#trying to get back into drawing hands more often
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
đ°đđ đđđđđđđ
Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader
Words: 1400+
Warnings: none
Summary: You take Alexia ice skating, thinking sheâd be great at it like she is at everything else. You couldnât have been more wrong.
The day had started out with the best intentions. Alexia had been looking forward to the little break you had both managed to carve out of your hectic schedules, and you wanted to make it special. You'd decided to surprise her with an ice-skating date, thinking it would be fun to try something new together. Alexia was great at pretty much everythingâfootball, her role as captain, even the random card games she managed to win without fail. You figured ice skating would be no exception.
Turns out, you couldn't have been more wrong.
As you laced up your skates and glanced at Alexia, a mischievous smile spread across your face. She was giving the ice rink a wary look, the skates on her feet looking very out of place as she wobbled slightly, her expression skeptical.
"Ready, captain?" you teased, reaching for her hand as you both stepped toward the ice.
She took a deep breath, squeezing your hand, her gaze shifting between the smooth, glistening surface and your confident smile. "I... I don't know," she muttered, her Spanish accent even thicker than usual. "Is... slippery, no?"
"SĂ, it's a little slippery," you replied, trying not to laugh as she looked at you with a mix of terror and determination. "But that's part of the fun."
She gave you a doubtful look, but before she could back out, you gently tugged her onto the ice. Her eyes went wide, and within seconds, she was gripping your hand with both of hers, her feet sliding out from under her as she scrambled to stay upright.
"ÂĄAy! Don't let me fall!" she exclaimed, her voice just a bit too loud, drawing a few amused glances from other skaters nearby. She clutched at your arm like her life depended on it, her gaze fixed on you as if you were the only thing keeping her from crashing.
"Relax, I've got you," you said, wrapping your arm around her waist to steady her. "Just... try to stand straight. Use your core, okay?"
She let out a huff, shooting you a look. "Easy for you to say," she mumbled, her grip tightening as she leaned heavily against you, still wobbling unsteadily. "I play... on grass, not on this... this ice!"
You bit back a laugh, doing your best to keep her upright as you slowly guided her around the rink. She moved cautiously, her feet sliding haphazardly, and you could feel her frustration growing as she struggled to keep her balance.
"If you let me fall," she said, her voice low and serious, "you are single by tomorrow. Understand?"
The look she gave you was so intense that you couldn't tell if she was joking or not, and you felt a wave of laughter bubbling up, but you managed to keep it together. "Understood, captain," you replied, giving her a little nod. "I won't let go."
Alexia relaxed a bit, though her gaze remained focused on her skates, her movements awkward as she tried to mimic your graceful gliding. Every so often, she'd slip, and you'd tighten your grip, practically supporting her full weight as you kept her from toppling over.
After a few minutes, she looked up at you, a slightly embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. "Why... why am I so bad at this?" she asked, her tone almost pouty.
You smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Hey, it's your first time. Besides, you're adorable when you're not good at something."
She narrowed her eyes at you, but the hint of a smile betrayed her amusement. "Adorable? I am... I am captain, not adorable!"
"Sure, sure," you replied, grinning as you guided her a little further along. "But I think the team would agree that you're both."
With a huff, she tried to straighten up, her grip on you loosening slightly as she gained a bit of confidence. "I... I think I am getting it," she said, her voice a little stronger now.
"You are! See, I knew you could do it," you encouraged, beaming at her as she wobbled forward a few more steps without holding onto you quite as tightly.
Emboldened by her minor success, Alexia took a deep breath, releasing her grip on your arm entirely as she attempted to skate on her own. You hovered nearby, ready to catch her if needed, but to your surprise, she managed a few wobbly strides without faltering.
"Look, I'm doing it!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement as she managed to skate a few more feet. You could see the pride in her expression, and it warmed your heart to see her enjoying herself.
But just as she started to gain momentum, disaster struck. She slid forward, gaining a bit too much speed, her balance wavering. Before either of you could react, she veered slightly to the left and collided headfirst with an unsuspecting child who was standing nearby, also unsteady on his skates.
The child yelped, stumbling backward, and Alexia nearly fell herself, barely managing to catch herself as she regained her balance. Both she and the child stared at each other, equally shocked.
"Hey!" the kid exclaimed, frowning up at her as he rubbed his shoulder. "Watch where you're going!"
Alexia, still flustered, straightened up, trying to regain her composure. "It was... your fault," she argued, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest. "You should not... stand in middle of the ice!"
The child crossed his arms, glaring right back at her. "Maybe you should learn how to skate first!"
You watched the exchange, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Alexia, captain of her team and a force on the field, was now arguing with a child on an ice rink, both of them equally indignant.
Before things could escalate, you skated over, gently pulling Alexia back by the arm. "Alright, alright, let's not start a fight here," you said, smiling apologetically at the child's parents, who had appeared to escort their son away.
Alexia huffed, crossing her arms as she glared after the child, clearly miffed. "He was in my way," she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
You chuckled, gently guiding her off the ice and back to the benches. "Maybe we're not quite ready for solo skating yet," you teased, patting her shoulder. "But you did great for your first time."
She pouted, her arms still crossed as she sank down onto the bench, looking away with a grumpy expression. Her cheeks were still flushed, and you could tell she was a mix of embarrassed and frustrated.
"Hey," you said softly, sitting down beside her and nudging her with your shoulder. "How about some hot chocolate? Would that cheer you up?"
At the mention of hot chocolate, her expression softened slightly, and she gave a reluctant nod. "Okay... but only if I get the biggest one," she mumbled, her tone still a bit pouty.
You laughed, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Deal. Biggest hot chocolate they have, just for you."
A few minutes later, you returned with two steaming cups of hot chocolate, the whipped cream piled high on both. You handed Alexia her cup, and she immediately took a sip, her eyes lighting up as she tasted the rich, warm chocolate.
"Better?" you asked, smiling as you watched her take another sip, her pout finally fading.
She nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Yes... much better." She glanced at you, her cheeks still pink, but this time from the warmth of the hot chocolate.
You couldn't resist the urge to tease her a little more. "You know, even though ice skating isn't exactly your thing, you looked pretty adorable out there."
She rolled her eyes, though you could see the hint of a smile as she took another sip. "You... you like to tease me too much."
You grinned, reaching over to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as you leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Only because I love you."
She blushed, her gaze dropping as she murmured, "I love you too." Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "Thank you... for not letting me fall."
You chuckled, gently nudging her with your shoulder. "Anytime, captain. Besides, I'd like to keep my girlfriend."
With a laugh, she kicked her legs playfully, a soft smile lighting up her face as she leaned against you, completely content. The rest of the world faded away as you held her close, savoring the warmth of her presence and the quiet joy of the moment.
As you sat there, watching her kick her legs and sip her hot chocolate, you realized that these were the moments you cherished mostâsmall, simple, and full of laughter, just the two of you, exactly where you wanted to be.
**
Tags:
@ceesimz @marysfics @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan
#alexia putellas x reader#groucy alexia putellas#alexia putellas x you#soft alexia putellas#la reina#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso appreciation#woso soccer
293 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it
The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water
He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didnât even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.
He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.
He honestly didnât even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasnât until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized⌠he kinda didnât know anything about you.
I mean he did. He knew your name, your heightâŚ. The colour of your eyesâŚ. And hair⌠andâŚ
âSo what do you do?â He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. âWhat?â âHobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?â He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. âYou know⌠the usual stuff-â you awkwardly chuckle. âI donât know actually.â He was a little shit about it.
But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think youâre a grave robber by the way you were acting.
Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.
Very supportive.
Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.
At first he thinks itâs cute, but heâs not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(
Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say heâs proud of you after. But doesnât do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even itâs the two of you in line on a slow day.
Slowly learns to accept that youâre passionate in your own way. Heâs loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that youâre so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you donât show other people. Thinks itâs adorable.
Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and donât want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.
Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.
Heâs not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesnât draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz youâre always attached next to him and he doesnât have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.
Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didnât know.
He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didnât matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didnât matter.
In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.
Youâre learning to be confident while heâs learning to be trusting.
#ferg0s#blue lock barou#baro shoei#barou shoei x reader#blue lock oneshots#blue lock imagines#blue lock#blue lock x reader#barou fluff#barou x reader#barou shouei
120 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The books and the shows aren't the same thing and?? That's okay?? It doesn't have to be??
Some of the artists haven't even seen the show yet, and maybe won't đ¤ˇââď¸ I know I've seen like. The 1st episode and that's it lol. And I really enjoyed it and I think it's really fun
But people tend to separate book fandoms from in screen fandoms, to an extent, at least, bc there ARE differences, and THATS OKAY
They are very connected but they are not the same and I don't understand why people find that so hard to accept?? Like. Genuinely I'm so confused lol
Like if someone was being disrespectful, or trying to whitewash Leah or something horrid then like. Defend her!!! (Do try to be polite tho bc people can and often do change, and they know what they have been taught until they learn more- like for example, a few years ago I had no idea ab anything lgtbq and I peob would have gotten myself canceled bc I had. No idea. Ab any of it. And despite having best intentions in heart i totally would have offended someone, and that would have crushed me, because *i didnt know*. I never would have hurt anyone on purpose, i just didnt realize what COULD hurt others on that specific topic, much less why. But now I identify with it and am learning new things ab jt every day and etc. And that's a super touchy topic for a lot of people and for good reason too! Just try to be kind first, then if they are jerks u can be a jerk back lol. Just give peopke a chnace to get better- and then PLEASE dont hold the past against them ubless they very clearly havent changed mk please please please let people grow and change and get better dont crush them before they can) anti Leah trash is. That. Trash
But why would you attack book Annabeth, just for existing? She was my childhood, and I identified a lot with her as I grew up. And guess what! I also identified with Hazel, and I do so even more now! No matter what race she will be casted as, I'm still going to imagine BOOK Hazel the way I always did. Doesn't mean I won't adore her actress, or appreciate art of the girl playing her role! But would you call me racist for drawing her as African American if her actress, was, say, Asian American? Or drawing Leo as Latino instead of Somoan? Because to me, u less I am being a jerk about it, all I'm doing is drawing the book instead of the show. Idk I'm too sleep deprived to put my thoughts into coherent words lol
I love the posts, where it's like, book Annabeth and show Annabeth holding hands. Those posts are my favorite, both because they are freaking adorable, but also. Because it's equal
They are different aspects of the same person
And
Thats
Okay
You know???
I quite literally grew up reading pjo. I read it at least once every year since I learned HOW to read, *partially on pjo*, until late middle school. I was raised on book Annabeth.
Show Annabeth is new and exciting and adorable and I'm so happy for it and I am very excited for all the people being introduced to it!!!!!!!! However, when I'm writing book pjo, I'm not swaping it out for show scenes, bc they are, in fact, different. Which, again, NOT A BAD THING. And you know what? When people from the show fandom write their scenes, they aren't going to be thinking ab the book scenes, and THATS OKAY TOO!!! And I could care less how my readers saw my characters when the read the story. I write them the way I imagine them, but it's their job as the reader to say 'no, actually :P' and swap out the appearance for one they liked better.
I did that plenty often as a kid, and i donf regeret it.
Which, ironically enough, was why my book Percy was blond until ab 6th grads XD I mixed up Luke and Percy's hair description ONCE and just. Never questioned it, though all the rereads, or looking at the covers of the books đ you can imagine my shock when I joined the fandom and found out Percy had black hair, instead of sandy hair like, you know, S A N D, like poseidon!!! And now show Percy is blond XD
That just proves people can imagine things how they want and jts okay- especially bc maybe, in an au, they're rifht!!! (Au being show Percy to me)
Anyways I lost my train of thought and it's almost 12 here lolll I hope I didn't say anything ill be embarrassed by come tomorrow~
Good night world :3
Hi guys, wanted to discuss something going on for a while now. What the hell is wrong with pjotwt? Like...whats wrong with this people? Do you see what they say? What they are even trying to do?
First of all, let me start by speaking about the cast. They are all wonderful children, Leah especially! She is doing an amazing job as Annabeth. But book Annabeth still exists yk? She is and she is literally white. It is not racist. But denying about a character being white in the books, even spreading hate like this...is racist. There are people out there related with Annabeth for years. People love her, every version, maybe book more maybe even the movie. How can you disrespect her like this? And most importantly, how can they attack an artist like this, with an art being so beautiful. What they are trying to do is not protecting Leah, it is spreading hate. It is awful. Making this fandom toxic, so so much.
Them trying to erase book Annabeth because she is white, trying to cover her by painting on her, shaming artists, calling people that loves her racist...What do we do about this in pjo fandom? This fandom used to be so beautiful, but now. This people are not part of the fandom in my eyes, because real fans, would respect every version of the characters, love them with their anything, even flaws. They would protect this characters because they love them, so much. And not to mention this characters are the ones Rick wrote 20 years ago, they were with us for so long.
What do tumblr think about this I wonder? Since pjo fandom is pretty active here :3
#is it so hard to just like love them all? i consider all versions of the pjo characters canon. who says that there only has to be one canon?#ramblings with regina#thd show and the books are dif and thags how its SUPPOSED TK BE#ITS OKAY#and so are everones interpretations :á#let them coexhsist as they shoulddddd#im not giving up my book annie for show and- OR VICE VERSA#THEY ARE TBE WAY THEY ARE MEANT TO BE#LOVS THEM FHEG ARE AMAZING AND BEAUFIFUL#and so are everyones interperetaions :3#i enjoy seeing posts that play around with dif nationalities dor all of the characters#anyways cutting off b4 i ramble again gn~
162 notes
¡
View notes
Text
SEVIKA X F!READER
-no warnings just pure fluff
âYOU MAKE ME FEEL⌠AT HOME.â
The bar was lively that night, packed with regulars and a few unfamiliar faces, filling the place with laughter and the occasional clash of tankards. Y/n moved between tables, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she poured drinks and listened to customersâ stories. Her soft demeanor and kind eyes were a quiet contrast to the roughness of the barâs usual patrons.
Sevika stepped in, her presence immediately drawing attention. She was used to commanding the room, but tonight, her eyes drifted past the crowds, drawn to the bartender in the cornerâY/n. Sevika had heard rumors about her, a quiet girl with a heart of gold, and sheâd laughed them off. Love wasnât something she ever had time for. But the moment she saw Y/n, her heart stumbled.
As she made her way to the bar, Sevika watched Y/n work, the gentleness in her movements, the shy glances she gave her customers, her soft âthank yousâ and nods. She found herself, for once, a little nervous.
Y/n approached, giving her a warm smile. âWhat can I get for you?â
Sevika cleared her throat, trying to keep her cool. âJust a whiskey,â she replied, unable to take her eyes off her.
As Y/n poured the drink, a group of drunk men seated nearby noticed her and started making noisesâwhistles, crude comments, laughing too loudly. Y/n glanced over nervously, her face turning a shade of pink, but she kept her focus on the task, setting the whiskey in front of Sevika with a quiet, âHere you go.â
âThanks,â Sevika muttered, throwing a quick glare toward the men, who were now staring at Y/n with obvious intentions. Sevika took a slow sip of her drink, fighting the urge to interfere.
One of the men staggered over, leaning too close. âHey, sweetheart,â he slurred, âwhy donât you come over here and give us a little company, hmm?â
Y/nâs cheeks reddened as she took a step back. âI⌠Iâm just working,â she replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Sevika watched the man with a hardened stare. âI think sheâs fine where she is,â she growled, her voice carrying a warning.
The man glanced over, catching sight of Sevikaâs glare and the mechanical arm resting on the bar. He muttered something under his breath and retreated, going back to his table with his friends.
Y/n looked up at Sevika, gratitude shining in her eyes. âThank you,â she said softly.
Sevika shrugged, trying to act casual. âCanât have idiots like that bothering you. Besides,â she added with a smirk, âIâve got my own reasons to want your attention.â
Y/nâs face turned pink, and she looked down, fiddling with her apron nervously. âWell, um⌠what⌠what kind of reasons?â she managed to ask, her shyness making Sevikaâs heart beat a little faster.
âYouâre a good listener,â Sevika replied, leaning in closer, her gaze softening. âA little quiet, but⌠I like that. Makes me feel like I donât have to be all tough around you.â
Y/n gave a shy smile, her fingers brushing her hair back. âMost people donât like the quiet,â she admitted. âThey think itâs boring.â
âBoring?â Sevika scoffed, her voice low. âI think itâs⌠calming. And I donât know what it is about you, but you make me feelâŚâ She hesitated, almost embarrassed to admit it. ââŚat home.â
Y/nâs smile grew, and she reached out, resting her hand on Sevikaâs. Her touch was gentle, tentative, but Sevika felt warmth spreading through her chest. âThatâs probably the nicest thing anyoneâs ever said to me,â Y/n murmured.
Sevika chuckled, feeling a rare shyness herself. âGuess I should come around here more often.â
Y/n bit her lip, her gaze meeting Sevikaâs. âI⌠I wouldnât mind that,â she whispered, her voice full of sincerity.
The night passed, and Sevika stayed, letting herself relax, talking and laughing with Y/n between orders. The world outside the bar seemed to disappear.
HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!
53 notes
¡
View notes
Text
ok so i usually give my fanpoints likeeee outfits but i didnt ever have the motivation to give marsi one .. until now
#WEHEHEHEHEH#af2#af2 art#fanpoint#adventure forward 2#marsi#the precious pearl i love how this came out WAAUUGGHH#silly sea point !! Silly !!!#trying to get back into drawing hands more often
3 notes
¡
View notes
Text
quick traditional piece for fun ^^
#I dont work traditionally very often because it hurts my hands quite a bit#if it's something that only takes me an hour or so then I can do it#but if we're getting into 2-3+ hour territory...#can't do it :(#theoretically I could pause and come back but when you're mixing colors and stuff that ends up being pretty dang rough#buuuut I'm trying to do more non-computer stuff lately...#so I'll probably do some little things here or there#been sooo tired lately lol sorry#I've been working and dont have much to share unfortunately!#I cant really share MOST of the panels I've been doing#the nature of what I'm writing like... 90% of what I'm drawing right now is legitimately spoilers...#so I can't even share wips!!!#I do have something I'm hoping to get posted soon but I've gotta wait on some other people for it...#anyways#we were legion#zagan#traditional art#art#my art#my ocs#demon#underwater#man why do I tag that other stuff I doubt anyone is going to my blog an searching that
108 notes
¡
View notes
Note
"Very well," Noah repeated, walking Larsa to the bed. Why, he didn't know. It just felt right to want to tuck him in in some way, as a real father might. His comment caused an unchecked smile to escape him. "I do not sleep at my desk, my lord," he said, before reconsidering a little. "Not every night." How often had he fallen asleep on his paperwork? Here, though, he had no such paperwork to do, and so nodding off at his desk occurred far less often. "I sleep here," he said, stepping away from the bed a little to where a hammock was hung from the ceiling. He laid his hand on the side of it. "I sleep far better here," was the only explanation he offered the boy.
As Larsa got into the bed, Noah held back the covers for him and then moved them over him once he'd laid down. The sheer normalness of that act, the sheer simplicity of it, struck Noah very hard. He turned away a little, swallowing thickly. "Goodnight, Larsa," he said, not realizing that he'd dropping all honorifics, unable to keep the affection from his tone, even if it was laced with a soft sadness.
After getting one last glass of water for himself, Noah turned off the remaining lights in the room and climbed into his hammock. His thoughts kept him awake for some time. They concerned Larsa and Drace and everything both right and wrong in his life at the moment. He simply wasn't able to turn off his mind to sleep, not right away. That had been true ever since the fall of Landis, and it had only become worse as the years went on.
At some point, in the dead of night, Noah awoke with a start, causing the hammock to sway considerably. His shirt felt damp and he knew he'd been sweating. Mercifully, he didn't remember what the nightmare had been about, but he knew it had been harrowing. He could venture a guess, for there were only a few topics that bothered him enough to disturb his mind even during sleep. It had either to do with Amoretta, with Basch, or with the idea of losing Drace of Larsa.
...Larsa!
Noah suddenly lurched forward drawing the side of the hammock down so he could see the boy over in the bed. His heart pounded in his chest and had anyone been awake to see it, they would have found his expression one of fear and distress. But... the boy was safe. He was still there, in his room and his previous unused bed, fast asleep. There was an angelic quality to his face as he sleep, Noah thought, and as he lay there watching his son sleep, his heart slowed itself and his mind slowed down into focus. A calm washed over him. A happiness. Perhaps some pride. Hope. That was what Larsa had always been able to do for him, but perhaps now more than ever, the boy was doing it without even trying.
With a soft sigh, Noah rolled back onto his back, letting go of the side of the hammock. Closing his eyes, he felt peace wash over him, and soon he was asleep again, this time without incident. And, as was usual for Noah as a night owl, he slept in until late morning. What woke him was a firm knock upon his door. With a groan and a hand through his short hair, he rolled out of the hammock and crossed the room to the door. "Who is there?" he asked gruffly.
"'Tis about time you rose, Gabranth. Or do you plan to sleep through the entirety of the morn?" Drace's voice came through the door.
He could tell simply by the sound of her voice that she was smirking at him, and so he responded with his own, quite without thinking. Opening the door, he put a finger to his lips and then nodded towards the bed, where Larsa was still sleeping.
Drace's smirk became even more amused, if not a touch confused as well, and her eyes narrowed questioningly at Noah.
Noah's own smile lingered and he gave a slight shrug.
Drace nodded in response, their whole conversation carried on in silence until she finally said, "I shall meet you in the common kitchen then, for an early lunch?"
Noah nodded and let her go, quietly closing the door. He'd have to rouse Larsa soon, but he felt badly for doing so. The boy needed his rest, after all.
Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement
@tarnishedxjudgement
Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.
It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.
So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.
But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.
What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.
He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.
"My lord..."
#tarnishedxjudgement#alt muse: noah#{ unwilling avenger } áľáśáľ áľáľĘłË˘áľ#alt muse: drace#{ imperial avenger } áľáśáľ áľáľĘłË˘áľ#{ the darker corners of ivalice } áľáľâąâż áľáľĘłË˘áľ âť áľáľĘłáľ áľáľâąáľâąáľâż
68 notes
¡
View notes
Photo
Wuh oh (Patreon)
Bonus:
The novel experience of being crushed by a giant rock, a visual metaphor
#Doodles#ISaT#Siffrin#Loop#Yaaaay suffering <3 <3 <3#Lol#Starting with a cute practice Sif to get used to drawing them a bit more they're so cute what the heck#He's so shaped I love that for him and about him#Crisp design very nice#Sif really is the embodiment of ''Ignorance is bliss'' and being so maladjusted about it :'D#His memory issues make the me a sad#Ironically I try not to think about it too hard or else I'll get Really sad lol#Memory is the foundation of individual personhood! It's such a tragedy weh#Him brushing things off by falling back into his issues is just so agh Sif no you deserve better!#Some sillies lol I never know if I should give content warnings for these kinds of jokes - I don't make them often!#Loop's line in the Jello streams is So good I couldn't not lol#Happy Wednesday fr btw lol yes I did do that on purpose#The last one agh the red and like - can we talk about Sif (and Loop's and Odile's) specific portraits where their hands do the spark thing??#I always forget how art can be Whatever and that overlapping/removing lineart to imply shapes and movement and just jfdslafd#It's so cool I love it so much it's very inspiring#The bonus is mostly a joke lol - again while watching the Jello streams Lenti was talking about how much she relates to Sif#And I was privately like ''Haha thank goodness I don't relate to him! Couldn't be me!'' And Then#It's fine lol I'm aware of my overlapping issues - I fall more on the Isa side of ''Sounds fake but okay'' but yeah.....yeahhhh lol#As long as I don't get trapped in a time loop about it! Poor Sif haha
107 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Hi y'all, I just wanted to talk a little about the behind the scenes of what I've been up to, to give y'all a little transparency and to open myself up for any tips or input! đ Thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to look at my art đŤś
First and foremost I wanted to give some transparency about my art capacity.
As og followers may remember, I started this blog when I was doing art full time. Eventually my living expenses grew and I had to go back to work. I find myself in a cycle of "I'll make more art soon, once I get a job!" And "I'll make more art soon, once I am done with this job!" I lost my most recent job suddenly, having had an extension waved over my head until the last day(October 7th). Now I'm excited to have more time for art, but I am also feeling a rush to get a new job ASAP as I've been living paycheck to paycheck. I dream of doing this work full time, I'm just scared it's not quite there yet and I worry that I come off as scammy or dishonest when I anticipate more stability around the corner.
Second, I've been struggling with the Patreon. It's taken me a while to come to terms with this, but from what I've seen Patreon is not intuitive at all from the creator end. It doesn't do a good job of organizing addresses, emails, showing who or who isn't subscribed to me, or organizing and displaying the work I put on there. I've been really shocked by this experience, since lots of big names use Patreon. It's been a great way to streamline support, but it's been unhelpful in every other regard. I would like to continue using it, but I will most likely post more wips or process videos there in the future.
Which brings me to my third point, zines. I love making zines so much, it feels personal and fulfilling and fun! However the Patreon issues make it harder to keep information in order about where to send zines, or even where to message folks about them. In addition to this, the post office has been a big barrier to me, oftentimes only being open at the same time as my dayjob. Making zines can take days, then sending them out is a whole other monster.
This work is so important to me. Drawing peoples fantasies, representing body types, creating work around sexuality and the human experience feels like what I'm meant to do. I've made comics since I was a kid. This is the dream to me. The friends I've been able to make through this work are so important to me, and the conversations have been invaluable. Not to mention fun! I wanna doodle, I wanna draw hot stuff, I wanna thirst over these dudes! I want to play!
But I also just want to be transparent about the barriers I'm working around to share that experience. I'm completely self taught, both in art AND in running shops, building websites, running 8 accounts, etc. I take a lot of time to learn the logistics of these things, and try to make them make sense for my relationship with y'all (I do not want to paywall my art!! I don't want to!!!). This year my desktop broke down (the main one I use for all paintings and digital art). I've paused my Etsy shops and my Patreon to try to catch up with things. Trying to learn to paint in a completely different program. Then lost my job with no savings.
At the end of the day I don't want anything to come between me sharing my art with you. I wish I could doodle a thing, take a picture, and post it here. No third party site, no shop, no subscription. Just sharing my art with you. I promise I'm trying to figure out how to stay as close to that as possible, and I want to thank y'all for sticking with me as I untangle all of that.
So, what can you expect in the near future?
I'm working on a couple of painting commissions right now, which you should be able to see in the next couple of days! I want to catch up on kinktober and get those posted as well. There's a comic commission in progress which I'm very eager to work on, and which I think y'all will be excited for! To ease the weight of the Patreon I think I may do less zines/polls there and more wips and process videos! If possible, I want to do more full colored work too.
Thank you again for enjoying my work, and if you have any input or tips my inbox is always open đđŤśđ
#long post#info#marco lore#i wish i had time to edit this and make it nice#i just wanted to be open with yall about how much work this takes and that im trying to make it more doable#i don't want to overpromise stuff with patreon or shops and if im late sending stuff i never ever want it to come off as intentional or mali#malicious or as a scam#im just trying very hard to like ...survive. financially. and then trying to make all the logistics of thos big machine work. and then keep#up with commissions and shops and printing and mailing#god i wish i had employees but jts just me#i hand draw everything and then post it here to the word press to the ig and crop and caption and tag#then to the Patreon if it makes sense to or to the tiktok back in the day#and the formatting is all different#and i get messages across all of these platforms and I'm trying to learn a new way of painting on the fly#on top of that im supposed to be running my two Etsy shops too which im not right now because..broadly gestures#my nervous system can only take losing a job so often. the rug was really pulled feom under me in this one. i thought id have more time#i don't want to sound like I'm whining and i don't want to give up on all of this#i want to be very very very clear that art is what i love and who i am and what i want to do#i want to be posting on the daily again#i just need to evaluate what that looks like everytime life changes#I'm seriously so grateful for those of y'all that have joined the Patreon or bought stuff from the shop i really don't mean to drop the ball#so many times#y'all have literally been the difference between me making rent or not and I'm so worried that i don't make enough art to give back to that#relationship#im trying my best#okay anyways im posting this
18 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Some concepts for the siblings
#keese draws#rain world#rain world survivor#rain world monk#just impulsive slug cat practice mostly but I also have been wanting to draw them#I wanna try my hand at making fun designs for some of the others so I needed to get my baseline first#I wanna go for more rodent vibes than cat but not too much so#I also wanna draw some of my other slugcat biology hcs but no promises Iâve been going thru it lately#oh yeah and I do imagine most slugcats as completely hairless so no fluffy arti sorry yâall#she does get the closest to having actual teeth of all of them tho so thatâs a win for her#well ok all slugcats kind of have teeth but theyâre more like small spines that line the front of their mouths#they donât chew on food tho the teeth are for tearing bits of food off of things#carnivorous slugcats have bigger spines that more so resemble teeth but only in the sense that theyâre much larger and easier to see#they also very much hurt more although usefulness in combat is often limited#as getting a good enough grip on a moving target ainât easy#in fact these big ol teeth are more meant to be used for trapping prey while they like beat them to death or smth#but with larger prey becoming most carnivorous scugs main food source they donât get used that way as often anymore#in my minds eye way way back slugcats used to be egg predators but as more and more dangerous predators started being common they adapted#a much more omnivorous diet with most of their protein coming from bugs#and hey now they eat bug eggs full circle Babey
22 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Girl, I Do This Often
Synopsis. How does he cope with a sĂŠx ban? He doesnât.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough sĂŠx, unprotected, stuff with pantĂes, gaggĂng, brĂŠeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstĂm, finger suckĂng, really desperate boys, light smackĂng (Nanami), bondagĂŠ + vĂbrators (Geto), swearing.
Word count. 5.2k
A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.
⥠TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days
On the first day, Tojiâs more amused than anything.
A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, âYouâll be eating your words soon enough, doll.â
By the third day, heâs beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute.Â
Heâs left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesnât have much to say other than cut off Tojiâs ramblings about ânot having your pretty pussy all dayâ to groan, âShut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. Iâm hanging up.â
Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-
That was until the fourth day.Â
With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.
âPlease, pretty.â Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. âSaid mâsorry, right? Donât ya miss this?â
And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.
So close. So big.
Big enough that youâre almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.
But that little smirk of Tojiâs is infuriating enough that youâre gasping out a breathless little, âI-Iâm still mad at you, yâknow? You never let me-â The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs.Â
âNo no no- hah. Keep talking.â he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. âPlease- keep talking.â
And fuck you didnât know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Tojiâs cock long enough that you could.Â
âB-because you-â you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. âYou never let me take-â He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. â-charge.â
âF-fuck-â Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. âYer killinâ me doll. Killing me.â Whether from your words or from the way youâre sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didnât know.Â
And Toji didnât either. Hell, he doesnât even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you.Â
âToji-â you mewl. âNeed you so bad.â
If he was any lesser man, Toji wouldâve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lilâ mind. Instead, heâs panting out an absolutely wrecked, âPlease. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.â Â Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. âNext time.â
And oh has it really been that long?
Because Tojiâs just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how youâre already mumbling his name so deliriously.Â
âAwww,â he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. âThe s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?â
Youâre pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Tojiâs guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, âAre ya gonna sh-shut up nâ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?â
âNo, maâam.â he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know heâs making fun of you with the way heâs twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. âGuess youâre the one mm- in charge right now, huh?â
Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way heâs wanted these past four days - and then some.Â
Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that heâs sure itâll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while youâre torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-
âRight here.â
Itâs all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, âWh-what?âÂ
âRightâŚâ Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. âHere. Sâwhere I belong.â Pressing hard. âNâ mâgonna make sure you donât forget it.â
⥠NANAMI KENTO - 1 week
A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to âspice things upâ. One week of pretending like he wasnât excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.
One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did.Â
By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanamiâs mouth drops into a soft oh!Â
One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether heâs even breathing.Â
Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, âPanties off. Spread those legs.â
That was a few hours ago.Â
Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.
Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind.Â
âK-Kento- what-â he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. âYouâre ngh- different.â
At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, âYeah? Nâ whoâs fault is hah- that? Whoâs fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-â Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. â-this?â
Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lilâ cunt exactly the way heâs been fantasizing this past week.
And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard.Â
Smack!
âDidnât you know weâd end up here?â
Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, âI- I didnât-â Smack! Youâre jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, â-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-â
And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew youâd pulled this little âsex banâ stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully.Â
âKnew it.â he manages to grit out. âKnew you were such a slut, my love.â Words strained with each harsh thrust, âNâ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?â You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, âRight?â
And as if to prove you could, heâs squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots heâs mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.
âDidnât hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?â Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, âHave to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?â Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. âSâall for this, right?â
Smack!Â
âOh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.â
âYeah? Feels good?â he nips at your lower lip, âGood enough to fuck- take another one?â
You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.
Youâre not even lucid enough to realize what reaction youâre giving him - all you know is that it isnât good enough for Nanami.Â
Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside.Â
âFine.â And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didnât bode well for you or your poor cunt. âGuess I hafta ngh- help you.â Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen.Â
The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him.Â
And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch itâll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way youâre soaking Nanamiâs merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds.Â
âSee? Enough space, no?â
You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanamiâs darkened ones and oh-
You werenât going to make it out alive.Â
Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, âNow I get to give ya another weekâs worth more, right?â
⥠GETO SUGURU - 9 days
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
You didnât know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about whoâd be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban.Â
How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.
Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote.Â
âYouâre drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?â
You know you arenât - but you canât help the way your face burns at your boyfriendâs low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. âN-no fair, Sugu.â you whine. âI want to-â
Intensity setting 2.
But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way youâre so wrecked already.Â
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
âI-I want to-â he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didnât make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. âMy poor baby. Sânot nice, right?â And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, âBut isnât this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isnât this-â Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily heâs fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, â-what you were asking for?â
âNo.â youâre tugging at the ties at your wrist, âI wantedâŚâ
Intensity setting 3.Â
But oh itâs like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too.Â
Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldnât help himself - as if he didnât want to help himself - the remote falls out of Getoâs hand, âaccidentallyâ locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself.Â
âF-fuck-â he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. âHeh, looks like Iâm winning the bet.â
You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. âYouâre a cheater, Iâd have w-won this bet otherwise.â
Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when youâre fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth.Â
Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again.Â
Intensity setting 4.Â
âAnd youâre too cute.â he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. âSo if you ask me nicely I might just-â Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, â-give you my cock, gorgeous.â
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
Itâs all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly.Â
âAwww, still not giving up?â At your delirious little headshake, âThen how about this?âÂ
Intensity setting 5.Â
And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, âOh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, mâgonna-â It makes you cum.
âThaâs it.â Geto canât help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way youâre so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties.Â
So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because youâre murmuring something so incoherent into his lips.Â
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-
God, doesnât matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.
âWhatâs that?â he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way youâre twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, âMâsorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up fâme, hm?â
âP-please fuck me, Sugu.â
âThought youâd never ask.â
⥠CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours
If Choso had it his way, then youâd both still be at home and heâd be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint.Â
But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully.Â
So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-
Chosoâs chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.
Fuck it.
âSh-shit, Choso I-âÂ
âKeep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.â heâs panting into your open mouth, tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. âThough, I donât ngh- mind.â
And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.
Over and over and-
âCho!â you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how youâre scrambling to cover your mouth. âTh-theyâll hear.â
âSo?â
And itâs all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way heâs fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasnât in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.
âI donât mind hah- that either.â Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. âW-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdinâ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.â
Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didnât know it would be this easy.
âBut you promised.â youâre letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Chosoâs achingly hard cock. âYou hngh- promised we wouldnât at your familyâsâŚâ
The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot.Â
Gasping out a ragged, âI know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.â Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. âBut shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?â
âY-youâre so fuckinâ dirty.â you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls werenât sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. âShouldâve made the ngh- sex ban even long-â
He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, âDonât even joke about that.âÂ
And if Choso expected a response, then he didnât act that way.Â
Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-
No.Â
You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Chosoâs fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Chosoâs hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-
And then youâre cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Chosoâs massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind.Â
âF-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- weâre never coming back here for dinner again.â
And itâs all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully.Â
It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his.Â
It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way itâs too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesnât give a fuck - doesnât care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place.Â
Whispering lowly against your lips, âK-keep it in till we leave, hm?â
âCho-â
Knock! Knock! Knock!
âThe fuck? You brats fall in or something?â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days
The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small.Â
Why? All because he hasnât been able to fuck your pretty lilâ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.
And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never.Â
âPleaseâŚbrat.â he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones heâd bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. âThere I said it. Now jusâ a bit more-â
And maybe youâre a mastermind - maybe youâre an idiot. Because youâre digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole.Â
You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, âI didnât like your tone.â Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, âEither you beg nâ start all over again or-â
âFine.â he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, âPlease.â
âLouder.â
âPlease.â
There you had it. And you canât help but smirk, âWell, I liked that one-â
Nothing more is said - in Sukunaâs eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because heâs got his favorite lilâ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before heâs splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.
âYa donât hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.â he kisses your ankles so softly. âHow many I wanted to kill.â
And God, if you didnât know any better youâd say itâs like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump!Â
Letting out a strangled moan of, âThere you go.â Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, âSqueezinâ me so- tight. Heh, almost â
âOh hngh- âKuna!â you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- âSâtoo- much-â
âShut up.â he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. âYa wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-â The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lilâ pout, âOpen up.â
Itâs so embarrassing the way you canât do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice.Â
So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose.Â
âWanted the king to beg, huh?â Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. âWell you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?â
And you couldnât speak up even if you wanted to. Sukunaâs hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-
Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, âHeh, what? Canât talk?âÂ
And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-
âOh my god- K-â Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin.Â
Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, âNow shut up. Mâgonna get my fill of the last two days.â
⥠GOJO SATORU - 4 hours
To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him
It wasnât often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to youâd given him about âno sneaking out during meetings.â Especially when youâre sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.
Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so. Â
Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-
And that was when he felt it.Â
That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks heâs imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you.Â
It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-
âGojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?â
He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. âI thinkâŚâ he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, â-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.â
Oh?Â
And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom.Â
âT-Toru-â you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. âThe meeting-â
âThe meeting isnât here now, right?âÂ
Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husbandâs. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck youâve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.
And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.
âD-didnât I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?â You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.
âYou did.â Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, âBut this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.â
Gojoâs like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste.Â
Gasping out a wet, âFuck the ban. Canât go without ya. Canât-â One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. â-canât live without this pretty cunt.â
And then itâs like something snaps - Gojoâs patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls.Â
Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, âFuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-â Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit â-wouldâve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, youâre lucky Iâm a jealous man.â
âOh- oh my god, sâtoo- too- big!â
God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they werenât being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving.Â
Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself.Â
You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.
âNo-â he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. âNo no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.â
Going faster.Â
Deeper.Â
You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. âB-but Toru-â You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. â-we should ngh- hurry up. W-weâll be late to the meeting-â
But does it really matter? Gojo doesnât think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.
Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lilâ pleas about something stupid like âresponsibilitiesâ.Â
So he really canât help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-
âNot yet.â he grins against your lips, âWeâre not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.â
A/N. Gojoâs came out toooo long I donât even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).
Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
18K notes
¡
View notes
Text
ânever is a promiseâ | 12.4k
old man!logan x f!reader
SUMMARY: You are everything Logan isnât: sweet, trouble-free, much youngerâand, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ mentions of drinking. angst. some fluff. old man!logan x caregiver!reader. implied age gap (readerâs in her twenties). miscommunication. slow burn. pining. reader is shorter than logan and has long hair. charles in his cupid era. petnames. minor injuries. wound tending. mentions of blood. virgin!reader. dirty talk. cum shots. fingering. handjobs. oral sex (m receiving). loving sex. sex with a lot of feelings (is that a tag?). unprotected p in v.
A/N: i just want to fall in love with him. thatâs it. thatâs the reason why i wrote this long ass fic đ while doing so, i had ânever is a promiseâ by fiona apple and âcool about itâ by boygenius on repeat. give them a try if you havenât listened to them (your lives will be CHANGED) (also, thank you for reading <3)
No matter how often you play chess with Charles, you never manage to beat him.Â
âYouâve been staring at that knight for five minutes. Itâs not going anywhere, I promise.â
Chuckling at his sarcasm, you fold your hands in your lap, lifting your eyebrows in mock surrender. âOkay, I get it. Youâre the master of chess,â leaning back in the chair, you cross one leg over the other. âCan we play something else?â
âIâm quite entertained, thank you,â Charles says, sliding the board closer to you across the table. âYour turn.â
âHow is it that you donât get tired of this game?â you mutter under your breath, eyes fixed on the board as you weigh your options, hovering your hand indecisively over the chess pieces.Â
âPlease do something before Iâm forced to make a dash for the toilet.â He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his noseâa telltale sign of one of his irritable days.
His words spur you into action, encouraging you to finally slide the knight into position. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. âYou go now.â
Charles doesnât hesitate, and he moves a bishop. âCheck.â
Fuck. You hadnât seen that coming. âIâd prefer to walk away with my pride,â you joke, pushing your chair back and pretending to lose interest in the board.
That makes him smirk, a barely there grin dangling on the corners of his wrinkled lips. The truth is, you wouldnât stop playing for anything in the worldânot even if this old man kicks your ass every single time he suggests playing chess. âYouâre not out of the game yet.â
Quietness settles over the tank while you allow yourself some time to come up with a new strategy. After a moment, you decide to go for a pawn, using it to block his bishop.
He doesnât stop grinning, studying your move with an amused glint in his blue eyes. âNot bad, but youâve left your king exposed.â
You gape at the board, your fragile confidence faltering for a split second. "I still have some pieces in play."
Charles nods, his brows drawing together in thoughtful consideration. "True. But sometimes, itâs not about how many pieces you have leftââ He reaches out, carefully sliding his queen across the board. "Itâs about where you place them.â He relaxes, hunching over, his eyes searching for yours. A smile thatâs all teeth welcomes you. âCheckmate."
âDamn.â You blow out your cheeks, your gaze tracing the path of his queen. Somehow, heâs trapped your king with no easy way out.
He leans back with a satisfied grin. âThatâs three games in a row. My suggestion is that you start rethinking your strategy.â
âOr maybe youâre just a better player,â you admit, a mix of frustration and admiration palpable in your tone. âNo more chess for today, though.â You stand up from your seat, gathering the board and chess pieces. As usual, they find their place under Charlesâ bed, and you turn back to him, beaming with delight. âI think you owe me one after all this.â
âYouâre a terrible loser, my dear,â he says, his eyes twinkling as they take you in. âReminds me of someone I know.â
At that exact moment, you hear the familiar creak of the tankâs door opening, followed by a cough you immediately recognize.
Without thinking, you straighten your back as Logan steps into the room. Charles notices it, but says nothing in return.
It was an infatuationâor at least, thatâs what you try to convince yourself of. Logan is a very good-looking man, probably the most handsome youâve ever laid eyes on.
The fact that you live with him doesnât help at all. You think that if you only saw him occasionally, thisâthis anxiety that grips you whenever heâs around or when you hear his voiceâwouldnât happen in the first place.
Whether itâs good or bad luck, youâve been sleeping under the same roof as him for over a year, and the crush youâve had since the first time you exchanged words with him only seems to grow stronger with each passing day.
What you figure out over time is that men like Logan arenât the dating type. Heâs never brought anyone home, and for that, youâre secretly grateful. The last thing you need is to see him with another womanâthank you very much. Still, the thought gnaws at you: he could easily be meeting someone elsewhere.
In fact, itâs more than likely that heâs hooking up with other people. It doesnât have to be atâ
Alright. You donât need this either.
Loganâs heavy footsteps resonate even louder, his presence more imposing, and he seems especially pissed off. Then again, he always has that demeanorâangry, grumpy, locked in a constant battle with life.
But today⌠today, you havenât seen him this troubled in weeks.
âLook whoâs joined us,â Charles mumbles, steering his motorized chair to meet him halfway. The chair bumps against Loganâs legs with a thud that sounds almost cartoonish, and Charles scrunches up his nose, his nostrils flaring in disgust. âYou smell like shit.â
âYeah, I missed you too, Pop,â Logan grunts, shoving his hand into the pocket of his suit, searching for something. Thatâs when you notice the bloodstains on his shirt, smeared across his chest, and the missing buttons at the top. Your breath catches in your throat, and you bite your tongue to keep from asking any foolish questions. âThey gave me new ones,â he mutters, looking you in the eye as he tosses the pill bottle at you.
You leap forward to catch it mid-air, your heart skipping a beat. Logan holds your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod and turning on his heel to storm out of the tank.
When your attention goes back to Charles, you see how his eyes remain locked on the pills youâre holding, his head lowering in defeat. âHeâs waiting for me to die.â
âDonât say that.â You squat to be at his eye level, momentarily hiding the meds from his view. Still, you struggle to make him shift his gaze. âHeâs taking care of you, which is something completely different.â You place your hand on top of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Youâve had this same conversation innumerable times, yet each time feels like the first. He offers you a melancholic but knowing look as you softly say: âYou have to take them, Charles. Iâm sorry.â
He raises a hand, his trembling fingers curling around your wrist, examining you, trying to find an answer in the lines. âDonât be. At least youâre here.â
âIâm sure Loganâs tired; thatâs why he doesnât stay any longer. Havenât you seen him?â You rise to your feet, moving behind him to guide his chair. The tank sort of has a chill in the air, metallic walls that seem to press in around you both. âBesides, you wouldnât want to play chess with him. Rest assured Iâll always let you win,â you murmur next to his ear, succeeding in eliciting a chuckle from him.
After that, you help him with his daily routine. Charles isnât heavy, and you manage to get him onto the bed, his frail body yielding to your gentle support.
You slip the rest of his body beneath the blankets, tucking him in carefully before handing him two pills and a glass of water. âAll the way down, okay? And I wanna see that tongue after you swallow them.â
If looks could kill, youâd be six feet under, covered in dust and dirt. Charles sticks his tongue out, putting the glass down on his nightstand. âHappy?â
âYouâve got no idea how much,â you say, adjusting the covers. The silence of the tank surrounds you both, and you can sense his gaze lingering on you. You flick your eyes up, furrowing your brows as you sit in the small space beside him on the mattress. âWhat is it?â
âYou fancy him, donât you?â
Freezing on the spot, your eyes narrow. âIâI donâtââ you trail off, pushing the words out with some effort. âAre you trying to read my mind?â
His whole chest rumbles with laughter under your touch. He finds your hand once again, intertwining your fingers with his. âDonât be so naĂŻve. I donât need my abilities to see the way you get all flustered when he passes by. Why do you think they say older people are wiser?â he inquires, his lips forming a straight line. âWeâve lived too much not to notice the most common things, my dearâand let me tell you that you do a horrible job at pretending.â
âOf course I like him. Loganâs a good man, he keeps us safe.â You glance down at your handsâhis, weak and delicate, in evident contrast to your own. âIâm not in love with him, Cupid.â
âOh, you shouldâve seen him years ago,â Charles says, his eyes glazing over as he drifts back into the past. His body remains here, within the confines of the room, but his mind is elsewhere, somewhere far away. You give his hand a gentle tug, trying to bring him back. âWhen we took him in, he was pursuing a career as a cage fighter. I had never seen anyone like him in all my years of educating mutants. He was so⌠different from the rest. Reserved, didnât talk much at first. But I gave him a family, Iââ His voice falters, overcome by his own emotions.Â
Thatâs when you realize heâs no longer with you, his gaze unfocused, looking around the tank as if seeing it for the first time. It pains you to see him like this, completely disoriented and disconnected from reality.
âWhy are we here? What has happened to the rest? Has he told you anything?â
These are the questions he asks every day without failâquestions that you canât, nor want, to answer. Since youâre not exactly sure the explanation would soothe his troubled mind, you feel forced to play dumb.
âI donât know, Charles. We donât really talk that much, Logan and I.â You stand from the bed, not without pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before. You smile at him, hoping he doesnât realize the gesture lacks authenticity. âWhy donât you get some rest? Iâll let you know if I hear anything worth sharing.â
Once you close the door behind you, you settle back into it, releasing a shaky breath. Being Charlesâ caregiver was a challenging task, especially in moments like these, which required immense internal strength not to crumble in front of him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as you adjust to the harsh sunlight, fighting to regain your composure. When you finally scan the area, the only thing that meets your eye is the deserted smelting plant you now call home.
You open the sliding door, the noise breaking the stillness and forcing Logan to look up from his plate. Heâs eating like a starved man, casually drinking from a small bottle of whisky on the table, already half of it gone. After those long drives through the nights and the early hours, he always returns hungry.
You pour yourself a cup of coffee, setting it on the stove to heat. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes: he eats, and you sip your hot coffee in silence, not wishing to disturb the breakable peace that hangs by a thread.
Thinking this is how the noon will continue, you begin to walk toward your room until he clears his throat, stopping you in your tracks. That simple gesture makes you whirl around, anticipating something.
âThis is delicious,â he acknowledges, pointing to his plate with his fork, the rice with veggies and meat you cooked last night nearly gone. Dipping his chin, he adds in a low voice: âThank you.â
Youâre taken aback by his unexpected willingness to engage in conversation. Moments like these are as rare as seeing Halleyâs Comet, so you proceed with caution, as if youâre approaching a skittish animalâone wrong move, and the opportunity is lost.
Setting your mug down on the table, you sit on the chair opposite him. Deep down, the hammering of your heart echoes in your ears, and you hope his sharp senses donât pick up on it.
âIâm glad you liked it. Charles ate two bowls of it,â you explain, unable to suppress a smile. Logan hums, tilting his head to the side as he keeps devouring his meal. You take another sip of your coffee, blowing on it in a futile attempt to cool it down. âHe wants to talk to you.â
âHuh?â
âCharles. Heâhe asks to see you a lot,â you begin, carefully choosing your words. âI know itâs none of my business, but I think it would make him feel better if you spent more time with him.â
The sound of a distant train rumbles through the walls, amplifying the silence between you. Logan doesnât utter a word; instead, he puts down his fork, the clinking noise making you jump slightly, the intensity of his stare becoming overwhelming.
âYouâre right about one thingâwhat I do or donât do is none of your goddamn business.â
Just like that, the buildup dissolves in a matter of seconds. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, nodding absentmindedly. âIâm sorry,â you murmur, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. How stupid were you to think he might want to talk to you? âI justâI want to be of help.â
âJust take care of Charles. Thatâs all you gotta worry about, all Iâve ever asked you to do,â he barks, clenching his jaw, and you can tell he means each word.
When he talks to you in this tone, it makes you think more rationallyâit reminds you that you donât really know him, and yet you agreed to work for him in exchange for a roof over your head and food on your plate. Heâs not your friend, and heâs excellent at making that crystal clear every time you cross the line.
Logan pushes you away like youâre nothing, like youâre just another of the many burdens he has to deal with.
It should be enough to send you running to your room, but despite the knot tightening in your belly, you somehow remain rooted in place, your eyes sharp like daggers.
As another train echoes in the silence, you come to terms with the knowledge that one more question will drive him away.
And sometimes, you speak before you think, as you do now: âWhose blood is that on your shirt?â you ask, voice steady and cold. Perhaps itâs you who wants him to leave this time.
He shakes his head with offense, frustration crinkling his eyes. âI donât need this shit,â he groans, his gruff voice loud enough for you to hear it. He gets up from the table, placing his plate in the sink without much delicacy. At last, he heads to his room, slamming the door with a deafening thud that reverberates through the entire place.
Itâs not a crush, that voice deep inside you insists as youâre left alone in the kitchen. And itâs valid: a mere crush wouldn't cause this kind of pain, wouldnât make your chest feel this heavy and your limbs numb.
Whenever he leaves, he takes a part of you with him, never to be returned. By now, youâre certain heâs stolen all those missing pieces from you, and youâve got no idea how much longer you can endure before you shatter completely.
You seem to have won this battle, but what you end up losing is far greater than any fleeting gratification.
Loving Logan is maddening, to say the least.
To this day, you still recall every detail of the night that altered the course of your lifeâthe night you met Logan.
The memories are rather vivid in your mind, and you revisit that moment on nights like these, when you canât sleep and the past appears to be much more appealing than your present.
Pressing your cheek against the cold pillow, you let your eyelids drop, reconstructing the full scene behind your sealed eyes.
It was your third week working at that restaurant, and you were still getting used to its daily rhythm. Waitressing was working wonders for youâyou had a good memory, and people often gave you generous tips.
Everything was going well: you were the only waitress on shift, and your boss had left for a brief errand, promising he would be back soon.
During this lull, a group of men entered the restaurant, already drunk or highâprobably both. They sat at one of the empty tables, immediately calling for you.
One of them, a tall blonde, was the loudest. âCome here, baby.â He pointed his finger at you, gesturing for you to approach him. The nickname felt wrong rolling off his tongue, and as you obliged, he shoved a handful of bills into the front pocket of your apron. He clutched your waist, dragging you nearer. âIâm getting married tomorrow. Think you can do something special for me?â
His friends cheered him on, laughing and pounding their fists on the table. You managed to slip from his grasp and asked them what they wanted to order.
While they took their time deciding, you noticed a limousine parked in the distance, probably the vehicle that had brought these morons here. The driver rolled down his window, hanging his arm from the armrest.
Though you couldnât see his features, the interaction alone was enough to make you look away.
An hour went by, and the men refused to take off. Theyâd eaten, drunk, and dancedâand driven you crazy in the process. The rest of the customers had decided to leave once they realized the night was far from finishing for the noisy group of friends. You apologized, feeling incapable of doing anything to change the situation.
Your sanity felt threatened as you turned off the TV, ending the sixth round of karaoke, their shouts and hoots ringing in your ears.
âWeâre closing in ten minutes,â you informed them, starting to collect their dirty plates and glasses. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the blonde man standing right beside you, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through your skin. He attempted to graze your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back, keeping a safe distance between you. âHow do you plan to pay? Cash or credit?â
âHow about with a kiss, huh?â He inched forward, his face dangerously close to yours. Unaccustomed to being approached in this manner, you ducked your head, unsure of your next move. His breath reeked of beer and vodka, a horrendous combination that had you nearly gagging on the spot.
As he backed you against the counter, one of his large hands cradled your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. âI swear I can be very, very nice. You havenât given me the chance to show it yet.â
âHey, pal. You said one hour.â
The first time you heard his voiceâlow and husky, the kind that could send shivers down your spine.
Your eyes locked with Loganâs, your pleading gaze seemingly stirring something in him as he got a grip on the situation. His brows bumped together in a scowl, and you didnât miss how he limped as he made his way into the restaurant.
There was something about himâhow he moved, his stanceâthat felt strangely familiar.
âWeâre busy in here, chauffeur,â the blue-eyed man protested, slightly losing his balance while still holding your cheek.
Your rescuer squared off against him, their noses practically brushing. He worked his jaw, his half-lidded, tired eyes taking in the sight of you. âIâm no fortune-teller, but I donât think sheâs into you, bub.â
âCome again?â the blonde guy released you, much more concerned with defending his bruised pride. âWhatâs the matter, Grandpa? Is it past your bedtime?â
âI want you to pay me for the ride, and for waiting a fucking hour and a half for you and your friends,â the older man spat, jerking his thumb toward the limousine. âIâm not taking you back to the hotel. You might want to start lookingâ for another driver.â
The group of men closed in around him, their anger bubbling. âThatâs not cool, dude. We had a deal,â another voice snapped, but Logan couldnât seem to care less.
âWell, the dealâs off. And leave the girl alone, will you?â he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. âSo, whereâs my money?â
He couldnât have predicted it. One of the men behind him swung a plate, striking him in the nape and catching him off guard. Logan collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain. The others took the opportunity and began to pummel him, kicks and punches landing wherever they could.
You screamed at the top of your lungs, desperately trying to intervene. You grabbed at their clothes, digging your fingernails into every patch of exposed skin you could find, but they shoved you aside with brutal force. Your back slammed against the nearest wall, a jolt of sudden pain making you wince.
The blood in your veins turned to ice as you watched, paralyzed with fear that they might kill him. But thenâ
Three metallic claws emerged from his knuckles, and he used them to push himself upright. Despite the blood smeared across his nose and mouth, he managed to stand, his quickened breathing coming out in short puffs.
The men backed away in shock, leaving him alone amidst the chaos.Â
You stared at him, your hands trembling as recognition dawned: it was The Wolverine.
The familiarity, the sense of having seen him before, all made sense now. It all flooded back in a rushâthe comics, the news, the rumors.
âGet the hell outta my sight,â he growled, pressing his claws against the fabric of the blue-eyed manâs jacket, making him flinch.
You couldnât make out what you were feeling. It wasnât fear, but intrigue. Even as the group of men fled the restaurant, you couldnât tear your eyes away from him. At first, he avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes as he retracted his claws.
Once the immediate danger had passed, he slumped forward, groaning. You gently draped one of his arms around your shoulders and helped him into a nearby chair. His weight felt like a thousand bricks, but you accomplished to get him seated.
He rubbed a shaky hand over his graying beard, his face twisting in pain as you pressed a makeshift towel of napkins against his lower lip, where blood continued to flow.
Taking the towel from you, he continued tending to himself. You scanned his features, scrutinizing him.
âYou areâŚâ you began, the words feeling inadequate at the moment.
Logan nodded hesitantly, his silence confirming your suspicion. âYeah, thatâs me,â he tugged at his shirt collar, exposing some of his chest hair, fresh blood staining his work clothes. Your gaze fell there, and you quickly chided yourself.
The poor guy was bleeding, and you were checking him out. Jeez.
Kneeling by his side, you introduced yourself. âThank you for stepping up for me,â you said afterward, and he shook his head dismissively. âThey were a pain in the ass. I donât know how you even managed to drive them here.â
âMoneyâs money, darlinâ. Doesnât matter where it comes from, as long asââ he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and your concern deepened as you continued to spot more of his injuries. âIâll heal,â he reassured you, his expression softening in an attempt to calm your anxiety.
Your eyes pierced his with an intensity that seemed to unsettle him. Warmth crept into your cheeks as a question surfaced in your mind: âIs there anything I can do for you?â
âYou donât owe me anything, kid,â he replied, a hint of gruffness in his voice.
âBut I could help you,â you persisted, your voice betraying a touch of eagerness. Stifling a cough, you tried to mask your enthusiasm, and sighed. âAre you hungry? I could cook you something, or pour you a drink. Weâve got plenty of liquorââ
Logan interrupted you, placing the towel down on the table. âHave you ever taken care of an old person?âÂ
Tilting your head, you considered his question. âHow old?â
âNinety-somethinâ.â
You nodded, memories of the events from years ago surfacing. âI lived with my grandparents for most of my life. When they fell ill, I spent a lot of time with them. My mom had to work long hours, and Iâwell, the point is, I did take care of them,â you paused for an instant, his expression unreadable, though you perceived a slight relaxation in his posture, as if your answer had put him at ease. âI like being around old people. They have stories to tell,â you added, a genuine smile breaking through, âand Iâm a good listener.â
âThen I suppose there is somethinâ you can help me with.â
And so began a new chapter in your life.
The very next day, you were moving in with him and Charles. It took several weeks for the latter to warm up to you and get used to your presence.
Initially, he was hopeful that you might also be a mutant, but his disappointment was palpable when he discovered you lacked any supernatural gifts. Leaving that aside, he valued your company.
âThe shots mellow the seizures. The pills keep them from happening,â Logan had once explained, detailing the medications Charles needed. You recalled the psychic attack from a year ago and its consequences, but that wasnât a topic to be discussed with Logan, and you understood why.
âWhere do you get these?â you asked, examining the bottle of pills with a curious glance. âWithout a prescription, I mean.â
âOh, you donât wanna know.â
Soon, you got adapted to the whole package: his unpredictable temperament, his mood swings, and his nightmares. Logan Howlett was a puzzle box of surprises, one you could never quite unlock.
Fast forward to the present day, you realize it must be already late, because Loganâs heading to work. You stand on your tiptoes, peering out of your bedroom window. Your humid breath fogs the glass as his eyes find yours, and then he slips into the vehicle, blending into the shadows of the night.
The distant rumble of his limousine signals his departure, your forehead pressed against the glass, as if somehow that could take you with him.
There goes another piece of you.
You find yourself shaving Charles the moment worry takes over your senses.
Heâs retelling a familiar story: that one time Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm saved Rogue from Magneto.
On any other day, you wouldnât mind listening to his stories, despite having heard them countless times. This one in particular is your favorite.
But today, itâs hard to focus on it, even more when one of its main characters is missing in action.
Logan hasnât come back home yet.
Itâs been an entire day, and heâs usually back by morning to rest. Now, after having cooked dinner and helping Charles shower, youâve run out of distractions. Thereâs nothing left to occupy your thoughts, nothing to ease the building anxiety gnawing at you.
You texted him multiple timesâno answer. You even calledâalso nothing. Every time Charles asks if Loganâs at work or sleeping, the knot in your chest tightens. Thatâs when your mind starts to spiral, and youâre convinced youâll burst any moment.
After putting him to bed, you pace the kitchen, picking at your nails and biting the raw skin around them. The sting of pain is there, but itâs faint, not enough to overshadow the real fear clawing at your insides.
All these what-ifs that storm through your mind make you feel nauseous: what if heâs dead? What would you do with Charles? How would you provide for both of you without a salary?
Just as youâre about to dial his number again, Logan materializes out of thin air through the sliding door.
Heâs got a dark bruise under his right eye, and his once-white shirt is littered with bloodstains. You stare at himâheâs limping harder than usual, each of his movements slower.
Walking towards him, your hands cup his face. His skin feels rough beneath your fingers, and he lets out a grunt as you graze his split lip. âWhat happened?â
âThey were followinâ me. Had been doinâ so for a few days now,â he says, making no effort to pull away.
âDid you kill them?â you wonder out loud, still inspecting his injuries. The pad of your thumb hovers inches away from his bruised mouth.
Covering your hands with his, Logan ducks his head, closing his eyes for a brief second and swallowing thickly. âSomebody had to do it, sweetheart.â
You limit yourself to a nod, because you know thereâs nothing you can reproach him for. You were no stranger to the idea of him killing. It was an implicit truth between you.
âI thoughtâI was so scared, and Iââ your voice wavers, and you feel your eyes watering, the tears prickling at the corners. âI thought youââ
He doesnât let you finish, already knowing how it would end. âHey, look at me,â heâs the one touching you now, tilting your chin up. Your eyes keep flickering over the cuts and old scars you spot on his cheeks, his neck. Logan forces a pained smile, unable to hide his discomfort. âItâs fine, Iâm alright. Just a bit fucked up, but nothinâ you havenât seen before,â he jokes, trying to lighten the mood, and it works. You bite your lower lip, suppressing your grin. âI always come back, donât I?â
âBut you can barely stand,â you whisper, not sure why youâre speaking so softly. You make him turn his back to you, helping him shrug off his coat. As expected, remnants of dried blood decorate his shirt like highlights. âLet me help you.âÂ
âI donâtââ
âThere are cuts all over your back. And your chestâyouâre not healing properly,â you say, turning him to face you again. The look on his face suggests only one thing: heâs about to throw in the towel. âYou donât have to do everything on your own.â You think youâve never been this close before, his proximity both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. âPlease.â
He ends up giving in to your persuasion, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom. Logan sits down on the toilet, watching you gather supplies to clean his wounds. When you come back, heâs still staring at you, his eyelashes fluttering together each time he blinks.
Starting with his cheek, you press a damp towel to his skin, and he hisses. It takes everything in you not to flinch in sympathy.
âHowâs Charles?â he asks, probably trying to distract himself as you continue to clean his wounds, the towel darkening with his blood over time.Â
âHeâs doing great. Asked for you a lot, actually,â you take a look at his jaw, where one shallow cut is already starting to fade away thanks to his healing ability, something that never fails to amaze you.
Logan hums, tilting his head. âIâll check on him in the morning,â he murmurs, and you flash him a quick smile, finishing with his face. Heâs now free of dirt and blood, his brows furrowing as he pauses to collect his thoughts. âThe other day, when we talkedââ
You cut him off, turning to the sink as you rinse the towel, watching the water get red. âForget it.â
âNo, it wasnât okayâhow I acted,â he stands up from the toilet, and you feel his presence behind you, the alarm inside your head going off as the space between you shrinks. âI know you just want whatâs best for him. For us. Iâm sorry I was a jerk,â his voice comes out even huskier at this time of the night, sounding afraid of waking someone, even though itâs just the two of you here.
âApology accepted,â you swirl around to meet his gaze, only to find yourself nose-to-nose with him, and you lean back against the sink, your spine pressed into the cool surface.
Logan places his hands on both sides of the vanity, caging you with his body. Like the most beautiful tree, he stands tall in front of you, and you take a deep breath, getting drunk on his distinctive scent. âAre you⌠okay?â
You watch as he lowers his head, pursing his lips before muttering: âImma need you to do something more for me,â he says, almost pleading, and you canât avoid the amount of thoughts that rush into your mind.
Gone was your decency when you had to deal with him.
Thatâs when he looks up to find your eyes, his harsh expression evolving into a more vulnerable one. âHave you ever removed a bullet?â
If you thought listening to Loganâs nightmares was painful, nothing could have prepared you for the sounds he makes while you pull several bullets from his wounds.Â
He sits shirtless in front of you, grunting at each of your careful movements. As you remove one bullet lodged near his ribs, Logan practically yells, and you rest your cheek against his, desperate to ease his suffering.
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry. Almost done,â you whisper into his ear, hoping your words might bring him some relief. He lets his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder, trusting you enough to tend to his injuries, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.
It takes you half an hour to clean both his chest and back, but Logan doesnât complain. When youâre finished, he goes straight to his room, flopping onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. You see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing still labored.
You wish you could lie beside him, even just for a few minutes, but your last shred of self-control stops you from doing such a thing.
âGet some sleep,â you say leaning against the doorframe, your advice sounding more like a plea. He looks exhausted, dark circles sunken beneath his eyes.Â
Logan lets out a bitter laugh. âDo I look that bad?â
You roll your eyes at that, your fingers curling around the doorknob. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you catch something in his lookâa glimmer of something you struggle to put into words, but you decide not to look further into it. âGood night, Logan.â
âGood night, darlinââand thank you,â he murmurs, holding your gaze until the door shuts between you.
Then you sprint to your room, gently closing the door before biting back a smile, replaying the last hour in your mind. How close to you he had been, how comfortable he seemed around you.
You hadnât just crossed linesâyouâd broken them. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you werenât dreaming.
Somehow, your racing mind calms down, and you fall asleep, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting against your chest.
Youâre a light sleeper. The sound of something shattering wakes you, leaving you startled and disoriented.
Dawn is just breaking, the first rays of sunlight slipping through your window. You sit up, pricking up your ears as you scratch the back of your head, listening attentively.
Loganâs voice filters into your roomâhe lets out a string of profanities, and you stifle a giggle, throwing off your covers and putting on a sweatshirt that matches your pajamas.
Barefoot, you walk down the hall, stopping at the kitchenâs entrance. Logan is kneeling beside the table, gathering the shards of a broken mug. It seems like heâs just gotten out of the shower, tiny droplets of water trailing down his neck.
âThat was my favorite one,â you say in a low voice, teasing him. His back muscles flex under the material of his shirt, and he turns to look at you, his expression a silent apology. âI take it youâre not using your glasses?â
âIâm gonna stop you right there.â Rising to his feet, he grunts, digging his fingers into his lower back with a grimace. âTheyâre called readers for a reason.â
You decide to let him have that one, grabbing a new mug from the shelf and handing it to him. He accepts it, thanking you, and fills it with freshly brewed coffee.
âWas it a nightmare?â you ask, watching as he sinks into the couch, spreading his thighs apart with a sigh while you take a seat at the table instead.
Logan gives a nod, sipping some of his coffee. âAt least I slept for a few hours.âÂ
âAre you really going to stay up? Itâs pretty early.â You stretch your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you before you can hold it back.
âWouldnât be the first time.â
You hesitate for a moment, but then comes your question: âCan I join you?â You prop your elbows on your knees, any trace of sleepiness now gone with the wind.
He squints his eyes, his unrelenting stare boring into you. âFeel free.â
So here you are, studying him as he drinks his coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic. There are so many things you want to ask himâabout how heâs feeling, if his wounds have healedâbut it seems youâve entered a silent staring contest without even knowing it.
Not that you mind him looking at youâyou just want to know the reason why.
You snort, and he arches a brow. âDo I have something on my face?â You decide to ask him, straightening your back.
âI guess I canât help but wonder why you agreed to all of this,â he says, setting the mug down with a soft clink. By this, you understand heâs referring to being Charlesâ caregiver and leaving your old job behind. âI meanâyou could be doing better things with your life. Why would you choose to do this?â
âI told you before: I wanted to help you,â you shrug, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach tightens with nerves. You watch as Logan folds his arms, the muscles of his biceps becoming more visible. âPlus, I love being around Charles.
âI donât think people your age would be that interested in spending their days like this,â he says, and you toy with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around your finger.
âWell, good thing Iâm not like most people my age then.â
His silence hangs heavy in the air until he speaks again. âWhat do you mean by that?â
âYou know that feeling when life seems like a race? And you just have to keep up with certain things that everybody else is doing, or youâll be left behind?â You pause, the words falling more naturally than youâd expected.
Logan nods, making it seem like he understands what youâre trying to say. Whether he truly does it or not, you donât know.
âWhen my friends started going to parties, getting boyfriends⌠I couldnât. My family wouldnât let me. And even when I could, it felt like it wasnât really what I wanted.â
Inhaling sharply, you stop yourself. The conversation suddenly feels far too personal.
âYou never had a boyfriend?â He gets more comfortable on the couch, his voice gruff as he rubs his chin, waiting for a reply.
A familiar heat settles between your legs. âI went out with some guys, but it never led to anything serious,â you say, your cheeks getting warmer the more details you share with him. âI guess I wasnât the kind of girl they were looking for,â you add, not missing the way his lips twitch momentarily.
âHow could they not want you?â
âThey didnât think like you do.â
âThatâs because they were boys, not men,â he mutters, his gaze dropping to your hands before returning to your face. âDid they treat you right, those boys?â
Swallowing hard, you can hardly register the uncertainty in your own voice. âI mean⌠yes, I think they did. They were nice to me.â
There it isâthe faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. âNice doesnât mean good, though.â
You dig your nails onto the table, your pulse quickening, trying to hide how affected you are by his words. âWhat is it that you want to know?â
âCome sit with me, doll.â
Doll. Doll. Doll. Inside your chest, your heart gallops, your legs trembling as you get off the table, moving closer to him.
Feeling lighter with every step you take, you plop down beside him, and Logan sits straighter, his knees almost bumping into yours.
You canât bring yourself to look at himâthis is happening, just like in your filthiest dreams.
His hand slides up to yours, not applying any sort of pressure. He scrutinizes your skin, bringing your hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.
It tickles, it burnsâit ignites a fire inside you, one you know you canât ignore. A gasp attempts to escape you, but you suppress it.
âDid you let them touch you?â he whispers, attaching his mouth to your neck, brushing the sensitive spot where your jaw and ear meet.
This time, you moan, any possible rational thoughts turning into putty, melting with the way heâs touching you. âLogan,â you purr his name, begging for something, anything heâs willing to give you. Your thighs, once shoved together, spread of their own accord, and you hear him click his tongue.
âI asked you something.â His teeth graze your pulse point, forcing you to close your eyes.
âI didnât. They wanted to, but IâI wouldnât let them,â you answer, and as if heâs rewarding you, his fingers begin to tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the floor, admiring you.
âWhy?â
Goddamn.
âBecause I was waiting for the right guy,â you manage to get out, grasping his hand and positioning it on top of your right breast, encouraging him to go on with what he had started. His pupils widen further, and he squeezes your tit roughly, eliciting a moan from you. âI think Iâve found him.â
Logan scans your face, searching for any sign of repentance in your expression. âIâm going to hell for this,â he murmurs under his breath, his hard-on noticeable through his tented sweatpants. âLay down.â You obey his command, easing yourself onto the couch, and sinking into the cushions as he presses himself to your side.
He peppers your neck with kisses, playing with the waistband of your shorts. âIâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.â
You accept his offer, knowing that youâll probably regret it in a couple of hours. Right now, it doesnât matter. You need his electrifying touch, his fingers, hisâ
With a swift motion, your shorts are yanked down your legs, and his calloused hands part your thighs even wider. A damp spot on your underwear sells you out, and his thumb rubs gentle circles over that area, causing you to lift your hips.
âSo this is what you look like when you touch yourself, huh?â He edges his fingers closer to your clit, his breath tickling your ear, and he dips his tongue into your collarbone. âI hear you all the fuckinâ time. Youâre not as quiet as you think.â
It should embarrass you, the fact that he has listened to you pleasuring yourself. But in a moment like this, it only succeeds in fuelling your desire. âPlease. You said youâd make me feel good.â
âAnd I will, but youâre greedy as hell,â he says, his movements more deliberate now. You feel hot all over as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt.
Loganâs on the verge of drooling all over you, reaching for your folds and spreading your wetness. âMen arenât strong creatures, honey. Youâve got no idea how hard it is to hold back.â
âD-donât hold back,â you stutter, losing your composure when he returns to your clit, his fingers coated in your arousal while they flick your swollen bud. âOh, LoganâŚâ
âYou make the prettiest sounds,â he rasps, mouthing at your jaw, though as you try to kiss him, he slows his pace. âWhatâs wrong? Am I not giving you enough?â
âSorry. Iâm sorry,â you whisper, fascinated by how big his fingers look in comparison to your pussy. âIâm justââ
âNeedy, I know,â he finishes for you, and he picks up his merciless rhythm again. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and you canât help but arch your back every time he teases you, grazing your entrance with his middle finger. âDonât get ahead of yourself.â
You dig your nails into his arm, relishing the way his body responds to your touch. He grinds his cock against your hip, his teeth nipping at the column of your neck. âI want to come. Please, make me come,â you sob, letting out a shaky breath.
A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and Logan locks eyes with you after what feels like an eternity. âPlease, Lo.â
The nickname snaps something inside of him. His fingers circle your clit with a fervency you hadnât experienced before, your pleasure seemingly being his primary focus. âThe shit Iâd do for you.â
You warn him, telling him youâre closeâso so so closeâuntil the fire in your belly flares, and blood rushes to your ears. You collapse against him, holding his hand firmly against your core, hips jerking as you ride your orgasm.
The world narrows down to thisâthis moment, your most desired fantasy.
Logan holds you as you go limp in his arms, rubbing your clit ever so slightly, murmuring soft praises. âYâdid so good, sweetheart,â he whispers, planting a kiss on your temple, burying his nose in your hair. Youâre still out of breath, the pulsing between your parted legs persisting long after your release. âTold you you werenât quiet.â
A giggle bubbles up from your chest, his beard tickling you as he slides his hands up under your shirt, finding your nipples.
âIt was n-nice,â you tell him, your voice faltering the more he toys with your hardened peaks. Your skin heats up again, heart racing at the thought that he isnât done with you yet.
âJust nice?â One of his hands makes its way back into your pussy, ghosting his fingers over your hole, and he smirks when he feels you squirm. âYou surely know how to hurt a manâs pride.â
âI wasnâtâI didnât mean toââ You canât structure a proper sentence, not when heâs playing with you like this.
Logan rubs your arousal between his fingers, as though he wants you to see how slick you still are, even after coming. âAre you going to touch me again?â
He hums, feigning uncertainty. âWhat do you think, baby? Should I make you come with my fingers now?â
Itâs like a switch flips in your mind. He knows exactly how to make you beg and which buttons to push, using that power to his advantage. âYes, please. I want it,â you plead, intending to buck your hips into his touch, impatient for more.
âDo you fuck yourself with your fingers?âÂ
âSometimes, but I can never finishâOh my God.â He slips one finger inside you, causing you to curse, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench around the intrusion, your head falling back onto the cushions. âFuck me.â
âIn a minute.â He begins to thrust his finger in and out, gathering your juices every time he goes back to hammering that sweet spot in your interior. Soon, one finger becomes two, and he reduces you to a panting mess.
Tears threaten to swell in your eyes, and you whine as he involves his other hand in the matter, furiously rubbing your clit. âYour fingers feel much better than m-mine, Lo.â
âI can tell.â He curls them just right, and you push back against his thrusts, tilting your pelvis to meet him halfway. âThere you go. Take what you need, sweetheart. Iâm right here, Iâve got you.â
Everything feels frenzied, fast, the way your inner walls spam and contract around his fingers as you chase your second climax.
Once you come down from your high, your blurred vision catches him tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and he fists himself, stroking his length angrily.
You watch as some pre-cum dribbles from the head, and you lean forward, watching it closely.
âYou look goddamn beautiful when you come, darlinâ,â he murmurs through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tight. Hovering over you, he rucks your shirt up until he can see your tits from above. He alternates between your breasts, squeezing them while he continues to stroke his girth. âWant to see these all dirty.â
Logan truly loses it when your hand reaches out to him, tracing a bulging vein near the head of his cock. You meet his lustful gaze, batting your lashes, and then you feel his come splashing against your bare chest, a choked moan escaping Loganâs throat, spurts of his hot seed landing on your skin.
âFuckinâ hell⌠fuck,â he grunts, still tugging at his cock, enamored with the masterpiece heâs created. When itâs finally over, he lies beside you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, and he nuzzles further into your touch with a groan. âIâm too old for this.â
Minutes pass as both of you seem to grasp the gravity of what has just happened. Eventually, Logan rises to his feet, disappearing for a brief moment before coming back with a towel to wipe his come off your stomach and chest.
Heâs gentle with you, his gaze trained on his task until his eyes flick up to meet yours.Â
âDonât look at me like that,â he says, pulling your shorts back up.
âLike what?âÂ
âLike you want to see right through me.â He adjusts your shirt to cover your body again, but the towel remains in his hand, a reminder of the previous events.
Iâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.
You donât have to talk about it. You definitely donât.Â
Two days later, heâs the one who comes looking for you.
Youâre nearly asleep when he knocks on your door. âCome in,â you mumble, a bit of drool having dampened your pillow. You dry your mouth with the back of your hand, your back turned to the door.
He steps into your room cautiously, as if navigating a minefield. The mattress dips under his weight. âWere you sleeping?â he asks, caressing your leg over the covers.Â
You shift onto your back, your body responding before your mind. Thereâs no blood on his clothesâthat makes you feel a bit better, and you shake your head.
âGood.â He looms closer, fumbling with his belt. His thumb applies little pressure to your lower lip, and your mouth parts to let him in, salivating.
This is just like Pavlovâs dog experimentâexcept that Logan isnât an experimenter, and you arenât a dog.
Yet, when he approaches you like this, you canât help but respond, settling into a routine where you both take take take from each other.
Logan doesnât fuck you, even when you beg him to. He gets you off with his fingers, his thigh, his mouthâbut his cock remains out of the equation.Â
âJust the tip,â you plead, voice laced with pure need, when heâs got his face nestled between your legs.Â
As he stops eating you out, his beard shiny with your arousal, heâs still got that angry look on his face. Your cries donât get to him.
âThat lieâs older than me.â He slips his fingers back inside you, aiming to make you drop the subject. âCome on, baby. Gotta get ready for work, but you need to come first.â
Nor does he stay the night after telling you youâre the most gorgeous girl heâs ever seen in his life. Just when you think heâs fallen asleep, his legs intertwined with yours and one of his large hands under your head, you drift off.
By the time morning comes, heâs gone. You just know that when night falls, heâll be back for more, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
Despite all that, Logan wonât kiss you. He keeps his promise, and you hate how determined he is.Â
âNot even once?â you ask him one night while going over the scars on his back. Youâre in his bed this time, and he has his nose buried in his pillow, moments away from dozing off.Â
âNo,â he answers, squirming slightly under your touch. âIâm tired. Stop doing that.â
âHow did you get this one?â You trace one scar thatâs close to his shoulder, resting your chin just inches from it.
He turns his face to see your eyes. âWell, I was doing Pilates, and IâHey!â He laughs when you pinch the skin near his ribs, tickling him. âI donât even remember. Mustâve got it a long time ago.â
âDid it hurt?â Itâs a dumb question, but he doesnât mention it.
His index finger grazes your cheek, and he chuckles at the way your eyelids flutter. âIn the past, they all did. But not anymore,â he replies, though you wish you could believe him.
You know heâs in pain most days. That when he goes down on you, and heâs on his knees for too long, he has trouble standing up without cursing. That no amount of alcohol, or his healing ability, helps him with it.
You kiss each of his scars before curling against his side, brushing your nose against his. âAnd now?â Your eyes fall to his lips, silently hoping heâll say Yes.
Instead, he sighs. âI think we should go to sleep.â
So despite the lack of kisses, the miscommunication, and the fact that he wonât fuck you even though you knowâyou feelâhe wants to, things are good between you.
Charles notices it, openly expressing his recent realization. âHe looks happier, doesnât he?â he asks says after winning two games of chess in a row, startling you.Â
âLogan, you mean?â
âYes, my dear.â
You glance down at the board, fidgeting with the pieces. âI guess so.â
âYou guess so?â he parrots your previous words, raising an eyebrow in doubt. âLook at me,â he says, and as you do it, he points a shaky finger toward your neck. âI assume mosquitos have taken a liking to you.â
Heat rises to your cheeks, your hand flying up to cover the hickey you had completely forgotten about in the first place. âCharles, Iâmââ
âAre you happy?â he interrupts you, and you nod, because you are.Â
A nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind. You donât know if youâre asking for too much, but it still feels like somethingâs missing.
One morning, you accidentally overhear a conversation between them. The door of the tank is ajar, and right before you step inside, you recognize Loganâs voice in the distance.
âCharles, Iâm fine, alright? I donât need your advice.â
Thereâs a pause before Charles responds. âYou know, Logan⌠this is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.â
Logan doesnât say anything in response to that. And if he does, you donât stick around long enough find out, because youâre already turning on your heel.
A poet once said: âBlowjobs are fucking amazing.â
Actually, you might be wrong. Those may not have been a poetâs words, but your best friend Keiraâs from high school.
You remember the sleepovers at her placeâshe had a boyfriend at the time, a boy she had met at a party you hadnât been invited to.Â
âWelcome to blowjobs 101,â she had declared one night, holding a hairbrush like a microphone. âDonât worry, sweetie. Iâll tell you everything you need to know when the moment comes.â
Luckily, many years later, that moment arrived.
Just ten minutes ago, you were cooking dinner, sniffling back tears while chopping onions, so lost in thought that you didnât realize Logan was already home.
He tossed his keys onto the table, hugging you from behind seconds later. You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, his lips planting soft kisses wherever they could.
âHow was work?â you dropped the knife, wiping your tears as you turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you in tighter by the waist, giving your ass a firm squeeze.
âHell, as usual,â he looked into your eyes, finding them all glossy. âYou miss me so much you started crying?â
Of course, you didnât talk about itâbut words arenât the only ones who can convey meaning.
Youâre not sure how, but one thing led to another, and now youâre on your knees, Loganâs cock filling your mouth. Your lips, swollen and red, suck hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back, and his hips jerk deeper into your throat. âThatâs it, fuck. Doinâ so good.â
Your movements are far from graceful. As a matter of fact, itâs all too sloppy and desperate. Saliva drips down your chin, some of it coating his balls, and you fondle them at the same time you bob your head.
Keiraâs advice plays on repeat in your mind, and you pull out every trick you know to make Logan roll his eyes.
So far, you think youâre doing pretty great, judging by the way heâs gripping the back of your head.
âH-how is this your first time suckinâ cock?â he slurs, more to himself, his voice strangled as you make eye contact with him. He brushes your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of him disappearing into your wet mouth. âGod, I fuckinâ love you.â
Taken aback by his sudden confession. you involuntarily gag around him. He pulls you off his cock, not even sparing you a glance, tucking himself back into his briefs. âWait, Loganââ
âNot now,â he mutters abruptly, withdrawing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
But still, he doesnât want to talk about it.
How bad is it to tell somebody you love them and then avoid them?
Yeah, itâs absolutely terrible, right? Tell that to the idiot himselfâLogan Howlett.
Itâs been over a week, and no matter how many times you press him for an explanation, he keeps dodging it.
Things go back to how they were before you two started fooling around, and Charlesâ questions donât take long to come: âI thought you two were getting somewhere.â
âMe too,â you admit, your voice quieter as you try to appear indifferent.
You have no answer for him. Not that you donât want to discuss your relationship problemsâitâs just that you donât know what went wrong.
When evading you isnât enough, he works longer hours, which only adds to how little you see him. At least he lets you know if heâs going to be late, sparing you from waiting up.
But apart from that, your interactions have dwindled to nothing, and itâs eating you alive.
Youâre madly in love with him. You thought you knew that already, but now that heâs distant, the depth of your feelings has become clearer than ever.
Heâs everywhere you go, just not physicallyâhe has conquered your mind.
And it should be funny, loving someone who used to be no more than a myth for you. Though Logan is realâmaybe too real for your own goodâand he hasnât been the mutant you once read about for quite some time.
This morning, heâs having breakfast at the table when you walk into the kitchen. You hold your breath as your shoulders brush for a microsecond, his gaze following your steps.
Youâre no longer accustomed to sharing the same space with him, so it makes sense that you stay as far away as possible.
After an awkward silence, he stands up and mutters something about checking on Charles and giving him his meds, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Itâs infuriating, how collected he seems. Why isnât he miserable like you? Doesnât he miss you? Didnât you two have something⌠special?
Iâm not gonna kiss you, but Iâll make you feel good. Just this time, âkay? And we donât talk about it.
The shit Iâd for you.
God, I fuckinâ love you.
Not now.
The memory of his words lingers, seared into your unconscious, though the sound of his phone jolts you out of your thoughts.
Itâs ringing beside the coffee machine, and you try to ignore it, determined to be the bigger person.
But after five minutes of the relentless ringtone echoing in the empty kitchen, youâve had enough.
Unknown callerâinteresting. What could he possibly be hiding?
Charles, you better keep that asshole busy, you think to yourself, swiping right to answer the call.
Before you can say anything, a womanâs voice fills the line.
âJames! Thank God. Itâs Gillian. You didnât reply to any of my texts, and I was starting to get worried,â she lets out a giggle, the sound grating against your nerves.
As your grip on the phone tightens, your knuckles start to go white.
âLook, I know you said you werenât available, but I havenât been able to stop thinking about you since that ride. I didnât see any ring on your finger, so what do you say, huh? Will you let me take you out?â
Red. Youâre seeing red.
âJames? Hello? Cat got your tongue?â
At last, you clear your throat. âHey,â you greet her, pacing around the kitchen. âIâm deeply sorry, but James canât talk right now.â
âExcuse me?â she snaps, her high-pitched voice echoing through the speakers, and you pull the device away from your ear. âThis is Jamesâ number. Who the fuck are you?â
âOh, Iâll tell you who the fuck I am, you intolerant piece ofââ
Before you can finish, the phone is yanked out of your hand, the call hastily ending.
There is no use in playing dumb, not when Loganâs standing right in front of you, observing you like youâre a child whoâs made a severe mistake.
His deep, brown eyes pierce your soul, shattering any chance you had of coming up with an excuse.
âWhat where you doing with my phone?â Itâs the first thing he asks you, his voice still steady, the calm before the storm.
Perhaps youâre not as mature as you thought you wereâyour forehead furrows, unwilling to back down, and you fall silent. He takes a step forward, as if he canât believe your attitude. âThink I asked you somethinâ. Why did you answer?â
âGillian sounds like a lovely lady. Tell her I said âHiâ the next time you see her,â you croak, attempting to walk past him, but he doesnât budge, his solid frame blocking your path. You collide with his chest, and it feels like trying to move a brick wall without success.
âWeâre talking. You canât just leave.â
The nerve of this man.
âYou canât be serious,â you retort, staring at him, wishing the emotion in your tone could capture even a fraction of what youâre truly feeling. âWerenât you the one who walked away first? After telling me you loved me?â
You search for any sign of the man who once held you close, but he feels miles away, hidden under all these layers that smell like cheap whiskey and gasoline. âYou didnât mean it.â
âI did. I meant every word,â he growls, his fists clenching at his sides, and you donât miss the exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles that expose the fragile façade of control heâs so desperate to maintain. âGoddamit! Youâre doing that thing again!â
âWhat thing?â you exclaim, your mouth hanging open in frustration. âWhat the fuck are you talking about? Iâm not doing anything.â
âYes, you are! Youâre trying to see through me, like you can read my mind.â
âWell, sorry to disappoint, but Iâm not a fucking mutant. I just have eyes, Logan.â You throw your arms up, exasperated. âPeople actually look at each other when they have a conversation, in case you havenât noticed.â
âYouâre testing my patience,â he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.
âAnd you are testing mine.â You rest your back against the table, raising your chin. âSo, who is she?â
Logan drops his shoulders, slamming his eyes shut. âI drove her once, last week. It was a long ride and she⌠wouldnât stop talking. Didnât shut up for a single second. She hit on me, but I told her Iâm off the market.â
âWhy? âCause she talked too much?â
âNo. Because I love you,â he says, pure awe transforming his expression, like he doesnât believe he has said it out loud. âI donât know when I started feeling like this, or if Iâve always felt it, butâI do. I love you.â
Oh.
You had heard those words slip through his lips before, but now they sound different. It might be that keeping him at arm's length has felt like death by a thousand cuts, or perhaps itâs the realization that this is the first time someoneâs declaring their love for you.
Fuck. He loves you. As in, heâs in love with you?
âThen why do you keep running?â You edge closer to him, your eyes trained on his. âIâm done with the chase, Logan. Itâs tiringâI am tired. Iâve been sleeping like shit, trying to figure out whatââ
His arms surround your body, cutting you off and pulling you close. The hammering of his heart matches yours, and you return the hug, nuzzling your nose against his neck.
You fear that this might be all youâve ever needed, feeling as if the pieces he took from you in the past are finally falling back into place.
Logan holds you as if in a past life he lost you, but now, heâs decided to never let you go.
This profound sense of completeness, of being where youâre meant to be, makes you realize youâve found home in the warmth of his embrace.
âIâm sorry. This⌠this scares me, alright?â he murmurs next to your ear, raking his fingers through your hair. âYou make me feel things I didnât think I could feel anymore. Thatâs what Iâm running fromâthe part of me I thought was gone. But you⌠you brought it back.â
You feel a deep urge to curl up and cry, wondering why on earth he would ever think he was unworthy of being cared for. âLogan, IâŚâ
âI sound pathetic, I know. It sounded way better in my head.â
âDonât you dare say that.â You retreat a bit, looking him in the eye. He stares down at you with a tenderness youâve never seen before. âItâs not pathetic to voice how you feel. I want to know it all, want to know everything about you.â
âEverything?â
âYes, everything. But I need you to promise me that you wonât run away anymore. I know itâs difficult, but itâs not fair to any of us.â
His eyes peer directly into yours, and he gives a nod. âI promise to do my best.â He presses your foreheads together, and thatâs when his mouth turns into a grin. âYouâre not going to say it back?â he teases, gripping your waist. âCome on, I said it first. Twice, for the record.â
Lifting your shoulders in a half-shrug, you find it hard to conceal your smile. âI may need a bit more convincing.â
Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
Before you know it, his lips are on yours, almost making you lose your balance. You whimper into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck as his tongue wastes no time in finding yours, stroking it sensually.
The wait had been definitely worth itâyouâd do everything all over again if it meant having him kiss you like this at the end of the day.
He tilts your face so that he can deepen the kiss, and a whine gets caught in your throat when his fingers pull gently at the hair at your nape, nibbling at your bottom lip.Â
âI love you, too. Very much, to be honest,â you blurt out against his mouth, pleased with the way he laughs at your reaction, squeezing your hips. âBut I still have some ideas in mind.â
âIâm all ears.â
Here goes nothing. âFuck me like Iâve been asking you to.â You cup his cheek, guiding his lips into yours one more time. âPlease,â you mewl, standing on your tiptoes. âWant you to be my first.â
If it were up to you, you wouldâve begged him to take you right there on the kitchen floor. But Logan, ever the gentleman, insists on moving things to his room.
Each of his movements is slow, igniting your skin with a burning heat, leaving his name imprinted where his teeth sink into your soft flesh.
Youâre left in nothing but your underwear by the time he murmurs: âLet me take my time with you.â He trails his lips down your chest, your stomach, until heâs planting several kisses along your ankle. âI donât know how I got so lucky, baby. Look at you.â
Under his gaze, you feel shy, your eyes snapping to the ceiling instead. âShut up,â you say, tugging at his shirt to undress him, your fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen before you pull him into a bruising kiss, sucking on his tongue.
He strips out of his black slacks and hovers over you, his clothed cock grinding against your throbbing core, eliciting a moan from both of you. âSo goddamn beautiful. Canât believe youâre mine.â His tip grazes your entrance through the fabric, making your toes curl in ectasy. âIâm gonna make you feel good, I swear.â
At first, heâs extremely careful, making sure to stretch you out with his fingers while you stroke him, pumping your fist to match his rhythm. âKeep that up and thisâll be over sooner than expected,â he warns, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.
It doesnât happen like it does in the books or movies. No foreplay couldâve prepared you for the moment he enters you.
You move clumsily beneath him, your nose bumping into his forehead as he eases the first inch of his length inside.
For a moment, youâre not certain which hurts most: the dull ache in your nose or the way heâs splitting you open.Â
Logan freezes, his eyes wide in concern. âShit. Iâm sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?â His hand cradles your face as he props himself up on one forearm, pushing your hair back while you adjust to his size. You laugh despite the sting, and he wipes away your tears with his thumb. âYouâre laughinâ?â
âIâm just happy,â you manage to get through the lump in your throat, raking your nails down his back, feeling the rough texture of the scars beneath your fingers. âI love you. Since that day at the bar, Iââ you pause for a second, gasping at the sudden wave of pleasure when he twitches inside you. âIâll always l-love you. Forever.â
As you wrap your legs around his waist and tell him youâre ready, something inside him shifts.
He feels like a madman, his eyes fixed on your face the whole time, searching for any hint of discomfort, though he occasionally glances down at the place where your bodies meet and become one, entranced by the sight of you taking him in, slick coating his length.Â
Your heels dig into his lower back, pulling him back to the presentâback to you, with your pretty tits bouncing each time he pistols his hips, the intensity of his thrusts increasing.
âAll those times you took care of me, when youâFuck,â he groans, nipping at your jaw to regain some of his composure, his humid breath dampening your skin. Your scent drives him wild, and he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. âYou made me feel loved when no one else did. My girl, love you so f-fucking much.â
His pace is nothing more than a voiceless testament to everything he feels but canât find words to express.
With each minute that passes, your dripping cunt grips him tighter and tighter, his thrusts losing finesse. He needs you to come firstâwhy does he feel like a virgin?
When you tell him youâre close, the world around him turns into a musical. You cling to the sheets, the mattress creaking noisily as he clutches the headboard, determined to find that angle that will push you over the edge.
âThatâs it, sing for me,â Logan mutters from above, hypnotized by the crease forming between your brows. âCome on, let go.â
Time seems to slow down as your muscles tense and you clamp around him, your body sagging against him. His name spills from your lips in breathy whimpers, like an endless prayer, and your mouth engulfs his, tongues and teeth clashing in a fevered kiss.
Soon after that, he surrenders to the coiling tension deep within him, pulling out just in time to stroke himself once, twice, before emptying his hot load across your mound.
You gently thumb the head of his cock, coaxing out every last drop of his hot seed. Heâs panting as he comes down from his high, his brain foggy and blissfully blank for a while.Â
Logan loses track of how many times he tells you he loves youâhe does it when he pulls you into his chest, when his lips press against your temple, and when you crack that smile, the one that resembles the very purpose of his existence.
âSo this is what it feels like.â His voice sounds low like a murmur near your ear, and you stir, half-asleep.
âHmm?â
âNothing, baby. Just thinkinâ aloud.â
You donât have to talk about it, at least not now. Deep down, he knows that whatever thoughts run through his mind will somehow find their way into yours.
This is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.
And God, is he feeling it.
dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x you#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#james howlett#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine smut#the wolverine#wolverine x men#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#logan wolverine#x men wolverine#smut#fanfiction#fluff#angst#old man logan#fic: never is a promise#x men movies#logan james howlett
7K notes
¡
View notes
Text
â.Ë áĄŁđŠ â â early morning moments with skz !
âş đš . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive
âş đš . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)
đৠchan đŕ§
Youâve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriendâs, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didnât mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.
âYou fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.â You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before heâs interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. âSorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.â
Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what youâre talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie heâs been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.
The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. âDamn, I was out like a light.â
You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing itâs time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.
Heâs still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and youâre still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.
đৠminho đŕ§
âMinho.â You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
He doesnât respond so, you try again. âMinho!â this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.
âMinho, are you awake yet?â You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. âNo.â
âOh, okay.â you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. âSorry.â you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.
âLiar!â Youâre nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldnât help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.
He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.
đৠchangbin đŕ§
âBinnie.â Youâre gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. âMy love, I know youâre awake.â
âThen you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.â He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.
âI had a good cause, I promise.â When he doesnât budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesnât spill over. âI made breakfast.â
Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobodyâs ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?
âI love you.â The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.
Love is the greatest gift heâs ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes youâll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that youâll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when youâre both old and grey, impaired taste and all.
đৠhyunjin đŕ§
The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You wonât be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.
Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.
Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, youâre awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjinâs eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriendâs other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest.Â
âGood morning, love.â He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.
He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, youâre not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.
âYour morning voice is so hot.â Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. âWhat?â
You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. âTell me more, baby. What did Chan do?â âHe wasnât even there!â See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldnât take the hint and finally kiss you again?
đৠjisung đŕ§
âI had a dream about you.â Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. âWas I hot?â âYou cheated on me.â
He gasps dramatically but doesnât move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. âAsshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.âÂ
You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how heâs been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.
âYou were very mean, actually.â Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.
âIâm sorry, baby.â He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. âPlease let me make it up for you.â
Thatâs what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each otherâs bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and youâre both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.
đৠfelix đŕ§
You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.
So, youâre more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.
âBaby,â his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, âwake up, angel.â
You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.
When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what youâre about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.
Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. âKiss me!â Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. âNot until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.â Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. âI have a surprise!â
Now why didnât he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesnât move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features. Â
đৠseungmin đŕ§
Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone.Â
Thatâs why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didnât hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.
âYour feet are cold.â But Seungmin doesnât respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldnât. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since youâve known him, Seungmin didnât smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.
It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.
You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.
As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.
đৠjeongin đŕ§
âDid you know you talk in your sleep?â You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.
Jeongin laughs, incredulous. âNo way! Iâve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.â He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.
âIâm not complaining.â Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. âI actually think itâs kind of endearing.â
He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didnât want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like heâd ever admit it out loud.
âWhat did I say?â He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so youâre face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. âI donât know, I donât speak gibberish.â
He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. âYou also snore.â âI do not!âÂ
#stray kids#skz#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
âwhen they get jealousâ | hq
đđđđ ŕżđđđ
content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else
warnings: disgustingly cute, ushijima x reader + oikawa x reader are established relationships, fem!reader
characters: kageyama, oikawa, ushijima
đ đ đ đ đ
Tobio Kageyama
'his pettiness would slip out unintentionally'
You and Kageyama often helped each other with studying, so it wasnât surprising to find the two of you in a coffee shop with notebooks laid out on the wooden table. Kageyama was focused on his work, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes in his notebook. You had given him your neat and organized notes to copy down since the ones he took were the complete opposite.
He was having a good time until this guy, claiming to know you, approached the table. While Kageyama isn't the most socially astute, he couldn't miss the way this guyâs hand occasionally grazed yours or the overly familiar tone in his voice. Every laugh and lingering touch made Kageyama's jaw tighter, his pen digging harder into the paper.
You clearly looked uncomfortable with his pursuits, attempting to let the guy down nicely with an awkward laugh here and there.
âSo, I was thinking we should hang out sometimeââ The manâs flirtatious invitation was abruptly cut off by a loud, deliberate slurping noise coming from across the table.
You turned to see Kageyama, still focused on his work, but now obnoxiously trying to suck up the last remnants of his coffee from the glass cup. The sound was grating, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from nearby customers.
Each time the guy tried to speak again, the slurping noise grew louder and more exaggerated, making the man visibly frustrated.
âDo you have a problem, man?â he angrily spat, now glaring at the nonchalant guy across from you.
Kageyama took his time to calmly put down his empty glass, his fingers lingering on the rim momentarily before he shifted his gaze to the intruder. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, now burned with an unmistakable, cold irritation.
âI donât know, do you?â Kageyamaâs voice was flat and unyielding, his stare piercing through the man.
You could feel the tension in the air, the intensity of his harsh and cold eyes making the man shift uncomfortably.
âBecause she hasnât said yes to a single thing youâve said since you got here,â Kageyama continued, his tone blunt and unforgiving. âSo I suggest you leave.â
The man hesitated, clearly taken aback by Kageyamaâs directness and the unspoken threat in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and walked away, mumbling something under his breath.
Once the guy was out of earshot, you turned back to Kageyama, who was already picking up his pen and resuming his work as if nothing had happened. A small, amused smile tugged at your lips.
âYou didnât have to do that, you know,â you said softly, a hint of gratitude in your voice.
Kageyama glanced up, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. âI didnât like how he was talking to you. It made me uncomfortable.â
You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. âThanks, Tobio. I seriously mean it.â
A faint blush tinted his cheeks as he nodded in response, trying to focus back on his notes.
But, he simply couldn't as his attention kept drifting back to you.
đźđđ đ đ đ đ đđź
Tooru Oikawa
'he'd try to one-up the person with blatant rudeness'
Oikawa loves spending time with you. When a festival was happening in your hometown, it was a given that heâd go with you. The vibrant atmosphere, the colorful stalls, and the joyful crowd made it a perfect date. He left you alone for a split second to buy some takoyaki.
When he returned, he saw you stopped in the middle of the crowd, awkwardly laughing with some other guy. His smile faltered slightly, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. He playfully nudged your shoulder, interjecting himself into the conversation and cutting off whatever unfunny joke the guy was telling you.
âHey, sorry for the wait,â Oikawa said, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His smile was charming as always, but his eyes held a sharp glint as he did a quick look up and down at the guy.
âWow! Y/N, I didnât know you snagged a boyfriend while you were away!â the guy laughed with a strain.
Oikawa didnât miss the way this guyâs gaze shifted slightly, revealing a brief flicker of distaste towards him. His own smile turned to a sneer at the sight of it.
âHuh, this little prick,â Oikawa thought, recognizing him as the classmate who had a crush on you in high school. That memory only fueled his irritation, making him want to pull you away from this conversation even more.
As each second passed, the more Oikawa showed how much he didn't like this guy. âWow, it sounds like you had a great time in high school. But Iâm sure nothing beats the fun we have now, right, love?â He directed an innocent smile at you, but you could feel the air thickening with intensity.
Turning back to the guy, Oikawa continued, âItâs so cute how you still remember those high school days. I guess some people never move on from their glory years.â
Your eyes widen at the jab and side-eye your smiley, 'I didn't do anything wrong' boyfriend next to you. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or pinch him for making this even more awkward than it is.
You curtly said goodbye to your classmate, not wanting to drag this out any longer. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed Oikawaâs hand and dragged him away.
Oikawa's disdain towards your friend was clear, his expression contorted with thinly veiled annoyance. He stuck out his tongue in a childish display of disapproval, causing the classmate to stand there, taken aback, and scoff in response.
As you both silently walked beside each other, Oikawaâs demeanor softened, realizing he might've overdone it a tad with this one. âHey, I didnât mean to upset you,â he said, his voice gentle and sincere. He squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic look.
âNo, I'm sorry,â you sighed, glancing up at him. âI should've told him I had to go right when he approached me and look for you. Instead, we were put into an awkward situation."
Oikawa frowned slightly. "You donât have to apologize. I justâI didnât like the way he was looking at you."
You stopped and turned to face him, placing your hands on your hips. "Tooru, you need to stop being so childish. Sticking your tongue out? Really?"
His eyes widened in surprise. "You saw that?"
You raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and exasperation on your face. "Of course I saw that. You think I wouldn't notice?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay, I admit that might've been a bit much."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "A bit much? Try a lot. You canât keep doing that."
His pout returned. "But he wasâ"
"No buts," you interrupted, playfully poking his chest. "I can handle myself, alright? And you definitely don't have to worry about any other guy. You're the only one I want."
His eyes sparkled at your reassurance, his smile widening. "You know, there's no one else I'd rather have but you~" he playfully coos back, earning a soft slap to the chest from you.
đźđđ đ đ đ đ đđź
Wakatoshi Ushijima
'he barely gets jealous, but when he does, his reserved demeanor slips with subtle signals'
You frequently showed up to Ushijimaâs practices to support him, admiring his dedication and skill. Today was no different, but what you didnât know was that there was a new player on the team. He was quite charming and flirtatious, so when he saw you, he couldnât help but make a move.
âHey sweetheart, are you lost?â the new player approached you, his hair matted with sweat and a cocky grin on his face.
âOh no. Iâm Y/N, Ushijimaâsââ you started to explain, but he cut you off.
âFan?â he guessed, leaning closer.
âUm, noââ you tried again.
âSister?â he interrupted, his eyes scanning you with obvious interest.
Before you could speak again, a deep, familiar voice cut through the conversation, âSheâs my girlfriend.â
Ushijimaâs imposing presence seemed to cast a shadow over the new player as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light yet protective. You felt a slightly sweaty chest lightly press against your back, sending a shiver up your spine. His olive eyes, usually calm and composed, held a steely intensity as he assessed the situation.
âIs everything alright, Y/N?â Ushijima asked, his voice steady but carrying an underlying edge.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his presence. âYes, everythingâs fine.â
The new player, clearly taken aback, tried to recover his composure. âI didnât know, man. Just thought she was lost or something.â
Ushijimaâs gaze didnât waver, and his grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. âSheâs here to support me, as always. Iâd appreciate it if you respected that.â
The new player nodded, mumbling a quick apology before retreating to the court. As he walked away, you could feel the tension slowly dissipate from Ushijimaâs body, but his eyes remained on the player for a moment longer, his gaze eyeing him like a hawk. Ushijima never shows his emotions normally, but seeing you flustered and a bit uncomfortable by someone else had his jaw set tighter than usual.
Turning back to you, Ushijimaâs expression turned non-rigid once more. âIâm sorry you had to deal with that.â The lines of tension in his face smoothed once he met your gaze.
You smiled up at him, the warmth of your hand over his on your shoulder conveying a silent understanding. You plant a light peck on his hand, a gentle affirmation of your gratitude. âItâs okay, Toshi," you whispered softly, your voice carrying a soothing tone. "You should go back to practice."
He nodded, his lips curling into a rare, small smile. âJust let me know if anyone bothers you.â
You leaned into him, feeling the solid reassurance of his presence. âI will. Thank you.â
As the practice continued, he kept a close eye on the new player, making sure there were no further incidents.
đźđđ đ đ đ đ đđź
want more?
⤡ masterlist.
#đźâhaikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#hq#hq x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu fluff#kageyama fluff#hq kageyama#kageyama x reader#kageyama tobio#haikyuu kageyama#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama x you#kageyama drabble#kageyama tobio x you#oikawa x you#oikawa tooru#oikawa x reader#haikyuu oikawa#hq oikawa#oikawa fluff#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#ushijima fluff#haikyuu ushijima#hq ushijima#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
we are not children anymore, honey.
warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.
where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.
1,8k words
You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.
You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.
You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.
At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.
Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.
When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.
At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.
That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.
The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.
"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.
"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.
"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.
"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."
Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.
"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"
"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."
You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.
He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.
"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.
You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.
"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.
"Hmm?"
"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"
"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.
If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.
He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.
"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.
"You could say that."
You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.
"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.
"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.
"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.
His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.
"Stop that shit."
A laugh escaped through your nostrils.
"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."
He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.
"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."
You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.
"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."
"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.
"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.
"Yes. I obviously know that."
He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.
His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.
"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."
"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.
"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."
Forming words seemed harder than ever.
"Ah."
"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"
You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.
"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."
"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.
He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"
You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.
Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.
"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.
You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.
"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."
You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.
Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.
I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
i'll keep you warm ŕ§â Ë・â
pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader
summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.
cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k
a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!
The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling placeâbut you knew you were here for a reason.
And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.
You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since youâd left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.
âYouâre still up,â she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.
âCouldnât sleep.â You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing thatâalways looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. âIt looks pretty bad out there.â
âAwful,â Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. âScoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. Iâm hoping itâll get us somewhere, at least.â
âWeâll find him,â you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. âWeâve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, âkay?â
She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. âYeah,â she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.
You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. âWhat?â
âJust⌠glad youâre here.â Abbyâs thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. âAre you cold? Iâll get the fire going.â
âThatâs okay, you donât have toââ you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?
Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress youâd stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.
Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasnât something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at herâwhich was, needless to say, often.
Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourselfâor, at the very least, ease it for awhile.
Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. âBetter now?â
You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. âMuch better. Thank you,â you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.
âI should be the one asking you if you need anything. Youâve had a long day.â You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. âAre you hungry? Iâll go heat something up for you.â
âIâm fine. I had something before I left,â she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. âDonât worry about me.â She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.
When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. âLet me make you some tea, then.â You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.
Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. âI donât want tea,â she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clearâit was something else that she wanted.
She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.
Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. âTake this off,â she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.
You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.
Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.
The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abbyâs big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. âSo pretty, baby,â she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.
âAbby,â you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. âWe shouldnât. What if someoneâŚ?â
âTheyâre all asleep by now,â she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading themâit was safe to say that she couldnât get enough of them. âBut youâre gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?â
You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. âI can manage,â you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldnât even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you werenât alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck itâyou would just have to hope that nobody walked in.
Abbyâs lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.
âFuck, look at you,â she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. âSo wet for me already.â
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasnât helping.
She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that sheâd been all over you.
Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abbyâs arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.
âMmphâAbby,â you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. âMânot gonna last much longer.â
With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little âoofâ puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.
It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was differentâthis was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.
You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.
She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldnât hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.
âShhh,â Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. âGotta beâmphâquiet, baby. Said you would, remember?â
You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abbyâs throat when she wasnât able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.
Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abbyâs pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.
âThatâs it, fuckâso good for me, baby.â Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abbyâs strength on top of you, controlling the movement.
âSo pretty when I fuck you like this,â she huffed. âYou like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.â
You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.
âGonna come? Gonna show me how fuckinâ good it feels, huh?â she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. âCâmon, give it to me.â
When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. âThatâs myâhaahâsâmy good girl.â She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abbyâs continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.
Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.
Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.
After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.
âCâmere,â she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abbyâs light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.
âLove you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.
âLove you, Abs.â
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson smut#abby tlou#tlou abby#abby anderson x fem reader#wlw fic#lesbian fic#abby anderson fic#the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou 2
1K notes
¡
View notes