to lay down to accommodate him.

He stopped once you were fully trapped beneath him, lips so close you could feel his warm breath. "Stop me if this isn't what you want," he whispered.

You lifted your head to close the gap between you, lips pressing firmly against his. He groaned into the kiss, immediately deepening it.

You slid your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging him to let you in. He obliged, tongue meeting yours with fervent passion. He tangled his fingers into your hair with one hand, while the other slipped under your shirt to gently rub at your hips.

You were inclined to allow him to kiss you until you passed out from lack of oxygen, but he finally pulled away just enough to suck down a lungful of air.

"If I'd known kissing you felt like that, I would have done this years ago," he murmured.

You chuckled breathlessly. "I haven't been kissed like that in a long time--perhaps ever, if I'm honest."

"Then allow me to make a promise. I will kiss you like that every day for the rest of your life."

You gasped. "That's...a rather intense commitment, Ty."

"Five years, (Y/N)."

"I'm gonna die in five years?"

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "God I hope not. I meant, I have wanted to do that for five years...so no, it's not as big of a commitment as you'd think. I'd think of it more as an honor."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "Who taught you to talk like that?"

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about."

"Books I've read?"

He nodded.

"I had no idea."

"Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you."

"I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

Tyler grinned, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss and pulled him even closer to you, desperate to feel as much of him as you could.

He felt the same way, right hand sliding farther up your side under your shirt, exposing more of your flesh as he went.

His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and he groaned into the kiss as he realized it meant you'd forgone a bra. He moved his hand to properly cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh before brushing a thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped softly and you reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. He allowed you to remove it and proceeded to reach for yours. A wave of self-consciousness hit you and you grabbed his wrists to stop him from lifting it further.

"Maybe we keep it on?" you said softly.

He looked confused. "Why?"

You didn't answer right away. You didn't want to admit to the feelings of self-doubt or acknowledge your body image issues, but you also didn't like the idea of being fully exposed to him. Especially now that you could see exactly how well-sculpted he was.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for an answer to his question. You weren't making eye contact with him, but you weren't telling him to stop, which only added to his growing confusion.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No!" you said quickly. "I just--I don't..."

The confusion on his face was almost endearing. He wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you...and he couldn't understand why you didn't want him to.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

You shook your head immediately. "It's not you at all, Tyler. It's me."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you really would have to be straightforward. "I don't really like the way I look without clothes on." Your voice was low, barely a whisper, but he still heard every word.

Realization hit him like an EF5 tornado. "Who made you feel that way?"

The harsh tone of his voice surprised you, so much so that you finally made eye contact with him again. His eyes were dark and there was a hint of simmering anger in them.

When you didn't answer, he asked again. "Who made you feel like you weren't beautiful?"

You exhaled slowly. "Do you want a list?"

His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists. "No one has the right to make negative comments on your appearance. No one, including you. I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren't a fucking prize, but that's their loss. If you don't feel comfortable showing me your body yet, then I won't push you, but I need you to know I want to see every inch of you...so I can worship every inch of you."

Your lips parted in surprise as you let his words sink in. There was no hint of deception in his voice or his gaze, and it gave you a surge of much-needed confidence.

You sat up just enough to pull your shirt up and over your head before letting your back hit the sheets. Your pulse was racing, breathing ragged, and you couldn't quite make yourself look at him.

Tyler was silent as he beheld your exposed torso, gaze sweeping appreciatively over every dip and curve, mentally marking every spot he wanted to spend extra time on.

He finally looked back up at your face, noticing instantly that your eyes were trained on the ceiling. "Baby. Look at me."

The dominance in his voice, while gentle, left no room for argument. You met his adoring gaze and the last dredges of worry left your body, taking the tension along with it.

He watched your body relax and a small smile formed on his lips. He leaned forward so he hovered over you once more and murmured, "You are absolutely exquisite."

With those four words, you melted, becoming a pliable instrument to his will. He kissed you softly before beginning his descent down your jaw, your neck, to your collarbone, and finally to your breasts.

"I think I'll stop here for a while," he mumbled against your soft skin.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you slid your fingers into his hair. He was true to his word, not a single inch of skin left untouched by either his mouth or hands.

The growing need for him was starting to become more prominent, the slick gathering between your thighs almost to an embarrassing level. As much as you were enjoying the attention he paid to your breasts, you needed to feel him elsewhere.

Before you could voice the need, Tyler continued his descent down your stomach, kissing every little mark he found. He reveled in the feeling of softness beneath his hands, wanting nothing more than to touch your body forever.

"Tyler," you whimpered, need evident in your voice.

He chuckled against your skin. "So impatient."

You squirmed slightly, desperate for some form of friction, a need he, himself, was also feeling. He hooked his fingers in the sides of your shorts and you lifted your hips to allow him to remove the last scrap of fabric from your body.

The sound that slipped past Tyler's lips could only be described as a growl. "That tiny bit of fabric was all that was between me and all of this?"

You nodded, unable to speak as he slipped a finger between your folds to collect your slick. He brought the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning softly at your taste.

"I knew you would be delicious."

He dropped to his knees off the edge of the bed, then grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him. A squeal of surprise escaped you, which brought a smirk to his lips.

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

Your moans immediately drowned out any of the other sounds in the room, and even the ambient noise from outside. Tyler was incredibly skilled with his mouth, even more than you'd always imagined.

His tongue swirled your clit as he slipped one finger into you, gently curling it against the soft, spongey spot that made your toes curl. Your hips jacked off the bed in response, causing him to drape an arm across your abdomen to hold you in place.

"More, Tyler," you begged.

He grinned and added another finger, increasing the pace of the thrusts and his ministrations on your clit. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you neared your peak, desperate pleas to not stop mixed with your moans of pleasure.

Tyler, of course, did not stop. He wanted you to cum as much as you wanted it. He could feel how close you were, your pussy was squeezing his fingers so tightly it was becoming harder to move them. You kept trying to move your hips to grind on his face for even more friction, but he held you in place.

With a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, waves of pleasure filling your senses. Tyler didn't stop until your moans turned to soft whimpers and you squirmed away from him.

He crawled back onto the bed, watching you as you came down from your high. He was certain you'd never looked more beautiful. When he said as much, you blushed deeply and averted your gaze.

"Oh come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now."

You giggled lightly and looked at him again. He looked so damn good it was nearly offensive. You reached for his boxers with a murmured, "May I?"

Instead of answering, he stood up and removed his boxers quickly. You bit your lip at the sight of his very large member. The man gave off big dick energy, so you really shouldn't have been surprised.

You licked your lips absentmindedly as you looked at him. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and flicked your gaze to his face. He was surprised by the hunger evident in your expression and he suddenly felt his need for you intensify.

He took a step towards you as if to crawl back on top of you, but you shook your head. "Lie down," you commanded softly.

The look in your eyes had him obeying immediately. As soon as he'd laid down, you climbed onto him, straddling his thigh. Your soft hand wrapped firmly around his cock and you began to stroke him slowly, earning soft sounds of enjoyment from him.

You smirked as you took in his expression, pleasure evident on his face. You lowered yourself, taking him into your mouth with a soft moan of your own. His hand was instantly in your hair, grip tightening as you started moving.

You swirled your tongue around his head before sucking tightly. You relaxed your throat and continued to take more of him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Anything your mouth couldn't take, your hand pleasured.

His moans spurred you on and guided your motions. You picked up on the subtle things that seemed to provide him more pleasure and you focused on those. Your own enjoyment was evident in the moans you made around his cock and the way you occasionally rubbed your pussy against his thigh, desperately seeking some relief.

Tyler could feel his orgasm fast approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum yet. With a strong tug on your hair, he lifted your head off his cock. You whined in annoyance, a small pout on your face when you met his gaze.

"Sorry, baby, but I'd like this to last."

Your expression softened and you shifted your body to straddle his hips. You leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He met your lips hungrily, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue delved into your mouth.

You gently brushed your pussy against his cock, eliciting needy moans from both of you.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Tyler murmured.

"Me neither," you admitted. You sat back up, an odd expression he couldn't name on your face.

"You alright, sugar?"

You bit your lip. "Could I...could I ride you?"

A wide grin spread across Tyler's face. "'Course you can."

You weren't accustomed to being on top, but it was something you really wanted to try with him. You gripped his cock and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you took all of him.

Tyler's grip on your hips tightened, a low groan leaving his throat as he watched his cock disappear inside you. You shook slightly, so he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and whispered, "Just relax, baby. I've got you."

You nodded and took a deep breath, allowing your body time to adjust to his considerable size. You placed your hands against his chest, using them for leverage as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto his cock.

The sensation was incredible...and the control was utterly intoxicating. You started to move faster, spurred on by the way his fingers dug into your flesh and the sounds of pleasure escaping his parted lips.

After several minutes, your thighs began to burn and your motions slowed. Tyler noticed your energy waning, so he pulled you down flush against his chest and kissed you deeply. He thrust up into you a couple times before flipping you onto your back.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

His movements were slow and calculated, leaving you utterly breathless. Your nails scrapped along his shoulders and back, moans slipping past your lips with each thrust. "Tyler..." you whimpered.

He nipped at your collarbone in response to his name, the sound coming from your lips was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

He pulled himself up onto his knees, tugging both of your legs up to rest against his chest. The new position elevated your hips at just the right angle for each thrust to press firmly against your sweet spot.

The chorus of broken moans coming from you mixed with the sounds your mingled bodies made to create the most intoxicating symphony Tyler'd ever heard.

There was not a single thought in your head other than the overwhelming pleasure you were on the receiving end of. You were lost in it--in him. Your nails dug roughly into his biceps as you clung to him with all your strength.

Gasps of his name left you, along with desperate pleas to keep going. Tyler pushed past the pain in his arms as you drew blood, his sole focus on making sure you reached your peak. He watched your face contort in pleasure, chest heaving, eyes closed, moans dripping from your open mouth.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on his blue-green ones. The moment your eyes met, you fell apart with a fractured scream of his name. The muscles of your core clenched tightly around him, forcing him to a slower pace.

Tyler watched you in awe, utterly enraptured by the sheer magnitude of the moment. Your legs shook as he took them in his hands and gently lowered them back to the bed.

Your hands had fallen from his arms, but you now reached for him. "Ty."

He leaned forward, placing both his palms on the bed beside your head, caging you beneath him once again. His thrusts had slowed considerably, but you knew he needed his own release. You could see it in the tension lining his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

You nipped his jaw affectionately, earning a low chuckle from him. "I want you to cum inside me," you murmured.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words. His pace immediately picked back up, now chasing his own release. "You feel incredible, baby."

You sighed sweetly, fingers touching his tanned skin and tangling in his hair. "So do you."

His moans mixed with pants of your name, and he dug one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, clinging to you desperately. "I can't get enough of you. So perfect for me."

You moaned softly at his words, loving the praise coming from him. You could tell he was close as his thrusts became more erratic.

You pressed kisses to his jaw and the column of his throat before whispering, "Cum for me, Tyler. Please, baby, I need it."

Tyler groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He moaned your name against your lips, thrusts slowing to nothing. He kissed your jaw before collapsing on top of you, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

You kissed the top of his head and rubbed your fingers soothingly over his back. You could feel some of the marks you'd left on his skin, a slight embarrassment sinking into you.

"You were incredible," he murmured against your skin. "So much better than I'd imagined...and I've imagined it a lot."

You giggled lightly at his admission. "I might have imagined it once or twice myself."

He lifted his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And? Did I meet your expectations?"

"No," you said honestly, a small smile on your face. You saw his smirk fade slightly as you moved closer. "You exceeded them."

The tension in his face eased to a genuine smile. He pressed his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that still managed to make your toes curl.

Tyler slowly lifted himself off you, softening cock sliding out of you along with your mixed spends. You let out a soft whimper, which earned you a sweet smile and a loving kiss.

"I'm coming right back, princess. Just wanna clean up."

You watched him walk away to the bathroom, leaving you to wonder if you should try and get up too. After all, you needed cleaned up just as badly as he did.

He saved you from having to make that decision when he came back moments later with a warm washcloth. Your expression softened considerably when you realized he'd brought it for you.

"What's that face for?" he asked softly.

"Just appreciating how sweet you are."

He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising.

"I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

Tyler looked surprised as he slowly began to clean you up. "Clearly you've been sleeping with the wrong men."

You chuckled softly, even as you winced from the over-stimulation between your legs. "Looks like I made the right choice this time."

Tyler made sure you were completely clean and dry before responding. "I think we both did."

Your eyes brightened with emotion and you reached for him in a silent plea. He tossed the rag behind him towards the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

He grabbed you firmly, pulling you into his chest. You curled up against him, head resting against the muscle of his pectoral. You felt him brush his fingers down your arm, the movement affectionate and possessive.

You kissed his chest, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled in. You felt the exhaustion coming to claim you and you could tell by Tyler's even breathing that it was coming for him too.

As you closed your eyes, your foolish brain began to overthink every moment of the night. You wondered if he would regret his choices in the light of day, or if he would want to actually have a real relationship with you.

Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess."

You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?"

"I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

You exhaled heavily as if releasing all those negative thoughts. "I love you, Tyler," you whispered so softly he had to strain to hear.

His heart skipped a beat and a slow smile spread across his face. He nuzzled into your hair, his grip on your soft body tightening. "I love you too, princess."

The soft words of affection were the last you shared before falling asleep in each other's arms.

**********

The morning light shining in through the windows woke you, a groan of annoyance leaving you as you tried to block out the light.

Tyler's responding grumble sent shivers through your body, making you curl in closer to him. You felt his lips graze your forehead, as he said in a voice heavy with sleep, "Mornin', darlin'."

"Don't wanna," you groused.

Tyler chuckled lightly. "I know baby, but we gotta."

"Five more minutes."

He kissed your forehead again before untangling himself from you. "I'll give you ten. I'm gonna jump in the shower."

You whimpered as his warmth left you, but you quickly rolled over into the spot he'd just vacated. You sighed softly as you curled up, the residual heat from his body warming you.

He chuckled again and thought to himself that he could get used to this--waking up beside you. You looked even more beautiful in the morning light and he found himself excited to tell everyone he came across that you were his. He kissed you one last time before going to shower.

You heard the shower turn on and you debated the merits of joining him. You didn't want to get out of the warm bed, but you also knew you had to. A nice hot shower with the man of your dreams did sound rather enticing.

You groaned as you pulled yourself out of bed on slightly unstable legs. You slowly made your way to the bathroom, slipping in quietly. You could see Tyler's outline behind the glass, his back to you as he reached for his body wash.

You crossed the short distance, opening the shower door and stepping inside. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyler turned to you with a grin. "I'd love it, actually."

You reached a hand out for the body wash and washcloth he held. "Let me."

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?"

Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are."

You bit your lip, clearly unconvinced.

"Baby." His voice was stern enough you immediately turned your attention to his face. "I'm okay. I promise."

You relaxed, the clear calm in his expression easing your worry. "Okay."

He grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him, a little smile on his face. "Besides, you've got a nice bite mark on that pretty collarbone of yours...and some finger shaped bruises on these sexy hips."

You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me."

Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

You giggled softly, allowing him to press his body more firmly against you, lips seeking yours for a gentle kiss.

When he attempted to deepen the kiss, you gently pushed him back. "We need to actually bathe, remember? The team's expecting us for breakfast soon."

He groaned. "They can wait."

"Tyler!" you yelped when he pulled you back in, pressing a warm kiss to your lips.

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your abdomen, his hands roaming your body like he wanted to memorize it. You sighed softly as he gently messaged your skin, your need for him growing with each passing moment.

"Come on, princess. Let me make you feel good," he begged against your ear, fingers dangerously close to your core.

"Please," you whimpered.

Tyler grinned, nipping at your earlobe, then your pulse point, focusing there as his fingers dipped into your dripping pussy. A soft moan of pleasure left your lips, head tilting back to lean against the cool tiles.

"I'm thinking we might just skip breakfast all together," Tyler murmured.

You laughed breathily, grabbing his face to plant another kiss to his swollen lips. "I think I'm okay with that."

Tyler spent the next 45 minutes making you moan his name as he gave you overwhelming pleasure. He also used up all the hot water in the entire motel, which you discovered when the two of you finally made it out of your room to meet the rest of the team.

"Dude, I had to take a freezing cold shower," Boone was grumbling as you and Tyler walked downstairs.

"Me too!" Dani chimed in. "Someone must have used all the hot water."

A sheepish smile graced your face as you overheard their conversation. Tyler let out a quiet chuckle, hand squeezing yours gently.

Lily made eye contact with you, noting your expression, your's and Tyler's wet hair, and the hold he still had on your hand. A knowing grin spread across her face. "I think I know exactly who used all the hot water."

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader smut #tyler owens x plus size reader #tyler owens x plus size reader smut #plus size!reader #twisters smut #tyler owens smut

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whoops-all-jennas · 2 days ago

Text

Look Who's Inside Again pt. 2

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

"Try making faces, try telling jokes, making little sounds."

Summary: Emma Myers is suddenly hired to play a new role in the project, and she's trying to be your wingman.

a/n: I love writing an awkward and shy reader

Part 1. Part 2.

I wake up to the sound of beeping outside my trailer. I dramatically roll over to check the time, grabbing my phone to read 7 am. I plop onto my back, still having another couple hours. The beeping stopped, followed by someone giving some sort of instructions. My curiosity overtakes my desire to stay under my blanket, forcing myself out of bed.

I find myself looking at myself in a full length mirror. I'm wearing an oversized graphic tee and athletic short shorts. I also have the craziest case of bedhair.

I swing open the door to the trailer, forgetting I just woke up and I still have bed hair. I lean outside the doorway, holding onto the wall to keep myself from falling. I see a truck positioning a new trailer next to mine. I see a new face outside, instantly recognizing her as my friend Emma Myers.

The last movie I was in starred Emma Myers as the main lead, I was the lead's roommate. I didn't have many scenes, but that was definitely my the biggest project I've been in before this. I'll still occasionally find posts online about shipping our two characters.

I was lucky that Emma and I instantly hit it off when we met. I can't explain how it was different to this current movies cast, but there's just something so approachable about her.

My quick steps rock the trailer as I hurry to the bathroom. I manage to do as much of my morning routine as possible before the sound of a knock on the door fills the room.

I glance at my reflection one last time, satisfied for the moment, before going to open the door. On the other side I find Emma with a smile on their face.

Emma practically tackles me to the ground in a hug. "Surprise!"

I wrap my arms around her. "Not much of a surprise." I say with a smile. "Kinda difficult not to hear when they're setting up a new trailer."

Emma loosens her embrace with a smile, taking a step back down off the trailer. There's a chunk sound where's Emma's trailer is, causing both of us to turn our head towards the noise.

"Emma!" A voice comes from that direction. "Your trailer is all set."

Emma sticks her arm towards the voice, sticking a thumb up. She turns back to me. "I'll see you soon I gotta." She points with her thumb towards the trailer. "You should come keep me company after you finish getting ready."

"I definitely will." I say with a smile.

I knock on the door to Emma's trailer, seconds later I'm met with her smile on the other side of the door.

"Y/n! Come on in!" She takes a step back, making space for me to pass through.

My first few steps up the stairs slightly shake the trailer. I take a look around before finding a seat. "So does everyone bring string lights?" I ask with a smile while Emma is in the process of hanging more of them.

"Mostly girls." She states after she finishes the last of her decorations. "Most trailers I've seen guys in are barely decorated."

She takes a seat next to me, her body twisted to face me. "So, you been getting along with the crew? I know how you can be with new people."

"It's been okay, Jenna's nice." I say, looking at the floor to avoid eye contact.

"Oh yeah? Jenna's nice?" She says with a smirk.

I manage to bring my eyes back to hers, my eyebrow raised. "What?" I say with confusion lacing my voice.

"Oh nothing." Her smirk strengthens as she readjusts her seating to sit on her knees facing me. "I just remember us having a conversation before about how I was so lucky to work with Jenna in Wednesday. Something about how she's so pretty and cute and gorgeous." She looks up towards the ceiling when she says the adjectives.

My face instantly flushes with a red heat. "I don't know what you're talking about." I state suspiciously fast.

"Omg you so totally like her!" She says too loudly.

My eyes widen slightly as my blush worsens. "I don't! I... I hardly even know her." I turn to the side to avoid facing Emma directly. "And besides, she said in her book-"

"You read her book? that's so cute!" She's practically beaming, confident about my feelings about her now.

I was about to speak until a knocking on the door interrupts me. Emma looks towards the noise. "The door is open!"

The person opens the door, taking a few steps in to reveal Jenna. My face flushes a deeper red at the thought of what she could've heard.

"It seems you're settling in nicely." She says, admiring the decorations.

"I was until this one distracted me." Emma lightly pushed me.

Jenna looks at me for a moment before looking back to Emma. "I was gonna ask if you wanted to go on a walk or something if you were done decorating. You could come along as well Y/n if you'd like"

A mischievous smile finds its way onto Emma's lips. "Unfortunately, this one is distracting me from settling in."

"I assumed you just finish-" I start to speak before Emma interrupts me.

"You should take her away from me, so I can manage to finish decorating." She stands, pulling me up with her before lightly pushing me towards Jenna.

Jenna looks at me with a smile before addressing Emma. "I'll take her off your hands."

Jenna heads to leave the trailer. I hold back a minute to find Emma giving me a wink, causing me to blush again before following Jenna out.

Jenna leads me to a small trail that circles around a pond. The sun glistens off the water along with the reflection of the trees.

We walk on the concrete path side by side, some of my steps an awkward distance to avoid stepping on the cracks. The silence between us is comfortable as we admire the scenery around us.

"So..." Jenna draws out the o. I move my eyes from the water to glance at Jenna before looking away again. "You've read my book?"

I feel my heart rate increase as my face flushes in embarrassment. "You heard that?"

She chuckles. "The walls of the trailer are thin."

I find myself silent for a moment. "Is that okay? That I read your book I mean."

"I don't mind, I mean it's published for a reason." The path starts to lead to a dock by the water.

The sound of our footsteps on concrete transition to footsteps on wood as we near the railing facing the water. I notice ducks swimming across the reflection of trees and clouds.

"Did you hear anything else?" I ask almost in a whisper before resting my hands on the wooden railings, staring at the wavy reflection in the water.

Jenna is silent for a moment, deciding what she should do or say. She rests her hands on the railing as well, the side of her hand coming into contact with mine.

I instinctively pull my hand away until she gently wraps her pinky finger over mine. "I might've heard more." She says with a smile.

I feel my heart jump out of my chest at her words and actions, my face being the only red thing reflecting off the water.

"Is this okay? The touch I mean." She asks looking at me.

I nod without hesitation, tightening my pinky around hers.

She is silent for a moment, looking at me with a cute smile. "You might've said something about how I'm pretty, and cute, and gorgeous."

I find myself sliding down to my knees, covering my face with my left hand. My right hand still in place on the railing with Jenna's and I's pinky's still interlocked.

I feel Jenna look down at me. "I usually try to know the person more before I make any moves like this." Jenna inches her hand closer, slowly starting to cover my hand with hers. "But you know that. You've read my book."

She starts to gently pry my fingers off the railing. "There's something different about you, something authentic." Her fingers find their way around mine, our hands now in the air resting below the railing.

"You're not afraid to be yourself." She pulls me up by our interlocked fingers, causing me to find my way to my feet.

I turn to see Jenna's dark eyes on mine, seeing the reflection of the water within them. I find a new found infatuation in her eyes. She turns to look at the water.

I find my legs shaking at the thought of making any sort of move, wondering where this came from. I take a step closer, our connected hands resting by our sides. I take another awkward step closer till our shoulders touch.

I feel my heart jump out of my chest yet again, as I slowly and gently lower my head to rest on her shoulder.

We found ourselves mesmerized by the ever-changing reflections on the water. I lose my eyes on the reflection of the sun, the closest color on the water to match the hue of my face.

a/n: this was shorter than I expected and definitely unrealistic, but I still hope you enjoyed :)

taglist

@mirage018

@thekid4466

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x female reader

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soubeomies · 2 days ago

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꒰୨୧◞ ₊˚ 𝓛𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗅

⤷ 𝓟𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ﹕ leehan x fem!reader

⤷ 𝓦𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ﹕ mentions of blood, reader is referred to as a “her”

⤷ 𝓖𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ﹕ angst, fluff

⤷ 𝓦𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝓒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ﹕ 886

⤷ 𝓐𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝓝𝗈𝗍𝖾 ﹕ this is my last post before i take a 2 week ish hiatus for school!!

⤷ 𝓢𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 ﹕ your day has gone horrible and you can’t help but feel upset. while trying to calm yourself, you end up hurting yourself in the process.

dearest darling, my universe.

during your lowest lows, leehan was always there for you. to catch you when you fall, to be the shoulder you cry on, to be the hand that wipes the tears that fall from your eyes.

he would always be there for you, never has he let you down whenever you needed him. he would drop everything just to come home and hold you in his arms to tell you that it’s okay. to him, you were his universe.

today was supposed to be no different, but it felt like a different type of low. work was infuriating, none of your co-workers appreciated what you did for the team. your family still hadn’t contacted you whatsoever for the holidays and you felt so isolated. you felt empty.

you arrive home, the apartment shared with leehan remaining dark as you switch on the lights with a heavy heart. right.. he was coming home late today.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

after a successful attempt of calming yourself down, you go over to your kitchen and open a cupboard to grab a cup, tip toeing. struggling to reach the cupboard, leehan was the one who’d usually grab the cups from the cupboards since they were out of your reach. you manage to grab a cup and gently set it on the counter to grab the ingredients you’d need to make a calming cup of tea.

in the process of making tea to relieve your stress and frustration, you clumsily knocked the cup off of the counter. the glass shattering on the ground, breaking into tiny glittery fragments as the pieces spread across the kitchen floor. fuck fuck fuck, you curse under your breath.

your frustration grew within you as you hear the glass shatter on the ground. could this day get any worse? you thought to yourself. you felt tears pool in your eyes, it was something as small as glass shattering.. yet it felt like your last straw.

you couldn’t help but feel tears spill out of your eyes before you kneel onto the ground and collect the glass shards on the ground. it didn’t even come across your mind that you were picking up sharp shards of glass with your bare hands.

your head was clouded with frustration to the point it had numbed out the feeling of small glass shards piercing into your skin and leaving scratches. you hadn’t even realized the glass was piercing through your skin.

in the midst of your panic, you hear the keys turn as a distinct voice exclaims. “jagiya, i’m home!” the chaos in both the kitchen and your mind had become dull as his voice was present. you just couldn’t hold back tears, your head hung low as you let the tears stain the floor.

with no response evident, leehan makes his way to the kitchen before feeling his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. the sight of his beloved kneeled on the kitchen floor with tears streaming down her face with her bloodstained hands from the shards of glass scarring her delicate skin. his heart aches at the sight before he rushes over to you. “hey hey hey.. what happened here..” he says in a worried tone all while pulling you into his warm embrace.

the feeling of comfort simply made you even more emotional, you can’t even start to believe that someone like leehan cares for you to this extent. to hold you at your lowest, to keep you safe in his arms.

“jagiya, your hands..” he says in a low tone as he hold your hands in his, he looks at you with a frown before grabbing a wet napkin and a first aid kit and starts to wipe off the bloodstains. “can’t have your pretty hands in pain, now can we?” he says, cleaning your hands along with bandaging them up to prevent further scarring. “i’ll clean this up now okay?” he states before grabbing a broom and sweeps up all the glass shards and throwing them in the trash.

he then turns back to you as he helps you up from your kneeling position to walk over to the couch. he gently sets you down as he sits right next to you. “do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his voice gentle and loving.

at this point, you were just a sniffling mess. you were calmer now that he was here. a few moments of silence pass by before you slowly started to speak. “i—i just had a bad day. my co-workers they—“ you didn’t get to finish you sentence before you broke into tears again. just the thought of your frustrating day made you feel a sense of gloominess. you hung your head low, wiping your tears.

leehan sees your head hung low before instinctively pulling you closer, letting your tears stain his sweater as he gently rubs your back. “it’s okay, let it all out.. i’m here for you..” his words reassuring, you feel somewhat better. his hands rubbing your back in a comforting manner, you continue to wonder just what you’ve done to deserve him.

“i love you. it’s okay to cry, but i love you.” he whispers in your ear affectionately, the words making you finally smile.

“there it is, keep smiling baby. it suits you.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ networks : @kstrucknet @k-nets

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jsooly · 11 hours ago

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taken in by the sullys / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, fifteen years fly by and your family just keeps growing as you fight the stigma of being the clan leaders' human child... aka moments between you and your infant/toddler siblings

(1) / (2)

+ takes place just before atwow! this is a much longer chapter T-T

neteyam

moments before he was to connect with eywa, you sat quietly next to him as jake and neytiri bustled around to prepare for the ceremony

you leaned over the side of his cradle, poking his blue skin. he squirmed before focusing his eyes on you. you could tell he was intrigued — you were different than all the faces he'd seen today.

you lowered your voice, whispering to conceal your conversation from jake and neytiri.

"hey." you nodded to him. "i'm y/n. i'm your big sister. well, not real big sister, but still." you shrugged.

you stepped onto the side of the wooden frame, getting some height over where he lay. "you're pretty big for a baby, you know. you're as big as me already. but that doesn't mean you don't have to listen to me, you know." you wagged a finger in his face.

he tilted his head, and you weren't sure if he was getting any of what you were saying. you continued anyway.

"mom says i'm better than the other na'vi kids my age. i can already hunt and fight. she says i have an unnatural gift." you whispered.

"but..." you sighed, stroking his head softly. "i guess i can teach you, too. and it's okay if you suck. i'll be there to protect you."

neytiri and jake exchanged endeared looks, their backs turned to you and the newborn to give you the privacy you thought you had.

if there was one thing you had to let go of quickly, it was your pride

the clan practically worshipped little neteyam — firstborn son of the fierce neytiri and legendary jake sully? they celebrated for weeks

though young, you were still aware you were different, that you didn't exactly belong among the na'vi... but you didn't mind the dirty looks if it meant staying around your family

plus a new baby brother was more than enough joy to offset the feelings of exclusion

you were fluent in na'vi long before neteyam came along, and you took charge teaching him to speak, walk, even string an bow

perhaps you took charge a little too well

"y/n." jake warned. "put him down."

your brother was only a few months old, yet you were manhandling him as if he'd grown enough to withstand the rough grabbing and pulling.

you were surprisingly strong for a human kid your age (you can thank neytiri for that), allowing you to hold neteyam in your arm with ease.

"no." you said simply.

jake gave you a look. of course you had to enter a rebellious phase right when neteyam was very fragile.

"y/n."

you groaned. "what?"

"don't make me get your mother."

"i'm teaching him."

"he doesn't need to be taught right now, sweetheart." jake said gently, approaching you with caution and attempting to take neteyam off your hands.

"he's just lying around all day!" you rebutted, swerving away from him. the flush of speed made neteyam chirp softly in excitement as he gazed up at you. you smiled at pat his head briskly. "might as well fill the time up with something." you mumbled as you stroked his bald head.

"that's a good idea, but how about something less dangerous?" jake grinned widely, trying to sell his point. he held up a ball and some toy blocks. "huh? come on, what d'you say?"

you gave him an unimpressed look, not bothering to answer him as you swiftly turned around and exited the tent. ignoring the sharp noise of protest from jake behind you, you smiled proudly at your brother and nuzzled into his head.

"you're gonna be a great olo'eyktan one day, brother." you assured him. "but first, we gotta get away from dad and teach you how to walk n' stuff."

he babbled in agreement.

in the year when it was just you and neteyam, you bonded inseparably

he was always behind you, like a puppy chasing a little duck around

there was a time when other clan members were a bit concerned that he was spending more time with you than other na'vi children

"neytiri, listen to reason." one omaticaya woman told her.

neytiri was sharpening weapons with some of the other women, all sitting in a circle in a time where they were supposed to be exchanging stories and dreaming about the future. but some chose to gossip and condemn.

"i am listening, though i would not call it reason." neytiri shot back.

"your son is descended from great lineage. consider having him romp around with his own kind instead of an unwanted child."

neytiri hissed, slamming her arrows down. the other women ducked their heads to avoid her anger. "that child is very much wanted. in a million years, i would not believe i would grow so close to a human child, but it has happened. i chose to stop lying to myself long ago."

the woman scoffed, looking around the circle incredulously. "are you hearing what you are saying? we fought hard to eradicate the sky people from our land and you have one growing among us."

neytiri glared. "once, the great mother brought a sky person into our lives, and look at the good that's come of it. eywa watches over this child in the same way. she is special."

despite neytiri's argument, the other women continued to nudge their kids into neteyam's daily routine

for a week, you barely saw him

you stayed in the hut, like usual, watching them play in the grass outside

you rarely emerged from the safety of your home in fear of the judgmental looks you'd receive—it was fine, until you had a brother to miss.

"why don't you go out there?" jake crouched beside you. "m'sure neteyam would appreciate a familiar face."

you gave him a weird look that clearly said no.

he sighed and brought your head into his side, hugging you tightly. in these moments, he didn't know what to say to you. he had no qualifications for being a father, for shaping a young one's whole life, and it was becoming all the more real to him in this instance.

he was about to speak up when you mumbled, "i know they don't want me here."

jake cursed internally. "they... they just misplace their hatred and anger, baby. that kinda stuff is for adults only. they should know better than to denounce a perfect little angel like you." he smiled, pinching your cheek gently.

silence filled the room once more.

you looked up at him, fighting with feelings of unease you couldn't name. "... you want me here, right?"

jake's heart split in two. he cupped your face firmly, holding your gaze. "y/n. 'course i want you here, baby. you're my first little girl, and i would never give you up, not for anyone. i don't care if our life is a little different because you're around. besides, you've more than proven your ability to hold your own."

his declaration warmed your heart until you felt like there was a furnace of love burning inside you.

"i was once human too, you know. you remember, don't you?" he paused as you nodded. "see? for you and us, it's not about being human or na'vi. it's about being our little girl and us being your parents. that's the type of thing where it doesn't matter what you are. you could be... i dunno."

"a worm?"

he chuckled. "yeah. you could be a worm and i'd still love you to death."

a thud caught both of your attention. neteyam grunted as he propped himself up again.

"huh?" you glanced out the window. the other na'vi kids were still out there. you hopped off the windowsill and rushed to his side, helping him stand. "what are you doing back here? your friends are still outside."

he just made a face of distaste, shaking his head.

"looks like he prefers big sis instead." jake grinned, squeezing your shoulders as he passed by. "you two be safe—y/n, no funny business. and don't think about starting a fire."

he left you two playing as he went to have a word with some clan members.

kiri

since both of you were adopted, you related to kiri in a way. you were determined to make sure she didn't feel different, especially in light of her affinity for eywa and natural things

when you and the others would go out to play, kiri would run off

you'd find her lying on the ground, embracing the earth

"kiri!" you gasp, falling to your knees beside her. you carried lo'ak on your back as neteyam toddled beside you. "you can't just run off like that on your own!"

she sat up in a daze, blinking slowly. the grass around her fell back into a lifeless state but the seeds of eywa still hung around. you gently pushed one from ticking your face.

she looked a bit sheepish, averting her eyes as she stood up to follow you. you frowned and sighed, helping lo'ak off your back. you took her hand and flopped back onto the ground.

"you know what... a couple more minutes couldn't hurt." you groaned as you stretched. you tucked your arms under your head, getting comfortable. kiri smiled and reclined beside you.

in that moment, it was as if all the energy in space aligned and you were plucked from your physical form and woven into the stream and cycle of all the energy and consciousness of pandora.

early on, you knew kiri wasn't a fighter

as in, not a let's ride into battle on the back of an ikran guns blazing type of fighter

you started teaching her about the different herbs, plants, and fruits around pandora

she sucked in everything you taught her like a sponge and soon enough it got to a point where you two were learning together

you entered the tent with a thick book clutched tightly against your chest. "kiri!" you whispered urgently.

she perked up, dashing across the room.

you let the book drop onto the ground with an oof, flipping it open. "look, kiri, it's your ma's journal!" you grinned, showing her dr. augustine's signature. you figured you'd leave out the part how you swiped it from norm and max's lab.

her face brightened at the familiar name, staring at the journal in wonder. she flipped through it, but couldn't recognize any of the text. it was all written in english, with bits of na'vi scattered here and there.

"read to me?" she asked, nudging the journal to you. she snuggled into your side as you read her birth mother's findings and conclusions to her.

jake and neytiri found you two sleeping soundly against each other.

lo'ak

lo'ak was an instigator from day one

literally came out the womb quarrelling with everyone

mo'at let a lengthy exhale escape her lungs. neytiri had just given life to her second son, lo'ak, and the boy just would not stop crying. despite all her years as a mother and tsahik, nothing she did soothed her youngest grandson.

"is he hungry?" jake offered, earning dark glares from both his wife and mother in law.

"jake."

"don't you think we tried that?"

he shrunk away, holding neteyam in his arms. he leaned against the wall beside you, giving you a shrug that said hey, i tried.

you pursed your lips, a paradoxical mix of concern and annoyance bubbling up inside of you at lo'ak's wailing. you stood, ducking under mo'at's arm and climbed onto the side of neytiri's bed. she was still talking to mo'at while rocking lo'ak in her arms.

you studied him as he cried, your patience declining by the second. with a sharp but gentle tug to his neural braid, you directed his attention to you. "what are you so upset about, lo'ak? you literally just got here." you whispered urgently.

almost surprised, his cries died down to hiccups and whimpers. you sat back as the adults in the room peered over the newborn.

"ahhh, there he is. poor baby, it's alright." mo'at smiled, stroking lo'ak's head gently. neytiri cooed softly, kissing his bald head repeatedly.

lo'ak found you very cute, though, and was extra gentle when playing with you

you were 11, and neteyam just turned 7, and both kiri and lo'ak were 6 (kiri just a couple months older than lo'ak)

so you had a whole litter of hyperactive kids

you were an overworked big sister lol

and lo'ak was a middle child through and through — with neteyam being the eldest and kiri being a special case, lo'ak didn't get a lot of chances to stand out

thus starting a rebellious streak

but he always got a loooot of love and attention from you

"these are the ones you want, lo'ak?" you hummed. you swirled the bowl around, watching the beads roll at the bottom. "i like the blue."

he fell into your lap with a grumble, his back to you. you just snickered. "what'd you get grounded for this time?"

he scoffed and crossed his arms. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay." you pat his shoulder before taking out his old braids.

a beat passed.

"all i did was follow neteyam outside. so what if i tried to use his bow?" he complained.

you smiled as he ranted—it was like clockwork.

"it's not like he tried to stop me, either. i didn't even come that close to hurting anything. my aim was off." he complained. "besides, weren't you doing stuff like that when you were younger than i am?"

"yeah," you answered, massaging his scalp. "but i actually sat through all my lessons."

he scoffed, stewing in silence.

you softened. "sorry. don't want a lecture, huh?" you continued to do his hair, and slipping in the beads he wanted.

"next time, you and i should go together." he muttered. "i'm done hanging around little mr. perfect."

"bold words from the kid who looks up to little mr. perfect." you gave him a knowing look and he huffed, avoiding your gaze.

you pat his head and made little jazz hands. "tadaaa. all done!"

he didn't move from your lap.

"lo'ak, i'm done—"

"i know." he muttered softly. you understood what he needed. you laughed and hugged him tightly. he wasn't so little anymore—none of them were. your laughter was infectious and he started to smile, too.

"house arrest isn't that bad. you can hang out with me while the others gotta train with mom and dad." you said, self-satisfied.

he smiled, rolling his eyes. "i guess."

you stood, rifling through your trunk of stuff. "maybe bow and arrows aren't your thing. wanna try a gun instead?" you held one up.

lo'ak's ears stood up, his eyes wide. "y/n!" he exclaimed, looking around as he lowered his voice. "how do you even have that?!"

"dad taught me." you grinned, swiftly removing the bullets. can't be too safe. "just don't tell anyone, okay?"

he matched your grin, nodding fervently. he ran to your side and eagerly watched your demonstrations.

tuk

for 7 years, it was just you, neteyam, kiri, and lo'ak. then all of a sudden, neytiri and jake announced they had another on the way

everyone was excited of course, and the debate on whether it was going to be a boy or girl was lively

you, personally, hoped for a baby sister

you had two baby brothers already! and they were handfuls.

when tuk finally came, lo'ak and kiri were 7, neteyam was 8, and you were 12

she learned to walk and speak faster to keep up with everyone

this set the precedent for how she hangs out with each other too

"tuk." lo'ak groaned, stopping to wait for the youngest sully. "you were the one who said you could keep up."

"i can!" she whined, clumsily hopping across the small gap between branches.

lo'ak rolled his eyes, walking off to join neteyam in the front. kiri was off... somewhere, connecting with the energy of everything probably.

you shook your head at your brother's behavior. you offered your hand to tuk, pulling her up onto the branch.

"they're so mean to me," she fussed. "they never wait for me."

"i know, tuk. give yourself a year or two and you'll be as fast as them in no time."

she grumbled, strolling alongside you. "you're smaller than i am. how do you keep up with them?"

you blew a raspberry. "lots of practice."

she started skipping, the branch teetering under her steps. "i just wanna hang out with them."

"they don't do anything cool anyway," you whisper to her conspiratorially. "it's all about shooting arrows and training these days. come on," you held out your hand. "i got something better for us."

she beamed and slotted her hand in yours. you both ran off together, all giggles and whoops of excitement.

you got to the end of the path, leaping off the branch and into the waterhole below.

she screamed, coming to a halt at the edge of the branch. "it's too high!"

you surfaced, wading onto shore. "don't worry, tuk, it's deep enough to break your fall!"

"i'll miss the water!"

"trust me!" you yell up to her. she made a brief sound of protest before stepping back. screwing her eyes shut, she ran with all her might and jumped off. she screamed all the way down.

you laughed at her, blocking your face from the splash. she surfaced with a gasp, laughing brightly.

"i did it!"

the early years were the easiest. but once the sky people returned, everything was different.

!! from now on, i'm gonna make alternating parts—one storyline following the events of atwow and the other just a compilation of fluff/comfort scenarios. for example, the next part is gonna be plot based and then the following part is just gonna be silly goofy moments. and it'd keep alternating til the atwow plot is done !!

thanks for reading!!

taglist : @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce (for some reason you couldn't be tagged, i'm sorry!!)

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horny-mushroom · 3 days ago

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After a long week, I didn’t expect you to be in the mood for anything. Stripping down to your usual pyjamas and booting up a fighting game to play. The tease that I am, I dared you to have the winner get something after 5 rounds. You took that offer and asked me to write this for you, and I asked you to submit to me. Knowing you, you probably let me win this one. But not after you made me promise to also write you something. We both got what we wanted. It was hard to say no when you squished my face between your thighs and girlcock. Your smell was so hot, you have no idea. There were moments where I didn’t give a single flying fuck about what you just said. Just feeling your soft thighs and your teasing smirk…

When you stripped down for me again, leaving only your stockings on. Like a hungry dog I sat on my knees. Begging you and pushing my face against your squishy butt. You allowed me to tear your stockings, fuck I love ruining your clothes so much. I instantly tore the back of it, putting your hard girldick through the hole and in front of my face. Touching myself and squeezing your hips when you pushed yourself on my face.

After I reached a point, I brought you back to the couch and took off my clothes for you. Ordering you to get on top of me, to see my goddess in her glory. Your dirty blond hair always falls so beautifully in these positions. Despite your teasing smirk, I know there was an eager little girl that wanted to obey and submit to me. Of course, before that, you were going to be an absolute brat. Making my job so much harder than it needs to be. But you shut up so quickly when you get to frot your cute and sensitive tip on my tdick. Your eyes close, you blush and your lips become crimson… Soft moans and quiet moments accompany you when you’re losing yourself on subtle pleasures. You kept asking me to cum like this. To make your big girlcock twitch in happiness and desire. I couldn’t hold myself back and I knew I wanted to feel you up.

I ordered you to go upstairs and as you went, I couldn’t help but playfully hit your ass on the stairs. When we finally hit the bed, you immediately went into position. Ass up, face buried in the pillows and jiggling at me. Luckily for you, I was dripping wet. I slid a few fingers in me and used my own pre-cum to lube you up. Making it easier to enter. I fucking love to tease your cute little button inside of you. You immediately shake, moan louder and you roll your eyes to the back of your head in ecstasy. I know you like me being rough too, because you immediately drop your bratty demeanour. You fucking slut 🖤 As I finger you, I can’t help but hump myself on you. Matching the tempo of the two actions together to pretend like I’m fucking you. And every time if you need to be lubed up, I push those fingers back into me, ready to pleasure you again.

I’m still not the dom you want me to be, not fully or all the time. How could I? It’s a difficult task, knowing I have such a beauty and a divine being who wants me. To not melt for you, is frankly unthinkable. And as usual I lose my edge, I moan with you and turn into a needy dom. Who wants to taste and feel good for you. I ask you to fuck me, to stretch my boy cunt with your girlcock, so we can be one again. Fuck was I lucky that time. Not only did I want it, but so did you. To feel me stretch for you and share my warmth with you. It’s a rare treat, so I’ll cherish it like I always do.

It took a lot out of me, to keep my demeanour and not switch during it all. You make me want to submit to you wholly and absolutely. But I was going to make you cum. And I did. When my juices were running dry to help you, all you had to do was to fuck my hole. And we were back at it again. At last, after edging and pleasuring each other, I grab the lube to take you over the edge. Inserting my lubed up fingers in you, finger fucking you silly, you stutter and shake. Cumming onto my fingers and the bed. Creating a mess of it all. You have no idea how hot you are. How satisfying it is to see you in a state of bliss and happiness. Helping you with the clean up, cuddling up to you and warming you up under the blankets. While you shake, fighting off the cold and the fast approaching sleep, you utter your final words of the night: “Thank you, and I love you.”

🖤🖤🖤

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mssishipi · 20 hours ago

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CHAPTER 3: mr. panties stealer - enhypen! heesung

PAIRING: broke! rookie panty stealer! heesung x reader, senior panty stealer! jake x reader

SYNOPSIS: When Heesung discovers his roommate Beomgyu's bizarre side hustle-stealing panties for cash in a campus-wide competition-he's appalled. But after hearing about the insane prize money, his moral compass wavers.

Overwhelmed by deadlines and broke from juggling classes and a café job, Heesung finally snaps. Armed with Beomgyu's tips and a growing desperation, Heesung sets out to grab the bag-and maybe a shred of dignity along the way.

chapter includes: long ass chapter, profanities, girls fight but they made up, angst, toxic fwb breakup, jake being an asshole (again), slut shaming, heesung is the biggest softie, making out in public, reader being horny.

chapter 2 - chapter 4

It's a war. You're determined to catch those motherfuckers once and for all.

You march into the lobby with purpose, the dorm committee trailing behind you. The moment you step inside, all eyes turn to you. The girls are gathered in a loose circle, some sitting on the couches, others standing at the back. Their chatter quiets as you drop a stack of papers and a pen onto the center table.

"So? Is this that serious? You brought the dorm committee with you?" Yuna asks, her voice tinged with skepticism. She points toward the group standing behind you.

You don't flinch, your eyes sweeping across the room. "These papers have seven tables," you explain, your voice steady but firm. "Each of you will write down the names of the guys you've let into your dorm. Boyfriends, guy friends, anyone. Write their names next to yours and include how many panties you've had stolen. Be honest."

The room shifts uneasily. Some girls straighten in their seats, others glance at each other with wide eyes.

"You're saying you think they're the ones stealing our panties?" Wonyoung shrieks, biting her nails.

A wave of complaints erupts from the group, everyone talking over each other.

"Even the dorm committee will write down names," you say firmly, cutting through the noise.

"Our boyfriends wouldn't do something so disgusting!" one girl snaps, crossing her arms defensively.

"Right! What are you trying to imply?" another chimes in, glaring at you.

You let them vent, massaging your temples as they spiral into protests. When their voices finally die down, you speak sharply, your tone slicing through the tension.

"Just write and let yourself analyze the situation. If you trust your man that much, then fine—leave."

Silence falls over the room, the weight of your words sinking in. Wonyoung is the first to move, sighing as she grabs a paper and starts writing.

"I'm Wonyoung," she begins, her voice quieter now.

"My panties started disappearing five months ago. The only guy I've let in is Sunghoon, from the ice skating team. I've known him for two years—we met at an acquaintance party. He's a good guy, but... I'll help with whatever plan you've got." She passes the paper on.

"I'm Mia," the next girl says, taking the paper.

"I don't have a boyfriend, but I do have a guy friend. My panties started disappearing four months ago—right after I started letting him into my dorm about five months ago. I've had a gut feeling, but now..." She trails off, scribbling on the paper. "This is making things a lot clearer."

Gasps ripple through the group as Mia finishes and passes the paper. Chaewon takes it next, her hands trembling.

"I'm Chaewon," she says, her voice breaking.

"My panties have been missing for six months. I don't let boys in, but my roommate does. I saw three men lurking outside our door at 3 AM once." Tears spill down her cheeks as she hurriedly passes the paper to her roommate.

Her roommate writes quickly. "My panties have been missing for six months too," she begins, then hesitates before adding, "The only guy I let in is Sim Jaehyun, the Australian guy."

The air shifts instantly.

"Jake?" someone exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief.

The girl glances up sharply. "Yeah, Jake. What about it?"

"Miyoung?! You're hooking up with Jake?!" another girl shouts, rising from her seat.

The girl—Miyoung—crosses her arms defensively. "Of course! We've been dating for almost a year!"

Your heart sinks as the room erupts into chaos.

"Dating?!" another girl yells. "You knew I liked him, you fucking slut! We've been hooking up for three months!"

"What the fuck?" Karina whispers beside you, her eyes wide.

Two girls stand, shouting over each other as Ryujin and Yuna rush to separate them.

"You told me it was first come, first serve!" one girl screams. "And now you're acting like you're his girlfriend? Bitch, you're the side chick!"

Miyoung snaps back, her face red with fury. "I'm the side chick? You're the one who said you were just messing around while I've been dating him for a year! You're nothing but a lying, jealous bitch!"

The slaps come fast, loud, and vicious. The room descends into chaos as the two girls push and claw at each other.

You stand frozen, the noise fading into a dull hum as your thoughts race. The accusations fly around the room, but all you can hear is Jake's sweet words echoing in your head, his laughter, his kisses.

You and Jake weren't exclusive. Sure, you were just hooking up, hanging out, waiting for him to make the next move. But the trust you gave him? The way he made you feel like you were the only one? It feels like a knife in the back.

Karina touches your arm gently. "Y/N," she says, her voice quiet.

You shake your head, watching the chaos. "Fucking Jake," you mutter, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Ryujin and Yuna struggle to hold them apart, their voices drowned out by the yelling.

"Are you seriously going to fight over a man?!" Yunjin's voice cuts through the noise. Her tone is sharp, commanding, as she forcibly steps between the two. She shoves them apart with surprising strength, glaring at each of them.

"God, do you even hear yourselves? Jake's two-timing you both, and here you are, tearing each other apart like it's your fault!"

The room falls silent, the tension thick enough to choke on.

You take a deep breath, your nails digging into your palm. The weight of the moment presses on your chest, and before you can stop yourself, the words slip out.

"I'm also hooking up with Jake," you say quietly.

All eyes turn to you, the shock on their faces palpable. You sigh, forcing yourself to meet their gazes.

"It's been almost four years," you admit, your voice shaking. "We're not dating or anything. Just... hooking up."

A murmur ripples through the room, the tension shifting into something heavier, more uncomfortable.

You exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. "You know what's funny?" you say, your tone bitter. "We all live in the same dorm. We see each other almost every day. Yet none of us had any idea we've been fucking the same guy."

The silence is deafening now, the weight of your words settling over everyone.

"I'm sorry," Miyoung whispers, her voice barely audible. She looks down at the floor, her hands trembling.

Another girl, the one who had been fighting with Miyoung moments ago, sniffles quietly, wiping at her cheek. "Me too," she says softly. "I didn't know."

You clench your fists, your jaw tightening. "It's not your fault. It's not any of our faults. The blame doesn't fall on us. It's on him."

Karina steps closer, her expression a mix of sympathy and anger. "Y/N's right," she says, her voice firm. "Jake's the one playing all of us. And if he's been lying about this, who knows what else he's hiding?"

The girls murmur in agreement, their earlier anger now directed toward a single target.

Yunjin folds her arms, glaring at the group. "Instead of fighting each other, we should focus on the bigger picture. Whoever else is part of this disgusting panty-stealing game."

You nod, "Exactly. This isn't just about him. It's about catching all of them."

The girls exchange glances, their previous hostility replaced by a shared resolve. Slowly, one by one, they nod.

Karina looks at you, her expression sincere. "What do we do now?"

You take a deep breath, "we plan. And we make sure they never see us coming."

Heesung had been on edge for days. Beomgyu's constant chirping about the "game" wasn't helping.

"Relax, man," Beomgyu had said earlier that week, clapping him on the back. "You're just tense because you're new to this. Trust me, after the 28th, you'll feel like a pro."

But "pro" wasn't exactly how Heesung felt. One week before the dreaded date, he was a mess. Between overtime shifts at the café, juggling classes, and trying to process what he'd gotten himself into, he hadn't slept properly in days. Beomgyu's constant bickering and questionable pep talks only made it worse.

The final straw came when Beomgyu handed him a new "target": Kazuha, a freshman ballet dancer.

"She's perfect," Beomgyu said, tossing a folder onto the table with a grin. "Lives in that apartment complex near campus. CCTV coverage? Minimal. Plus, she's got a thing for leaving her laundry out too long. Easy pickings."

Heesung had reluctantly opened the folder, feeling his stomach churn as he skimmed through her "database." Photos of her smiling, her class schedule, even details about her laundry routine.

This felt wrong. It was wrong.

Now here he was, back at the café for his evening shift, the dark circles under his eyes practically casting shadows of their own. He wiped the counter furiously, trying to distract himself, but the noise around him wasn't helping.

Students were everywhere—typing loudly on their laptops, chatting in groups.

"God, the 28th is coming again," a girl groaned at a nearby table. Heesung's ears perked up, and his hand froze mid-swipe.

"I'm so sick of locking up all my stuff, and it still doesn't work!" another girl chimed in.

Heesung swallowed hard, his hand gripping the rag tighter.

"You know," the first girl said, leaning closer to her friend, "I'm not wearing panties today because those fuckers took all of mine."

Heesung choked on air, standing bolt upright. He quickly started swiping the counter again, his movements erratic.

The second girl snorted. "Honestly? I hope they all die."

That was the last thing he heard before speed-walking away, his face flushed and sweat trickling down his neck. His heart was pounding as he ducked behind the counter, leaning against the wall for support.

"What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling.

"Heesung, what the hell are you doing? There's a customer in line!" his manager barked, snapping him back to reality.

He groaned softly, scratching the back of his head before straightening up and dragging himself to the counter. Plastering on the most forced smile he could manage, he tried to sound upbeat. "Hi, I'm Heesung. What's your order?"

He didn't even bother looking up, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. His fingers hovered over the keys, ready to punch in another order for yet another overly complicated drink.

"So, we've been like in hell this week, huh?"

The unexpected comment made him pause. He finally lifted his head, ready to fake some polite small talk—but the words caught in his throat.

It was you.

His eyes widened slightly as he took you in. You looked as exhausted as he felt. The bags under your eyes were prominent, and the slight redness told him you'd been crying recently. Your hair was tied back in a ponytail, though a few strands had fallen loose, framing your face in a way that made you look effortlessly beautiful.

Heesung swallowed hard, his mind scrambling for something to say.

"Ice vanilla latte, please," you said, offering a small smile that didn't quite reach your tired eyes.

"Uh—yeah, of course," Heesung stammered, fumbling with the computer. His fingers hit the wrong button twice before he managed to get it right, the screen finally cooperating. "Ice vanilla latte. Coming right up."

He stole a glance at you while typing in the order, his chest tightening.

You leaned slightly against the counter, exhaling softly. "Long week?"

Heesung let out a dry laugh, nodding. "You have no idea."

"Oh, I think I do," you said, your tone light but weary.

Heesung hesitated, his curiosity getting the better of him. "You okay?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, you seemed to debate whether to brush it off or answer honestly. Finally, you sighed. "I guess. Just... stuff. Dorm drama, classes, you know how it is."

"Yeah," Heesung said, his voice softer. "I get it."

There was a beat of silence between you as he handed you the receipt. "It'll be ready in a minute."

"Thanks," you said, stepping to the side, giving Heesung one last faint smile before heading to the corner of the café and sitting by the window.

You glance outside, waiting for Jake to show up, though the thought of seeing him again makes your head throb. Midterms hell week, the 28th looming, and your overthinking brain are tag-teaming to ruin your sanity.

Why did Jake think it was a good idea to hook up with three girls living in the same dorm? Was he an idiot? What went so wrong in his life that he thought this was smart? And if he is part of the panty-stealing competition... is this his strategy to win?

You sigh loudly, rubbing your face with your palms as your mind spirals. Your gaze flickers to Heesung, who's busy making drinks. You watch as he massages the back of his neck, wincing slightly, probably from standing for hours. Poor guy, you think absentmindedly, then shake it off.

Back at the dorm, you'd assigned tasks to the girls. Karina and Winter had taken on the mission of researching the guys listed on the paper you'd passed around, digging into their backgrounds.

"Lee Heeseung," you remember Karina reading aloud dramatically, like she was narrating a crime documentary. "Student, majoring in Business Management, 21 years old. Used to play basketball in high school. Works at Didi Café."

Then came the kicker: "No girlfriend since birth. Inexperienced in sex."

You'd rolled your eyes so hard you practically saw the back of your skull. "Seriously? That's the information?" you'd snapped, flipping through the papers they'd handed you.

Winter had looked at you, unbothered, while she casually filed her nails. "What? It's important!" she said, like you were the crazy one.

"Important?!" you'd shouted, holding up the paper. "I need to know if they're struggling financially, if they know karate or taekwondo, or if they've taken I.T. classes! Not how many girlfriends they have had!"

Winter shrugged, looking completely unfazed. "What if you need to know how he is in bed?"

Your jaw had nearly hit the floor. "What?!"

Karina had burst out laughing, nudging Winter. "Yeah, for her to know if he's good in bed!"

"For me?!" you'd shouted, completely horrified.

"Yeah," Karina said, grinning mischievously. "He's totally your type. Tall, soft-spoken, a little clueless. Come on."

Your hands had flown up in protest. "I am not interested in him that way!"

Winter had smirked at you, her gaze sharp. "Sure, keep telling yourself that."

You came back from your senses as your gaze drifts to the door just as it swings open, revealing Jake. He steps inside, his eyes scanning the café likely searching for you.

The moment his eyes find yours, he smiles—a soft, disarming grin that once would've made your heart melt. For a split second, you feel yourself faltering, almost forgetting what he did. Almost.

You force your back to straighten, your resolve hardening as you motion for him to come over. He walks toward you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hey, baby," Jake says, he leans down to kiss your cheeks, but you dodged. He hide it with a cough, sliding into the seat across from you. His voice is warm, dripping with affection. "Sorry I'm late. What's wrong? You okay?"

You sighed deeply, "What am I to you, Jake?" you asked, you saw how Jake eyes widen.

"What do you mean?" He was caught off guard. He blinks a few times.

"Don't play dumb. Am I your girlfriend? A hookup? Someone you keep around because you're bored?"

Jake leans back, raising his hands like he's surrendering to the police. "Whoa, where's this coming from? You know you're special to me—"

"Special," you repeat with a bitter laugh, cutting him off.

"Special enough to be one of three girls you've been screwing in the same dorm?"

Jake's face drops, his cocky demeanor replaced by panic. His eyes dart around like he's looking for an escape. "Wait, hold on, what are you talking about?"

"Miyoung. Aya. Do those names ring a bell?" you ask sharply, folding your arms as you glare at him.

He freezes like a deer caught in headlights, his jaw working soundlessly for a moment. "I... I don't—It's not like that!"

"Oh?" You tilt your head, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "So you weren't dating Miyoung for a year while hooking up with Aya for three months? Please, enlighten me, Jake. What is it like, then?"

Jake groans, rubbing his face like he's trying to erase the entire situation. "Okay, fine! I admit it! But it's not what you think!"

Your arms tighten across your chest. "Oh, really? Can't wait to hear this one."

Jake huffs, clearly scrambling. "Miyoung and I weren't dating! For fuck's sake, we were in a—a situationship. She's the one who decided to call it dating!"

You raise an eyebrow. "And Aya?"

He hesitates but eventually throws his hands in the air. "Fine! Yes, Aya and I hooked up a few times. But it wasn't anything serious! It didn't mean anything!"

Your laugh is humorless, sharp enough to make him flinch. "Oh, I feel so much better now, Jake. Thank you for clearing that up."

His frustration boils over, and he leans forward, pointing at you. "You're my best friend! We've been close for almost four years! I've been hooking up with other girls this whole time, and you never cared before! Why are you suddenly making such a big deal out of it now?!"

You scoff, your voice rising as anger overtakes you. "Because now I know! I trusted you, Jake! I thought you were better than this. I thought—" You pause, shaking your head. "I thought I was different to you."

Jake stares at you, his mouth opening and closing like he's searching for the right words, but nothing comes out. The frustration on his face is evident, his jaw tightening with every second of silence.

"If this is about the competition—" you start, your voice sharp, but Jake's fist slams down on the table, making you flinch.

"I am not in the fucking competition!" he shouts, his voice loud enough to draw stares from the other café patrons.

You freeze, watching as Jake closes his eyes and sighs deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to calm himself.

Jake's thoughts spiral in a whirlwind. He hasn't had a problem keeping things under wraps these past few months. You never cared before when your panties went missing, and he's been getting better at the game—too good, honestly. There's no way he can let this unravel now.

How the hell did you figure it out in just a week?

He clenches his fists, trying to keep his face neutral. He was careful. Miyoung, Aya, and you weren't supposed to cross paths. He made sure of it. You were never supposed to talk to each other, let alone connect the dots about his involvement in the competition.

But now, here you are, piecing everything together. He just needs a solid alibi. That's right.

"Is that how low you think of me?" Jake says finally, his voice quieter but edged with bitterness. He lets out a hollow laugh, his gaze locked on you. "You really think I'd join some panty-stealing competition? We don't even know if it's real!"

You don't say anything, but the tears welling in your eyes and the single tear sliding down your cheek tell him everything. His chest tightens, guilt mixing with anger and panic.

Jake's laugh turns sharp, almost mocking. "I hook up with the three of you—so what? You're acting like it's the end of the world."

Your face hardens at his words, but he presses on, desperate to shift the blame.

"You've hooked up with Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin like some groupie club, but did you hear me complain? Did you see me crying about it?"

He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. The change in your expression—a mix of betrayal, hurt, and disgust—sends a stab of pain through his chest.

Jake swallows hard, his mouth opening as if to say something, but the words die on his tongue.

"Ice Vanilla Latte for Y/N?" Heesung's voice interrupts, trembling slightly as he approaches the table. His face is pale, his legs feel like jelly, and he looks like he's on the verge of tears himself after overhearing your argument.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop. Really, he didn't. But standing behind the counter, he couldn't ignore the way Jake's voice rose or the tears streaming down your cheeks. Watching you cry while Jake sat there, made something in Heesung's chest twist.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to throw a punch.

"I'm sorry," Heesung stammers, trying to keep his voice steady. "I, uh—I kept calling your name, but you didn't hear me, so I thought I'd just bring it over." He shifts awkwardly, holding the drink out to you like it's a peace offering.

You sniff, wiping your tears quickly as you glare at Jake. "Groupie club, huh?" you say with a bitter laugh, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jake flinches, "Y/N—"

But you cut him off, your next words sharp enough to slice through the tension like a knife.

"I also fucked your best friend Jay. And you know what? It was the best sex I've ever had."

The air leaves the room. Heesung freezes, his eyes going wide, the drink still extended in his hand.

Jake's face turns red—whether from shock, anger, or humiliation, it's hard to tell. He stares at you, speechless for once, as if your words have rendered him completely incapable of forming a coherent thought.

Without even glancing at Heesung, you grab the drink from his hand, drop a tip on the table, and stand.

"Thanks for the drink," you mutter, your tone flat as you walk out of the café without a backward glance.

Heesung stands there for a moment, still holding the tray, his gaze flicking between Jake and the door you just walked through.

Finally, Jake snaps out of it, his jaw tightening as he glares at Heesung. "What are you looking at?" he snaps.

Heesung blinks, his jaw clenching as he clutch the tray on his chest. For a split second, he considers saying something—anything. But instead, he shakes his head and walks away.

"Idiot," Heesung mutters under his breath as he heads back to the counter, already thinking of ways to cheer you up the next time he sees you.

You're a complete mess, your face streaked with tears as you sit cross-legged on the floor. Crumpled tissues are scattered everywhere like the aftermath of an emotional battlefield. Between sobs, you take a sip of the now slightly watered-down Ice Vanilla Latte, the sweetness doing little to soothe your broken heart.

A soft knock at your door pulls your attention, and you look up to see Karina leaning casually against the doorframe, her expression carefully neutral. Behind her, Wonyoung, Giselle, and Chaewon peek over her shoulder, their faces a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"I guess it didn't go well," Karina says, raising an eyebrow.

That's all it takes for the dam to break again. You burst into louder sobs, your cries echoing through the room.

Wonyoung's pout deepens as she steps into the room, wrapping her arms around you. "Oh, Y/N," she coos, holding you tightly as you cry into her shoulder. "What happened? Tell us everything."

"I fucking hate him!" you wail, your voice muffled by Wonyoung's sweater. "I confronted him about three-timing us, and instead of apologizing, he switched the topic on me!"

"What?!" Giselle exclaims, stepping into the room with wide eyes.

You sniff loudly, grabbing another tissue from the pile and blowing your nose aggressively. "He acted like it wasn't a big deal, like I'm the one making it worse. He even brought up me hooking up with the SKZ dance line, saying I was like some groupie club."

The room goes silent for a moment as your words sink in. Then, all at once, Karina's face flushes with anger, and Giselle lets out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

"He called you a groupie club?!" Giselle shouts, her fists clenching at her sides. "I swear to God, I'm gonna fucking cut his dick off!"

Chaewon, ever the calm one, looks more horrified than angry. "He actually said that to your face?!"

You nod, hiccupping through your tears. "And—and then I asked him if it had anything to do with the competition because I have a gut feeling, you know? But he gaslit me, saying I'm thinking too low of him and how we don't even know if the game is real!"

Karina throws her hands in the air, pacing back and forth like she's ready to storm out and find Jake herself. "The audacity! The sheer nerve of that asshole!"

"I am 90% sure he's in the competition!" you cry out, your voice breaking as you try to stabilize your breathing, tears streaming down your cheeks. "A-and, honestly... if he just told me the truth, I think... I think I'd forgive him."

Your words make the room fall quiet, your friends exchanging uneasy glances.

"Jake may be an asshole," you continue, your voice wobbling, "and yeah, he's probably fucked half the campus, but he's still my best friend!" Your last words come out in a loud, pitiful whine as you bury your face in your hands.

Wonyoung hugs you tighter, stroking your back gently. "Oh, Y/N..."

Karina sighs, kneeling beside you, her hand resting on your knee. "You're too good for him, you know that, right?"

You sniff loudly, your shoulders shaking as more memories flood your mind—Jake buying you your favorite snacks during exams, Jake making dumb jokes just to cheer you up, Jake letting you nap on his shoulder during long study sessions.

"But... but he was always there for me!" you wail, your voice muffled by your hands. "When I was crying over Minho ghosting me, who bought me ice cream at 2 AM? Jake! When I couldn't figure out my Psych finals, who stayed up all night helping me study? Jake!"

Chaewon crouches beside you, her voice soft. "Y/N, no one's saying he hasn't been a good friend to you... sometimes. But that doesn't erase what he's done. You deserve better."

You lift your head, your tear-streaked face meeting their concerned gazes. "I just don't understand why he couldn't tell me," you whisper. "If he'd just been honest, I would've helped him. I would've..." You trail off, your voice breaking again.

Karina leans closer, squeezing your knee. "You're not wrong to feel hurt, Y/N. He betrayed your trust, and that's on him. But we're here for you now, okay? You don't have to figure this out alone."

You nod quietly, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip of the now lukewarm latte. Your tired eyes catch something unusual as you tilt the cup—a faint smudge of black marker.

Frowning slightly, you turn the cup, squinting to read the handwriting scrawled across it:

Ik it's a bad week, but don't forget to smile, pretty :) – H

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. Heesung, the biggest softie in the world. Is he in this competition? The thought feels impossible. If he really is part of it, you're pretty sure you'll never trust men again.

Heesung, meanwhile, is shaking like a leaf. Standing in a dimly lit room with 30 other guys, he feels his legs trembling so hard he might as well sit before he collapses. His grip on the armchair is so tight his knuckles are white, sweat beading on his forehead. It's already three days before the competition begins.

What am I doing here?

Across the room, Beomgyu sits casually, leaning back, chatting with Yang Jeongin from Math. Nearby, Han Jisung from Chemistry cracks jokes with Huening Kai from Psychology. Huang Renjun from Nursing looks unbothered as he flips through the terms and conditions paper that was just handed out.

Heesung's stomach churns. This is real. This is actually happening.

"Good morning, boys!" Lee Jeno's voice booms through the mic at the front of the room, his grin wide and confident. "Are you all excited for the 7th Annual Panty Stealing Competition?"

Heesung gulps hard as the room erupts into cheers and laughter. His eyes dart nervously around the room. Why are they so hyped about this?

Jeno gestures toward the large projector screen behind him as a presentation flickers to life. "Alright, let's go over the terms and conditions. Grab the paper in front of you and follow along."

Heesung's hands tremble as he looks down at the paper. The bold title reads:

Terms and Conditions: 7th Annual Panty Stealing Competition

"No. 1," Jeno begins, pacing across the stage. "You don't get to keep the panties you steal."

Heesung blinks. That's... oddly specific.

Jeno continues, his voice sharp and authoritative. "This isn't some free-for-all, boys. The goal is to collect as many panties as possible and return them for points. Everything you collect must be placed in the plastic bags we'll provide. No exceptions."

Heesung's grip on the paper tightens as Jeno's next words make his blood run cold.

"No. 2. The competition area is limited to the campus dorms, nearby apartments, and the XO Street perimeter. That's it. Don't even think about venturing outside this zone. If you do, you're out. Simple."

Jeno's eyes scan the room as he pauses for effect. "No. 3. The competition starts strictly at 2 AM and ends at 4 AM. Two hours. That's all you get. You'll return to this room to hand over your bags. Each bag will be inspected, so don't try to cheat by hiding or keeping anything for yourself."

Heesung's heart races as Jeno raises an eyebrow, his tone growing sharper. "And just so you know, we'll be monitoring you with drones. That's right—every move you make, we'll see it. If we catch you hiding panties or breaking any rules? You'll be fined $5,000. Got it?"

The room murmurs in agreement. Heesung gulps, his palms sweaty.

"No. 4. You cannot tell anyone of the opposite gender about this competition," Jeno continues, his voice dropping to emphasize the point. "You tell a girl, you're disqualified—and fined."

Heesung glances up, his eyes darting toward Jake, who looks annoyingly miserable as he twirls a pen in his fingers.

"No. 5," Jeno announces, "every participant will be given earpods with trackers. Keep them on you at all times during the game. And no funny business, or we'll know."

Heesung's breathing quickens as he stares at the absurd list of rules, his mind screaming at him to leave. But then Jeno says something that makes his stomach turn.

"No. 6. Used panties are worth 10 points. Clean ones? Only 5. You want to win, you go for the higher-value targets."

The room erupts in laughter and murmurs, but Heesung feels like he's about to vomit.

"Last rule," Jeno says, his grin turning sharp. "This isn't just about the panties. It's about strategy, finesse, and guts. If you're too soft for this game, there's the door. Walk out now, no shame."

Heesung's eyes flick to the door, the only escape route. His legs twitch, ready to bolt. But then he sees Beomgyu smirk at him from across the room, mouthing, "Don't chicken out."

Heesung's fists clench. What the hell did I get myself into?

The ramen shop is quiet, the faint hum of the vending machine the only sound in the open-air space. You lean against the counter, watching the water flow into the bowl from the machine as your instant noodles cook.

"Hey, can I smoke here?" you ask the shop owner, who's wiping down a table nearby.

She looks up and shrugs. "Fine. You're the only one here, anyway."

Grinning, you pull out a cigarette, place it between your lips, and light it with a flick of your lighter. The first inhale is smooth, calming your nerves as you exhale the smoke into the night air. Your fingers flick the ash to the side as you glance at the bubbling noodles in front of you.

The soft hiss of the water boiling is oddly soothing. You take another drag, the smoke curling in front of your face, blending with the faint steam from your food.

The shop owner passes by you on her way to the door, leaning closer to whisper as she goes. "Stop smoking right now, girl," she mutters under her breath,

Before you can respond, she beams, opening her arms. "Oh, it's been a while, Heesung!"

You glance up, cigarette still in hand, as the shop owner gives a warm hug to a familiar figure.

Heesung.

He stands there awkwardly, returning the hug with a sheepish smile. "Hi, ma'am. It's been a while," he says softly.

The shop owner releases him and turns to the counter. "Your usual? I'll get it ready for you."

"Thank you," Heesung replies, bowing slightly. As his gaze shifts, his eyes land on you, sitting there casually with a cigarette between your fingers.

You raise an eyebrow at Heesung, taking another drag from your cigarette before blowing the smoke to the side. "Heesung," you greet, your tone neutral, trying to gauge his mood.

His face flushes slightly, and he quickly looks away, as if caught off guard. "Uh... Y/N. Hi," he stammers.

That's when you notice it—the way he subtly shifts, tucking an envelope behind his back. Your eyes narrow for a second, but you don't press.

"Half expected I'd run into you here," you chuckle, your voice light.

He scratches the back of his neck, his gaze darting to the shop owner, who's busy in the kitchen. "Yeah, I come here sometimes," he mutters, clearly nervous.

"Here, Heesung! Shin Ramen with eggs! Want pork enoki rolls, too?" the shop owner calls out, placing the a tray with ingredients bowl on the counter.

Heesung quickly waves her off. "No, no, this is good. Thanks!" He grabs the bowl and moves to stand beside you, setting it down near the machine.

You watch as he pours the broth into the bowl and places it under the dispenser, letting the hot water fill it. "How you holding up so far?" you ask, exhaling smoke. "Getting any sleep?"

He glances at you, your question catching him off guard. Your eyes are a little swollen, but nowhere near as bad as before. You're standing there in a simple sweater and pants, your hair falling loose around your shoulders. To him, you still look effortlessly beautiful.

"U-uh, yeah," he stammers, focusing back on his ramen. "Exams are done, so... less stress. But, you know, still stress."

You chuckle, the sound light and genuine. "Mood."

He hesitates, his hands fidgeting with the chopsticks. "Y-you? The t-thing between you and Jake... if you don't mind me asking?"

His voice is soft, almost unsure. You glance at him, holding your cigarette between two fingers, studying his face.

"Nah," you say finally, your tone dismissive. "I'm hurt, but it's fine. It already happened." You shrug, clearly avoiding digging into it.

Heesung swallows, hesitating again. "Uh... do you like him?"

A smirk tugs at your lips. "Not romantically," you reply, your tone teasing. "Though I did consider dating him. I treat him like my super-duper best friend. Your answer."

He blinks, his expression slightly confused. "My... answer?"

"You asked the question. Do you think I should have liked him?" you ask playfully, tapping the edge of your cigarette on the ashtray.

Before he can respond, the timer on the machine beeps.

"Oh, it's done," you say, smiling as you gesture toward his ramen. You grab your own chopsticks, stirring your noodles with casual ease.

Heesung's gaze lingers on you, his soft eyes tracing the way your hair moves as you lean forward slightly, your focus on the bowl.

"I'll wait for you," you say suddenly, your grin mischievous as you gesture toward the door. "Let me finish this off outside."

You hold up the cigarette briefly before heading toward the open seating area, leaving him standing there, still holding his bowl of ramen.

Heesung watched as you flicked your cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with a deliberate twist of your foot before sitting down. You tilted your head slightly to blow on your ramen, the steam curling around your face as you took a sip.

Heesung followed you, carefully setting his bowl on the table before sitting beside you. With a quick, almost suspicious motion, he slid the envelope onto his chair and promptly sat on it, clearly trying to keep it hidden.

The silence that followed was deafening. The only sound was the occasional slurp of soup and noodles as the two of you ate, neither saying a word.

Finally, you broke the tension. "So, Heesung, what's your interest?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, resting your chin on your hand as you stared at him.

Heesung's eyes darted everywhere but at you, and you almost burst out laughing at how badly he avoided eye contact. "Uh... collecting keyboards?"

"Like, instruments?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"No," he said, shaking his head quickly. "Like... computer keyboards."

You couldn't hold it in anymore. You burst into laughter, clapping your hands like it was the funniest thing you'd heard all week.

"That's so cute!" you exclaimed, leaning into his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. Heesung froze like a statue, his entire body tensing at the unexpected contact.

You grinned, wiping a tear from your eye. "So, do you play games because of the collection?"

He nodded shyly, stirring his ramen to keep his hands busy. "Yeah. Helps me unwind, you know?"

You twirled your noodles around your chopsticks, your tone teasing. "A-huh. I thought eating ramen was the solution."

"That too," he replied, his lips quirking into a small smile, making you chuckle.

You leaned back slightly, pointing your chopsticks at him. "Woah, if it were any other guy, they'd probably say they fuck when they're stressed." You looked at him, your eyes playful. "You don't do that?"

Heesung choked on his noodles, coughing into his hand as his ears turned a deep shade of red. "Uh—uh, no! Not my thing," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze again.

Heesung's face turned a shade of red so deep it could rival a tomato. His doe eyes widened, his brain clearly short-circuiting. "W-why? Girls do it too when they're stressed?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his innocence shining through.

You couldn't help but stare at him longer, your grin widening. His wide, nervous eyes glinted under the warm shop lights, making your chest flutter just slightly. "I do it sometimes," you admitted with a playful smirk, leaning forward just enough to close the space between you.

"When I'm stressed with developmental psychology, I masturbate," you said, watching with satisfaction as his jaw dropped slightly, his cheeks burning even brighter.

"It's the scientific study," you added casually, as if you hadn't just dropped the boldest statement of the night, "of how and why humans grow, change, and adapt across their lives."

Heesung's lips parted, but no sound came out. He just nodded dumbly, as if you'd asked him to solve a complex equation on the spot.

"Kinda stressed me out, so I'm glad it's done," you continued, leaning even closer, your voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting back up to meet your gaze.

"And when exams are done..." You paused, letting your words hang in the air, watching as Heesung practically stopped breathing. "I fuck. Because finally, it's done."

Your voice was barely above a whisper now, your eyes locked on his lips. Heesung swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously as you leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his face.

"My exams are done, Heesung," you murmured, your breath brushing against his skin. "But I have no one to call. Are you interested?"

He stared at you, his lips parting slightly as if to respond, but instead of answering, he closed the remaining distance. His lips crashed against yours, hesitant at first, but the desperation in the kiss was undeniable.

Your fingers slid into his hair, gripping gently, pulling him closer as your lips met again. The kiss started slow, but it quickly deepened, the heat between you building with every passing second. His lips were soft but eager, moving against yours like he couldn't get enough.

His hands hesitated for a moment before finding your waist, his grip tightening. The way he pulled you closer, his fingers pressing into your sides, sent a rush of heat through you, and your heart pounded in your chest.

You tilted your head, parting your lips slightly, and he took the opportunity. His tongue brushed against yours, hesitant at first, but when you met him halfway, the kiss turned hungrier. The wet slide of his tongue against yours made your breath hitch, and a soft moan escaped you before you could stop it.

You reached down, guiding one of his hands up to your chest. His fingers stiffened for a second before he squeezed, his touch clumsy but firm, pulling a louder moan from you. The sound seemed to spur him on, his lips moving with more confidence, his tongue exploring deeper, his breaths growing heavier.

You pressed your chest against him, feeling the way his body tensed beneath your touch. He was inexperienced, but he wasn't holding back now. You smirked against his lips, the thought making your heart race. Inexperience my ass.

When you shifted, grinding slightly against him, his grip on your waist tightened even more. His hand stayed on your chest, squeezing and kneading as the kiss became messier, more desperate.

You don't care if you are in an open area, your focus narrowing to the way his lips moved against yours, the soft groans that escaped him, and the way his hand trembled slightly as he tried to match your intensity.

When Heesung finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he stared at you like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

Your smirk returned as you leaned in close, brushing your forehead against his. "Your place?" you whispered, your voice soft but teasing.

For a second, he didn't respond, his gaze flicking to your lips again as though tempted to keep going. But then, like a switch flipping, he pulled back, his hand slipping out of your chest.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I didn't mean to—"

You blinked, confusion flickering across your face. "Why? Because I'm a groupie club?"

"No! That's not it at all!" Heesung blurted out, his voice sharp with protest. "I don't think of you like that—it's just..." He trailed off, his hand running through his hair as though searching for the right words. "I don't do this."

Your brow furrowed, hurt and confusion mixing in your chest. "Do what?"

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "This. Hooking up, acting like it's nothing. Having sex and pretending it doesn't mean anything after." He looked at you then, his gaze conflicted, torn. "I'm just... not that guy. I'm sorry, but I'm probably not what you're looking for."

Before you could respond, he turned away, leaving you.

"Heesung, wait!" you called after him, but he didn't glance back.

Heesung wasn't like other guys—he'd made that clear, not just with his words but in the way he carried himself. He wasn't the type to jump headfirst into something without thinking it through. He was careful, deliberate, and in his own way, sweet. He was a date before sex kind of guy, and here you were, dragging him into something more intimate without even considering how he felt about it.

Your shoulders sagged as the realization hit you. He wasn't running because he didn't want you. He was running because he didn't know how to handle the whirlwind you'd pulled him into.

"Can't handle it, huh?" you muttered under your breath, the words dripping with frustration as you stabbed at the bowl of ramen in front of you. "Guess I scared him off."

"God, I'm such an idiot," you muttered, shaking your head. You weren't just frustrated with him—you were frustrated with yourself. Frustrated for not seeing it sooner, for misreading the signals and pushing too far too fast.

Your gaze shifted to Heesung's empty seat, then to the envelope resting on the chair he'd just vacated. Curiosity flickered, though guilt tugged at the edges of your mind.

You hesitated, your chopsticks pausing midair. Opening the envelope felt wrong, an invasion of privacy—but curiosity burned too brightly to ignore. Slowly, you reached for it, your fingers brushing over the worn edges as you slid out a sheet of paper.

The thought nagged at you, but your fingers had already reached for the envelope, as you opened it and pulled out the paper inside, the words at the top made your blood run cold.

Terms and Conditions: 7th Annual Panty Stealing Competition.

Your eyes scanned the page, disbelief turning to simmering anger as the details unfolded before you. The absurdity of it all—the rules, the prize money.

The paper crumpled slightly in your tightening grip, your knuckles white with fury.

"Motherfucker," you hissed.

Sitting back, your mind began to race. If they wanted to play games, fine. But they had no idea who they were messing with.

Plans formed, solidifying like steel as your anger fed your resolve.

They'd regret ever joining this competition.

- end of the chapter -

a/n: are you ready for the competition👀

#enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #heesung x reader #heesung #jake #heesung smut #jake smut #sunoo #jay #beomgyu #jake x reader #enhypen

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 2 days ago

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"PUT THAT DOWN, TOUGH GIRL" (2)

Sooo due to the success of this fic I wrote with Kraven I had to post the second part so here it is!

I hope you like it!

Sergei finished by removing her shirt completely, revealing a black lace bra which he quickly got rid of.

Nora gasped as she felt the cold air on her bare chest. The hunter took a deep breath, watching the expression on her face.

The sweet scent of her arousal filled the air, flooding Sergei's senses, making his animal side emerge to the surface. His hands covered her breasts from behind.

A gasp came from between her lips as she felt the hunter's rough, long fingers touching her like that.

Her head fell back against his shoulder again, making Sergei smile. The way she gave herself to him excited him in a way he couldn't define.

The hunter abandoned her breasts, beginning to slowly lower his hands to the waistband of his pants.

"Sergei…" she moaned with accelerated breathing, "please…"

"Please what?" -He repeated, torturing her, hooking his fingers in the belt loops of her pants, while leaving a soft kiss on the side of her neck- Say it- he ordered, making circles with his thumbs on the skin of her hip-

-Fuck me- she gasped, leaning back, trying to find some friction- or I'll do it- she threatened, he smiled against her skin-

-Another time, prekrasnyy (gorgeous)- he whispered, quickly lowering her pants and underwear- today it's my turn-

Sergei turned her around roughly, a product of the excitement he was feeling. His eyes turned their usual amber color, reflecting his animal blood, as did hers, whose irises turned an intense green color.

They looked at each other for a moment, and threw themselves into each other's arms. Their mouths joined with need as did their tongues, which intertwined, causing both to gasp on each other's lips. Nora tangled her fingers in his long brown hair and pulled him closer.

Without letting go of her, Sergei put an arm around her waist and sat her on the table where he placed the weapons to be repaired. His show of strength in lifting her with the help of just one hand made her wetter than she already was.

And of course, Sergei heard it.

He heard how his essence slipped down the walls of her pussy, getting wet by it.

"Baby, you're going to drive me crazy," he growled against her lips, at the same time that she reached for the shirt she was wearing.

The hunter's toned chest came into view, she rested her hands on his abs for a moment, the touch of her small fingers against him, made his animal instinct awaken completely.

He felt the need to take care of her, but also the need to possess her until she was nothing more than a trembling mess in his arms.

As if she had been thinking the same thing, Nora lowered her hands to the button of his pants and got rid of them along with his underwear.

At this point the need between them was too great to speak, so they did what both their body and mind were asking them to do at that moment.

A gasp left both of their lips as Sergei entered her with ease, her slippery walls welcoming him just as she knew they would.

"Sergei, it feels so good…" she moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "You're so big…"

"And yet you're taking me so well, dorogoy," (love) he whispered, pushing against her, brushing against her clit.

Nora screamed, the pleasure she felt was indescribable. The hunter's amber eyes focused on her face, on her half-open mouth. She was drowning in the cloud of her own lividity.

The hunter felt her pussy tighten around his cock, indicating that she was about to cum.

“Look at me,” he ordered, holding her chin between his fingers. “I want to see you cum,” he said, twisting his hips, drawing a sigh from her. “Can you do it for me?”

“Y-y-yes,” she gasped, moving her hips to meet him. A gasp came from the hunter’s lips.

“Good girl,” he growled, grabbing her hair with his fist and pulling it lightly, exposing her neck.

He moved closer to place several wet kisses where her pulse was beating, then pressed his lips against her skin and sucked hard. Nora knew exactly what he was doing: he was marking her, as if she were an animal on the way to the slaughterhouse.

He didn’t care.

He concentrated on the sensations surrounding him and how his lower abdomen tightened painfully.

-Sergei… I'm going to… - she moaned, closing her eyes. He held her chin, making her open them again.

-Ah, ah, ah – she shook her head – I told you that you were going to look me in the eyes while you cum – he growled – and that's exactly what you're going to do, dorogoy

At that moment, Nora unloaded herself hard against him, as did the hunter, who did so seconds later. Sergei held her by the hips, preventing her from falling forward. Her small body was left without strength, so he picked her up in his arms and left her on the sofa.

He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warm skin against his.

The fire crackled in the fireplace in front of them and when they looked outside they realized that it had started to snow. He got up for a moment to go to the bathroom and when he came back he found her leaning on one elbow naked as the day she came into the world, watching the snow fall in a dreamy attitude.

He watched her for a few moments in silence. Nora realized that he was looking at her and slowly turned her head towards him. Their eyes connected and a smile appeared on the girl's lips.

-What's wrong? - he whispered - What are you looking at?

-You - he answered imitating her smile - you are so beautiful that my eyes hurt just looking at you

-Don't say things like that - she blushed shyly -

That was another of the things that drove him crazy about her.

The way she went from shy to bold in a matter of seconds excited him more than he was willing to admit because who would imagine that this girl who blushed at one of his compliments was the same one who just seconds ago was scratching his back while he fucked her?

-But it's the truth - he murmured, sitting back down on the couch behind her-

His hand slipped under the blanket, and he found that it was wet again. He smiled and slipped two fingers inside her easily up to the knuckle. Nora arched her back against him and a purr similar to that of a cat came from his lips.

-Sergei, I can't - she moaned - it's too much…

-If you can't then why are you moving against my hand, like you're a fucking cat in heat? - he whispered in her ear, she moaned - come on prekrasnyy, give me another one, I know you can

And that's what he did. She came hard against his fingers and he licked them clean. She had never seen anything so erotic in her entire life.

She then rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.

His tough girl

HIS girl

#my story #sergei kravinoff #kraven the hunter #putthatdowntoughgirl

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helicrazy · 2 days ago

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The bond stings.

The Combaticons haven't felt this much pain since the war and they forgot how much it can hurt when one of them is in distress. They know that Vortex is still alive, faint as his side of the bond is, but are also prepared for the worst.

When Blaze steps out of the spaceship, his face says it all.

Whatever happened was too much for their chaotic helicopters to handle and that detail concerns them all.

Onslaught quickly brushes past Blaze to head inside and search for his comrade while Blast Off approaches him more carefully to bring him down the ramp. The shuttle wants to ask what he meant by not knowing what happened, but he can tell the mech is in no condition to talk, too traumatized so he holds back for now.

Sweet Primus what happened to you.

Those words are heard through their connection; though the others can't see what Onslaught is, they can feel the uneasiness.

It doesn't take long for Onslaught to return outside, the IV bag resting on his shoulder as he holds Vortex in his arms with the gauze covering his shattered face. "Blast Off, Swindle, I'll need your help in the repair bay. Brawl..." He stops to look at Blaze. A part of him is grateful that he brought Vortex back, a thank you at the edge of his vocalizer, yet seeing him completely unscathed made him unsure whether he should be. "Watch him."

With that, the Combaticon leader carries on into the mansion. The others follow as Brawl scoops Blaze up and holds him, knowing he desperately needs it and avoids letting him walk as he looks like he isn't all there.

While everyone heads to the repair bay, Brawl aims for the lounge area and sits on the comfy sofa with Blaze on his lap. "Primus you scared the slag out of us with that message." The tank claims before moving Blaze onto a pile of pillows and letting him sink into them. He isn't sure if the mech wants anything in his current condition, but he does grab one of Blaze's favorite high-grade bottles and set it down on the counter section of the sofa.

"I can grab some cubes from the storage in the next room. You must be low." Brawl suggests as he watches the helicopter. Knowing he might not get an answer, he points behind himself with a thumb. "I won't be far; you can still see me from there. I got you, Blaze." The tank reassures before stepping into the other room, still visible to the other with his back turned.

Having no clue what was about to happen next.

Blaze almost can't bear to look at Vortex.

He pushes on, knowing time's racing against him. It's a narrow tie and Blaze is struggling to keep up even just slightly ahead the inevitable. The blood stains gauzes, it stains his berth and it starts dripping down on the floor.

There's so much.

Applying the slightest pressure overwhelms Blaze as those cracked faceplates feel like shattered glass, bending and flaking off in ways he'd never thought was possible. In the end, all that somewhat works, is layering gauzes upon gauzes and hoping Vortex's frame is trying to stop the worst of the bleeding.

"Vortex?"

No response.

He shakes him. Gives him a squeeze at the base of the neck and shoulder.

No response.

"Vortex."

He shakes him again.

Panic.

It's seeping, seeping, seeping, seeping—

It's creeping, creeping, creeping, creeping—

He frantically searches for an IV bag that he keeps around for the worst times. He jabs the needle in Vortex, counting on the energon inside the bag that it buys them just a little more time.

Voyager is set to full speed, already using up a few of its quantum jumps. Blaze, as always, is grateful for having such a deeply rooted connection with the spaceship.

He doesn't need to leave Vortex for even a split second to send a message to the Combaticons. Remote controlling his spaceship is one of Blaze's best past decisions.

:: HIGH EMERGENCY. VORTEX UNWELL. IMMEDIATE MEDICAL. ::

He couldn't— Just couldn't fill them in on details of the emergency. This might be their last moments together and Blaze refuses to abandon his side.

He kneels next to him and holds his servo, his own venting shaky and uncontrolled. He couldn't be bothered staying composed.

"I will find them. Whoever did this to you. I will make them pay."

His forehead bumps against Vortex's servo.

All he can do is wait and drown in anxiety.

Until...

Until Voyager finally lands, safe and sound at the Combaticon base, its engines smoking from the speed created. The Combaticons wait with bated breath near the landing dock, already at unease as their gestalt bond tells them everything what they need to know.

The Blaze that emergres from the spaceship is not a sight none of the crew is used to.

With a thousand yard stare, Blaze utters.

"I don't know what happened."

#[Plot] Chaos In Paradise #photobombingcryptid

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erigold13261 · 1 year ago

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Hate how my family thinks a "debate" is just talking for 30 minutes about a topic and going to the next with each other and not letting me say my piece on the matter. They create a damn echo chamber and I never let me say my piece.

Like my sister recognizes she does this and has been trying to let me speak more, but now that my brother is here with us they just do the whole fucking echo chamber thing. I get to say like half of my opinion/point and they but in not even letting me finish the whole fucking sentence.

#rambling #eritalks #noart #it's just fucking annoying #and then boring #like i can't even explain my shit before they butt in #they grab onto one point i say and take their turn #but i can't grab onto one of their points because they just keep going #need a fucking talking stick or something #(which they would probably ignore 5 minutes in)#my nana does the same thing #cutting me off before i finish my damn sentence #so i just got into the habit of talking louder #and forcibly finishing my sentence #but can't do that with 2 people talking at once #stupid fucking bullshit #and they wonder why i don't fucking talk much to them

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readwritealldayallnight · 3 months ago

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“I also grabbed that oatmeal you liked.”

“Mhmm.”

“You know, the one we tried a few weeks ago, and you were certain you wouldn’t like.”

“Mhmm.”

“Luckily by the time I made it out of the gym they wer-”

“Mhmm.”

You finally glance up from where you’ve been unloading the groceries onto the kitchen counter, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look to your boyfriend.

Sure enough, Simon’s not listening to a word you’re saying. Eyes locked on the steady jiggle of your tits in your tight new sports bra, as you continuously bend down and bounce back up with item after item.

He doesn’t mean to ogle you so obviously. Well maybe that’s not so true. Really he doesn’t mean to be ignoring you as he ogles you so obviously. But today it appears his lower half is in control of his attention span.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you wonder how long it’ll take him to snap out of his trance.

“So yeah, thought we might start having oatmeal more often now.”

“Mhmm.”

“Maybe three meals a day.”

“Whatever you say, love.” He answers, eyes still fixated on your chest, clueless as to the smirk beginning to spread across your face.

“Might even change my license plate to ‘oat-mobile’, watcha think ‘bout that?”

“Sure thing.”

You’re shaking your head to yourself in disbelief, a smile still splayed on your lips. At this point you’re turning around to put things into their rightful cupboards. But you think there isn’t anything behind you he won’t stare at either? While you’re wearing those workout shorts??

“Looks like they updated the class schedules at the gym too.” You continue, glancing back over your shoulder and seeing that, sure enough, Simon’s gaze has shifted to your ass.

“Mhmm.”

“Think they’ve got some new trainers or somethin’.”

“Mhmm.”

“Heard one of em’s quite hot. The men’s personal trainer. Maybe I’ll ask if he stretches the women out too.”

“Okay lov- wait what?!”

Got him.

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pearlywritings · 9 months ago

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Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the sheets. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction.

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them.

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible?

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you.

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip.

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight.

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.

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ebodebo · 6 months ago

Text

Tough As Nails—Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… MDNI | part one |

next ->

He had become a nuisance. A pest, a headache. Every single adjective you can think of to describe a pain in the ass he was.

Your father's ranch hand, whom he hired all of six months ago, had become something of a bother, an inconvenience to you. He was annoying and stubborn. Narrowed his eyes at you too often for your liking. Scoffed when you would correct him. And scolded you when you would have people on the property when your parents would leave town—even going so far as to kick your guests off the property altogether.

But tonight would be different; it was the Fourth of July. You would happily throw your party in the barn your family owns, on the property they own. You weren't going to let him order you around tonight.

"What the hell is all of this?" Simon seethed, taking in the concrete floor covered in empty beer bottles and spilled grain. His booming voice caused some partygoers to straighten up, though no one dared to speak.

He clenched his jaw at the lack of cooperation. "Huh?" He paused, his fists clenching so hard they began to turn white.

"So, no one can speak?" He walked over to a guy sitting on a bale of hay, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and yanked him off the hay tossing him aside.

"Get the fuck off my hay." He gritted to the guy.

"Where is she?" All he could think about was the little pain in his ass who was responsible for this. The guy he pulled off the hay immediately pointed towards an old wooden outhouse away from the barn.

Simon rolled his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. "If I come back and any of you are still here." He looked over everyone.

"I will not hesitate to shoot you for trespassing."

Safe to say, everyone in the barn scrambled out of the barn at that very second. Simon turned on his heels and stalked over to the outhouse, where he saw you leaning up against the outside with a guy's hands roaming your body, making out.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" You jumped at the sound of his voice, pushing the guy on you off your body.

"Sim—"

"Don't." He moved closer, standing directly in front of you, pointing his finger at you. "Don't Simon me."

"It's the Fourth of July, Simon. Lighten up."

"Do you realize your idiot friends spilled hundreds of dollars worth of grain and fucked with your dad's equipment?" All he had to do was glance at the guy just kissing you for him to go scurrying off.

"Shit, I shouldn't have left them alone. I wasn't thinking." You curse, looking up at him to meet his eyes.

"Ya, you're right." He stepped closer.

“You don't think." He gritted out before continuing.

"You're impulsive. Reckless."

Your eyes widen at his words. Who does this guy think he is? "Don't forget you work for me."

He lets out a deep, dry chuckle. "Actually, I work for your dad."

"Whatever." You scoff as you take a step to walk past him.

"We are not done talking." He reaches out to grab your wrist; you swiftly turn your head to look up at him.

"I'm done listening to you." You grit out, eyes full of anger.

"Oh, is that it?" He scoffs out as you take a step away, only to trip over a wide hole in the ground, making both of you topple over, him falling on top of you. He's quick to plant a hand on the ground before, so his entire body weight isn't on you.

After you recognize the pain from the fall, you look up at Simon, who's on top of you, eyes boring into yours. Your pulse increases at the proximity, and your breath becomes more shallow.

His eyes blazed with fury, yours full of irritation. You can't help but glance at his lips, hovering not too far away from your own. This little action made him lose it. His self-control was already hanging on by a single thread, and the look you gave was what finally cut through. His lips crashed onto yours with such force that it took your air away.

It wasn't gentle or tender. It was desperation, months of built-up vexation. It was downright sinful.

You gasp once his lips meet yours but quickly return the sentiment. Your hands move to glide through his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, making him groan.

He yanks his cowboy hat off as he grips your waist to flip you so you are now on top of him, straddling his waist as he sits up.

"I thought you didn't like me." You smugly remark as he connects his lips to the side of your neck, and his hands start undoing buttons on your top.

"Like has nothing to do with this." He murmurs into your neck, lightly nipping at your sensitive skin, making you sigh.

"Keep telling yourself that, Cowboy." You jest, grabbing the back of his neck bringing him back up to your lips, already greedy for another taste of him.

He continues working on undoing your top buttons as his tongue collides with yours, and your teeth graze his own.

He cups your breast over the fabric of your bra as soon as he gets the buttons undone, making you whimper. His hand slips down to grip the fat of your ass as he leans in so his lips are lightly grazing your ear.

"You do it on purpose, don't you?" You could feel the roughness of his voice so close to your ear. You leaned into his lips grazing your ear.

"Do what?" You breathe out as his hand roams from your ass to the front of your belt, gently unclasping your belt buckle.

"You playin' dumb now?" He questioned, gently nipping at your ear lobe. The sensation made you let out a low moan before roughly grabbing his face and connecting your lips back to his.

He matched your hungry kiss, reciprocating an even hungrier one of his own as he tossed your belt off to the side and slid off your pitiful excuse for jean shorts down past your thighs.

He quickly undid his belt buckle and threw it off to the side, sliding his jeans down.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." You breathe out, reaching between the two of you to release him from the confines of his boxers.

His mouth went dry at your touch. "Do what exactly?" He choked out as you carefully pumped him up and down.

"Ride you." You casually said as you slipped your already-soaked thong to the side to accommodate him. He could have come at your words. He almost did, but a quick relay of the steps to clean an AR-15 suppressed the urge.

You grip him and slip him inside your dripping cunt, hissing at the contact. He grips your hips and gently sinks you lower, groaning as you grind into him.

He brought his face closer to plant deep, wet kisses on your lips before groaning into your mouth as you continued your movements. "Fuck. Just like that."

Your entire body erupted with goosebumps, and your nipples hardened at the sentiment. You grip his shoulders tightly, but before you pick up your pace, you hear a familiar truck pulling up to the gate of your family's ranch.

"Is that—" You begin before he thrusts into you, making you moan and throw your head back.

"So fuckin' sensitive." He leaned into your exposed neck and licked a strip up to your lips that were slightly parted.

"Better come quick, sweetheart." He pants, gently bouncing you up and down on his cock, fingers digging into the tender flesh on your hips.

"Wouldn't want your parents to see you riding me. Would you now?" You let out a pathetic whimper, bringing your hand down to swirl circles on your aching clit, while he wraps a strong arm around your waist to hold you in place as he drills himself into you.

Each thurst, each swirl of your finger, made you feel a sense of nirvana you didn't even know was possible to get to. It was pure bliss. That and his dirty tongue were spewing such filthy words that were making you wetter than you ever knew was possible.

"Tell me you're about to come because—” His pleading voice sends a final wave of heat through you.

"Fuck. Yes, I'm coming." You yelp, slipping your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light roots again. He silently curses as he comes, gripping you tighter and pressing your chest against his own.

By the time both of your orgasms subside, he silently and gently eases you up to assist you in pulling your thong and jean shorts back on. Then, he casually fixes his jeans and grabs his belt to put back on.

You glance at him, picking up his cowboy hat from the ground and carefully wiping off some dirt that had gotten on it. Though he doesn't slip it back on his head, as a shock to you, he places the hat on your head. It was a little big on you, so it fell a bit more in the front, slightly covering your eyes.

"Keep it.” He says, bending down to pick up your belt and buckle, gently slipping it around your waist and clasping it. He gently pats the buckle clasped in the front, then looks down at you before speaking.

"You earned it."

a/n: who the fuck even wrote this

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

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risuola · 1 year ago

Text

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

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