#two iconic first kisses

[stonerbughead]

I just realized what the Jiara first kiss reminds me of: Choni’s first kiss!!!

It’s the Sisters of Quiet Mercy / Kitty Hawk rescue to finally kissing the love of your life pipeline

It’s the rescue plotline to bad lighting for your first kiss pipeline

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet

[resident-gay-bitch]

seven minutes in heaven? more like seven minutes to question my entire existence.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve being content in his bisexuality because after Robin came out to him he started researching and questioning and having deep dark conversations with her.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie having no clue he was gay because of course he wasn’t. And anytime a whisper of that terrifying question popped into his head he blocked it out because he couldn’t be anymore of a Freak, or a disappointment to his father. And he really couldn’t let Wayne down after all he has done for him.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve and Robin being sure Eddie was gay and often talking about it together, and about Steve’s definite crush on him and about this game of cat and mouse the pair were playing. Steve was just waiting for Eddie to make the first real move, because he was sick of playing the ‘guy’ in the relationship, and he was sick of doing the chasing, and Eddie was bold and confident and liked to tease.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie having no clue Steve was bi, or that Robin was gay, or about anyone’s sexualities or anything because he just didn’t think about that stuff. He didn’t need to.

Whatever you do, don’t think about the party having a sleepover in Mike Wheelers basement, sleeping bags strewn about the room and snacks everywhere as they played a game of seven minutes in heaven, reduced down to three because they couldn’t be bothered waiting that long for the next turn.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie spinning the bottle and landing on Steve and doing a little pump of his eyebrows because it was Steve, and Eddie was always like that with Steve, they were best friends.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve standing up with a massive grin and grabbing Eddie by the hand and practically dragging him into that little basement bathroom because he thought this is it. Its finally happening. Months of chasing back and forth and this is where Eddie was going to make his move. Steve was sure of it.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie taking a laid back seat on the porcelain sink as Steve eagerly slammed the door shut behind them. He lent back against the mirror and started thinking of a fun story or secret to tell Steve because that’s what he did with Dustin, and Max, and El, and Argyle, and even Robin who made it clear they weren’t kissing, he didn’t want to kiss her anyway.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve walking over to Eddie in his tight little basketball shorts with a grin and strawberry glossed lips and placing his hands on the sink on either side of Eddie, leaning in close so Eddie could make his move.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie trying to avert his eyes because Steve was so close and ohmygod was it hot in here?

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve getting a little confused because Eddie was trying to make normal conversation and wasn’t looking him in the eye.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie not understanding anything he was feeling right now because Steve was not supposed to be making him feel like this.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve looking at Eddie’s watch and realising they only had one minute left and Eddie still hadn’t kissed him and he was awkward and nervous and looked kind of uncomfortable and maybe Robin and Steve had it all wrong. So he took a little step back and straight up just asked Eddie if he was gay.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie turning red and getting all flustered and trying to tell Steve “No. No, no. I’m not gay, definitely not gay. I’m not, I’m sure… I’m, I can’t be. I like girls… I only like girls. I don’t think… guys are just… they don’t… I’m not…” and trying to convince Steve -himself- that he wasn’t gay.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve squinting his eyes at Eddie because Eddie was just so… dramatic about it, and he wasn’t getting offended he was just trying to tell Steve he wasn’t, and he noticed there were only ten seconds left before one of the kids would swing open that bathroom door now.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie feeling a lump in his throat and like he wanted to cry as he tried to talk but just couldn’t get convincing words out and Steve was looking at him weirdly and it just made everything worse.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve taking a few fuck it steps forward and grabbing Eddie and kissing him, hard, slipping in a little tongue.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie not kissing Steve back because whatthefuckSteve?! but the moment he felt Steve’s tongue poke into his mouth, his own tongue was licking against it like a reflex and he started to kiss Steve back.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve pulling back the moment he felt Eddie start kissing him, a smug smile on his lips as he stepped backwards, one, two, three times.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Max swinging the door open, right on cue and letting Steve walk past her, all smug and proud and grinning, and she looked at Eddie who had pink cheeks and wide eyes and strawberry lip gloss smeared against his lips and he was all flustered and she rolled her eyes, murmuring a little “ew”.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie sitting across from Steve in the circle for the next five turns of the game, legs crossed and pink cheeked and his head hung low when he wasn’t staring.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve still smugly smiling because he made Eddie a flustered, quiet mess, and he was very obviously whispering to Robin all about it because they kept looking over at Eddie and smirking.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie not being able to sleep that night because Mike Wheeler’s basement smells like teenage boy, and had constant snoring echoing through the walls, and Steve’s glossed up lips were on his mind.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Robin and Steve laying beside eachother, giggling and whispering all night about their stupid crushes because that’s all they talked about these days.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie getting frustrated with himself and getting up to go have some milk or something, maybe to step outside for a smoke to just clear his head because he wasn’t gay.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve noticing and following him up in his little shorts, and popping on some more strawberry gloss, just in case, and walking up the stairs to find Eddie drinking water and looking out the window because he didn’t want to touch the Wheelers fancy fridge and fuck it up.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie still not understanding anything he was feeling, and why he was thinking about Steve’s lips so much, and the taste of his lipgloss, and the feel of him so close.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve walking up to Eddie and leaning back on the island behind him, and asking if Eddie was okay.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden sound of Steve’s voice that also happens to give him goosebumps in more ways than one, but promising Steve he was fine.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve apologising for overstepping because Eddie didn’t seem fine in the slightest, and maybe he and Robin were wrong. So, so wrong and maybe Eddie was gonna hate him now.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie telling Steve, out of the blue, that he sure as shit wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. It was impossible, he liked girls, he was sure of it, they were pretty.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve wanting to cry, but forcing himself not to.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie looking up at Steve with glossy eyes in the dark of the kitchen, and the faintest whisper leaving his lips as he said, “I wish you were a girl”.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve’s heart skipping a beat at that, and the silence lingering in the air as they just looked at one another.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie letting a singular tear fall because he was just so overwhelmed with everything and didn’t know what else to do.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve walking up to Eddie, grabbing his shoulders softly and turning him back around to face the window, whilst Steve jumped up to sit on the counter, pulling Eddie between his legs and holding his hands, telling Eddie that he would probably make a very pretty girl if Eddie needed.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie smiling as Steve applied some more of his lipgloss and smacking his lips, and pretending to flick a long strand of hair back from his shoulder, and tweak his voice to sound more feminine as he asked Eddie if he looked pretty. And Eddie said yes, a little too quickly.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve slinging his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and asking if he wanted a kiss.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie tentatively holding Steve’s waist as he lent in to kiss him, slowly moving closer, calculated, swallowing, a nervous wreck.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve closing the gap that little bit faster and smiling against Eddie’s soft lips, gloss smeared between the two.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie melting into the kiss because apparently he did like kissing boys now, or maybe it was just Steve. But he liked it, and he gripped Steve’s hips and pulled him in closer until their chests were flush and Steve’s hands were in Eddie’s hair and their mouths were wet and tasted like strawberry lipgloss.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve pulling back for a breath of air and to check if Eddie was okay because he cared and he felt another tear slip into their mouths.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie chasing Steve’s lips the second they parted, leaning over with his fingers digging into Steve’s sides hard and not letting the kiss stop because he never wanted to stop kissing Steve.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve wiggling even closer, and Eddie’s hands dropping to his ass to hold him there, just for a moment and in that moment Steve let out a little whimper of satisfaction.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie pulling his hands back to Steve’s hips because this was all so new and he didn’t want to take it too far yet, whatever it was, but he’d keep that little sound in mind and would remember to put his hands there later.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie gripping Steve’s waist a little tighter because Steve tugged on his curls to deepen the kiss and it made him feel crazy, and he pressed himself harder into Steve because it all just felt so right for once, unlike all the times he’d kiss girls and couldn’t wait for it to be over.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist and locking his ankles together to keep him in place.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie pressing chase little pecks to Steve’s lips and whispering thankyou between each one, more tears slipping from his wet eyes.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve wiping those tears away and pulling Eddie back in for another long and needy kiss because he was just as intoxicated by it as Eddie.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Max waking up with the need to pee, but Mike was taking forever in the basement bathroom so she wandered upstairs and heard some weird, wet slapping noise and silent little whimpers and she thought it might be a Demogorgon or something so she peaked around the corner to get an eye full of Eddie sucking Steve’s face off, and she stopped, and scoffed and rolled her eyes and muttered a little “ew”.

Whatever you do, don’t think about both of them turning around red faces and terrified to look at Max, scared she was gonna cry bloody mary.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Max shaking her head and turning for the bathroom and throwing her hands up with a groan and the word “Finally” being shouted.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie turning back to Steve and asking what this meant now, because he was scared and confused and didn’t understand anything.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Steve sweeping hair back from Eddie’s face and soothing his anxiety’s away, and promising Eddie this could be whatever he needed it to, and that he wasn’t alone, he never would be again.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Eddie kissing Steve again because it’s all he could think to do now, and he cried into the kiss because things finally felt like they were clicking into place, and this giant weight was being lifted off his shoulders.

Whatever you do, don’t think about the pair heading back down stairs and curling up under Eddie’s sleeping bag, nimble fingers tracing over Steve’s chest as Eddie kissed his collarbone and neck in the dark.

Whatever you do, don’t think about the party waking up in the morning to find Eddie and Steve tangled up together, Steves strawberry gloss sticky and stuck to Eddie’s cheek and somehow marking his own neck, and then not thinking anything of it because everyone thought they had been dating for months and were glad they finally felt comfortable enough to show it.

Whatever you do, please think about Eddie adding a little rainbow rectangle patch to his battle vest a week later.

[kumakuma-circus]

just randomly remembered that during my like 10+ attempts at the shadow yukiko fight i more or less consistently ran out of revival beads so yosuke was just dead (well unconscious but whatever) on the ground for like half the fight gfhfjvhfhfhd-

[shaperaverse-brainrot]

niche post but School for Good and Evil Sophie and Agatha give the same vibes as Shaperaverse Sarah and Marjolein

[beachyserasims]

♡ Intimate Moments | Jasmine & Justin Final Date | GENEVA ISLAND

Part 2 of 2

* Jasmine and Justin are done with the table of goodies, so they head outside to a pair of easels where they start to paint and chat together.* 

Justin: So Jas, are you happy we are here together in the end like this? Is it anything like you expected it would be?

Jasmine: Well, coming here I didn’t really expect much, but I am really happy that I met you and we ended up together. Did you see us together in the end?

Justin: If I’m honest, I definitely did see us together in the end when we first coupled up, but being here with you now seems kind of like a miracle…

Jasmine: What do you mean by that?

Justin: Well, when I first came to the villa I was completely overwhelmed by our chemistry together. It was so powerful that you even broke up with Blakes for us... But then it seemed like things cooled off a lot after he left.

Jasmine: You’re right… Our passion was intense. I couldn’t deny it, and it scared me a lot… Before you came, I was a indulging on my every selfish whim… But I hurt myself doing that, and worst of all, other people that I care about. I didn’t want to do that again, I still don’t… I wanted to give us a shot at being better.

Justin: But what about Rowan and Sean? If you needed to go slow we could have gone as slow as you wanted… [to himself: We were perfect…]

Jasmine: Its hard to explain, but, it wasn’t just for me. I wanted you to get the chance to get to know other people too so that you would know for sure if I was right for you… And I mean… you obviously needed it cause you had your fun with Judi…

Justin: Jas, you pushed us together –

Jasmine: [interrupting] And Samora?

Justin: [upset] It was never serious with her, and would you care if it were? [flustered] Its just, it’s been so hard being here with you and not really being with you… Waiting for the day that you come back and we could be like we were when I first arrived…

Jasmine: To answer your question, I would care. It stung me a lot to hear you were into her… [sincere] -and I’m sorry for pushing you away. I’m trying to conquer my jealousy issues, but instead I just ran away from something special…

Justin: [sigh] It’s ok Jas… Life is full of lessons, all we can do is try to learn from them.

Jasmine: You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better…

* They hug *

Jasmine: - But I am done running. If you’re willing to try this in the real world, then I am too. I hope that you will be, even after all this…Justin: Thanks Jasmine, that means a lot to me.

The Start || Beginning of Episodes || Previous || Next

[trans-corvo]

Here’s the watchlist for my thesis in case anyone is curious about old-timey german movies that explore ‘deviant’ forms of sexuality and gender.

[arklay]

DANI HAINES x CLAIRE REDFIELD / template.

[weedle-testaburger]

You know, since it's Pride Month (and also I miss them), I feel like reminding everyone how fucking important Ruby and Sapphire were.

The way they were both unambiguously conceived as queer characters and let the writers make an established character queer retroactively. The fact that as soon as they share the screen, they immediately show how in love they are, without any ambiguity to please the censors, and they do that almost every episode they're in.

How their relationship isn't always 100% perfect, and they do conflict and fall out, but make up in the end because they genuinely love each other. How they were allowed to be iconic parts of the show, not just through being the focus of two of its most famous songs (Stronger Than You and Here Comes A Thought) but also through the book version of The Answer.

The fact they got the first gay kiss...

...and the first gay wedding in the history of kid's TV.

The way their reception showed networks that yes, people do enjoy media with queer characters, and so they contributed to many other series with prominent LGBTQ characters getting greenlit.

I honestly don't think it's exaggerating to say they're among the most important queer characters in the history of fiction for all that. And people need to say it more, and demand stuff like them more.

[beguilingcorpse]

rating ways to advertise the locked tomb

"lesbian necromancers in space": 5/10. technically true, except that gideon isn't a necromancer and for the most part they aren't in space. can also be tonally misleading; implies a fun space opera adventure and fails to mention the impending emotional devastation. that being said it is iconic and (mostly) effective

"murder mystery in a haunted gothic castle": 8/10. MUCH better at capturing the tone and plot of the first book, but still a little off. imagine picking up the book because of this blurb and then watching gideon nav make a mean girls reference in the first 20 pages. the whiplash could kill you

"a locked tomb mystery": 5/10. nondescriptive and a little misleading, but i can't give this any lower than a 5 because the pun is very good. gideon would love this one and that should count for something

"gay goth among us": 10/10. i'm not even going to pretend like this one doesn't nail it. try and argue against this. you can't. captures the murders, the space-y setting, the queer characters, the tone and aesthetic, AND the contemporary humor. chef's kiss

"enemies to lovers 'i hate everyone but you' slow burn": 1/10. true if you squint. the relationship between gideon and harrow would make booktok weep

"catholic homestuck": 9/10. this means nothing and explains everything

this tweet by tamsyn muir:

[Image ID: A tweet by "tamsyn should be writing" @tazmuir: "sure, I edited from 12 o'clock to 4.30, but how much of that time did I spend on the discovery that the basis of my novel is 'what if these two were... teenage girls'", followed by an image of Skeletor and He-Man. /end ID]

10/10. conveys the pop culture savvy of the series, the complex dynamic between the main characters, and the humor of the writing style all at once. also makes me laugh every time i think about it

[thatsouthernstate]

July 18-19, 2023

If I keep holdin' out

Will the light shine through?

Under this broken roof

It's only rain that I feel

I've been wishing out the days

Oh, oh, oh, come back

I have been planning out

All that I'd say to you

Since you slipped away

Know that I still remain true

I've been wishing out the days

Please say, that if you hadn'ta gone now

I wouldn't have lost you another way

From wherever you are

Oh, oh, come back

And these days, they linger on

And in the night, I been waitin' for

The real possibility that I may meet you in my dreams

I go to sleep

If I don't fall apart

Will my memories stay clear?

So you had to go

And I had to remain here

But the strangest thing today

So far away and yet you feel so close

And I'm not gonna question it any other way

There must be an open door for you

To come back

And the days, they linger on

And every night, what I'm waitin' for

Is the real possibility I may meet you in my dream

Sometimes you're there and you're talking back to me

Come the morning, I could swear that you're next to me

And it's okay

It's okay

It’s okay

I'll be here, come back, come back

I'll be here, come back, come back

I'll be here, come back, come back

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( fifth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mommy kink , drug + alcohol usage , smut drabble , submissive toji , soft sex , profanity

୨୧˚ an; guys… i don’t know what took over me when i wrote this one….im sorry ,, also yes drabble time, you all knew this would happen eventually don’t act surprised 🙄🙄🙄

come over and show me then

The last message Toji had sent you. He was bold, heart racing just the slightest bit when he thumbed that frightening, little arrow icon to send a text that would most likely change his whole relationship chemistry with you. You, the kind hearted woman who graced him with your undying benevolence and wealth. 

You, the woman Toji called mommy not even twelve hours ago during an idiotic, drunken stupor. 

You, the woman who graced his bed, peering up to him with the softest gaze Toji’d ever been observed with. It was an odd sight–you splayed on his mattress. Dawning a lavish top; silken, Toji absentmindedly recognizes the fabric ( then proceeds to grimace at the fact that he can actually discern between different breeds of fabric. Your lifestyle was rubbing off on him ) and thinks you look out of place. An expensive jewel among the dank cave of his shoddy bedroom.  

Toji crawls in after you, winding up your side, clinging akin to a baby koala bear. Still, he doesn’t speak, preferring to let the sounds of sheets sliding against each other fill the gaps of silence. You take his hulking body in those loving arms and break the quiet. “I’m not buying you for the night.” You cradle his cheek; you make him look up to you and Toji nods under your hand. “You know that, right?”

He nods again. “Sure,” and for once, it comes out without a modicum of sarcasm. Because Toji believes it when you tell him that you’re not looking to gain access to his body through flimsy transactions. Your sincerity is displayed through the months of torturous anticipation. Months of him on the cusp of begging–and Toji Fushiguro has never begged for anything in his goddamned miserable life. Your sincerity is displayed through the gingerness in which you hold his face. Because how could someone with such gentle hands ever tell a lie? And your sincerity is displayed through your words. You tell Toji things that nobody has ever told him before. Nice things, reassuring things despite his insistence on being an asshole to you.

Toji pushes his torso to be propped up on an elbow before he leans in. It’s not a tame first kiss by any means; Toji is mammalian in the way his teeth gnash yours and his tongue laves your cupid’s bow. “Slow,” you whisper in the short absence of his lips. “Slowly.” A command that he feels inclined to follow like some kept mutt, swapping out the animalistic pace with a more refined, controlled tempo. Your face was swallowed by two massive hands; they clamped on either side of your jaw, calloused and dry and forcefully pulling you closer. “Just like that, Toji.”

The way you say his name… Fuck. Toji grunts, swinging a heavy thigh over your own to situate between your legs. “I’ve never,” there's a pause when he leans in to suck the tip of your tongue, “been so desperate to be inside a woman.” His thick tongue worms back into your mouth, pushing smoky saliva down your throat. You were writhing; your hand slides over his, the one still tending to your cheek, and you guide it lower. He let you drag his hand down the smooth slope of your neck, over the hill of your delicate chest, across the plain of your soft tummy to meet the waistband of your designer pants. 

Your head tilts, something devious glinting in the colored rings of your eyes that have Toji so enchanted. He plucks at the brass button of your pants, nudging the point of his nose to the high of your cheekbone. Breathing in the luxury branded perfume that overpowered the cigarette stench still lingering in his room from his morning smoke; evidenced by the stub crumbled in the glass tray on his wobbly nightstand. “What about the girl…Girl from last night?” 

Toji smiles at the breathy question. “What girl?” He hums cheekily against your mouth, letting his tongue slip back through the seam of your delicious lips. You slap his face rather playful, but his breath hitches all the same.

“Dick.”

At last, he pops the button. The acrylic of your nails sink into the meat of his forearm, legs widening, ass shifting; all of the signs that Toji hyperfixated on. The way you tell him to keep going without so much as saying a word has him hotter than anytime another woman has begged for his touch in bed. Toji kisses you as he dips beneath the ajar slacks, then those sheer panties, slipping down to where you needed him most. You’re wet, he notes to himself. Wet, squelching and red hot when his thick middle finger sandwiches itself between the labia. 

Both pairs of legs tangled together amidst the desperation. While Toji touches you, you’re hiking your leg up–the one snuggled between two of the man’s built thighs. It presses to his clothed crotch, and you reach around grab a handful of his ass. “Hump it,” you dictate, using his ass cheek as leverage to pull his hips down against your awaiting thigh. Toji jolts; never had his ass been grabbed like that, but he thinks he likes it.

So he grinds. His groin crashes against your leg with rough enthusiasm, so rough that it should be a threat to your poor femur bone. But he doesn’t let up. Toji’s arm tenses and shakes with exertion as he fingers you, forearm burning from the intensity at which he moves. But he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck,” he huffs. “Fuck.”

What is he, some kind of dog? Chasing his high against a leg, licking your neck, barking obscenities into existence. Had you been anyone else, Toji would have had them bent at the waist over his bed, forcing their face into his lonesome pillow and taking what he needed. But you had this certain authority–you’d always had–as if you owned him. Not that you would ever admit that, nor did you believe it, but Toji did. You pay for his living quarters, his meals, his clothes, his car, hell, his time. The leash was cuffed at his throat, leather digging into his flesh, and he fucking loved it. Toji would wait for your instructions like a well behaved puppy. 

“Take my pants off,” you utter, and it’s only then does Toji realize that the both of you hadn’t bothered shedding any layers, taking favor in rutting clothed bodies together like a couple of immature teens. His hips pause their humping, and his tongue finds one long, last lick to your jugular before pulling back.

Two thumbs hook beneath both layers of material at your hips. “Can’t believe you made me wait this long,” he mutters offhandedly, dragging your pants down. 

You’re bare. His mouth waters at the sight of glistening moisture between your legs, encapsulated by a dusting of hair. Toji stares, nestled on his knees, straddling your thigh. He just stares.

“I told you my reasons,” you say.

He doesn’t respond to that. “I want to fuck you.”

Your chest rises. Are you arching for him? “Ask me.” When he cocks a confused brow, you lightly elaborate. “Show me some of that respect I taught you and ask me nicely.”

The sole of your foot caresses his pec over the black tee shirt he sports, a gentle notion that he is allowed to take his time. Toji doesn’t need time though; he’s got your twisted little request all figured out. It’s funny, he shouldn’t have expected any less. To him, respect didn’t exist in the bedroom, but Toji would make an exception. “Will you let me fuck you tonight?” You’re not letting him get off that easy, your pointed eyes say it all. So, in an uncharacteristically piteous voice, the man adds “please, ma’am” and strokes your calf for good measure.

That does it. 

Your legs spread, arms racing up to coil around the thick post of his neck. He lets you pull him down, lets you kiss him tenderly, lets your tongue curl behind his teeth. Toji groans, reaching a sticky hand down to clumsily shove his sweatpants around his ass. “You have no–” kiss “idea what you–” kiss “you do to me–” kiss, kiss “when you call me that.”

His length drags over your core, hot and heavy and thick and raw. He doesn’t move to grab a condom knowing damn well there’s a box that sits in his nightstand to the left of them. A box that has been forgotten, left untouched in the waking months of his realization that he doesn’t want to fuck other people. Why would he? When you take such good fucking care of him, what’s the point in sleeping around anymore?

“Be grateful,” Toji husks, rubbing up against the warmth beneath him. “‘M never this nice in bed.”

“I’m not, either.”

He throbs at that. A small hand snakes behind his head, weaving into the raven shag of his hair, and tugs. “I really never meant for this to happen.” Toji narrows those steely eyes at you. “To end up in your bed, I mean. I thought I had more resolve than this.”

Too bad money can’t buy resolve, he thinks inwardly. Hand still between bodies, Toji jerks himself slowly, soaking his tip in your entrance. His gaze is glued to your face, flitting amidst all the gorgeous features it had to offer. “I knew I’d get you here eventually,” he speaks with a lilt of confidence, prodding the point of his nose to yours. And then he pushes inside without warning. You’re gooey; a hot, wet heat encasing his body from head to toe. He feels you shudder, feels nails in his nape. He feels your sticky breaths on his cheek, feels your pillowy thighs squish against his hip bones. Toji serves you the entire length in one slow thrust, holding himself inside. “Fuck.”

“Slow,” you warn once more in a broken voice. His hair was grabbed again, you used it as a makeshift handlebar to yank Toji’s head down. His handsome face plummeted into the divot between your breasts, still gift wrapped in that undoubtedly overpriced shirt. His nose pressed to your sternum, taking deep inhales. 

Slow. 

Slow sex was unfamiliar territory to Toji, one among the list of foreign concepts you had introduced to him during your time together. Fucking was animalistic practice between two people, fast-paced and greedy and surprisingly lonely. Toji fucked with the intention of climaxing; intimacy is irrelevant. Was irrelevant. 

Toji slips a hand beneath your back, locking a grip on the underside of your shoulder to weld your chest to his face. Slow, timely thrusts met your cunt, watery squelches filled the room. “Oh, fuck.”

Your hands wander. Crawling down the base of his spine, breezing over his tail bone, clutching his bare ass. Guiding him in a way, and he doesn’t entirely mind. “My boy,” you moan in the throes of pleasure, a free hand blindly feeling for the back of his sweaty neck. Fingers stroke the precious skin there, sensitive flesh that nobody has ever paid attention to, not even himself. Toji trembles.

“Take it,” he whispers back, as if he still had any semblance of control. But you let him, and he thinks you’re too fucking nice for sparing his pride like that. “Take it, goddamn it.”

“Yes, my sweet boy.”

Idiotic. He is no longer a boy, nor does he even slightly compare to anything sweet. God, if you knew him. If you knew what he did for work… How many people he’s gutted and bled like livestock for quick cash… You would leave. He knows this to be a fact of life, you’re simply too moralistic and caring and selfless to keep in contact with a monster like him.

“Let mommy take care of you.”

Oh Jesus Christ, he’s done for. You wax praises so sincere that Toji starts to let himself believe he’s good. He pretends he’s worthy of being here with you right now in this bed, with your lithe fingers petting his damp hair and your breasts against his cheek, and fucks you harder. The toes of two socked feet bury into the mattress.

You successfully conquered his flimsy pride. “Mom… my…,” Toji breathes out, stifling down the impending whine caught at the back of his esophagus. He bucks deep inside, pubic bone to pubic bone, and grabs a handful of tit. So fucking soft even under this stupid shirt.

The sex plays out this way until the very end. A gentle tango that reminds Toji he hadn’t actually fucked in missionary position for some time. But at last, you came around him. “Toji, baby I’m here.” As if you were charged with electricity, you twitched and jumped beneath him. Toji fucked you through it, grinding his hips in a trajectory that caught your clit with his pubic hair. The friction was passionate, and you came with your jaw unhinged on a silent yelp.

“Give it to me,” he rasped, tongue lolling out to lick at your cleavage through your shirt. Drool rolled down the palate, collecting into a small puddle and dampening the fabric. A messy puppy, drooling all over you like that. Toji fucked harder, much too hard to be considered ‘slow’ anymore, but you didn’t stop him.

“Come on.” A hand dips beneath the collar of Toji’s tight shirt, scratching the ever loving fuck out of his upper back. “Cum baby boy.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck.” The thrusts halt abruptly; Toji rams himself deep inside and holds onto you for dear life. There’s a brief pause before he empties himself into the deepest depths of your pussy, twitching as he does so. You coo, talking him through it with an inoffensive hand raking his bangs back. They stick, his sweat acting like a sort of natural gel, and Toji’s forehead is on display. You drag him up and press your lips to it—he flushes and drops back onto you, hiding in your neck.

Toji gasps on his come down, gulping in air through his nose. He’s weak and it’s strange. Despite the stupid amount of strength trapped within that Herculean body, Toji cannot find it in him to hover anymore. His entire weight drops onto your much tinier frame, but he hears no objections so he keeps himself there.

“Worth the buildup?” You ask at last, rubbing soothing circles into the plates of his shoulder blades. Your voice is a little strained, no doubt the effects of a two-hundred-and-something-pound man crushing your lungs, but Toji likes the funny grate of it in his ears.

“You already know the answer.” It’s written in the way your cum mixes together and wets the crease of his inner thighs. He’s not exactly going to say that was the most intimate and passionate sex i’ve ever had, but he’ll show you how much it meant to him by letting you cradle him to your chest.

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tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni

[eyesxxyou]

First Smoke 🚬

💨・・・l. howlett x fem!reader

rating. m

word count. 2.5k

synopsis. you were everything logan shouldn't want. young, religious, and innocent. you were sweet to everyone. and you've never been touched. logan wants to be your first everything.

warnings. age gap relationship (reader is 21, Logan is nearing 50) , religious reader, innocent reader, smoking, shotgunning smoke, dubious consent, dry humping, spanking, a bit of toxic relationship dynamics, logan is not a good person, not edited

↳ pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3

You’ve always been attracted to Logan Howlett. From his strong build—broad shoulders, the fine lines of veins on his arms—to his carefree disposition. You liked the way he carried himself, confident, lumbering, like his dick was too big between his legs. You especially liked his belts. The thick, worn, leather. The large buckle was always either silver or bronze, engraved with a design.

It was a worldly lust, one you shunned for many years growing up. One you tried to pray away. A test from God to see if you could remain devout. And for a while, you were doing so good. You kept your left for him down, you prayed for the strength to face him everyday.

And then he offered you a drink.

You were back the next day, and the next, and the next. All with the promise of great pleasure and even greater corruption. You prayed every night for forgiveness and went back to commit more sins, more atrocities against your body. You never let Logan take your virginity, but he did penetrate you with his fingers nearly every day. You’ve seen his erect cock, long and thick, 8 to 9 inches of solidity, while he jerked off while fingering you. He came on your belly, just nearly missing your cunt.

You sat like a pretty, little doll in Logan's garage in white stockings with flower designs on them, a white dress dotted in lilacs that went down to your shins, a white cardigan you knitted yourself, and your iconic mary janes heels. You fiddled with the pearl necklace sitting delicately on your collarbones while your heels clicked and your cardigan fell slightly off your shoulder.

Logan was shirtless, the muscles of his sweat covered back flexing as he rummaged through his toolbox. He was beautiful, sun-kissed, pants hanging low on his lips with that thick belt of his. His hair stuck slightly to the nape of his neck.

After a moment, he grunted, closed his toolbox, and reached into his pocket for a lighter while going over to grab a cigar. He placed the thick thing between his lips and flicked his lighter.

“Isn't that dangerous, Mr. Howlett? Lighting a cigar around grease and oil and gasoline?” You ask softly, watching him take a long drag before blowing the smoke. He looked at you with a quirked brow. “Don’t worry about it, doll.” He sat down on an old chair across the garage out of the sun, fingers motioning you over to sit in his lap as you always did. He loved you in his lap, your frame so pretty on top of him, the way you squirm.

Your eyes flickered to the open garage door, rolled up all the way to let the waning sunlight in. “I can't, Mr. Howlett. Someone will see us.” And that someone will recognize you as the pastor’s daughter and inform your father that you were caught in his lap. Canoodling with not only a man, but a man twice your age. He’d never let you out of the house again.

Logan glanced out of the door. “Nah, we’re hidden behind the bike.” A lie that fell too smoothly from his lips. You both were in the corner, in the shade. Eyes would glaze right over your bodies. No one would notice you two unless they were truly taking the time to look. People rarely ever did.

You seemed to calm a little at his words and carefully made your way over to his little corner where he lounged. Logan offered out a hand to keep you steady as you hiked up the skirt of your dress a little and straddled his thighs. You placed your hands on his chest to balance yourself. You liked the hair on his chest that led down his rock solid abdomen. There was a single vein leading down below the belt.

You looked back over your shoulder at the open garage door, eyeing the street as a car passed by. Logan noticed the worry pressing wrinkles to your face, the doubt in your eyes and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him instead of the street. Smoke came out of his nose slightly, “stop worrying.”

He took another long drag of his cigar and watched with amusement as you eyed the thing curiously. “You don't want none of this, baby. It’s too strong for you.” Logan’s hand stroked your thigh through your stockings. Your lips unintentionally formed into a small pout. You were used to being told no in your life, but Logan never did. You liked the freedom that came with being with him, even if that was at the expense of your soul. You were making dealings with the devil.

Logan sucked up smoke into his mouth and grabbed you firmly at the back of the head, pulling you in to press your lips to his. He blew the smoke between your lips and let it fill your mouth and billow down your throat. Breaking away, began to cough into the back of your hand.

“I told you; too strong for a little babydoll like you.”

The taste lingered on your lips and in your mouth, smokey, bitter. How could he possibly enjoy this stuff? He smoked and drank like it was nothing but you had remained abstemious your entire life, you weren't accustomed to the taste yet. More importantly, your lips had tasted his lips. He had so suddenly stolen your first kiss from you.

You whispered to him, “that was my first kiss.”

“Oh baby,” Logan leaned forward, chuckling softly. “That wasn't a kiss. I can show you what a real kiss looks like.” He took his cigar from his mouth, enjoying the way you shuddered as his prickly facial hair brushed against your cheek. He kissed you because he could, because he wanted to, because he knew if he didn't steal your first kiss from your delicate hands, someone else would. He had to take everything from you, be your first everything, possess you wholly.

You were awkward, squirming, unsure of what to do with your mouth, your tongue. Logan held you by the hips, pulling you ever closer, tasting of smoke, whiskey, and bad decisions rolled into one. His tongue pressed to yours, tracing and exploring every crevice of your mouth. He was not gentle with you. You were no child, you could handle it.

Your lips tasted like a medley of fruit from your lip balm and toothpaste. You were fresh, clean, so terribly pure that every lick of his tongue against yours, every orgasm he drew out of you dirtied you in the mud of sin. Your hands were clawing at his shoulders, your hips pressed down into his lap with the help of his hands.

Another car went past and you leaped away from his kiss, panting. “Someone’s going to see us, Mr. Howlett. My father will kill both of us.” Logan didn't seem to care all that much. He pulled the skirt of your dress up and pulled you down until your body pressed flush with his. Your little cunt pressed right to the large buckle of his belt.

He reached between your legs and found a weak spot in your stockings, jabbing his finger through and ripping the lacy fabric through the middle to access your pretty center. You were wearing another pair of cotton panties, white, with a little bow on the front. “Mr. Howlett.” You whined at your ruined article of clothing. You’d never be able to explain it to your parents. “Listen to me. We can't, not here.”

“We'll be fine, doll.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. Logan was so much stronger than you, his hand forcing you to press yourself down onto him, your cotton-covered clit catching along the design of his buckle. You gasped, shuddering, your eyes growing heavy. Your hands on his shoulders, rubbing his chest. You weren't like you were before. Timid. Afraid. You were scandalous in a way you never thought you would be. You took the time to grind your hips against his buckle, finding just the right ridge to play with your clit.

How he's tainted you.

Logan leaned back, smoking with a serene smirk while he watched you take your pleasure against his belt. It was quite the show. Your fingers against his solid chest, your eyes fluttered to a close, the way you humped him almost like a desperate bitch in heat. Dulcet moans passed your lips like a song, silky and sweet with a touch of depravity.

“Oooh– Mr. Howlett~” You liked all the bumps and ridges of the design on his buckle, the way it all tickled your pussy at just the right spots and angles. Logan stroked your hip with his free hand, smoking with his other. You were all whiny and squeaky, already falling apart in his lap. He’s made you something monstrous, disgusting. And you liked it.

You were soaking through your panties. Any other time you would have been humiliated, the sin of your lust. But oh, you were hitting all the right spots and you couldn't hear anything beyond the ringing in your ears. Someone could have walked right into Logan's garage and witnessed you pleasuring yourself on his belt of all things and you would have hardly noticed.

Logan, thoroughly amused, took a long drag from his cigar and blew it into your face. You felt a little hazy, whining a little. “Stop.” He did it again, smiling and chuckling lowly as you squirmed. “I can get the whiskey out again, doll. You seem to enjoy yourself better when you’re drunk.”

You shook your head. “Nuh uh, let me– let me keep going. I'm…enjoying myself– just fine.” You squeaked as you found a little nub to rub your bundle of nerves across. You could feel everything as if you didn't have any panties on at all. Your underwear stuck to your cunt like a second sink, so thin that it might as well not be there in the first place.

You were a sensitive little thing. Getting you to cum was an easy task. A few clicks at your clit, a few dirty words in your ear, and you were melting into a puddle in his lap. This time, you were doing it all by yourself, showing off all you had learned. But there was nothing quite satisfying about that. Logan liked his unwavering control over you.

So as you teetered towards the edge of relief, Logan grunted, “Don't you cum until I tell you to.” There was a warning hidden behind his voice. There would be consequences if you disobeyed. You were used to obeying, you just found a new master to serve. 

You cried softly. “No, no, no, ‘m so close,” you slurred, rutting your hips like a wild animal. Logan tapped his cigar off the side of the chair before placing it back between his lips. “Don't you dare, doll.” It threatened unknown possibilities, an infinity of punishments. “I’ll march you out into the street and finger you in the front yard. Everyone will see you for the slut you are.”

He’d never actually do it. Logan would like to keep the sight of you cumming to himself alone, but the threat was enough to keep you at bay, to keep his firm control over you.

You shook your head wildly, still rubbing and humping, tears pricking your eyes. “No, please–” You wept at the thought of being ousted from your community, disowned by your family, made to be some shameless whore on the street. A man like Logan would never marry you. He'd never make you his wife. He liked playing with the hearts of little girls like you, who didn't know any better.

So you try your best not to cum with tears streaking your face, tears that only make Logan harder. You look so pretty when you cry. Partially from pleasure, partially from fear, maybe some pain. Your legs trembled with the weight of an orgasm denied.

You went like this for 2 orgasms. Your pussy rubbed red and puffy through your panties, a wet patch on the crotch of his pants from your dripping cunt. “I can't! I can't, Mr. Howlett.” You were sobbing hysterically. Your entire body shook violently with your next orgasm that rushed you like a freight train and came with a hot flash throughout your entire body.

Logan watched you cum on his belt, pussy pulsing and rubbing. You almost went cross-eyed, how cute. Your cheeks were dripping wet with salty tears he could just lick right off your face if he so desired. He liked seeing you cry, liked the way you sobbed like you had no sense.

You were panting, aching, nearly fell right off his lap if he didn't catch you. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry. Please don't take me to the yard. My– my family will never look at me the same.” You murmured out your words, still crying like a baby.

“I ain't gonna take you to the yard, doll.” Logan, thoroughly amused by your panic, guided you to lay over his lap with your ass facing the open garage door. “I am gonna give you a spanking though.” He smiled at the whimper you let out; his hand flipping up your skirt to reveal your ripped stockings and soaked through panties.

You were reminded of when you were a little girl, in your father's lap when he would spank you for doing something bad. You wiggled and writhed with anticipation, fingers gripping his thigh. Logan soothed his hand over the soft skin of your ass as he gripped great handfuls of flesh into his palms.

The first one came with a great ring of skin against skin. You yelped, lunging forward. More tears, more childish crying. Logan rubbed the spot where he spanked you to soothe the pain. “Quiet down. You don't want anyone to get curious, do you?” You shook your head with feverish intent. You couldn't have anyone looking this way, watching you get spanked, reporting back to your father.

Logan raised his hand and brought it down against your other asscheek. You bit your lip to stifle the sob that threatened to leave you. You did the same when he spanked you again and again, biting so hard you could taste the metallic beginnings of blood.

In total, Logan spanked you 15 times before he deemed it enough and let you up. You were shaking like a startled dog, your once neat, pinned up hair now ruined, your dress wrinkled, your stockings ripped. You were a beautiful mess. His beautiful mess. He was ruining you.

“Come here, babydoll.” Logan coaxed you towards him as he put out his cigar in the ashtray nearby. He took you by the hips and pulled you back into his lap. You were so small and meek, you didn't even fight.

Logan brushed your hair out of your face, carefully fixing it back up with various bands and clips until it looked reasonably neat again. He was gentle for once, taking your chin in between his fingers, and he kissed you. He was tender with that too, licking the blood from your bottom lip with a smile.

Logan always had a habit of destroying his favorite toys.

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙under their wings | OB87˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: ollie bearman x fem y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: 2025 grid, teen reader (18)

summary: in which your taken under the wings of the other wags during your first half season as the youngest wag in the paddock 💓

a/n: loveeee this request omg had to write it straight away!! kind of short but think it fits :)

request!!!: smau fic set in 2025 in which ollie bearmans gf is quite young like 18/19 and people just react to how young the two of them are compared to the other drivers and wags?? like her hanging out with kika and alex and people just thinking it’s very cute they’re taking her under their wing ❤️

my masterlist

fc: agathe renou

instagram ->

olliebearman 📍 melbourne

liked by estebanocon, charles_leclerc, and others

olliebearman in the points for the first race of the season! 😎

view all comments

user1 omgggg i alr love the 2025 season

user2 same i love having ollie on the grid fr

user3 so cute is that his gf on the last slide

estebanocon a great first race!

olliebearman a true pleasure :)

charles_leclerc congratulations ollie ❤️

olliebearman thanks father🥹

alexandrasaintmleux 😂

user4 so obsessed with them

user5 the other drivers r all so sweet to ollie 🥺

oscarpiastri what a first race of the season!

olliebearman means too much ����

landonorris congrats!! keep pushing 👊

olliebearman 'preciate it 🔥

yourusername 🥹soso proud of u

olliebearman couldnt do it without you x

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, and others

yourusername 🦒 we've been travelling!!

tagged: olliebearman

view all comments

user11 ppl who r new to ollie & y/n, welcome 😎

lilymhe your hair is everyyyyythingggg !!

yourusername im blushing soso badly

francisca.cgomes u little beauty <3

yourusername 🥹🥹

alexandrasaintmleux the cutest!!!

yourusername lyyy

user12 omg the wags r so sweet

user13 omg squealing at all the wags

user14 it's too cute omg

charles_leclerc is that toffee the giraffe?

yourusername yea omg lolll embarrassing much

charles_leclerc embarrassing?! do you know who you're talking to 🤔

olliebearman true

alexandrasaintmleux yup

user15 HAHAH this is so cute & funny

user16 toffee the giraffe omg im obsessed

olliebearman love my favs!!

yourusername kisses from me & toffee :))

user17 too adorable 😭

f1wagupdates

liked by user11, user2, user8, and others

f1wagupdates every time ollie bearman's girlfriend y/n y/l/n has been seen out in public with other f1 wags!

1. y/n out shopping with pierre gasly's girlfriend & model, kika gomes!

2. y/n seen for lunch with carlos sainz's wag & model, rebecca donaldson

3. y/n seen out in nyc with alex albon's girlfriend and golfer, lily muni he

4. y/n seen out again with kika gomes and alexandra saint mleux, charles leclerc's model & art enthusiast girlfriend ❤️

tagged: yourusername, francisca.cgomes, iamrebeccad, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux

views all comments

user18 omg i love themmmm

user19 this is jus the sweetest thing

user20 i love how they've taken her under their wing!!

user21 fr coz she must've been so nervous in the f1 paddock especially coz she's soo young

user22 fr i feel like there's barely any super young drivers on the grid atm for her & ollie to bond with

user23 literally omg it's so sweet of the wags <3

user24 how old is y/n?

user25 18 🥹

user26 oh to be y/n

user27 built in besties 😭

user28 i'd kill to be in the paddock with this wag lineup

user29 fr it's so iconic

user30 y/n & ollie being the grid babies and everyone adopting them is so personal to meeee

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by francisca.cgomes, olliebearman, and others

alexandrasaintmleux aww our lil babies 🥹💓

yourusername 😂 you & charles are taking the parent thing very literal

alexandrasaintmleux it's a very important job!

olliebearman love you baby

yourusername i love uuu

user32 me when omg

user33 goals much

landonorris he's such a simp

yourusername dont be a meanie lando!!

landonorris my bad. it's my natural instinct

yourusername i know but dont u worry ur little head! ur getting better 😇

olliebearman

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and others

olliebearman little life update

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

user34 toffee!!!

user35 toffee & y/n appearances <33

user36 cant expect much else from an ollie post 😂

user37 true

arthur_leclerc catch up during summer break? 😎

olliebearman yes definitely ! 👍

francisca.cgomes the y/n pic did not disappoint!

olliebearman 😂 you guys are in love with my girl!

alexandrasaintmleux not true we can just appreciate true art :)

yourusername oh guys ur making me blush

olliebearman your beauty transcends language

yourusername ???

olliebearman nvm. charles told me to put that

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂

user38 LOLLLL omg charles leclerc rizz

user39 i love these 2 😭

estebanocon what a season so far

olliebearman 🕺

user40 hahahaha love them

yourusername posted a story

liked by lilymhe, iamrebeccad, and others

lilymhe i hear you girl 😴

yourusername need ollie to myself for once 😂

lilymhe literallyyyyy! f1 is exhausting!

alexandrasaintmleux same i can't go through border control again i might breakdown

yourusername yup. like ask me my reason for travelling one more time 👊

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂

user41 so gorgeous

user42 ur glowinggg

liked by yourusername

user43 we'll miss u during break!!

olliebearman can't wait to spend summer with you my loveee 🥰

yourusername a well deserved rest baby 💓

yourusername 📍 hungary

liked by olliebearman, estebanocon, and others

yourusername that's that done (for now) 🥰

tagged: olliebearman

view all comments

estebanocon so great having you in the garage this season!

yourusername thanks for making us feel so welcome estie 🥹

user44 too cute

user45 she's too stunning wow

lilymhe once again, your hair 😻

yourusername 🙈

charles_leclerc im sure we'll be seeing you both during the break

yourusername i imagine so 😇

carlossainz55 here's to summer break 🥂

liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes 😘 im sure me & pierre will find u in europe this summer

yourusername oh 100% 💓

user46 she's made so many friends it's adorable 🥹🥹🥹

user47 ily y/n i wish i was uuuu

user48 my fav wag fr

user49 same she's won my heart so fast

olliebearman will be a summer to remember im sure ❤️ love you so much

yourusername ☀️ i love you!!

THE END 🤍

[hoshigray]

nanami x big ole freak for the people please 🙏

- megan anon

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: *smacks and slides hands together* yessirrrr! based on this ask + iconic song by queen Megan

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Nanami x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (f! + m! receiving) - fingering (f! receiving) - 69 + cowgirl + mating press positions - slight bondage; restriction of hands - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - clitoral play - orgasm denial - pet names ( baby, love, sweetheart) - reader lowhighkey a dom - implied fwb relationship.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

“Yo! Nanami~n, wanna hang out with me and Shoko tonight?”

“No thanks; I have something to get to.” 

“Ehhh, something or someone?” Gojo looks over the shoulder to see his subordinate is on the phone and, by the looks of it, texting another person. “C’mon tell me, is it a guy, girl, a curse—who got the attention of the reserved Mister Nanami Kento?”

“Gojo,” the blonde man shuts his snow-haired superior down while stuffing his phone into his tan suit. “It’s my business; don’t meddle in.” He turns with the sole of his foot and walks away, the whine of the taller other not fazing him.

Gojo snickers to himself while watching his peer stride away. “Wonder who's the lucky one who got that guy to finally live a little…”

It’s known to those around him that Nanami liked to keep to himself, even in matters outside of his work. There’s no need to mix business with pleasure—especially in his line of occupation where there’s no guarantee on the good side of things or fulfilling false promises to people you care about. He’d much rather keep the two separate, going to Jujutsu Tech and taking care of missions in a timely methodology as a grade one sorcerer and wind down in the comfort of his leisure time or home before repeating the process the next day. 

However, tonight would be one of those rare nights where he’d go elsewhere to mellow down…at someone else’s request, such as the person who messaged him to meet at a hotel and the one behind the door he knocks on before it’s opened.

You enter his vision with a grin. “There you are; I almost thought you didn’t get my text.”

“I did,” Nanami took off his goggles and stuffed them in his pockets. “Did you wait long?”

“Too long,” your hands are placed on his chest and slide to his sunken cheeks to cup. “I guess it’s better late than never, but you know I don’t like wasting my time, especially since you’re the one who summoned me.”

He brings a hand to yours to kiss your palm, and chocolate brown eyes pair with a tiny smirk. “Is it too late to make up for my tardy?”

Your smile grows broader with hooded eyes, and your face inches closer to his. “That depends on how fast your fine ass can get inside the damn room,” you whisper before claiming his lips, a spark between you two ignited within milliseconds.

The fair-headed man wastes no time, leading you back inside the hotel room and closing the door with his foot. Hands are instantly roaming each other’s bodies, yours undoing his tie and discarding it with his blazer while he unbuttons your blouse to slide down your shoulders and meet the floor, same with your pencil skirt. With his lips still locked on yours, Nanami gently lies you by the edge of the bed, spreading your stocking legs for more access to hover above you. Lust has your smooches driven for a needier connection, tongues invading each other’s cavity, and your legs wrapping around him as he rocks his hips to your figure.

You’re the first to break the kiss, biting his bottom lip with a tease. He sighs, “Is that fast enough for you?”

He makes you titter. “So attentive, aren’t you? But you know I want more than these nice lips to play with.”

Oh, he knows. Trust and believe, he does. 

“Ahhshhh…! Damn…feel so good, love.”

He throws his head back to the pillow, savoring the sense of your tongue lapping around the crown of his erect cock. His pants were now off of him, you mounted atop him, your ass facing his way while his groin was arranged before your face. 

His view was downright taken over with the sight of your butt and lacy panties swaying from side to side, all the while you were kissing and sucking on the skin of his dick. Your hands move to please him, one stroking his shaft in your grasp while the other fondles his balls with your pretty fingertips.

You suck on his cockhead and release with a soft ‘pop,’ his groan sweet to your eardrums. “Gosh, baby, you sound so pent up,” more licks to his glans jerk his hips, even when the kneads to his scrotum become firmer for the hand on your waist to get tighter. “Loosen up for me; I’ve been craving you like crazy all week...”

“Hnnmm, I can say the same for you, sweetheart,”eyes fixate on your underwear as he slides them to reveal your bare cunt. Seeing a trail of your excitement stick and glisten is no shock. “You seem to be tense yourself,” he brings a forefinger to your labia to lube with your excess fluid, and you hum with a bitten lip as he inserts the digit inside you to wiggle and scrape around. “Feel like it, too.”

“Hooooh,” You don’t hold back a moan—no need when indulging with this man. “Ahhh shit, yess, right there…”

“Yeah? You like this, baby?” He curls the finger with every pull before the push; your wails are too cute not to push for more. “Feels good?”

“Nnmmm…you know what would feel even better?” You peer over your shoulder, your orbs meeting mocha ones as you nudge him with the hit of your toes. “Shutting up and using that handsome face of yours.” Your batted, innocent eyes don’t match the vulgar display of your hips in front of Nanami. Yet he doesn’t scold you, just accepting you with a chuckle while pulling you in. A shiver dances up your spine at the contact of his wet muscle on your chasm, stirs to your clit, and nestling between your folds powers the desire. 

“Ohhh, yesss, just like that, Ken,” you praise before hallow cheeks take in his dick back into your mouth. Muffled sounds of contentment are felt on his cock, and it only pushes him to ravage your sensitive area even more.

However, this is nothing compared to the real deal moments later. 

Nanami knows how much you love to be in control—he’s been with you enough to understand that you’re serious when you need your fix. So, he has no room to refute you when you tie his hands above his head with his necktie and straddle above his lying frame. Yet again, no complaints came from the blonde man. After all, he is the one who has you here in the first place.

He lays on the bed, moaning below as you bounce up and down on his pelvis. For the second time that night, you were riding him down to the point, shrilling euphorically as your hips did the work for your satisfaction. You’re in complete control of the scene: the pace, the speed, the angle, the entire show. 

You lean forward, and the angle and motion of your lower region frequent the presses of your clitoris. “Fuuuhick, ohhhshiiit…!”

Neat golden hair is now untidy; strands cover and stick to his forehead. But that doesn’t obstruct the erotic view of you plunging his length into your aching slit, which has him swallowing thickly with a heated face. “Hnngh! Shit, so tight...”

“Haaaah, ahahaaa, feelin’ good, Kento?” You tease, leaning backward to clamp onto his girth. His dick rubs on the upper wall of your vagina and brushes to your G-spot resulting in your howling. “—Ooohhh, my God, yessss!” There’s no way you wouldn’t be clenching on him like crazy like this!

Makeshift bondage be damned, the man can’t help but buck his pelvis with your movements; the snug of your walls around him are difficult to resist and fuel him to chase the orgasm he’s been wanting all this time, and he can only thank for the condom that shields you from each other’s bare touch—or else his patience would’ve worn thin the round before. 

It’s borderline torture to watch you finger your clit and milk him with his hands bound; he wishes to touch you so badly. And you can see right through him, tittering as you come to a stop and remove yourself from him. He groans at the cold feeling of the air, substituting your warmth. However, that’s changed when you bend to untie his hands and get off his legs.

“C’mon, Kento,” you wet your lips, lying on your back and pulling your legs up. Knees to your chest and your wet cunt instigating an invitation. “Your turn to take care of me.”

God, you were intoxicating, your words making him hot in that dress shirt of his. That’s why he sighs with a scoff as he unbuttons to let his chest and abdomen breathe, aligning his length to join you again.

“I’ll do just that, love.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.