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j2hoes · 5 months ago

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Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.”

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’.

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor.

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man.

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid.

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders.

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.”

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?”

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat.

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole.

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.”

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fluff #strangers things imagine #Steve Harrington x fem #Steve Harrington fanfiction #stranger things au #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve harrington x female reader smut

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sammybeann · 4 months ago

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So there's been a lil interest in me continuing this lil guy, so I've decided to make it a whole ass fic. So enjoy the filler chapter for now, as I have COVID and have lost my will to live. I promise it'll get more delicious, though, and we'll dial creep!Dean up to 100.

So what if Sam gets injured on a hunt, tossed around like a ragdoll by an angry vengeful spirit and smacks his pretty little head hard against a concrete wall?

Dean ends up finishing the spirit out, but Sammy is out fucking cold so he has little choice but to take him to the hospital.

Finally, Sam wakes up and Dean's relief is immediate and immense, and that was until Sam made eye contact, glossy, confused hazel eyes meeting Dean's before asking "who the hell are you? Where am I?!"

The doctor comes in before Dean can answer, shooing the older Winchester out of the room so he can assess Sam's condition.

Minutes felt like hours before the doctor emerged from the room, his brows furrowed as he explained to Dean that it appeared Sam was suffering from a pretty bad case of amnesia, only remembering certain events in his life, but had no recollection of people, unable to name off any family members or friends. And though his physical injuries would heal and he'd be okay, he wasn't sure Sam would ever recover his memories.

When Dean re-emerged into Sam's room, he was met once again with an apprehensive look from the baby brother who once looked up at him with stars in his eyes instead of caution.

After some prying, Dean had come to learn Sam knew his own name, remembered Stanford but nobody there, and mentioned memories of creatures and monsters, but still had no idea who the rough looking man in a dirty leather jacket with blood from Sam's head wound still on his hands was.

"So, who are you, anyway?" He asked for the second time.

Before he could really think about it, fight with the devil and angel on his shoulder on whether or not he should betray Sam's trust like this, cross a line he'd never be able to come back from, the words already left his mouth.

"I'm your husband," he told Sam, who's eyebrows shot up comically high. "I...uh... we've been together since we were teenagers. Got married last year, the whole nine. We...we don't wear rings 'cause those monsters you talked about - they're real. We kill 'em."

Sam went white as a ghost. It wasn't as if this man was unattractive, and sure, he had been curious about the other sex growing up but he never thought he'd actually settle down with a whole ass man. There was also the news of the supernatural, sending a shock to his already overwhelmed system.

"I...I don't...monsters, really? How the fuck am I supposed to kill monsters?! How am I married?! Oh, God. What am I supposed to do?!" An exasperated Sam exclaimed, big, watery doe eyes staring up at Dean, looking at him like he was his lifeline now, like Dean was his God that could fill in all the gaps for him.

Guilt bubbled up inside Dean's chest, ugly and festering, but damn if that look from Sam didn't make it all worth it. He had his baby brother on a hook now, dependent and reliant on the only person he had.

Dean bent down and ran a hand through Sam's mop of hair, leaning in to press a firm kiss against his forehead.

"Hey, s'okay, baby. I'm here. I'll take care of you," he mumbled against Sam's clammy skin. "I got you."

Yeah, there was no was Dean wasn't going to hell for this, especially when Sam reached out to grab Dean's wrist, pulling his hand down to rest his cheek against Dean's callused palm.

"Okay," Sam whispered brokenly. "I trust you."

#Drabble #Dean being a creep #Taking advantage #Wincest #Sam and Dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #Not my best work but I needed to get this out into the world #Samdean #wincest fic #Update #Tee writes #Be gentle on me I haven't written a fic in over 8 years lmfao #Spn fic #Wincest fic #Creep!Dean #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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444st4rg1rl · 5 months ago

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Roomies

18+ , 5.5k words

tags : roommate!reader, female!reader, sorta sidekick!reader, roommate!Logan, roommate!Wade, Best Friend!Wade, enemies to lovers, harsh words, very tiny angst, smut, oral sex (f) , unprotected p in v, fingering (f), cursing.

a/n: I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, also small spoilers to Deadpool & Wolverine.

The one where you fucking hate your new roommate, but shit he’s also kinda hot.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“You think Murdock is willing to take a roommate?

Wade has made himself comfortable in his bed in his room, the one out of two rooms in his apartment that is housing three people. It was nice when it was just you and Wade, best buds, partners in crime, pookie and shookie. Whatever the fuck, it had always been you and Wade. Now it’s you, Wade and Logan. Possibly the worst fucking addition to the duo. Doesn’t he know there is always a duo in a trio?

“Gasp! Is it because of the smell? Because pookie no where deep in reddit told me how to clean up-”

You put your hand up to stop him, face full of confusion yet the sheer idea of whatever Wade has to say next kills the curious cat roaming in your thoughts. You lean on his door frame - the doors not fully open out of fear but it’s enough to not want to step foot deep in the room - and closed enough for your eyes to be saved from the atrocity he was talking about.

“Wade, please, I can’t fucking take it anymore I am fucking loosing it. I can’t even get water without seeing that sad sack of shit mopping on our fucking couch! It’s sad, Wade, if you loved me you'd kick him out.”

The childish ultimatum is dumb but maybe the puppy dog eyes you have going on as you stare at Wade big eyed and faux sadness. Overall this is childish of you, to beg your best friend to kick out the guy who just had to fucking help you save the world seems pathetic and rude of you. But who gives a fuck? Logan is rude, an arrogant asshole, a prick, douche, down-under fucker. He is the worst hero? you have had the displeasure of meeting. But no, God strikes you down on your hatred of this old man once more; he makes him hot.

“How could you say that about a war veteran?”

The sarcasm combined with Wade talking to Mary Puppins like a baby rather than looking at you, has you wishing Cassandra killed you herself back when she had the chance. It was interesting to say the least, getting thrown into a rag team with Wade and being told to save the multiverse was not your usual mission but hey, money is money. That wasn’t really your style, the whole big hero sham. Vigilante, mercenary, the people's people, too hot to handle, now that’s just one big umbrella term you’d throw yourself under. You met Wade when he wasn’t deadpool and you were some weird eighteen year old who was a little too good with knives and way too lucky to be alive. It felt natural then and there to just fall under his wing and have him throw you out there, figuratively and literally (there was the 32 floor incident and the scars to prove it). Your thankful for it even if it means some scars and permanent migraine because twenty-three year old you now has the confidence to throw a kitchen knife that was embedded in the wall next to you- right into Wades head and slam the door shut, something eighteen year old would have hesitated to do at first.

“Nice clothes ya got there, Bub.”

Logan’s deep voice rattles through your system, spiking your nervous system higher than it normally is around him, (usually very high). You spin around from Wade’s door, the curse you had ready to drip off your tongue is gathered right back into your mouth after you get a look at him. Tall, dark, so big and strong; the words Karen Page had uttered to you the first time she saw Logan after you and Wade had brought him around the group you guys converse in. The words that had haunted you at night, the nights where you catch him and Wade fighting and his massive arms are on display for you to shamelessly stare at or the nights where you curse what God you might have pissed off in your past multiverses that put your very thin bedroom wall right next to the shower wall. Hearing The Wolverine, the one that you had read in comics growing up, untouchable and badass Wolverine, was the one you heard bite down on his knuckles to quiet down his deep groans as he got himself off in the shower. You close your eyes to regain what you were gonna say and look at Logan.

“Thanks, go fuck yourself.”

You turn to make the small trek to your room, looking down at clothes Logan had chosen to comment on. An oversized and stretched t-shirt that has Spider-man's logo on it, the shirt long enough to reach your thighs so like always you for-go the pants. You're not gonna change your comfiness for one person who decided to be a roach in your living room.

Logan’s large hand on your wrist is what gets your anger sparking as he stops you from entering your room.

“Can I fucking help you?”

Harsh words cut through your mouth as you remove your wrist from his hand, if you were to miss the warmth it provided, then well that’s later you in your bed problem.

“Are you going with Wilson tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, a day job that you and Wade had picked up, some bullshit, go kill this person,yadda yadda, and here's the money. The main reason you're so excited? A day away from him.

You don’t even bother to say yes, you nod your head at him, open your door, stare at him, ignore the smirk, and slam the door. Wait why the fuck did he make that face?

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Now, to be truthful you should have pushed back against Logan last night. Yelled and pushed for a fight on why did he care where you were going, why did he make that face at you. You really should have, instead you chose peace. Now you live with violence in the present. Your suit clings too tight to you right now and one of your knives is digging into your thigh and oh, fucking Logan is apparently is coming. There goes any excitement you had about the day trip away from the bastard. You give Wade the silent treatment in the apartment, on the way to the car, during his shameful ‘Careless Whisper’ performance in the car and halfway to the mission. Wade drives, it’s an amusing site to watch the rather large man sit in the driver seat of the 2008 Nissan Rogue (Hondas hold too much PTSD for the group). You make yourself comfortable in the passenger and try to tune out Logan seating himself in the back.

Wade leans over, not subtly, and puts a hand cupping around his masked mouth and whispers rather loudly-

“Is this because I washed your suit too tight? Or is it your allergy to cheap soaps? I know your skin is bougie, bestie.”

You're going to kill him, you and Logan. You go to grab at the stickshift in the center console to fuck up the car but Wade knows you to well and already has a hand on the stick shift. Hearing Logan chuckle has you moving quickly. A gun is pressed right to the center of his unfortunately gorgeous forehead and taking off the safetyas you make direct eye contact with him.

“I will fucking pull the trigger right now.”

“Ya know you won’t Bubs, you're too much of a pussy for that.”

The familiar nickname sends a shiver down your spine, and a heat you're too known with through the lower parts of you but the anger from his doubting overshines like usual, intrusively you unbuckle your seat belt and jump in the back seat and pistol whip Logan across the face.

Bad choice

Logan stares at you as the gash from the pistol is rapidly repairing itself but the bloody evidence makes itself permanent on his face. He’s quick to act, unbuckling his seatbelt and going to launch himself at you.

You don’t have any fancyshamchy powers of that sort, you heal fast, just like the other two in the car but not that fast, maybe a day or two. And you're lucky, one would call it a power and someone wouldn’t. But fuck your lucky you avoid Logans fast coming fist towards your head. You duck and lean back on the seat kicking your feet out to hit him in the stomach. He gets pushed back and his head hits the widow opposite of you hard and loud. The site has you cackling, from your view as your half laid down on the seat and one leg half up and the other hanging off the seat. Logan’s broad body is pushed up against the window. Your cackling comes to a yelp as Logan is quick to pounce on you. His large body pins yours down to the seat. One arm is quick to grab your hands, capturing them in one hand that he brings above your head. His other arm across your throat pressing down hard enough to cut off your air supply.

You blame the lack of air for the thought that pushes through your mind, the sight of him above you right now all furious and heated. His thick forearm heavy on your throat should have you kicking him immediately off you but you falter. The worst part? Logan notices. You're a second to late for your normal reaction time. You watch in slight horror as Logan realizes this above you.

“Hey! Are you guys fucking back there? Listen I know where in the middle of enemies to lovers fanfic but C’MON!”

For fucking once Wade decided to be useful these past two days, you ignore his spewing but Logan seems distracted. You get the high ground and kick him off, shoving a baby knife into his neck and scrambling your ass back into the front seat by Wade. As you adjust yourself back into your seat, the feeling of hot slick between your thighs has become a rather uncomfortable problem that has aroused. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and make the mistake of catching Logan’s eyes in the rearview mirror and he gives you a sideways glance. Fuck, fucking mutants, fucking weird senses, fucking dog boy.

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If Logans being truthful, he never hated you. Hate’s too strong of a word, he does although despise you. Loathe, detest, revulse, abhorrence, those are the words Logan would use if someone asked him to describe his feelings towards you. The annoying girl who had saved the world with him and who he shares an apartment with. The very annoying girl who he wants to pummel into the ground, and then into a bed.

Since the whole ‘we saved the universe now we gotta go back to New York and hey I guess you can come with us’ has happened to him has tested his patience.

It’s rough adjusting to a new life let alone a new fucking universe and she makes it no better. Logan truly wants to hate her the way he portrays, he wonders if she gets tired of arguing all the time. Being so uptight and rude twenty-four seven, to have anger vibrate through her bones. Every conversation they had is laced with malice.

“Why the fuck are you in my fridge.” - “I didn’t realize you owned the whole fridge, girl.’

“You're a reckless waste of space, I'm surprised Cassandra failed to kill you.” - “Ain’t yo whole team dead cause of you?”

“You sure Wilson’s just not pitying you, Bubs?” - “How are you over two hundred years old and you still can’t pull bitches?”

She’s quick-witted, sharp tongued and annoyingly gorgeous. The moment Logan laid his eyes on you, he felt his blood spike faster to his heart and his dick. Pretty young girl covered in blood holding a 9 mm, he was enamored, then you opened your mouth and it was a wrap (discreet wrap). Hating you publicly and his shower thoughts is what he had lived by for the past two months yet here he sits now in the back of the car, Wades shitty pop playlist blasting, and the image of you pinned underneath of him with your big wide eyes staring up at him is burned into his head. You faltered, he saw it himself the way you went lax and the way you liked it. He’s not stupid, he bluntly watches as you push your way out from under and throw yourself back into the passenger seat. He can’t control it but he smells you, the way you have to squeeze your thigh together to get some relief.

It sends him into a frenzy as he catches your glazed eyes in the rearview mirror, he curses himself as he feels his blood rush and his cock hardens in his suit. Fuck

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You're sure Wade is the only person who enjoyed the mission, the only part you enjoyed is the fat wad of cash that was pushed into your hand. The three of you shuffle into the car that is somehow still standing. The three of you all covered in various contrivances along with Wade's now missing left arm. The car getting stained with every movement mixed with the hot interior is worse than a crowded hallway in highschool. You roll your window down and let the cool air soothe over your skin like a new layer of skin.

“I can’t believe those perverted bastards took my arm! Hope they like jerking their dicks off with sandpaper because…’’ Wade’s nonsense lulls you to a slumber that makes you ache less.

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You're a loudmouth, not as bad as Wade but you need your fix of arguing and winning. Which is what has you standing at your door thinking hard before you open it.

Logan’s ignoring you, well, you're also ignoring him. You’ve both been trying to pretend the other doesn’t exist as one can in a 15x10 apartment layout. Just start some shit, call him fucking lazy or ugly. You psych yourself up ready to start the argument and win. The door opens and there you go sauntering out of it in your big t-shirt and no pants. Logan makes a quick glance towards your direction but otherwise seems preoccupied on the television in front of him . You stand in the kitchen behind him mouth agape as you struggle to think of the words, angrily you grab water and return back to your room.

This keeps happening, you and Logan keep avoiding each other, not more than sparing a glance. Of course, it’s Wade who says something. He catches you as you're in your room and Logans of and about in New York.

“So did the Big Bad Wolf really eat your grandma, huh?”

“I'm gonna make you eat your grandma.”

“Kinky, but my grandma was a fierce woman.” He launches himself onto your bed and grabs your fluffy throw pillow to hold, Mary Puppins trailing in after Wade. “But seriously pookie, this is odd behavior for you two. Y’know you guys are usually like cats and dogs after each other. Oh! You think the song ‘It’s Raining Men’ took into consideration ‘it's raining cats and dogs out”…....

“I hear Logan jerk off in the shower”

You're not completely sure why that's the first thing you say to Wade, but it shuts him up. He stares at you comically before he loudly gasps and goes to cover Mary Puppins ears before excitedly staring at you. If he wasn’t horrifically scarred you could almost compare him to a teen girl right now.

“Sexual Tension! You have to fuck The Wolverine!”

You stare at Wade like he just said he was never going to shoot again.

“The fuck are you spewing about?”

You have no other choice but to listen to Wade spew about how to fix all your problems you have to fuck Logan. You get up as Wade is on his second speech on how to suck dick 101, you push him out of your room and depressingly stare at your wall before you realize.

“Fuck!”

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After your conversation with Wade it's all that plagues your mind. The way the veins pop in his arms, how his chest looks in his wife beater. The dog tags that hand around his neck, you want to fall in front of your face and then choke him out. It catches up to you finally, after all you still share a kitchen with him. It's awkward, more awkward then a teen boy confessing his crush, it's kinda awkward where a two hundred year old mutant and a twenty three year old something of the sorts have a mutual hatred but sexual deviance of the other.

It’s one-thirty four at night when you and Logan run into each other. You're grabbing a glass of water and he's sitting at the small Island nursing a beer.

“Ya hate me so much Bubs you had to lock yourself away?”

You glare at him, eyes following the way he laughs at his own sentence and how his lips close around the top of his beer. You move your eyes up to catch his already glaring at you. You rack your mind to what to say, to embarrass him.

“Bathroom walls are thin ya know, Old man.”

Got him. He freezes as he sets down his beer on the counter before continuing to stare at you, you smile at your upperhand in this.

“Don’t know why you wanna piss me off so bad Old man, that's the only way you get it up?”

Low blow, but who cares. You certainly don’t as you watch as he racks his brain to say something. You beat him to it again.

“Why don’t you get yourself something nice, a bar, club, something. Or has it been too long for you to try anything with civilization?”

He stands up and fuck if he ain’t tall. You watch as he makes the small space in between you, he stands at his full. You reach about his shoulder so you have to lift your head to stare at him, he’s already staring down at you with a gleam in his eye. One of his hefty arms comes down on the counter behind you, caging you. His other arm rests by his side, an escape route if you still have the shreds of your dignity that tells you to leave, go back to your room and go to sleep. Yet Logan tilts his head at you and watches as his lips curl into a smirk.

“Harsh accusations from someone-”

His words are cut off as you put a hand to cover his mouth, you just know he’s going to mention the moment in the car. Your chest are pressed together as you keep your hand tight around his mouth. Your eyes are filled with something akin to embarrassment but something else.

“Shut it. That was a moment of weakness.”

Logan grabs your hand that's covering his mouth and holds it tightly in his hand, it’s when you don’t jerk your hand back that Logan cages you in with both arms. There goes my dignity.

“Yeah Bubs, moment of weakness. That's why you've been avoiding me like the plague huh?” He comes closer to your face, one large hand sneaking up to grip at your chin. “Scared you might like it?”

No fucking way. You feel how your heart stops in your chest, how all you can do is have your eyes scan over his face. You push your thighs together in some relief from the feeling of molten lava being run through your system down to your panties. You lean your face closer to him. You grip your fingers hard in the marble counter behind you. Trying to hold on to whatever last bit of anger that is spurring through your body.

“Didn’t you avoid me too huh? Don’t point fingers.”

It’s like it was a trigger that switched something inside of him. The hand that had been caging you in is holding your waist in a grip so taut you could feel the fingertip indents forming. Logan seizes your chin again, a quicker way to shut you up.

“Fuck ya want me to, huh?” He leans his large figure down to be only inches away from each other's faces. The scowl on his face shouldn’t send a thrill down your body but any shreds of sensible thoughts have been thrown out the window moments before. Logan watches you intently, he sees how you have a remark ready to spit at him like poison.

“I’ve watched you parade yourself around this fucking apartment like this-” he grips the edge of the long t-shirt your wearing “-and I had to do nothing about it.”

You should bunch up your shoulder, fight back, but it seems any of your usual inhibitions are clawed away when it comes to Logan. You're a simple girl at heart, your eyes catch how thick the arms that are encasing you and the moment the idea you want them to hold you while he rams from the back is when you give up any thoughts that are holding you back.

“Why don’t you do something now?”

It’s ballsy but it’s worth it for the way you can see Logan squint his eyes and push himself harder against you, the cold counter pushed into your back a small relief to your hot skin. His hand gripping your chin goes down to match the equally harsh grip on your waist. The shitty dim light from the kitchen overhead shadows over Logan perfectly, light defining the muscles that are being pulled taunt in his neck and shoulders. He drops his head to have lips brush over your ear.

“I hear ya too, in your room. How those fucking fingers of yours aren’t enough, you wish that was me instead huh, Bubs?” His last words come out breathy with a hint of a chuckle falling off his lips. He drops his head on your shoulder and you feel your body run hot at the amount of contact. “Fuck, I could smell ya in there all the fucking time. Knew you hear me through the walls, girl.”

You tilt your head slightly letting your plush lips ghost over his ear like he did moments ago.

“This doesn’t change anything, you're arrogant, egotistical and an asshole.”

Logan lifts his head confused at your words before you grab his face into your hands, a laughable size difference, and push his lips onto yours. He catches on quickly moving his lips against yours rather harshly, having a hand slide to your neck to keep you in place, the other hand pushing you against him. You groan at the feeling of his hardened cock pressed up by your upper thigh. It’s quick and rough with him, the way he grabs at your skin and handles you.

His calloused hands reach under your thighs and grunts out a ‘jump’ and that's exactly what you do. Letting your thighs hit the cold counter is a burn relief on your burning thighs. His lips run down from your lips to your neck, his beard rubbing against your skin has you throwing your head back into the cabinets that rest behind you. His hands knead your plush thighs and you pull at his hair tufts and he groans into your neck.

He pulls away completely leaving you a confused mess. You must look like a sight, shirt falling off one shoulder and bunching at your waist. Hair a wreck framing your face and your kiss swollen lips. You go to mumble out a disoriented ‘what’ but Logans already grabbing at the undersides of your thighs and you're pulled into his arms. His fingertips grip into the backs of your thighs leaving bruises in their wake, you take the advantage to run your hands down his tank top clad shoulders and chest feeling the hard muscle ripple under your touch.

“Say it.”

You stare at him slightly confused as he sets you down on your bed, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs. He’s looking at you so earnestly it almost hurts.

“Say what, Logan?” You lean back on your arms before deciding on gaining a surge of confidence. You grab at the edge of your shirt and rip it over your head. Free the nipple and all that but thank fuck is all you think. It’s like a reward watching his eyes land on your bare chest and the way his breath hitches. You pull him down by his tank top. “I want you Logan.”

The reaction is spontaneous, he’s leaning back and taking his tank top off from the hem behind his neck. You crawl back onto your bed and he follows you, in this state you could ask him to follow you to any universe and he would. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down back to your lips, his hands gliding smoothly over your torso before he grabs one of your tits in hand and pulls harshly at your nipple. He does it again on the other nipple after he hears the gasp that comes out your mouth. He moves his kissed lips down from your lips to your neck. You catch the image, his massive body crowding yours, a shield from the outside world. His lips detach from the purple hazing mark starting to form on your neck and attach his lips to one of your taut nipples while kneading the other one. You snake your hands into his hair and pull. Into the spank bank box.

It’s when his lips start trailing down your tits to your stomach, kissing and playing with the plush skin before he kisses around your thigh. Teasing on purpose, avoiding where you need him the most. He lets his thumbs enter the hem of your painties before he looks back at you.

“You know how long I’ve waited to be here, baby?”

“Then show me, c’mon”

Logan pulls your painties off so slowly it should be a crime but with how he kisses your pussy like it’s a prize bails him out. His arms wrap around your thighs to give him better access, a forearm going across your stomach to hold you down like you're in the wrong for squirming. He licks up and down your pussy and fuck it makes you angry how good he is at it. His tongue teasing your hole and you whimper, you pull at his hair tufts and he looks at you, his eyes are teasing and his mouth and chin are covered in your juices. He maintains eye contact as he moves his lips over to your clit and sucks, he keeps his mouth closed around the bundle and watches how you moan and squirm under him. He removes one arm from around your waist to thrust a single finger into your tight hole. He doesn’t make a remark on the gasp but pulls up for where he was and stops his movement.

“Stop fucking moving, c’mob be good for me, Bubs.”

The words have you melting into your sheets as you try to stop your brash movements. The combination of the second finger he added and his tongue working wonders on your sensitive clit has your stomach forming that familiar knot. You grab at one of his arms to signal him but he doesn’t relent.

“Gonna cum ,gonna cum, Fuck!”

“I know Bubs let it out, yeah just like that baby.”

He sits up for where he was laying down, your body still spread out for him as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm. You trail your hand down his toned and muscular abs to his jean buttons, slowly undoing the button and the zipper. Logan looks down at you with a growing smirk on his face as he finishes the job of pulling his pants a little down his thighs.

“Ya want something, girl? Ya gotta get it.”

You push yourself up onto your knees as he stands at the edge of your bed, shoving down his boxers, his cock bounces to his stomach, a flush coating the tip as pearly white precum beads out. You take his cock in hand, salivating over the happy trail in your view. You pump his cock a few times before you lean in and kiss the tip. You're a few kitten licks deep before he pulls your head back and shakes his head.

“Another time, girl. I’ve been waiting too long to be inside of you.”

You groan and fall back, letting your legs spread for the man you hate so much. He adjusts himself in between your legs trying to make space for his large figure. He looks down at you, one hand on his cock and the other on your thigh, holding it up to his waist. He strokes at your calf in a fond way, maybe a ‘sorry i'm about to wreck your pussy.’

He lines himself up and swipes his cock head through your folds, letting his head hand forward from the feeling. You wrap both legs around his colossal waist in an attempt to have him sheath himself fully inside you. He laughs from above you and lines his fat tip against your hole. Sliding himself inch by inch, you look down and he’s only half way in and it’s too full. He tries to push in more and you whine, throwing your head back and putting your hands on his chest. He takes a hand and grabs one of your hands on his chest and sheaths himself fully inside of you.

“Yeah Bub? Too much?”

It’s cocky how he laughs above you, laughing at your whining. You shift your hips under him trying to get comfortable. His eyes watching your every move, you kick his thigh, for being cocky and a signal to move. He puts a forearm by your head and another on the thigh wrapped around the waist. He starts slowly moving his hips thrusting in and out.

“Really Old man, c’mon let loose.”

“You don’t want me to do that, baby”

You roll your eyes from under him, you shove at his shoulders and have him fall on to his back. He stays snug inside you as you adjust yourself on top of him, watching as he gives you a one over, both his hands gripping the fat on your hips. You start lifting your thighs up and down, putting your hands on his chest making an excuse to feel on those godly abs. The grunts he gives from under you are spurring you on despite the burn in your thighs.

Logan is a simple man, he watches the lewd faces you make as you lean forward, your tits caught between your arms as you bounce your thighs on him. He lets you do your own thing, admiring you. But the primal urge is stronger, he grabs at your hips and fucks up into you. His cock moving at rapid speed thrusting in and out of from under, you keep yourself up on this chest. Your cockdrunk on him. The feeling of him fucking into you is making you dumb, you let your tits press to his chess and attempt to kiss him. You're more so moaning into his mouth than kissing him. You let him switch places, manhandling you onto your knees. He practically mounts you like a dog in heat , his chest pressed against back. He’s got his forearm pressed to your collarbones, hand on your throat, his other hand reaches down to rub at your clit. Your a moaning mess, to fucked out to care about anything. Your whines of Logan's name has him thrusting harder into. He leans his head on your shoulder turning towards your ear.

“Yeah, you close baby, I can feel it. It’s okay Bubs, I'm here, let it out. Cum on this dick Bub.”

You let his words wash over you, coaxing you into your second orgasm. He fucks you through it, before he stills his thrust. You grab his arm- “Inside, cum inside”- he lets out a groan that rattles in your chest and shoots hot ropes of cum inside. Logan adjusts you both to lay down, your upper half on his chest, his half hard cock still cum deep in your pussy. You're tempted to fall asleep at this until Logan opens his mouth.

“Still hate me, baby?”

You smack his chest not bothering to get up. You let yourself lay on his chest, grabbing your comforter and pulling it up to your chest, the blanket falling around his waist.

“You're still in jeans, on my bed.”

“I'll take em off for round two”

You don’t say anything just letting the both of you bask in the silence, Logan’s playing with your hair. It’s nice, up and until you hear the front door open. You brace yourself.

You forgot to lock the door, and in comes Wade.

“What the FUCK balls, without me, seriously?”

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #x men #x men x reader #x reader #female reader #he's so sexy it hurt #enemies to lovers #Logan

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suhkusa · 6 months ago

Text

EGOIST 12.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort-esque, trauma, smut, dry-humping, make-out, dubcon (both have alcohol in system)

A/N. oh thats not

-> MASTERLIST.

“Stay,”

Your voice is wobbly and weak. There’s silent tears flowing down your face. Even so, Atsumu feels nothing but rage. He can’t console you, no.

“please,”

He wants to go, to rip his hand away from yours. To find that asshole and beat him down. Your eyes are pleading with him.

“Y-You can’t even do anything, it’d be bad for you,” for your career. He knows.

Which is why he reluctantly sits back down, but also why the menacing look on his face is yet to fade.

“Fuck,” he stresses, running his hand through the middle of his hair.

He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset. Is it because you’re hurt? Is it because someone got to you before he did? His head hurts with these thoughts. Mostly because he just doesn’t know.

Atsumu watches as you lay back down. Hiccupping as you bury your face back into the pillow.

You make everything so fucking confusing. He’s supposed to hate you. He wants to. Every day he plans on being angry, to ignore you. But as soon as he sees you, it feels like all those walls crumble down, and he ends up being the one who wants to be noticed by you.

It’s gross. He doesn’t want to date you. Doesn’t think so at least. He doesn’t even like you like that. Maybe Atsumu is just protective of you. Perhaps, he feels like he owes you for being so fucked up towards you for so long.

That’s definitely it.

At least that’s what he’ll continue to tell himself.

———

When you wake up, everything from the night prior is a blur. You were at a bar. You talked to someone. Then you were outside. Then you were in. Then you danced. Then Gora.

The only thing you did know was that you absolutely do not remember falling asleep with Atsumu Miya.

When you see the mop of blonde laid beside you, you instantly prop yourself up, a strong pain in your head following right after. You let a noise slip out, and curse you because a groan from the man beside you came right after.

You debate to slip out of bed, but before you’re able to, his voice catches you.

“Are you alright?”

The words catch you off guard, but yet they make you feel somber. You feel your face soften. He’s genuine.

“Um, yeah,” you look around, “why are you in bed with me?”

Atsumu looks confused. “Do you not—” he stops, “You asked me to, do you not remember?”

You shake your head no almost immediately.

His facial expressions look frantic, “Look, I’m sorry,” he moves to get up, “did you want to leave early? We don’t have to go today, we made our presence known enough,”

“No— it’s okay, I-I’m sorry,” you start, “You were just trying to help, right?”

He nods slowly, eyes reassuring you as much as they possibly can.

You sigh, untucking your legs and slipping out of the bed. “I’m gonna get ready,”

———

The two of you fall into this pattern throughout the day. Short responses, the nodding of the head. It’s as casual as casual gets.

And you feel okay with it.

You and your high school bully walking through a volleyball convention and chatting it up with other pretty famous men. Just where you imagined yourself being during high school.

It’s scary how easy it is to get through the day, it almost makes you forget what happened the day before. Luckily, Gora was nowhere to be seen. More like thankfully, though.

Before you know it, you find yourself alone with Atsumu at the bar.

“Are you ready for the playoffs?” he asks, playing with the rim of his cup.

“Mm,” you shrug, “I’m nervous but probably not as nervous as the rest of you,”

Atsumu nods, “Yeah, s’not the first rodeo for the majority of us, though,”

You laugh before noticing his face becoming more sad looking. You’re about to ask when he starts,

“So,” there’s a hesitant pause, “are you going to tell the coach what happened? Or- anyone?”

It takes you aback a bit, a lot, because not even you know. You remember vaguely what happened, but at the same time it feels like you can’t recall it precisely. Another thing is, who would believe you?

You’re almost nobody around here. He’s a D1 volleyball player with a career to live up to, while you’re just more or less a side character that isn’t relevant unless you were to google who the Jackal’s manager was. Which, maybe you wouldn’t even pop up still.

Not sure as to what to say, you give him a meek, “I don’t know,”

Atsumu nods at this, you can tell he wants to push, but instead he gives you a soft tap.

“Are you okay? Like genuinely,” he questions, “We don’t have to talk about it— but I’m here,”

It sucks because if it happened to you while you were alone, it’d be so much easier to cope with. But he was there too. He witnessed part of it, and even heard it from you firsthand in your drunken state.

But maybe you can take advantage of his kindness. Either way he already knows, holding back won’t change anything.

“Yeah, I’m whatever,” you mumble, “It’s partly my fault, I should’ve just listened to you,”

“It was not your fault. He’s just an asshole and if we happen to cross paths he’ll get what’s coming,” he’s angry as he says that.

You quickly shake your head, “Please don’t, that’s the last thing I need,”

Atsumu sighs before taking another sip from his cup, defeated. He takes in the forlorn look on your face, “Well then, do you want another round, or?”

You give it a quick thought before giving Atsumu a light smile, “Sure,”

———

It feels like it’s been a while since the last time you’ve been a “good drunk”. It seems like shit has always gone down every other time you’ve drank. But for once, the buzz is nice and light. It makes you smile uncontrollably as you make your way to the bed, face first into the comforter.

“Y/N, get your shoes off,” Atsumu calls from behind you, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it on the floor to set up his own little bed.

“Nooo,” you moan, flipping yourself over to stare at the ceiling.

Atsumu rolls his eyes before loosening the strap of your shoes so they easily roll off. “And your jacket, it’s hot,”

“Heelp,” you plead.

“Just do it,” he mutters, grabbing the spare blanket and adding it to his makeshift cushion on the ground.

You moan and groan, rolling around in bed to try and maneuver your jacket off. But to no avail. You feel sweaty until two big hands help work your arms out of the sleeves. His face is way closer than you remember, he was feet away from you but now you feel his breath waft down your chin.

Your mind is trying to tell you to go, to stop. Deep down you know you shouldn’t be doing what you feel your body is about to do. Your eyes meet with his, and everything feels like slow motion. Way too slow.

This is Atsumu Miya. Your head is pleading and begging with you. But you can’t help it. His eyes meet yours, then trickle down to your lips, then back up to you again.

Then his lips meet yours before you even know what’s going on. You’re not sure if you initiated or if he did. All you can tell is that the kiss is hot and warm. It’s not like him at all. It feels like kissing him makes you forget about all of the past.

Atsumu slides his hand to your waist, his thumb soothing the skin in the area. Your hand has a mind of its own as it reaches to the back of his head, grabbing a tuft of it and pulling him impossibly closer.

He uses the hand on your waist to guide himself to your heat. He’s hard.

“Atsumu-,” you start, breathing hard as you try to catch it.

“We don’t have to,” he cuts you off, eyes genuine as he looks into your own, “this is only if you want to,”

The scary part is that part of you wants to. You’ve already gone this far, and you can feel yourself heating with the want for relief.

All you’re able to muster is a nod to him to continue. And he does.

He guides his clothed length along the wetness of your panties, rubbing himself against it.

A noise nearly slips out of you as the friction rubs against your clit. Your hands grab harshly at him wherever they can, pulling him closer into another kiss. It’s messy and noises slip out of you into him.

All your senses are heightened, on end. Your mind is so befuddled you can’t produce any coherent thoughts, just him.

His pace against you quickens, and you squeal as you cum, soaking your panties and coating the outer layer of his slacks. Atsumu is shortly behind you, releasing all over himself.

“Fuck,” he groans, head limp in defeat.

Your climax causes you to sober up, your eyes fixated on the mess between your legs. You’re scared because you definitely shouldn’t have that.

It’s unprofessional and most importantly, it was with Atsumu.

You can feel the beat of your heart quicken with anxiety. He notices this, using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

“We can forget about this, alright?” he starts, “what happened in this room will stay here,”

All you manage is a nod.

“Let’s get cleaned up and sleep since we have to be up early. I’ll sleep on the floor again,” is what he leaves you with before lifting himself off you and heading to the bathroom.

As you lie there in the heat of your mistake, all you can think about is what you were going to do now.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu angst #haikyuu series #haikyuu atsumu series #atsumu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader angst #raeworks #atsumu fanfic #tw dubcon

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papasbaseball · 15 days ago

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The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 4

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,559 of 9,949

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AO3 Link

Making myself useful after Emily locks me into the Wizard's apartment proves to be useless. Everything has already been done for the day, all the sheets changed, the floors mopped, and even the baseboards dusted. I look to see if I can possibly organize anything else. All of his drawers and closets are meticulously kept, shirts stiffly starched and socks folded into soft green squares. The comb and brush set are still on the dresser, so I straighten them to be perpendicular to the edge of it. I sigh as I look around the room, finding nothing else to even be fussed over.

I have only ever been in a select few rooms of the apartments – mostly his bedroom and the dining room – and always to complete the same chores every day. There were other people above me in rank who had more access to the full apartment, but I was always so busy every day and so eager to get all of my scrubbing and folding done that I never bothered to seek out what had been off-limits to me. It already unnerved me touching the sheets he slept on, so why would I want to go snooping around? He doesn’t quite frighten me as much as he used to, I think.

The wizard's bedroom has other doors besides the one that Emily had brought me through. To the north, there is the hallway that leads to the servants' stairs and the dining room. Directly attached to the bedroom is a bathroom and another door that I have never opened. I always assumed that it was extra storage space for out-of-season clothes.

When I test the handle for this strange door, I can't help but let out a quiet gasp. It’s a study that is about as big as the bedroom I had originally been locked in, but with a ceiling that is pulled so far up into a spire that I cannot see where the chain starts for the sharp gold geometric chandelier. What the chandelier does illuminate are high walls lined with books. A mahogany desk stands to my right, piled high with papers and more books. I shut the door behind me to get a good look at this new and wonderous place, not wanting the Wizard to sneak up on me.

I roll my eyes thinking about how slinking about like a snake and scaring maids on his staff seemed to be his preferred method of arrival. “Maid”. There is a sadness that I feel as if a chip is carved out of me, the splinter of wood that could be labeled as "maid". I hadn't done anything today to help earn my keep here, and the memory of Emily dirty and sore from a day's work had only deepened this feeling of being lost. The best I could offer up in equal was that my legs and everywhere else still stung slightly from the wax strips that they had ripped off of me. I go to the disorganized papers and books on the desk, glad to have found at least some distraction.

There are red leather-bound account books and papers that have been folded in thirds. Looking around the room, I find no home for them, no filing system readily apparent. I open the drawers and find nowhere to put them in the desk either, just cold and sharp green pens, an inkpot, sealing wax, and paper. What I don't expect to find is a golden locket. I hold the small trinket in the palm of my hand, letting my skin warm the cold metal. Inside, there are incredibly realistic paintings of a woman and a man, washed of any colors. I stare at it trying to place why they look familiar when I hear a door opening.

"They are not due for payment for another 50 days," the Wizard says.

I quickly shut the locket, dropping it back in the drawer and shutting it closed, just in time for him to come through the door. Esmet and a man in a sharp suit that was too short in the waistcoat with his satin top hat in hand are close behind. I flatten myself against the wall of books behind the desk but realize I stick out like a sore thumb with my overexposed skin in the provocative dress. Despite this, none of them seem to pay me any attention, the Wizard sitting down at the desk, shuffling through papers, the two other men taking seats in emerald leather chairs that are dimpled with golden buttons.

"Sir," the man in the suit says, "you have to understand, the Emerald City has been late on their payments for lumber for the past three quarters."

"This… this is not part of the agreement," he says. There is a tone of irritation in his voice that makes me want to run for the door and back into the safety of the boring and already kempt rooms. "Matter of fact, there was no agreement. What more do they need besides money? It gets there when it gets there. I can't help it if the damned country is covered in mountains."

"Undoubtedly, the city would pay them, sir," the strange man says, tugging down his waistcoat, "but as ambassador, I am telling you that the chieftain has ordered no shipments to enter the Emerald City unless payment is made upon arrival."

"This shouldn't be a problem," Esmet says, shifting in his chair. "The Emerald City has more than enough money. We could pay for the shipment fifty times over if they wanted it."

"Oh, we have more than enough money," the Wizard says, waving off the notion. "It just seems to me that I am being strong-armed at my own front door. I don't like being strong-armed at my own front door, do you Mr. Ambassador?"

The man's words tumble out as if they had tied themselves into knots in his mouth. His hands are busy mangling the brim of his hat: flattening it, curling it back up, outright folding it in toward the lining.

The Wizard rises, hands gripping the edge of his desk as he stares the ambassador in the eye. He laughs, and it’s the unnerving one that is a warning before the pounce from the grass. "If I didn't know any better, this distrust... it's like... like the warning sign of a rebellion. It would be an overture to war."

"The chieftain has no want for war, sir," the man laughs nervously. Perhaps he was always sweating, but the chandelier hanging directly over him has illuminated the top of his head that only offers a barren combover in protection. He bears a striking resemblance to an ice sculpture in the market square under the hot sun.

"Oh... Oh no, of course not," the Wizard says. "No, that would be foolish, wouldn't it?" There is that smile on his face, the same one from last night that he had aimed at me. I feel suddenly naked again and look down to see my hands gripping fistfuls of my tulle skirt so tight that I could see the bones of my knuckles. Quickly, I drop the fabric, worrying about damaging it, only to find that my hands have been using it to steady a shake that coursed through them.

"Maybe it would be best if I could go back to the chieftain and explain how things look?" the man said. "We have no want for war."

The Wizard let go of the desk, stalking over to where I stood against the wall. I know the others must hear how my heart pounds against my bare breast out of the fear that somehow he will involve me in this awful conflict. My brain concocts a horrible image of me bound and gagged in exchange for the lumber for the city, shipped off on the back of some dirty horse, never to see my sister again. Instead of seizing me, he winds a finger through a tendril of hair that had come loose from my braids. I force myself to look up at him, hoping that if he can see my eyes he might remember that I am human and spare me.

"I think that would be best," he says, not taking his eyes off of me. Here in the intimacy of our own shadows, his eyes have become so dark and deep that they are almost black. Any fear that had existed moments ago has now vanished as I let myself surrender whatever truths he might supernaturally find in my soul through my own eyes. "But we don't need to do that when we can send a letter by flight." He slowly unwinds his finger from the strand until it kisses the skin of my temple. When he turns from me to address the two men, I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. There is such a storm of emotions within me that I couldn't merely pick one, no more than one could stand outside and pick a singular raindrop in a hurricane. All I know is that I want his eyes back on me.

"You'll be our special guest, Mr. Ambassador," he says. "Please, please, take advantage of our wonderful city. There's so much to do that you could never see all of it." He pulls a golden cord that I hadn't noticed in the corner of the room. The door the Wizard had come through opens and the man I had met last night, the head officer, walks in. "Glafly, would you please take care of our dear ambassador here? He'll be needing a room and help getting around the city. It's been so long since he's visited us and we wouldn't want him getting lost." The way he says "lost" is aimed with precision at Glafly.

Glafly nods, stepping closer to the ambassador's chair. The ambassador rises, the brim of his top hat now fully mangled out of shape. He never takes his nervous eyes off the Wizard but follows after Glafly. The Wizard repays him in kind, watching them leave until the door closes. When it does, he opens the top drawer of his desk and withdraws a gilded green pen, inkpot, and piece of paper. He scrawls something quickly on it and doesn't wait for the ink to dry before creasing it in half. Holding the paper between his middle and index fingers, he says "Esmet, get this to the secretaries, quickly. I want this delivered as soon as possible."

Esmet takes the paper with a quick bow. "Yes, Your Wonderfulness." He leaves through the door that they came in.

Standing alone in the room with him, the silence is unbearable. I ask him, "Is he a prisoner?"

He turns to look at me. "Do you think he is?" he asks.

I pull myself off of the bookshelf, approaching the desk. "He can't leave the city, can he?"

The Wizard offers me the crook of his elbow, and I take it. My heart is leaping trying not to think too much about the similarities between the ambassador's situation and mine. He walks with me to the door that leads back to his bedroom. "I want you to attend dinner tonight with the ambassador. I really think you could… liven up his depressed presence."

"I," I stutter, "I have chores to do." It's a poor excuse given the spotless state of the apartment.

He doesn't say anything, rather humming some strange tune. I think that maybe it sounds like some Lurlinemas carol that I may have sung a long time ago, off-key in the voice of a child, but the lyrics never click. I look up at him – sweet Oz is he tall, I barely come up to his shoulders, my eyes level with his golden eye tie tack – and he seems lost in some pleasant thought as he guides me into the bedroom.

"Your Wonderfulness?" I ask.

He opens the jeweled box on the dresser, the one with the beetles on it, and produces a golden hair comb decorated with pointed emeralds fashioned into delicate flowers. "There is more to be done than just scrubbing floors and washing windows," he says leaning against the dresser. With how tall he is, it's more like sitting. He holds the comb in his lap, a gentle smirk on his face. "Do you know your place?"

My place could be anywhere, but I wish it was next to my sister. It's been more than a week since I last saw her, and I worry that she thinks that I have forgotten her. My place had been sharing a bed with Emily only yesterday. And yet today, in the study... When he stood over me, looking me fully in the eyes... Didn't I want that to be my place too? I pick at the fine tulle of my skirt because the safest thing that I can think to say is what I answer. "No."

He pushes off the dresser, watching me with those dark eyes as he approaches. I watch as the shadows on his face flicker in the light of the fireplace. Holding the golden comb, he removes the pins from my braids and I can hear them carelessly dropping to the floor with soft pings. He unwinds the locks of hair from the ribbon and drops the piece of satin as well, too focused on smoothing out the now loose strands. The comb is cold as he drags the fine metal tines against the side of my scalp, gathering up just enough hair before turning the comb back over, and fastening the hair away from my face.

"Do you know my place?" he asks lowly, admiring his handiwork. He grabs the mirror off the dresser, holding it up to me.

"Why was the ambassador allowed to see you?" I ask, casting my eyes to the floor. I can’t tell if it’s my own promiscuous image or his eyes that I’m avoiding.

He lowers the mirror, tracing the raised golden design on the back of it. "I don't tell everyone who I am. He thinks I'm just some statesman deputized for the Great and Mighty Oz."

"Most people don't know who you are," I say. He stops his tracing of the design, raising his eyes to me.

"The most well-known man in Oz, unknown? You really think so?" he asks.

I take the mirror from his hands, trying to get a good look at myself in the dying sunlight. Dinner would probably be served soon, and one shouldn't refuse an invitation from the master of the house. My reflection is dim, but I can see how my brows have been reshaped at the hands of the stylists, the way my skin seems to glow as if they had dusted off the top layer like an old bookshelf. All thanks to him. "Is this dress suitable for dinner?" I ask.

"Do you want to change?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Not unless you want me to," I say.

He takes the mirror from me, sets it back down, and offers me his arm again. "Maybe later," he says. I hook my arm in his and his deep hum picks up the familiar tune from earlier as we walk down to the dining hall.

#wicked fanfiction #wicked 2024 #the wizard x reader #the wizard fanfiction #wicked 2024 fanfic #jeff goldblum

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bewiiitched · 4 months ago

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Sex doll (chapter seven)

WARNINGS: MDI, +18, alcoholism, violence, angst, a little of power background, fluff, smut, soft!Worst!Logan, P in V, creampie, age gap (reader mid 20's)

///////

It is only the background noise that ends up waking the mutant, and at first he sits up somewhat alarmed until his gaze travels to the end of the hallway, where the light in her bedroom is on and he can only assume that she is getting ready to go to work when his gaze focuses on the clock hanging on the wall, the fact that the room is in darkness is not a problem for him, since his senses adapt to the lack of light and he ends up deciding to sit up as well.

But the sound of the shower catches his attention and he grimaces, she is running late. He realizes this, since the light begins to filter through the curtains on the terrace.

She storms out of the room, her hair still wet and her uniform half-fixed, struggling to put on her apron, she walks blindly after turning off the light in the room so as not to wake him, her hand groping for her bag that she had left on the counter but she can't find it.

"Are you looking for this?" He mumbles, throwing the bag in her direction, the lack of light makes her not react in time, and it hits her abdomen but she catches it in time before it falls to the ground. He hears her curse under her breath.

“Did I wake you up?” she asks, rubbing the sore spot as she turns on the light, watching him close his eyes with a grimace, blinded by the sudden illumination. Logan groans, trying to adjust and lies back down on the couch, his gaze traveling to her but he doesn’t answer and sees her sigh, ending up putting the necessary things in the bag.

“Are you coming over tonight?” she asks, and out of the corner of her eye she can see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

//////////

The bar doesn't always close with him inside, sometimes he waits outside after closing time, but on this occasion, she hasn't even seen him all afternoon and it's been more than a quarter of an hour since she should have closed but there is still the same group of men who had arrived hours ago and were still getting drunk, some sitting at the bar while she was busy cleaning the tables and she had already wiped down the pool table only for them to use it again a while later.

Disguising her frustration was not an easy task, and the temptation to talk to his boss about reducing her hours was starting to sound better and better, one would think that she would have managed to control herself with months she had spent on the project, under Francis' supervision, but the reality was that everything had gone quite downhill since her desertion, trauma and containment surfacing even years later.

Logan's addition to her life had been chaotic, comforting too, but there was still a part of her that was reluctant to the closeness she was taking with him, as he had even opened up to tell her things about his past in his dimension and she had barely detailed her life.

The sound of breaking glass makes her raise her head abruptly, squeezing the cloth in her hand until her knuckles turn white and she only has to breathe slowly as her only option, out of the corner of her eye she sees the broken bottle of cheap alcohol they had ordered, and she gets up to reluctantly go get the broom and mop, she still hears them talking in a mix of screams and laughter about the situation.

It’s hard not to look at the clock as she approaches them to clean up the mess, and her patience begins to wear thin when one of them snatches the broom away from her under the pretense of cleaning up the mess, she barely has time to reprimand him under her apologies when she feels a hand on her forearm and instinctively her body tenses, holding back her powers.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you to get hurt.” His grip is shaky from all the alcohol in his system, but that doesn’t stop him from tightening to the point of pain as she reluctantly struggles, wrinkling her nose at the smell that could almost make her drunk as well. The laughter intensifies and she begins to see red when she feels his fingers brushing through her hair with the hand that’s not on her, her power kicking in and enhancing her reflexes along with her senses.

“Get your fucking hands off of me. ” She hisses through her teeth, and she can feel the lingering tingle of her power but they keep laughing, and in the background her phone is ringing, the call waiting to be answered, when he roughly pulls her closer, and his hand travels to her jaw trying to kiss her.

It’s not like they could register it with all they’d had to drink, but the movement is fast and her hand connects with his cheekbone with such force that his head snaps to the side and he goes back a few steps, staggering and dazed. Angered by the idea of involving her powers, her breathing is labored. “Everyone out.”

It’s all she says, and the laughter stops when the rest hear him curse, the mark of her hand red and prominent on his cheek as they drag him out ignoring his tirade and insults, their gazes travel to each other, suddenly in a hurry to leave.

She hears the jingle of the bell and strides to the door locking it, a frustrated cry leaving her mouth as she grabs a bottle from the shelf and the taste of alcohol makes her shudder, the burn in her throat familiar and she can feel the tickle turning into a sharp pain, her powers begging to be released on someone other than herself and when she looks at her hands there is a persistent tremor.

Humans had never been a threat to her, not when they were so weak to pain and so susceptible to pleasure. Even most mutants eventually gave in, except for those like Wade or Logan where the temporary solution was to keep them paralyzed and even then the disadvantage of their regenerative factor was too much.

She swallows, bringing the bottle to her lips again and feels everything spinning at the thought that she could have lost control,

She is more than halfway through the bottle when her gaze travels to the clock, more than half an hour since it should have been closed and it is not until almost another half hour later that she finally arrives at the apartment after having finished cleaning completely.

(...)

The darkness welcomes her and it is not difficult for her to notice the second heartbeat in the house and its characteristic aroma when her senses are still accelerated despite her attempts to calm down she still remains in a loop, the alcohol does not do much to numb her.

Part of her hopes to get to the bedroom without waking him, trying to avoid the situation this morning, but as she slowly closes the door sideways she realizes, thanks to the moonlight that enters through the curtains, that he is quite awake.

“Damn it, Logan. ” she grunts, feeling her heart skip a beat when she sees his gaze fixed on her. But he shifts his attention to the clock on the wall and then back to her.

He doesn’t say anything because he senses her annoyance in waves, enhanced senses or not, her expression is filled with frustration and he shares it, part of him feeling responsible for not having accompanied her in whatever happened. The smell of alcohol doesn’t go unnoticed either, which adds another layer of complexity because up until now he had never smelled it on her until after the day was over, which makes his suspicion grow.

“I called you.” It’s all he says, his tone cautious as he watches her undo her apron and leave it on the chair. Her guilty look lets him know that she hadn’t even looked at her phone and he runs a hand over his face, pushing back the hair that bothers him. “Doll.”

She sees him sit up out of the corner of her eye, causing her to shudder. The smell of alcohol can be mixed with the aroma of that group of idiots, but the handprint on her forearm is still present.

“I’m fine, I was just late cleaning up.” she answers, and her tone would be enough to stop the conversation, but Logan has never doubted his senses and the way he approaches makes her curse under her breath when his hand closes on her wrist, extending the arm that was marked.

There is a low growl that makes even her recoil, and for a second he says nothing, raising his darkened and questioning gaze.

“Leave it be-” she begins, looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and tiredness.

“Fuck it. What the hell happened?” He asks, with clenched teeth and she twists her wrist, managing to get away, making him frown.

“There was this group of drunks, but I'm fine-” His gaze flickers between her and the room, lost in his annoyance and this time it's her who grabs his chin. “Logan, I'm fine. I'm just angry that the situation could have gotten out of hand.”

As if it were possible his brow furrows even more and she can see the gears in his head turning, studying the workings of her powers. His fists clench and his pupils widen, getting rid of the green in his eyes.

“Did you use your powers?” he asks, and he sees her tense, her lips turning into a thin line.

“No. I just-” she cuts himself off, swallowing. “I could have killed him. If he'd managed to kiss me, I could have killed him.”

Somehow his gaze softens he can feel her anguish and although the fact of what had happened echoes in his mind, his hand travels to her face and rests on her cheek. “But you didn't. ”

He whispers and he can hear the beginnings of a broken laugh dying down, turning into a grimace, disgust and self-loathing written all over her face.

“I never learned to control them. Shit, even using them on myself was kind of accidental...” She speaks, almost tempted to pour herself more alcohol. Still standing she watches him lean against the side of the couch.

“Ever since they activated I could never really stop them. ” She gulps, avoiding eye contact. “Physical contact was enough to harm someone.”

The information makes Logan tilt his head, his eyes narrowing in interest and she gives him a weak smile when she can see him opening his mouth to speak.

“I thought you said you needed to share fluids.”

She answers with a light hum, getting up to grab a bottle of alcohol that she finishes emptying before throwing it in the trash. “It's true in a way, the state in which my powers were developed only allowed me to stimulate the nervous system of others, but it was not something I could control, any stimulus I could inflict was like being electrocuted at high intensity. It didn't matter if it was pain or not, the nervous system couldn't handle it and went into shock, or cardiac arrest.”

She explains, and takes another sip, licking her lips with a look of concern. “I can't even control the intensity now. But the only solution I found was to suppress them. So many times that it finally affected me, and I don’t know if it was adaptation or just something meant to happen, but something changed in my nervous system. My senses, my reflexes improved, and I could even decide whether to feel pain or not. But after that, my powers only worked through the fluids. It’s the only way I found a balance.”

His gaze seems to consider the situation, and there is a hint of caution in her gaze when she sees him approach. Even when he grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her lower lip. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t remember ever hearing him speak so softly, despite the request, she takes a step back abruptly shaking her head and looking at him with wide eyes. But she finds the edge of the counter colliding with her back. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

Her voice comes out sharper than it should and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her heart hammering hard at the thought.

“The risk of your powers is no different than the one you run by being around me.” He replies, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Why? Why do you have regenerative factor? What exactly are you trying to prove?

God, you don't control them in your sleep, I can never control them. The only solution I found is to switch between stimuli and even then...”

“And you don't have one. I could have killed you any of those nights.” He growls, reaching out again and grabbing her arm, his other hand traveling to the back of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. But I don't trust myself the same way you do. ”

Before she finishes, his lips are on hers, and her protests are muffled, her hands traveling to his chest as they both feel the same tickle, but her hands clench into fists and her breathing pauses as his grip loosens, but still holds.

“You’re not using them.” He murmurs as she pulls away.

“That doesn’t mean I can control them. It’s not a risk to you or Wade, but the rest...”

“No one will ever get that close.” he murmurs, trying to reassure her and she doesn’t need any more words to know that he’s going to become a permanent customer. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Her doubt turns to confusion as she looks up, and her brow furrows into caution.

“I thought you said it was dangerous.”

He hums, wrapping an arm around her waist before kissing her again, pulling her closer to him as his other hand trails up her abdomen. “I changed my mind.”

Their kisses continue all the way to the bedroom, and he doesn’t bother turning on the light as he watches her slump back onto the mattress and wastes no time in grabbing her thighs. With the reminder that it’s her uniform, he reluctantly lets her strip before cornering her figure back against the mattress.

“Logan.” She pants, his caresses enough to dampen her underwear as his hands roam her body. He's being so mindful.

And unlike all the other times, there’s no rush or need, he simply takes the time to admire her even though a smile tugs at his lips when he notices the scent between her legs. “Don’t tease me…”

She whispers, but her voice loses strength as his hand cups her intimacy and he hovers over her with his nose running down her neck as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way to her ear. “We’re just getting started.”

A soft huff escapes her lips, and she wraps her arms around his neck. “I want you.”

She protests and watches as his eyes darken, it takes an effort to contain himself and remind himself that he’s decided to make her feel good first, but the way she looks at him makes his pants tighten. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Part of him has grown accustomed to her teasing and her gripping, the way they both fight for control until she’s decided it’s enough and she lets himself go. But it’s not like he can complain about the way now all that comes out of her mouth are pleas and moans.

Her legs wrap around his waist as if at any moment he might slip away while her hands are quick to undo his shirt and send it flying across the room before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

As his touch intensifies it is she who takes control of the kiss and her moans are muffled when she feels him pull her underwear aside and hears the metallic sound of the buckle, a wave of adrenaline runs through her and she lightly bites his lower lip before pulling away.

Her gaze drops, and she barely has time to see his erection still in his underwear when his lips are on her throat, by inertia raising her head back she can feel his cock resting against her inner thigh before the tip brushes her entrance, soaking in her excitement first as he moves up and down opening her lips, the touch against her clitoris causing a shiver to run through her.

“Put your hands on your head.” He murmurs, and doesn’t hide his smile as she complies, almost imagining her response if the situation were different. Despite her arousal and the way she grips him, he takes care to push in slowly in the absence of foreplay, and a moan escapes her mouth as she pulls him roughly into her, the tease on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t quite get to say out loud.

“Logan.” She moans, relief written all over her as he shoves herself all the way in. And she doesn’t need to say anything else for him to start moving, one of his hands closing on her wrists and his thrusts soon gaining depth despite the slowness. The moans in his ear send a shiver through him and his grip tightens as he tries to hold back, every fiber of his being resisting to fuck her until she’s a senseless mess beneath him.

She’s not far off when his mouth catches her nipple and he hears her gasp, his free hand catching her other breast before pinching it, feeling it harden between his fingers, his hand squeezing it as his tongue wraps around the other.

“Please.” She moans, and the desperation in her voice makes him close his eyes, he can feel her walls clench around him and his hand moves down to her clit, his thumb making circular motions as he feels her release and bend her legs on either side of his hip. “F-Fuck, please let me come.”

There’s no part of him that wouldn’t let her do it, but he decides to shut up and his thrusts become rougher when he feels her tremble around him and he can feel his own release approaching. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes! ” she can feel the familiar tug in her abdomen, building up but not enough and he would continue to tease her if it weren't for how his own member was beginning to throb, not wanting to cum without feeling her.

Tightening around him, two fingers press against her clit in upward strokes as he enters her until his balls are pressed against her hip. “Come on, kid, cum for me.”

Her body inevitably tenses and he presses his lips together, swallowing his moan as her walls trap him, and he’s quick to follow, filling her while still feeling the spasms of her orgasm.

Her breathing is still labored as she feels him brush her hair away from her face, pulling out of her. “Better now?”

He whispers, and with the way he looks at her, she’s not sure whether to make the worst sexual comment that will put Wade to shame, or kiss him until he sees if he might die of asphyxiation.

“It would be better if you stayed to sleep next to me.” Is what she actually says, watching him get off of her and place himself, indeed, next to her.

//////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

#deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #mutant!reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you

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peachhcs · 9 months ago

Note

Will and Sammy definitely did kissed again after that first kiss, maybe in some parties with a little alcohol involved, but I think they definitely repeated that kiss

kissing as "just friends" | the wonder years

oh 10000% they never talk about any of the times they kiss "as friends" because none of them count and it doesn't mean anything obviously!

warnings: underage drinking?

wooo me posting twice in one day?? here's some small blurbs of a time they kissed again plus samy being affectionate and making will confused while i continue working through my writer's block tehehe (takes place samy's senior year of high school and will's final dev year)

au masterlist

senior year was the "go big or go home" year according to samy's friends. actually, marcie had all the big plans including throwing a senior year kick off party. whatever that meant, the girl was throwing at her house since her parents were out of town so of course the entire grade was invited including the ntdp boys.

things were going well so far except that marcie's house was packed wall to wall with kids from their school and random extras people brought along with them. trying to move anywhere was impossible because of the crowds, so samy found herself stuck in the corner of the kitchen barely listening to lauren and riley yap on about something.

she took two shots already paired with some sprite mix, so her veins were buzzing and her head felt light with relief. she scanned the room looking for no one in particular until her gaze stopped on a familiar mop of blonde curls—courtesy to herself after she insisted will grew his hair out more to "attract more girls."

the boy stood with his friends as they somewhat mingled with the others around. not quite thinking straight, samy pushed herself through the crowd in that direction. she stumbled into a few people, not really drunk yet, but definitely buzzing and tipsy.

when she finally reached them she hooked her arm around will's. the boy snapped his head over, softly smiling when he saw who it was.

"like the party?" the girl wondered to him and everyone else standing around.

"i can't believe you guys know all these people," gabe chuckled.

"i mean, not really, but i've gone to school with them for the past three years," the brunette smiled a bit before glancing at will again.

"having fun?"

"yeah, thanks for inviting us," he hummed.

will's own alcohol consumption contributed to his more flirtier nature towards the girl. even more than before. the others immediately noticed their touchiness, exchanging glances with one another thinking the same thing.

"want another drink?" samy wondered as she peered into will's cup that most definitely was not empty. it was her subtle ploy to pull him away.

"mm, sure," will didn't even hesitate nor did he say goodbye to his friends as samy pulled him away.

they watched the two disappear back into the crowd. ryan's chuckle came first and a small head shake, "god, i can't believe how oblivious they are."

samy and will did not make it to the kitchen.

they detoured into one of the bathrooms that happened to be empty, so they shoved themselves inside. neither of them said anything as their lips attached to one another in a near desperate manner.

the girl's back hit the wall. will's hands were everywhere along with the heavy pants quickly leaving his mouth. the alcohol in their systems clouded every logical thought and the only thing on their minds was the feeling of their lips pressed together.

samy's hands tangled into will's curls, pulling at the roots when his lips danced further down her neck.

"mhm, feels good," the girl mumbled.

"just friends, yeah?" will breathed against her skin.

"mm, yeah, just friends. just friends," samy nodded.

when the night ended and the sun rose along with everyone's hangovers, no one spoke a word about the faint hickey on samy's neck or will's hot blush when gabe poked him about it later on.

—

the locker room was empty except for will sitting against his stall head in his hands after the worst game of his life. the other guys left knowing to give him his space until a small knock tapped against the open door frame.

"will?" samy's faint voice came through. the boy picked his head up and her heart immediately broke seeing his bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

she immediately slid next to him on the bench. "hey, hey. it's okay," samy wrapped her arms around his shoulders where he basically fell into her.

"we lost the fucking game because of me," will muttered.

"hey, no. it wasn't your fault. i promise. the other team played dirty," the girl shook her head.

"they took me out and it costed us our win," the boy frowned.

all samy could do was hold him and hope her presence brought his spirits back up. the two sat there for a bit longer while will let some more tears fall. samy didn't mind though. she hated seeing her best friend so upset especially since she knew how hard he was on himself.

after another five minutes, will lifted his head back up. samy took ahold of his face giving a gentle smile.

"i'm still so proud of you no matter what. one bad game isn't a bad player or bad career," she made sure he knew that or else he'd never stop beating himself up about tonight.

"thanks, samy. i'm glad you're here," the boy smiled. she leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead—something she did frequently but the gesture meant a lot more to the boy this time around.

the blush spread across his cheeks when his eyes landed back on her sparkly lip gloss. he thought about kissing her—telling her how he felt, how he thought these gestures meant a lot more to him than just friends—but then her phone buzzed.

kyle's name flashed across the screen—the guy she was currently talking to and sort of officially seeing. seeing his contact brought will back into reality knowing everything between him and samy would be strictly friends only.

even their drunk makeouts in someone's bathroom.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #bc hockey #will smith fluff #will smith hockey fluff

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Text

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 3]

Sometimes you just miss your chance. Sometimes you have to take it.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: I did not count sue me I guess

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

It's not uncommon for him not to see you much during his work. But today, especially considering how close you've gotten to him and how comfortable, it's weird to him that he doesnt see you at all.

"Jungkook.." Hana says, catching his attention as he mops the floor of the lunch area where all hybrids had just eaten a few minutes prior. "Do you have a moment?" she asks, voice soft and kind, though he's guarded, because he knows that soft-tune she puts on.

She's talking to him like she does to the other hybrids.

Something's up.

"Sure." he shrugs, putting the mop to the side before followong her to the side. "What's up? Did I do something?" he wonders, hands in his pockets while he leans against the wall behind him.

"I think you've already noticed that 268- the hybrid you've been spending time with.. She's not here." Hana says, and she doesn't need to say your name to make his eyes harden. Technically you don't have one after all, only your ID number he's able to recite back by pure instinct. He knows that she's talking about you. There's no one else she could mean.

"what about her?" he asks suspiciously, already irritated because deep down, he's got his fears. Maybe you've been adopted. Then he should be happy, right?

Except he isn't.

"She's been transferred..." Hana says, sighing before she crosses her arms in front of her, a clear sign she's going to try and justify that action while also blocking his for sure incoming anger. "...to a correctional facility in Daegu."

"What the fuck?!" he loudly barks out as soon as he hears that, visibly distressed. "Do you know what they fucking do to hybrids in these shitholes?" he demands to know, fists curled tightly as hed pushed himself off the wall vehind him, walking a step towards her. "She's gonna be even more traumatized in there, good fucking job!" he scoffs.

"please, a bit more quiet-" she tries as she notices some hybrids looking. "-she's gonna be fine. They're trained in cases like hers-"

"and if she doesnt comply she will just be sent to another, and another, and a-fucking-nother! Great solution, really!" he barks out, pulling the nametag from around his neck aggressively. "I'm done participating in this bullshit."

"Jungkook-" she tries, but he's already walking.

"I've got a week left of this work and I've not taken any days off." he says grimly, turning around with angry eyes. "I'm taking them now." He growls angrily, leaving the area to go grab his things- when a young man looks at him, then at his nametag Jungkook is taking off in frustration.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The man says, standing next to him dressed in all black, a facemask covering half of his face. He looks sketchy- and has caught Jungkook during the worst time possible.

"What!?" he snarls more or less, before a letter is pushed into his hand, catching him off guard.

"You're being summoned to court." the man says. Jungkook's blood runs cold at that.

"I've done the community service shit, what the hell?" he argues, but almost weakly so- because he knows he's powerless against the legal system. If they believe he needs further, worse punishment, then he'll have to take it.

"Oh they know, it's not about that." the guy says. "Or at least, not entirely. Read it at home. I think you'll be interested in showing up." the guy almost chuckles, cat-like eyes showing his amusement over the situation.

"..huh." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, turning around to go grab his bag.

"Ah, and Jungkook-ssi." the guy calls out, making the younger man roll his eyes as he turns around. "could you borrow me some of your clothes?"

"..the fuck?" he squints his eyes, unsure what this stranger wants with his clothes of all things. "Why would you want my stuff?" He asks, cringing a bit.

"I think anything that's got your scent on it would do. Just bring something when you visit." the man says, handing him a card, and a plastic.. ID, similar to the one he uses to wear at the center right here. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

The card is from the Hybrid Behavioral Therapy Center in Daegu, contact info and location address clearly written down beneath the logo. But it'sthe plastic ID card that makes hus eyes widen, because it clearly spells out;

'Special Clearance Pass: Potential owner for hybrid 268.'

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine

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superiorcleanroom · 5 days ago

Text

Expert Interview: Tips from a Cleanroom Design Specialist

Cleanrooms are critical environments where precision and cleanliness are paramount. To gain insights into what makes a cleanroom efficient and effective, we interviewed Jane Doe, a leading cleanroom design specialist with over 15 years of experience in the field. Jane has worked on projects ranging from pharmaceutical manufacturing facilities to advanced research labs. Here, she shares her top tips and best practices for cleanroom design and operation.

1. Understand the Purpose of the Cleanroom

Jane emphasizes that the first step in designing a cleanroom is understanding its intended use. “The requirements for a pharmaceutical cleanroom are vastly different from those for a semiconductor facility,” she explains. “Each cleanroom must meet specific standards and regulations, such as ISO classifications or FDA guidelines.” Collaborating with stakeholders to define clear objectives ensures that the design aligns with operational needs.

2. Prioritize Airflow Management

“Airflow is the lifeblood of a cleanroom,” Jane states. Proper airflow design minimizes contamination by controlling particle movement. This includes choosing the right type of airflow—laminar or turbulent—and strategically placing HEPA filters and air returns. Jane also stresses the importance of maintaining consistent air pressure differentials to prevent cross-contamination between cleanroom zones.

3. Choose Materials Wisely

The materials used in a cleanroom play a crucial role in maintaining its cleanliness. “Walls, floors, and ceilings should be made of smooth, non-porous materials that are easy to clean and resistant to chemical damage,” Jane advises. Stainless steel, epoxy coatings, and specialized cleanroom-grade panels are common choices.

4. Focus on Ergonomics and Workflow

A well-designed cleanroom is not just clean; it’s also functional. Jane highlights the importance of ergonomic considerations and optimized workflows. “Poor layout can lead to inefficiencies and increased contamination risk,” she warns. “Ensure that equipment placement and personnel movement are carefully planned to reduce disruptions and bottlenecks.”

5. Invest in Training and Maintenance

Designing a state-of-the-art cleanroom is only half the battle; maintaining it is equally critical. “Regular training for personnel on cleanroom protocols is essential,” Jane notes. She also recommends establishing a robust maintenance schedule for equipment, filters, and surfaces to ensure long-term performance.

6. Plan for Scalability and Flexibility

“The needs of a facility can change over time, so it’s wise to design cleanrooms with scalability in mind,” Jane suggests. Modular cleanroom designs and adaptable layouts can accommodate future expansions or changes in operational requirements.

7. Partner with Experts

Finally, Jane underscores the value of working with experienced professionals. “Cleanroom design is a specialized field that requires expertise in engineering, compliance, and operational efficiency,” she says. “Partnering with knowledgeable consultants can save time and prevent costly mistakes.”

Conclusion

Cleanroom design is a meticulous process that balances technical requirements with practical considerations. By following these expert tips from Jane Doe, organizations can create cleanrooms that not only meet regulatory standards but also enhance productivity and safety. Whether you’re building a new facility or upgrading an existing one, thoughtful design and ongoing diligence are key to success.

#cleanroom products #polyester mop heads #bouffant caps #conductive gloves #cleaning swabs #cleanroom tacky mats – grey #cleanroom wall mop heads #cleanroom flat mop system #cleanroom wall mop system

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septembersung · 5 months ago

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@citadelofthestars You are in luck because I just overhauled our entire chore system for the new school year so this is all fresh on my mind.

Context: this was from the post about making chores fair for kids and not requiring more domestic labor of girls than boys or having sisters clean up after brothers but never vice versa.

The following sounds complicated but it’s not? It evolved organically based on what our house needs and fits into how I organize the rest of my life. And, ymmv based on kids’ ages, temperament, and varieties of neurodivergence. My kids are all under 11 and we homeschool and half of us are probably adhd, so we’re still learning skills and also in our space making messes a lot. I would also like to emphasize that I am so bad about chores. Hence the system. When we follow through… it’s amazing. And then we don’t and we start over again (distant screaming.)

We do chores 2-3 times a day on school weekdays (or… sometimes once… but that’s a rough day for cleanliness) and everybody helps at mealtimes. Everybody gives me an hour or a set number of chores on Saturday. We aim to have the house “Sunday ready” by dinnertime Saturday.

Morning chores: this is their chance to take care of their personal space: bed, desk, laundry tidy, that sort of thing. It’s part of general getting ready. After this, the big 3-4 kids help with animal chores (and gardens when applicable) except when they’ve fractured a bone like kid 4 currently has. In some seasons the big 3 will each have an easy first thing kitchen chore like “empty the dishwasher” but not usually during the first part of school year. Mornings are hard for us so we have to get into school routine fir a whole first.

Afternoon chores: By age and ability. Mostly, one-off jobs like change out laundry, put away your laundry, take out trash, entertain a little for 20 minutes so I can have free hands for a separate task, help make the afternoon snack, etc. (Our lives run in 20 minute increments it feels like. I have a timer for everything. It’s what keeps me on task.) I expect big kids (7+) to do 2-4 tasks in this time depending on what the tasks are and under 7s to do one or two things tops, with me. Laundry is a coveted job but the rule is you have to be able to read the label on the knob and reach the bottom of the washer. We’re always behind so I decide as we go what the next load is, and if it’s your basket you’ll be called to help me load even if you’re not big enough to do it independently. Everybody folds (except the 1yo. Because she thinks it’s a keepaway game.)

We have a basic laminated grid on the wall with a column for each kid and little chore stickers with Velcro buttons on the back. (Well, we will when I print and hang the updated version.) Stuff no one likes doing I assign in 2 month increments or more (for habit and technique building) like scrubbing the bathroom; things everyone wants to do, like dust mop, they trade off each week or so. My oldest is so possessive of his sweeping job it’s possible no one else will ever sweep that bit of floor again. But there’s so much else to sweep I’m not too worried tbh.

I try to reset the chart for changeable chores every weekend. In my new and improved version there’s a section for each chore time, and separate for meals, instead of one long column under your name, and you have two columns!, so you move your little chore sticker from “undone” to “done.” Also contemplating have a little sack of random chores to draw from, like a scrabble tile bag, because “contribute positively to the family” is our go to consequence for misbehavior.

Evening chores: This is when we “get in the zone”. Your zone is one specific area of the house you are responsible for. You can do it on your own as you like to stay on top of it or wait til during the fast zone tidy which comes right before or after dinner. And it is fast, like maximum 20 minutes and 10 is better. Big 3 kids rotate between dining room, living room, and main bathroom. Little kids share the playroom. Everybody helps in their own bedroom at the end for 5-10 minutes. I cycle through and help everybody as needed unless something urgent calls me.

Meal time jobs include: table, chairs, floor, dishes (load up or wash by hand.) We’re working up to include kitchen floor and counters as the big kids take on more responsibility for cooking. Again the big 3 kids rotate among the more skilled jobs, while the little 3 trade out what they help scrub and sweep and carry.

Saturdays the kids will do a more irregular job, like “clean out the van” (which is all hands on deck together) or a periodic job like “mop or vacuum your zone” or “scrub cabinets.” We mostly discuss these jobs each week depending on what seems most needed instead of having a specific thing on the chart. (In my improved version the Velcro buttons say “Saturday chore time” in the little Saturday section at the bottom.)

This is probably way more detail than you ever needed in your life, but here we are. Happy planning!

#my life #my kids

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bleach-your-panties · 1 year ago

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💔the pathological liar - pro hero! yo shindou x fem! pro hero! gf! reader

warnings: characters aged up to 20+, lying, cheating, arguing, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual activities, non-con (reader does say no), dub-con, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, name-calling, physical struggles, physical fighting (one-sided, so assault?), reader has a smart ass mouth and is kinda toxic as well, slight!yandere!yo, toxic relationships, toxic mindsets, false imprisonment, triggering subject at the end. read at your own risk!

☠️: some dialogue/actions inspired by true events.

💔: banner images from pinterest.

💔: banner made by me with canva.

post themes: say my name - destiny's child

confessions, parts I & II - usher

take a bow - rihanna

shake it off - mariah carey

💔 3.5k words

💔read in dark mode for best experience!

🖤series 🖤touya.

—--

I know you say that I am assuming things

Something's going down that's the way it seems

Shouldn't be no reason why you're acting strange

If nobody's holding you back from me

'Cause I know how you usually do

When you're saying everything to me times two

Why can't you just tell the truth?

If somebody's there, then tell me who

—--

"Baby, ain't nothing good. It's all bad."

—--

'Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system:

"Shindou, Yo". Cannot come to the phone right now, please leave your message at the tone-'

Before the recording could finish, you were throwing your iPhone across your bed as you shrugged your backpack off of your shoulders.

Your boyfriend, Yo Shindou, never answered his phone when you called. Never when you called, but he'd always immediately send a text or call you back hours later, claiming that his phone was dead or that he'd misplaced it somewhere at the agency.

Like now, for example.

'ding'

'Sorry babe, got caught up in something last minute at the agency. Call you back when I'm home. Love you.'

You scoffed as you read over the message.

You wouldn't be getting a call back, that much you knew for certain.

With a sudden urge to be petty, you texted back:

'Something like what, Yo? Another bitch's pussy? Yeah, people at my agency are starting to talk and guess who's the topic of conversation? Just know that the label of 'cheating boyfriend' won't do your "picture perfect" image any justice. Bitch.'

After hitting send, you tossed the phone back onto your bed and that was where it would lay until you got out of the shower.

As soon as your bathroom door closed, the phone vibrated with another text.

'Oh, so we're doing this shit again? Bet. I'll be over in 20.'

—

After moisturizing your body and putting on some pajamas, you climbed into bed and pulled out the book that you'd been reading. Leaving your phone discarded somewhere in the covers.

It was starting to get to one of the more interesting parts when a chorus of loud, booming knocks came on your front door.

"Who in the fuck?" You threw the covers back furiously and slipped your fluffy slippers on.

You walked out of your room and down the hallway, the beating at the door only growing more intense as you sucked your teeth.

"I'm coming, dammit!"

Pulling the door open without checking the peephole first would be your first mistake of the night.

When the messy mop of dark locks, green/yellow hero uniform, and chiseled pecs came into your view, you immediately tried to slam the door shut. Yo wasn't having any of that.

He grabbed the edge of the door, wedging half of his body inside of your apartment before he pushed it forward with force, making it slam and bounce off of the wall.

Once his boots made contact with the carpeted floor of your apartment, you took multiple steps back, putting about two feet of distance between the two of you.

"What's wrong, baby? You don't look too happy to see me."

Scoffing harshly, you bit your bottom lip between your teeth as you glared up at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Beating on my goddamn door like you've lost your mind. Thought you were caught up in something? That just goes to show that all you do is fucking lie. You bitch."

Yo just looked at you with his face scrunched up. He was clearly irritated with your antics, especially the name-calling. Kicking off his boots, he began to walk towards you.

"Stop fucking being difficult, Y/N. You know, baby, if you missed me and wanted some dick, all you had to do was ask nicely."

He said in that irritating, condescending tone that he always uses when talking to those that he feels are beneath him. You being one of those. Even though you're a pro-hero just like he is.

Not believing what you were hearing, your mouth dropped open. You could feel the blood begin to rise in your ears, loud and whooshing against your skull.

A dry chuckle then left your lips.

"You think…that all of this is because I want some dick? Trust me, sweetie, if I just wanted some dick I could go get it from any one of your co-workers. A lot of them have been giving me the eye, you know. Especially since you're never around and I just changed up my hero uniform, so the skirt is short-"

Yo cut you off by grabbing you by the biceps and yanking you towards him, making you stumble and throw your arms out to try to balance yourself before he then slammed you up against the wall.

"Don't fucking play with me, Y/N. If you know what's good for you, you'll think twice about trying to entertain one of those bastards. Especially-"

"Especially who? Bakugou? Oh, he'd be my first choice if I were to step out on you." You smirked up at him.

He snarled. Your smirk widened as you could physically hear him grinding his teeth.

Yo was quiet for a moment, just glaring at you as you stared right back at him with a bored look on your face. You even went as far as to yawn.

"Yeah, it's not so fun when the rabbit has the gun, huh?"

He didn't answer, but instead pulled you off of the wall and hoisted you up over his shoulder. A big hand came up and smacked forcefully against your ass.

"That's alright. I know how to fix you." He chortled darkly, moving away to begin walking down the hallway to your bedroom.

"I don't want your community ass dick! Put me down, Yo!"

He just ignored you and kicked open the door to the room.

"Sure you don't. You always do this shit to get my attention, Y/N. Catch an attitude, start a stupid ass argument, and then I fuck it out of you. Same shit, different goddamn day, baby."

Yo said after tossing you onto the bed, making your forgotten phone flop onto the floor. He gave it a puzzled look.

"Oh, so that's why you seemed so surprised to see me. You didn't read my text."

He chuckled, reaching to grab your hip to flip you over onto your stomach as if you were a pancake.

Rough hands began to caress your feet, ankles, and legs, all the way up to your inner thighs and bottom of your ass cheeks, just under the hem of your nightdress.

"No panties? Yeah, you were definitely planning on getting dicked down tonight, you needy little slut."

SMACK

Your back arched off of the bed at the painful stinging of Yo's slaps. His hands felt heavy as lead as they connected with your soft flesh.

SMACK

"Where are you going? Thought you liked when I spank you, huh?"

Yo wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you back when you tried crawling up the bed to escape him.

"Stop it, Yo…hurts…" You whined.

"It hurts, Yo, please stop." He mocked. "Stop being a fucking brat, then."

He grabbed one of your ass cheeks and squeezed hard, making you moan out involuntarily.

"Moaning like this but you don't want my dick? I bet you're dripping fucking wet for me right now, Y/N. Dare me to check?"

You didn't respond, which prompted Yo to do as he suggested and slip two fingers underneath you between your ass cheeks to get to your slick folds.

"Damn baby, all this for me, yeah? Only me."

He growled. With his large hand, he covered your entire bare pussy and activated his Quirk.

A harsh shiver wracked through your entire body, another soft moan leaving your lips. Yo only pressed harder, moving his fingertips to graze over your clit repeatedly.

"Y-Yo…please, daddy…" You whined, making him smirk down at you. He increased the vibration of his fingers along with rubbing your clit from side to side.

"Say you're sorry for bringing up Bakugou and I might let you feel this fat dick next..." Yo rested his upper body against your back and snaked his free arm under you to hold you up off the bed just a bit.

"No..I'm…n-not sorry. I meant it. Oh fuck!"

Yo grimaced before grabbing you and flipping you back over onto your back.

"What did you say?"

Your e/c eyes were wet with unshed tears as you frowned up at his handsome face. You didn't falter.

"You heard me."

"I thought I told you that if you know what's good for you, you won't even think about that motherfucker!" He seethed.

"I obviously don't know what's good for me if I'm still fucking around with you!"

Before you knew what was happening, Yo had pinned you to the bed by your throat. Moving between your legs, he used his knees to spread them.

"Yo, stop!"

"Shut up, bitch. You'll learn to stop pissing me off one day."

His belt hit the bed as he undid it, his black pants and underwear soon following it. You tried to pull your legs up, but he surged forward, pushing his hard dick inside you with one thrust.

Head falling back against the soft mattress, you couldn't help but keen as Yo began a rough, fast pace. He gripped your calf to pull you closer and stretch you open wider for him.

"Yes, Yo…right there! I'm going to cum!"

Yo grunted in response, trying to hold back from cumming himself.

"Yeah, baby? My fingers got you all ready to cum on my dick? Let it go then, oh shit."

He sped up even more, making your free breasts bounce outside of your nightgown and the headboard hit the wall. It already had a small dent in it from your previous heated romps, but neither of you seemed to care very much.

It could be painted over once you moved out.

"Oh God, I…!"

Your release splashed against Yo's pelvis and drenched the sheets beneath you.

"Ah, fuck. Yeah, made that little pussy squirt, huh? Stay still for me, baby. I'm about to nut."

Your eyes widened. "Yo, no. You're not wearing a condom and I haven't replaced my NuvaRing yet!"

It had been out for five days now while you waited on your doctor to send in a new prescription.

That didn't stop him. Either he was too deep into his impending orgasm to hear you, or he was flat out ignoring you.

"Yo!"

"SHIT! AGHH!"

Blind fury clouded your vision while Yo's was clouded for a completely different reason altogether.

"Damn…" He breathed out, making sure to stay deep inside you until he was finished cumming.

Once you got your bearings, you sat up abruptly, making Yo stumble back onto his elbows. He sucked his teeth once he saw your angered face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You don't want to have my baby?"

"Yo, we're both in our early 20's at the height of our hero careers. We're nowhere near ready for a damn baby!"

The raven-haired man was about to respond until a soft, vibrating sound silenced the both of you.

You slowly swung your legs over the side of the bed, searching for the source of the noise.

Bending down, you surveyed the floor briefly. Your forgotten cell phone lay halfway underneath the bed.

It's not your phone going off.

Yo could've been mistaken for a ghost; you watched his face blanch white while he patted the pockets of his discarded pants searching for the missing device.

A race against time, but you spotted it first.

With the rectangular device being tangled in your covers, Yo almost knocked you off the bed trying to get to it, but you were way faster than him. It was already in your hand.

tatas💕: my appointment is at 3pm tomorrow. are you going to be able to make it?

You scrunched your nose and swatted Yo's hand away while reading the text.

"Appointment? What is this about, and why does Tatami need you there?"

Cold e/c eyes turned to stone while you watched Yo fidget nervously. This is one of the only times you've seen him like this; the other when he asked you out for the first time.

"Y/N…do you love me?"

"What kind of question is that, Yo? If I didn't, would I still be with you?"

"Unconditionally?"

Your nose scrunched. Something isn't right…

You knew all about Tatami. Yo's ex-girlfriend from high school. He told you that he broke it off during their third year because she was becoming too clingy. You'd even met her once, when you had a joint mission with her agency.

"Yes…"

"Say you'll never leave me?"

Oh hell no. He was asking too many questions now.

"What did you do, Yo? Huh?!"

He just hung his head. His phone vibrated again in your hand.

----

Everything that I've been doing is all bad

I've got a chick on the side

With the crib and the ride

I've been telling you so many lies

Aint none good, it's all bad

And I just wanna confess, it's been going on so long

Girl I been doing you so wrong and I want you to know that

----

"Everytime you called my phone, I wasn't at the agency working overtime…I..I was with Tatami."

A long, loud sigh left your lips. Your free hand came up, knuckles resting against your forehead.

I don't want to look, but I know I have to…

"Y/N.." Yo warned.

new message

"Y/N, please, baby…"

tatas💕: i know the doctor said that we won't know the sex until about 20 weeks, but i can't help being so excited! we're possibly going to have a little yo running around soon! 👶🏻

Your grip on the phone tightened.

----

If I could turn back the hands of time

And start all over I would

Instead of everything being all bad, baby

Everything'll be all good

I know today is the day that I end all the lying and the playing and the bullshit, girl

----

"Y/N, I'm sorr-"

WHAM!

Your knuckles that you'd been resting against your forehead went across Yo's face at the speed of light. You punched him hard as hell in his face, making him tumble over and off the foot of the bed. The sight would've been hilarious if you weren't so fucking pissed.

"I knew I was right…." You chuckled. "I fucking knew it. You knew that she was pregnant, too. You've known for months."

Yo looked up at you with big, watery eyes full of regret. Almost like he was a different person entirely.

One hand clutched his throbbing cheek. You'd hit him so hard that his lower lip busted. His perfect face would soon be discolored black and blue, across his forehead, nose (that was also bleeding now), and right eye.

"I'm sorry! Baby, I'm sorry!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YO! YOU'RE ONLY SORRY BECAUSE YOU GOT FUCKING CAUGHT!" You raged. You lunged off the bed at him and started hitting him everywhere, as hard as you could. You even grabbed two handfuls of his black hair and yanked his head around.

Yo finally grabbed your arms and pinned them against your chest. You'd grown exhausted, so you just let yourself fall against his naked chest.

A bitter chuckle, then the tears, hot and angry. You couldn't hold them any longer as you looked up at Yo, staring at his swollen, beaten face.

"You're so fucking ugly when you cry. What the fuck are you crying for, huh? I'm the one that got cheated on. Lied to, played with, manipulated."

"Not only did you fucking lie to me and cheat on me, but you fucked around and got the bitch pregnant, too. This has got to be a joke."

Yo slowly crawled up from the floor with you in his arms, blood dripping down his nose and lip, staining the carpet, then the bedsheets while you covered your face with your hands and sobbed.

He cradled you gently and laid his head against yours, lips kissing at the temples.

"Baby, please…we can work this out. I don't love her. I love you, but I…I still want to be there for the baby…"

Your brokenhearted wails only increased in volume.

"Don't cry, baby. I promise I'll be here for you and our baby, too."

—-

Three Months Later

Yo made good on his word to be there for you.

Shortly after his "confession", you found out that you were pregnant as well.

Tatami is currently six months along, while you're only three.

Turns out that all of this was a part of Yo's twisted plan.

Instead of your late birth control being due to your doctor's or the pharmacy's incompetence, it was Yo who called the doctor's office pretending to be your husband and had them cancel your refill request.

Yo then demanded suggested that you take time off from hero work while you were carrying his child, which you slightly agreed with, but still did so with reluctance.

You don't know how he did it, but you guessed being one of the top 20 heroes carried with it a lot of weight for him to be able to take off enough to make it to all of yours and Tatami's appointments.

He even moved you out of your apartment and into his. Into your own room.

The reason that you had your own room was because Tatami ended up losing her apartment due to being out of work, so Yo moved her in as well.

With the way that the living arrangements had been set up, you and Tatami might as well have been sister wives.

To attempt to keep things "fair" between the both of you, Yo would designate certain nights where either of you would get to sleep in the room with him. So neither of you would feel neglected by him.

His heart was in the right place, wasn't it?

Even when you could clearly hear the whispered moans and soft creaking of the bed from Yo's room on Tatami's nights.

No matter how you tried to make yourself not hear it.

Yo didn't want you stressing out, he claimed, so he bought you many expensive gifts and gadgets to help you get a good night's rest.

None of them worked.

Not when the walls in that apartment were paper thin.

Many nights you cried and raged to yourself.

Obviously all of that stress wasn't healthy for the baby.

Which leads you to today.

A pair of dark sunglasses hiding your eyes along with a long trench coat and hat to conceal the rest of your persona.

They were loud and jarring as you walked in, but your world had gone numb three months ago. Now you were trapped inside your own world as you stepped up three flat steps into a white, brick building.

A ghost clutching a brown clipboard only made the atmosphere even gloomier before whisking you away from the judgemental eyes and into a plainly decorated room with blue walls.

She read over the papers first then handed the clipboard to you, one more questioning look being shot your way.

You just gave a simple nod.

—-

"You have reached the voicemail box of L/n, Y/n. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

BEEP.

Yo sighed heavily and put his head in his hands before standing up to walk out of your completely barren bedroom.

Before he closed the door, he whispered softly,

"Why, Y/n?"

Your location on his phone showed him exactly where you were.

—-

Gotta make that move

Find somebody who

Appreciates all the love I give

Boy, I gotta

Gotta do what's best for me

Baby and that means I gotta shake you off

—--

a/n: i think this piece was a pretty strong start to the series! i'm really proud of it! stay tuned, there's plenty more bullshit to come!

*remember, if you get angry enough at your partner that you feel like wanting to put your hands on them, just walk away!

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darth-ora · 6 months ago

Text

That's an Order cassian andor x fem! reader

things could have gone horribly wrong, but they didn't

cute little cassian fluff

(this is my first published writing piece, theres probably so many grammatical errors, so please excuse that)

Your ship ascended above the white salt of Hoth, stirring the blanket of white to reveal the red clay beneath. A gunfight had broken out on the way back to the ship, ever hyperfocused you didn’t comprehend the words being yelled at you by a one Cassian Andor. Everything was fine now, he was safe, you were safe and you had managed to get the drive you were looking for. It was successful in your eyes but not to Andor. You were almost unaware of the anger that bubbled inside of him after he closed the hatch behind you, the last to board the ship. The action that gave his anger away was allowing anyone other than himself to pilot the ship. K-2 was in charge and it was only a few seconds before the sounds of metal doors slamming against the cockpit door frame that jerked you out of your adrenaline rush.

“I told you to leave! I gave you an order!” Cassian yelled at you. You had taken a seat to stop the swimming in your head and the lights of blaster fire shooting from behind closed eyes. He was still standing, clearly unable to calm himself enough even to sit.

“Instincts kicked in.” You shrugged off, “I saw you going back in and I did what I thought I needed to do. We got away just fine Captain, is it a problem?” Maybe the mission hadn’t gone to plan but Cassian always did this. You would follow your instincts and save his ass but he would only see it as you being reckless.

“The problem is you almost died!” Cassian shouted. “You almost die every day?!” You finally raised your voice. “That’s me not you!” “So you’re allowed to die like a martyr but no one else can do the same? Cassian why do you do this every time!” Your voice was the only thing you could hear, reverberating off the metal walls of the ship.

“Because I love you!” Cassian’s voice boomed. It cleared your mind, you couldn’t feel your body, or your heart beating, just a high-pitched ringing in your eyes. Had you just died after hearing those words?

“What?” Your face scrunched in confusion, every sound was muffled. You honestly thought your brain had made up those four words. They never fell from Cassian’s lips, not possible, not to you.

“I…I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry,” Cassian tried to brush past you, but you weren’t going to let that happen. “Cassian seriously what did you say.” Holding your head and bringing yourself to sit back down, the adrenaline was wearing off and you could feel the effects of not listening to your captain. “It sounded like you said you l-…it sounded like you said something Cassian Andor would never say to me.” You laughed it off, breathless, holding onto the scraps of reality. You were in the middle of a revolution, now was not the time to be delusional.

“Then either you heard correctly and think too low or yourself or you are having a hallucination.” Cassian’s anger was gone now, at least you think it is. Your vision is still slightly marred with streaks of light from the blasters. “Cassian, seriously. I don’t have the mental strength to decode your words right now.” Putting your head between your knees you finally ask for help. “Are we going to the med bay?”

Cassian bent down and rubbed your back, “K-2 is taking us there now. We should be there soon.” Cassian took off his jacket and crumpled it into a makeshift pillow. Gingerly he pushed your form to lie down on the bench that occupied the hallway outside of the cockpit. “Rest, I’ll get you when we land.”

You don’t remember getting to the med bay, getting off the ship, or being put into a batca pod but there you were. Panic rose in your system, it alerted everyone outside of the room but the first to your side was a familiar blurry figure, distorted by the liquid you lay in. That brown mess mop of hair couldn’t be anyone other than, “Captain Andor, she will need to stay here for a few days to make sure she is fully healed. Would you like to walk with us to her new room?” Then the memory went black, flashing in and out of consciousness while the nurses and droids wheeled you from the batca room to a new room, secluded from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital. You remember the bright lights of the room blinding you before you decided you needed to rest once again.

When you awoke you had no idea how long had passed but the lights in the room had since dimmed. There was the faintest dip in the bed, some weight that wasn’t from your body. When your eyes adjusted you saw the figure of the famous Captain Cassian Andor mouth wide open, snoring with his head rested against his outstretched arms that were laid right beside yours. If this had been anyone else you would have woken them, wanting desperately to talk to someone. But it was your Captain, your best friend since you two were teenagers, you knew he rarely would rest himself, and usually, his rest was interrupted. You let him sleep, each minute your hand itched to move closer to the one he had in the hospital bed. Only your pinkies were touching when a nurse droid came in— blinding you by turning on the lights and jolting Cassian from his sleep. Blaster pulled out on the poor nurse droid. You laughed causing Cassian to notice you were finally awake.

The look in his eyes made you want to push the nurse droid out of the room but every answer to her made her stay even longer. It felt like an eternity before she said you would be released later today.

“You snore.” As soon as the droid had closed the chamber door. “You do too.” Cassian seemed to be checking over all the vitals, who knows if he knew what any of them meant. “Cassian, will you please tell me what you said on the ship now?” “What, that you almost died? And now here you are after five hours in a batca pod?” “No smartass, after that.” You thought about it for a second, if you just said what you thought he did and it was wrong just blame it on the wooziness of being under batca for that long. “It sounded like you said you love me.” Even with the excuse already planned you couldn’t help but laugh in case of being rejected.

Silence fell in the room, but Cassian’s eyes said everything. “Kassa…” You had reverted to his old name, his real name. Because now he was trying his hardest to act as if he didn’t know the language you were speaking. “I can read you like a book, but I would like for you to confirm or deny with words.” There was caution in your eyes, you could see it reflected in his, past all the stars in the galaxy that floated in the brown irises.

Still no words, just a huff and then movement, movement that led to his lips locked with yours. Breath being taken away, reality and fantasy blurring together. He pulled away far too quickly for your liking, maybe it was because of some machine in the background beeping erratically all of a sudden. His eyes widened for only a split second before you pulled him back down with you. You swear you could feel him laugh against you. It turned out to be true. A droid came back into the room to check on the machine and Cassian with no shame didn’t move from your figure. His forehead rests against yours, a smile graced his face.

“I love you” He whispered as your attention had to be ripped from him and towards the droid nurse once again. Your heart warmed, and you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You begged mentally for the droid to leave again. And as if it was magic the droid left, leaving you to now be shocked that Kassa, the Kassa, Kassa from your childhood was smiling at you. You were the cause of that smile. “All these years I wished to be the reason for you to smile.” You said slightly cringing at your own words but Cassian’s gaze made it melt away. “You’ve always been the reason behind it, mi amor.” You leaned into his touch, his rough hands caressing your face. “That was kind of gross Captain” you smiled up at him, “but I love you so I’ll look past it.” Another chuckle came from him, you felt the vibrations through his body as you did the best you could to hug him from your place in the bed. He kissed your hair, then your cheek, and lips, before grabbing his coat and kissing your hand. “I’m going to go sign the release forms for you, I’ll be back.” He was halfway through the doorframe when he looked back, “Stay where you are. That’s an order.” “Is that from Captain Andor, or my Cassian?”A burst of confidence was already getting to you. “Captain Andor, soldier.” Voice stern but face was distorted with the cheesiest of smiles. You sat in the bed pinching yourself. How after all these years of pining and hiding it did you get to tell Cassian Andor you love him? and he loves you? An answer you’ll never know but you’ll be sure to get some theories from Maarva.

{thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it!! like i said this is the first piece ive ever publicly shared so any NICE critiques would be much appreciated... maybe i'll post some more?}

#star wars #star wars andor #andor #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #star wars reader insert #diego luna #cassian andor fluff

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