#what the fuck is wrong with her (affectionate)

[kavalyera]

"butchfailure" crying. i love v

she did not survive her first lesbian relationship

[chainsawl]

[ ID: A tumblr post by @/fox-guardian reading "he's a sweetheart he's a bitch he's just a little guy he's so very powerful he's the kindest of souls he's SO rude he means everything to me". Below it there is a transparent png of bmo adventure time with multiple red arrows pointing at them. End ID ]

[benjaminthesnail]

Spoilers for SxF Ch 75

I have a new favorite character and her name is Melinda Desmond. Ch 75 was a very nice wrap-up to the Red Circus arc, but MD really stole the show at the very end.

I know every Tumblr user has their poor little meow meow and Melinda Desmond is mine. She goes directly to pick up Damien instead of sending the family butler. She loves and fixates on her son so much in the moment that it reminds Anya of Yuri’s relationship with Yor. She hates her husband so much that she will not refer to him by name or by familial title. She seems to genuinely love and hate her youngest son so much that she can’t commit to one or the other even in her own thoughts. Whether it’s because her son still fixates on a man who couldn’t be bothered to show up when he almost died, or she’s reminded of how Damian is the one shackling her to the Desmond household, or if she’s reminded of the man she hates in the boy she adores - my girl is unsettling and I don’t want her around her own kids.

I want to study her like a bug.

[laugtherhyena]

What the fuck.

[arundolyn]

unspeakable rizz (dahlia telling someone to scream more) vs sexual harassment (terumi telling someone to scream more)

[chizuery]

sobs

Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-

Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-

"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.

"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-

"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.

"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.

She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.

Nor the shaking fear.

"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"

"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.

When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.

"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."

"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.

Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.

"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"

"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"

"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.

"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.

"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."

They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.

"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.

She can't think. She can't think.

Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.

Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.

Until she suddenly smells ozone.

Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.

The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.

Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.

"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."

Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-

Nobody has ever cared for her.

... Nobody has-

Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.

"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"

A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."

A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.

She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.

The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"

"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."

"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"

"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."

For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"

"No, Athena!"

"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"

"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"

Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.

Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.

"Please," She whispers.

Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.

"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."

Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.

She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.

She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.

"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-

He's still singing.

She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.

Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"

"Sister-"

"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"

Her siblings exchange looks.

"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"

Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.

"Wait, the bandages-!"

"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"

"Daughter, be careful!"

Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.

"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."

Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."

"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."

"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.

The wave passes. They are almost touching now.

"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."

He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.

"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"

"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"

"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"

"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."

"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"

"Yes."

"But he's your-"

"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.

"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"

"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."

"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."

Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."

He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."

"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.

"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"

"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."

He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.

But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.

"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."

"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."

"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"

"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."

"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.

"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"

"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.

Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.

"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."

"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.

Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"

Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.

"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.

"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"

"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.

"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.

"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"

"Really, daughter, you should know better!"

Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.

"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."

"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.

"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."

Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.

"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."

Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."

Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."

Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."

"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ YES, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, AND YES, SHE'S REAL! ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen for the first time?

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it.

author's note: everyone welcome streamer!gojo to the world! he'll be here for a while...

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itadori: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??

[8lyme]

Heat Rises

Logan Howlett x f!Reader

SUMMARY: The mansion is boiling hot

WARNINGS: excessive use of italicisation, borderline dirty thoughts, makeout scene bc that's the best i can do, maybe ooc bc I fear I imagine Logan a little funnier than he actually is.

a/n: the ac in my room broke and inspiration struck after I doomscrolled through wolverine edits on tiktok ... chat i love men

It was hot. Boiling. Stifling.

You woke up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, sucking in a deep breath of hot, stale air. Grogginess fading, you stumble from your bed while pulling of your shirt and pajama pants. You open the door to the bathroom and turn the cold water on in the sink.

The heat was dripping down your back despite your lack of clothing. Overheating and still half-asleep, you stuck your head into the stream of cold water, splashing over your neck and across your shoulders.

You straighten to tie your hair up before turning the water off and running your still cold hands down your arms. The patter of thudding sounded outside your door, and you move to dress in a thin tank top and shorts.

You let your eyes adjust to the light as you began walking down the hallway of the mansion. A few children slipped out of their rooms in similar sweaty conditions to follow you down the staircase and onto the main floor.

Gathered by the professor's office were Scott, Storm, and Jean. The stray young mutants who trailed you settling around them.

"Goodmorning," You call out the the group.

"Do you know who turned this place into a boiler?" Jean asks. You both swipe sweat off your foreheads in sync while you shrug, shaking your head.

"Jesus, my glasses are gonna slide off my face," Scott complains, knocking his head against the wall in exasperation. He was shirtless, (rightfully so) wearing what you guessed were swim trunks.

"Charles is working on it," Jean put a hand on his shoulder, then quickly removing it to wipe his sweat off her hand and down the wall.

You turn to Storm, who was pulling the fabric of her tank top to fan herself off.

"Do we know where Bobby is?" You ask in search of the Iceman. You turned to scan the room, addressing the three students who followed you.

"Pretty sure him and Rogue took off before lights out," a young girl from the floor calls out. Her mutation rubberized her molecules, and her legs were in misshapen puddles - akin to flat stanley - due to the heat.

"Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here," a familiar voice groans loudly from behind you. "Nice shorts." Logan said to you before reaching your side.

"Alright fashion police," you respond in mock annoyance, offering a small smile at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He shot you a wink before turning away. When you caught full sight of him, your face froze and (if possible) more sweat rolled down your spine.

It was sickening how attractive he managed to look in what felt like the inside of an air fryer. Having clearly just woken up, his hair was perfectly tousled into a messier version of his normal tufts. His hair hardly looked damp despite the oiled-up glow he had on his face ...

And torso.

Fuck he was shirtless.

Although you've known Logan for the better part of a year, you unfortunately failed to experience him half-dressed. You'd been in close proximity frequently - sparring and other various training taking a large percent of that. You were friendly with each other, his acknowledgement of you with a nod whenever you walked in a room affirming he didn't hate you. You normally ate breakfast together, often offering the other the last portion of cereal or setting aside an extra cup of coffee for whoever entered the kitchen second. Within the last few months, however, after a particularly unfortunate mission gone wrong in almost every way, your friendship became more affectionate in those 'off the clock' moments.

Quick but firm hugs, slinging his arm over your shoulders, nudging each other with elbows or hips at inside jokes. He'd also been placing a hand on your back or shoulder every time he was in proximity to do so when moving behind you; in the kitchen, during briefings, even while you were grading papers in the library. He would touch your shoulder to let you know he was moving past you or going to sit next to you.

All that is to say you were aware - in theory - he was well built. He was taller and broader than you, so you made an educated guess. Theory proven, but well beyond expectations.

A month ago, you and Scott had stopped at a Texas Roadhouse an hour outside of the city after having spent two weeks clearing out a mutant experimentation lab in eastern Quebec. The plump and shine of the appetizer rolls (that you and Scott had both equally asked for seconds of) had absolutely nothing on Logan.

He damn near glistened. The dim light of the mansion sconces bronzed his skin, cutting him into an even more defined picture for you to look at. His chest expanded with each breath, shoulders and pecs slightly flexing in response. His hands lazed on his hips, if even possible causing the room's shadows to shade in the dips of his biceps and forearms. The veins of his arms just barely covered by the moisture-slicked hair covering his skin. If you had a fork and knife, you would throw them behind you to happily eat a piece of him with your hands.

You had to force yourself to swallow to shock your brain into looking anywhere else. You made an 'eaugh' sound and swiped your hands across your face. You meant it defensively, but you really were dripping into your eyes.

"I feel like I'm being waterboarded," you say disgustedly while wiping your palms on the back of your shorts. Feeling a texture that wasn't fabric, you turned your head. Glancing down, you understood Logan's earlier comment.

These shorts must have been from your freshman year of high school that somehow never got tossed or donated. They were a pair of (very) short, low-cut and dull pink velour Juicy Couture shorts with the word 'Juicy' spelled out in rhinestones on the ass. You actually felt like hurling as your body got even hotter.

You slowly turned your face away from the glittery stones on your booty to unfortunately glance in Scott's direction. His hands covering his mouth to block how obviously he was holding in a laugh.

"Scott, don't even look at me right now," you groan in exasperation, crossing your arms over yourself in attempted modesty. Scott's eyes glitter, and you snap "Keep your mouth shut" at him to no avail.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass?" He snickers. "In rhinestones?"

He's cracking up now with his hands in fists over his mouth. Jean bites a smile away and looks down, shaking to stifle a giggle. You look across the room to the kids who are choking down laughter themselves.

"Oh my fucking God-uh!" you again groan out, covering your eyes. "I really liked Jersey Shore when I was in High School, guys, leave me alone!"

Storm bursts into a laugh that inspires the others to join in. You're cracking up too, mortification disappearing. You glance at Logan through your fingers, who surprisingly seems to be choking back a laugh himself.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan clears his throat. "Save her from embarrassment?"

"Not how it works," She says. "I can't pull cold air or moisture out of this heat to create any snow." She looks at you and winks. "Sorry J-Wow, the shorts are staying on."

Scott about keels over with a snort before Jean thwaps him in the shoulder.

"If we bring you enough bags of ice, could you use that to cool the building down then?" Jean asks.

"In theory," Storm says. "I can stay here with the students to wait for the professor if you all don't mind searching for some. I'll need to conserve energy if I have to create a blizzard out of thin air."

"Copy. Divide and conquer," you say glancing at Logan again. The four of you turn to wander the mansion, but you stop to turn back to Storm.

"Also," you call back to her. "I'm so obviously Snooki."

Scott barks a laugh from the other corridor as you trot after Logan. He turns to meet you with a confused look on his face.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

Logan daydreamed about upper-cutting Scott with his claws unsheathed. He fantasized about throwing him down the stairs and curb-stomping him after. He imagined speeding over him on his own motorcycle and drilling him into the asphalt.

Right now, as your face flushed with embarrassment over your bedazzled booty shorts, he wished he had enacted any of those in reality so he had never, ever, heard Scott say a word about your ass.

Logan was used to waking up in a sweat, heart racing as he yelled out in anger (or fear, he couldn't tell which) from the nightmare that slipped from him the longer his eyes were open.

This time, he awoke uncomfortably hot and sprawled out diagonally above his sheets. He pushed himself up onto his knees and rubbed his eyes. He took a beat to wake himself up and stared at the clock on his nightstand blinking at 2:00 am.

He found it impossibly hotter in the hallway, swiping his palms on his pants every few steps. He regretted not scouring his room for shorts or even a pair of briefs. He moved down the stairs and rounded, following the sound of conversation. He dragged his sweaty palms across his pants again, groaning out; "Christ, it's fuckin' hot in here".

And then he almost tripped over his own feet.

You stood facing away from him, hands clasped on top of your head, in the tiniest clothing humanly possible. You wore a thin, strappy little yellow tank top that ghosted just under your ribs. In the dimmed lighting, your skin glistened, droplets of sweat gliding down your neck, your spine - fucking hell, was your sweat turning him on? - down your lower back, and -

Logan just about stopped in his tracks.

Impossibly tiny pink shorts clung to your ass, riding low on your hips. In glittering rhinestone, the word Juicy was bedazzled over the fabric. He felt like a dumb moth to a flame, trying to look like he wasn't seconds away from using his hands for some workplace misconduct.

"Nice shorts," he managed, trying to shake his head clear.

"Alright fashion police," you smirked up at him. "Didn't know you worked this late."

He winked at you, turning away to avoid staring at the beads sliding down your collar bone. Trying even harder to not imagine where the droplets would travel next.

Too focused on thinking about anything else in the world other than you, he blinked back into reality after Scott's voice grated his ears.

"Do your shorts say Juicy on your ass? In rhinestones?"

Whatever you or anyone else responds with falls on his deaf ears. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood. His face tightened and he clenched his jaw.

He coughed to clear his head and interject into whatever conversation he's too furious to tune in to.

"Storm, can't you make it snow or something to-", Logan paused, coughing again to catch himself from saying anything related to freezing Scott solid so he can shatter him to pieces. He settled on "Save her from embarrassment?"

Once again, Logan half-listened and half-internally plotted extreme violence, perking back in at the sound of your voice. He turned to you as you catch up with him.

"What the fuck is a Snooki?"

---

You declined to continue to explain trash TV to Logan. You settled on "It's entertaining to watch people be out of touch with reality", to which he quipped back a "That's stupid", effectively shutting you up.

The both of you wandered to the kitchen, you fanning yourself as Logan tried not to burst a blood vessel while holding to his willpower to not watch you tilt your head back and exhale while uttering whines of complaint. He decided the amount that his was sweating coupled with the lack of sleep made him delusional. That's why his brain kept trailing back to the same thought: you.

You pulled open the bottom drawer of the fridge, exposing the freezer. The rush of cool air fanned at your skin, and you signed in relief.

"Logan," you call, eyes closed. You waved him over and he leaned next to you.

"Oh my god," he quietly uttered out, eyes closing in relief. "Oh my god, this is better than sex."

You snorted and slapped your hand to your mouth.

"Logan, shut the fuck up" you giggle. He snickers back with you, shoulders shaking.

"Aw man," you groan, staring into the freezer drawer. Inside, there was an empty popsicle box, an half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream, and an unwrapped ice-cream sandwich with freezer burn. You and Logan met each other's eyes with matching disappointed expressions.

You shut the freezer drawer, straightening up.

"I think there's a freezer in the basement lab," Logan says, sweat instantly beginning to drip down his neck.

"Aw man," you respond, lifting your arms slightly as sweat slides down you as well.

"Come on, bub," He moves around behind you. You feel the familiar ghost of his fingers against your back, but you recoil away at the thought of more heat against your body.

Logan yanked his hand away like he had been burned, gaze raking from you to his hand. You keep walking, not realizing how far behind you he's trailing.

---

He tries to shake it off, he really does. He feels stupid for letting something so small seep into his head and twist his thoughts around.

It's just because it's hot, he thinks to himself. Rationally, yes, he knows that is the answer. And yet he stupidly can't help but overthink every interaction he's had with you.

He masks it with a stony expression. The walk to the elevator is sticky and humid. When you both step in, he strays as far away from you as he can.

You've felt the shift in energy from him. He's pressed against the curved wall, arms crossed over his chest. It's palpable, but you aren't the type to pry when Logan is brooding.

He slips out of the opening doors first, relinquishing in the slightly cooler air of the lab. You trail after.

The air is awkward now. You fumble in your brain for the right words to say to him. 'Are you okay?' doesn't seem to cut it.

You've come to understand Logan. He has a complicated relationship with feelings and is awful at communication. If you don't notice the energy shift and bring it up, it isn't getting spoken about.

You follow him to a white metal crate pressed near a cabinet of saline. It's clasped shut and luckily on wheels. The precipitation on the outside confirming this is what you were looking for.

You place your hands on the corners of the crate to slide it from the wall, but Logan damn near rips it out of your hands. He shoves it across the lab towards the elevator.

You stare at him in shock and confusion. Your thoughts whir as you replay every moment from the entire day, convinced that he's pissed at you. He seems pissed. He's acting pissed.

You reach the elevator just as the door slides open. You're trying to decide if you should say something. Trying to think of a way to approach this in a way that will actually get him to talk. The air in the elevator is thick, more so with his shift in attitude than with heat.

Logan is locking himself inside his head. He can’t organize his thoughts and all he feels is stupidity. He can't understand why he's over analyzing, much less what he's over analyzing.

He doesn't know it's basically radiating off of him. Unaware that you've been staring at him to try and decipher what's wrong.

You utter out "Are you okay?" just to cut through the thick silence (and hopefully the wall he's locked himself in). You're sure he hears you, but the sliding of the door gives him the perfect opportunity to continue to ignore you.

Again, you trail after him. The wheels scrape against the hardwood, a testament to how hard he is pressing into the metal.

You're confused, sweaty, and almost on the verge of nonconsensual tears when you reach Storm and the other kids. The girl from the floor has turned into mostly puddle. Everything besides the tip of her shoulders and up are deflated to the wood. The other kids have spread to the floor themselves.

Logan shoves the crate towards Storm.

"Alright," he says curtly, once again crossing his arms. "Cool this shit down."

You fiddle with your fingers as Storm unlatches the metal. Her eyes gloss over to a milky white while she lifts the lid. The temperature drops almost instantly, and you begin to shiver.

"Done," She says, blinking away the glaze. "Charles said that-"

"Great," Logan cuts her off with a slam of the metal lid. He slides it around before moving back towards the elevator. You glance back and forth between Storm and Logan for a second. When you meet her confused expression, she gestures back towards him.

Ignoring the comfort of your sheets and lack of emotional drainage, you jog after Logan.

---

He huffs at you when you reach his side.

"I can push a metal box by myself," he says dismissively.

"Okay," you say, just to get something in the air. "Am I not allowed to come with you?"

You regret even speaking anyways as he scoffs at you, kicking the crate into the opening of the sliding door. It hits the wall with a loud clang. You flinch, but you're more concerned about him to not slip into the door at the last second.

You hug yourself as you start to shiver. Logan rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and turns away from you to lean against the wall. For the third time tonight.

You are racking your brain. Screaming at yourself to say something, literally any words at all. It feels like you've been panic-searching your thoughts for anything to say for a while.

"Are we not moving?" You ask. You wait for an answer before repeating, calling him by name and moving to stand in front of him.

He huffs before standing straight. After a beat, he says "We're not."

"Shit, how should we -" You start, but are cut of by the metallic unsheathing of Logan's Claws. In a blur he rears back and slices through the door, scraping three parallel lines across the metal.

"Jesus Christ, Logan!" You snap out at him. The glare he gives you while his claws sink into his skin makes you back up into the wall.

"What the hell is your problem?" you say evenly.

He scoffs at you, muttering out "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You just sliced the wall open," You point out, gesturing to said wall. "And you're acting like you're pissed at me"

"You're imagining things," he says back, resuming his position against the wall with his arms folded.

"Oh, that's bullshit. You're literally sulking in the corner and you want to tell me that isn't happening."

Logan stays silent. You almost expect him to turn into the wall so he can pretend to not see you.

"Logan," you say, trying to catch his eyes. "Why can't you be upfront with me? It's very easy to say 'Hey, you pissed me off because of this' or 'Oh, something sparked a bad memory' or, I don't know, 'I don't want to talk about it' "

"I don't want to talk about it," he responds. You smack the back of your head into the wall behind you in exasperation.

"Oh my god, obviously that was just an example. Please just tell me what's wrong."

Logan raises his eyes to meet yours for just a second. You catch his gaze, and you can tell that he wants to tell you. When you quietly say his name he looks away.

"Logan, you’re being mean." Your eyes flick over him, trying to catch any more indication that he'll open up. He stays stoick, stubborn piece of shit. You decide to wait just a moment longer before giving up. If he's going to be this adamant about whatever happened, you aren't about to keep fighting him on it.

"Okay, you’re pissing me off and I give up" You spit, sinking to the floor. You draw your legs up and fold into yourself, the chill of the room sinking into your skin.

It takes a long, awkward amount of time sitting in silence before you her Logan speak.

"You're cold," he states.

"No, I'm not," you say into your arms. Shivering.

"You look cold," he once again states plainly.

"I'm not, stop talking to me."

"I thought you wanted me to talk," Logan retorts at you. You look up at him over your arms, seeing a smug look on his face.

"Yeah, if the words you say are 'Hey, I'm sorry I'm being a dickhead and shoving stuff around and slicing into walls and ignoring you. I'm just thinking about X,Y and Z, which is making me feel X,Y and Z,' and then I would say 'Oh my gosh Logan, I had no idea! I'm so sorry, I wish you told me so I didn't make a big deal out of it because I thought you hated me!" You snap at him, mocking his voice for emphasis.

He blinks at you, and you move your head back into your arms.

"I don't hate you," he says quietly.

"You're acting like it."

"I don't."

The softness in his voice makes you sigh. You decide to take it easy on him, and ask him to come to you.

"What?" he asks, hesitation evident in his tone.

"Can you come sit next to me, please?" You ask softly.

"Why?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.

"Because I'm cold and you run much warmer than I do."

He moves and sinks down beside you, thankfully. You scooch closer until your arm is against his. The warmth of his body radiates against yours.

"Can you please talk to me?" you break the silence. The smallness in your voice chips away at his resolve, but his pride is still in the way. He's embarrassed enough about being upset in the first place, he can hardly stand (much less find the words) to say anything to you.

"Look, I'll literally cover my eyes so I'm not even looking at you," you offer, covering your eyes with your palms. "Please, just tell me."

"It's stupid," Logan says, pride dwindling down.

"I don't care, I promise. Please, Logan," You plead.

He sighs loudly, searching for the right words. He stutters out a few syllables before managing a sentence.

"In the kitchen earlier, you flinched away from me. I don't know. Didn't feel great."

Your hands dropped from your face. He was staring down at the floor. He looked embarrassed, maybe downright ashamed. You gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Logan, I'm sorry. It was just so hot and I felt all gross and sweaty. I didn't mean anything by it, I swear."

"Okay," he says, but his eyes never left the floor.

"And that's not stupid. I freak out over the tiniest things in the world."

"Yeah?" he huffs out a small laugh, finally turning to you.

"Yes, duh, I'm a girl. One time you didn't sit in the stool right next to me and I had to suck my tears back in and I thought about it for two days straight," you told him.

"Because I didn't sit next to you?" he teases, and you push off of his arm in mock annoyance.

"Yes, I'm not kidding. I remember once when you came back from a mission you ignored me when I said 'hi' to you on the stairs and locked yourself in your room for almost two days. I was genuinely convinced you wanted me dead and I couldn't function until you'd brought me toast because you thought I was sick."

"You weren't sick?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"No! I thought you wanted me to jump into oncoming traffic!" You laugh at yourself, feeling ridiculous after replaying those few days back in your head.

"Okay, okay, I get what you mean. I don't want you dead, by the way. Never will." His face has relaxed and the tension in the air completely dissipated. You tilted to rest your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat and enjoying the comfortable silence.

"Seems like I get you pretty worked up, huh?" Logan smiles to himself, knowing he'll get a rise out of you.

"I'm not answering that," you snort, giving him a side eye.

"Are you kidding me?" He says in a deadpan.

"No! I'm not answering that," you sputter, forcing an even tone out of yourself. "Why'd you get so upset about me moving away from you?" You shoot back.

"I'm not answering that," he says, and you now shove him away jokingly.

"Oh, come on!"

You both start to giggle at each other, needing to look at anywhere except at the other. Weight has been lifted off both of your chests, being stuck in the elevator long forgotten.

"So," Logan speaks, letting the word hang in the air for a second. He wonders if the feelings he's completely sure are mutual should remain unspoken. "Are either of us gonna do anything about," he gestures to the both of you. "Or..."

"Oh man, I was wondering which one of us was going to take the bait first," you giggle out to mask the nervousness settling in your chest. "You almost had me, I never figured you'd say anything."

"Did I?" He asks. You turn to him and meet his gaze, smirking at him. You hum happily after a few seconds, turning away from him to lean on his arm once more.

"So," Logan says again, so you mock him and echo the word back.

"So," he tries again, obviously wanting a certain response from you. You bite, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Oh my god, you can just kiss me. I'm cold, I'm not moving my arms," you say to him, earning a short laugh from him.

Logan moves and scoops you into him, sandwiching your arms between both your bodies. You slide one of your hands up him so that your fingertips reach his collarbone. His nose is just touching yours, and he tilts, barely touching your lips.

"So," he whispers against you. You snort and shove his face away with your free hand.

"Okay, nevermind! Get away from me!" You giggle, Logan following suit.

You feel Logan's hand move to the back of your neck, and you blink at him a few times with a small smile. Finally, he leans down to kiss you. You snake your free hand up to the side of his neck and grasp onto a few tufts of his soft hair. He leans into your touch slightly, so your curl your fingers in response.

One of his arms releases you to brace the floor for support, the other moving to hold you tighter. His fingers splayed across your shoulder blade as you slip your other arm out. You slide your hand up the side of his abdomen, almost moaning when the feeling of his back muscles reach your fingers.

You both pull away for a second to breathe before diving back into each other. Logan pulls you towards him, hand that was on the floor now sliding down your side to squeeze at the flesh of your hips.

He pulls back from you and presses and open mouthed kiss just under your ear. You crane your head back in response while feeling your way up the front of his body. Your fingers dip over the curves of his abs and over his chest, and then slide over his shoulder and down his arms. You think about the glisten of his body earlier in the night, the shadows of his muscular biceps and forearms.

"You and these damn shorts," he groans between the kisses he's now leaving on your collar. You let out a breathy laugh.

"I'll take them off later, they don't even fit," you say, pulling his face up so you can kiss him again.

"I hope you'll let me help," he says into your open mouth, causing you to squeeze your thighs together as you heat up.

The shrieking sound of metal against metal surrounds you both, and you shove Logan off you to scramble to your feet. He moves besides you, claws unsheathed on instinct.

The door of the elevator slowly slides open, coming to a halt while it's halfway open. Charles and Jean were waiting from the outside.

"There you both are," Jean huffs out. "You've been gone for about an hour."

"What time is it?" Logan asks, moving out into the mansion floor and sinking his claws back into his knuckles. You follow behind, the chill coming back to your skin.

"About 4:30 in the morning," Charles replies, gliding away from the opening of the metal door. "I suggest you all get some sleep while it's still early." He looks pointedly at you and Logan before rolling to face Jean.

"Agreed. Goodnight you two," Jean says, moving down the hallway to her room.

You and Logan make your way up the stairs, still buzzing. You stop at his door while he opens it. He turns to face you. Once again, you're back to staring at each other hoping you both can understand what the other is thinking.

"Well, good night Logan," You sigh. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

"You're not coming in?" He says while leaning against the door frame.

"Oh," you begin, a smile nervously making its way to your face. "Well ... I ..."

"I gotta help you with those shorts, remember?"

You can't help the soft laugh that leaves your mouth. You move towards him and step just into the doorway.

"I'll take all the help I can get," You say up at him. He takes the opportunity to wrap you in his arm and move you both through the door.

He turns you both, pressing your back against the wall next to the doorway, shutting the door as he molds his lips into yours. His hand slides under your flimsy yellow tank top as you hear the click of the door lock.

More than likely, neither of you were getting much sleep tonight.

[eupheme]

— sharing is caring

[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 4k

tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink

It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.

(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)

The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.

It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.

A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.

It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.

Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.

Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.

You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.

Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.

But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.

Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.

"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."

It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.

"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"

Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.

“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”

It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.

“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”

Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.

"Don't have one."

It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.

'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"

Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."

"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.

Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.

Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”

There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.

“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”

There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.

“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”

As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.

The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.

“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”

You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.

A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.

You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.

He doesn’t let you down.

“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”

It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.

There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.

“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”

That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.

Teasing. Logan is teasing you.

You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.

It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.

How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.

You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.

“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”

Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.

“Thought it was a one-time thing.”

You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”

And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.

He huffs, and your voice softens.

“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

The look he gives you is searching.

“Wade put you up to this?”

You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek.

“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”

Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.

You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.

Neither one of you had stood a chance.

“I’m sorry.”

You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.

“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”

There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.

Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.

Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”

There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.

You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.

This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.

“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”

Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”

There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.

Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.

Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.

Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.

Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.

“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.

Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.

“I’m talking to king dong right here.”

There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”

“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”

“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”

He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.

It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.

“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”

Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.

“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”

A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.

“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”

The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.

“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”

There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.

He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.

“Cold day in hell before that happens.”

It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.

“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.

“I have a way of making people beg.”

You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.

The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.

There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.

It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.

“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”

Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.

Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.

“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”

The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.

“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.

Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.

A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.

You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.

It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.

“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.

There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.

A kiss dropped against your shoulder.

“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.

“That’s okay, I do too.”

His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.

A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”

Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.

Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.

“Room for two, honey.”

There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.

“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.

His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.

Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.

“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”

A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.

“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”

There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.

“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”

“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”

He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.

A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.

It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.

There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.

Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.

“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”

Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”

“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”

Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.

“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”

Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.

“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.

“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”

You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.

“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”

You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.

Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.

Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.

Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”

It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.

“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”

Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.

Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.

Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.

“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”

You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”

His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.

“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.

Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.

The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.

His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.

“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”

The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.

And if you were a betting girl…

You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.

Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.

“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”

A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”

Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.

Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.

“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.

A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”

Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.

“Don’t ruin it.”

Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.

“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.

His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”

“I’ll be right back.”

thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!

[ravensmadreads]

TAYLOR -

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

i breathe you in (and it changes me)

rating: teen pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2K summary: you've been here with him before - rock bottom. But this time, he gives you reason to hope for something new. warnings: alcohol use, mentions of drug use, physical fighting, blood, wounds, bruises, mentions of past toxic behavior a/n: your original ask @bitchwitch1981 got swallowed up by tumblr, so i had to create a new post :( but I wanted to say thank you so much for requesting this - it was more therapeutic to write than i initially thought!

1K ask:

Sweet Taylor, Congratulations on the amazing milestone! 💜 I have decided to go for astrology for The Midnight Seance. I have chosen the prompt “Hold my hand please?” “When you ask so nicely.” and my own darling Dieter Bravo.

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The damp heat of the night is made worse by the thick knot of chittering spectators by the back alley of the club. You can hear the fleshy blows, hear the flesh rip and tear the veins, the delighted groan of the crowd after a particularly sickening crunch. White lights of camera flashes flicker, the smell of blood acidic on your tongue, the metallic taste getting stronger the closer you get to the front of the crowd. You see the blur of an arm just as you shove aside a man recording the whole scene with his phone; how much will TMZ pay for even seven seconds of that video?

Across from you, a thick shadow with bloody knuckles paces like a caged tiger, snorting with rage, the spectators jeering and howling their approval. The man, twice as thick as you are, waits at the edge of the fight, his vision locked forward, massive hands itching to rip apart something alive. 

Whatever is left alive of the heap of clothes in front of you.

It shudders, arms and legs curling beneath it, and rolls backwards. The crowd lets out a disgusted groan at the sight of the bloody face. Your heart sinks to the sticky concrete.

Oh, Dieter.

Asphalt digs into your knees as you kneel down next to him, the sounds of the crowd fading as panic swells within you. He doesn’t even register that you’re there until you touch his cheek. One eye completely swollen shut, blood running down from his nose over his upper lip, he meets your gaze and flinches. 

“Sorry,” he slurs – either from his split lip or being drunk out of his mind, you can’t tell, “you look like my ex.” 

“Dieter, it’s me.” 

His collar is torn, blood speckles cover the front of his shirt, and his jeans are filthy. Judging by his own shredded knuckles, he might have actually gotten a few good hits in. Gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning. You put a hand on his shoulder, looking for any other open wounds, for more blood – and he shoves you off.

“Go away. I’m kicking this guy’s ass.” 

Groaning, Dieter staggers to his feet, the blood freely flowing from his nose now. He gets upright and immediately stumbles, hands going to his knees, much to the deformed glee of the crowd. They whoop and laugh and hold their phones higher. 

Even in heels, you’re several inches shorter than him and you intentionally didn’t wear that much clothing – you were going to club with your friends to forget – but you try to shield him from the camera lenses anyway. 

From the back of his throat, Dieter spits out a wad of blood. “Fuck, my head hurts.” The drool that slips from his mouth is pink and frothy.

“Dieter, c’mon, we’re going.” 

You drag his arm over your shoulder, shifting as much of his weight onto you as you can. His entire back and underneath his arm is drenched in what you pray is sweat. Behind you, you know the other man is yelling, shouting, something about teaching that fat mouth a lesson, but you do what you’ve alway done when it comes to Dieter: you put yourself between him and an oncoming car crash. 

Hoping a grown man won’t take a full swing with a woman in kitten heels and a slinky dress nearby, you half-push, half-carry Dieter back towards the way you came in, but you make it two more steps before he pushes you away again, his fingertips drifting down your shoulder. His face is twisted up in agony.

“Fuckin’ stop. I don’t need your help.”

You grab him by the bicep, twisting him to you again, and he stumbles, muttering a gruff sorry. Blood from his nose drips down onto your bare chest. He watches it, transfixed, his emotions crackling from one high to the next low. 

You cup his bruised, swollen jaw and his wet eyes meet yours and for an instant, no one else exists. His bottom lip trembles. 

“Dieter” you murmur, low enough for just him to hear, just enough for him to lean forward, to let himself be captured by you – briefly – just as he always had been. “We’re going home, okay?”

He nods, eyes shut, swaying, and lets himself be dragged away. 

Beyond the black partition, you hear music. Too soft to be distinct, too faint. Yet it sits between your teeth all the same, hums in the back of your jaw. Static noise. 

In your lap, lays Dieter’s head. Your skirt feels damp from where the blood from his nose gathers. It stopped dripping minutes ago but the spot still feels cold, still thick with it. Your hand curls in his hair, loose but weighted. Grounding. He always said this was his favorite spot in the entire world. 

You didn’t tell the driver to go east, towards Sherman Oaks, but the opposite direction, towards the rental property you kept by the beach. Before that, home had always been Sherman Oaks, but . . . in the after, you couldn’t even bear to see the name on the sign. 

Partially it’s practical. Given the swarmed mob, there most likely was another one waiting for him at the gates to his mansion. He doesn’t have his phone, you know, which is most likely a curse and a blessing. When it comes to moments like these, you’ve learned to deal with the problem right in front of you, one at a time. Or rather, the one in your lap. 

You swore you’d never be here again, you swore that you’d learn to unremember what here even feels like, and yet you ran to him all the same. This is not the first time you wonder if leaving him bleeding and drooling into the concrete would have been the right thing to do. 

The car drives you both towards the rental because you want him there. You want him to fill up that empty space in your bed, smear the too messy sink in the bathroom with uncharged electric toothbrushes and toothpaste that tastes like cotton candy, and bring a sense of wonder back into your increasingly dark days. But with all that, comes this. The black partition ahead of you blurs, your eyes grow hot and tight, submissive to the beaks of birds, and the back of your fingers not caught in his hair press harshly to the back of your mouth. You fight a shudder because you know he can’t bear to see you cry. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

His apologies always start like this, a little broken, a little roundabout way of getting to the heart of things. You sniff, your hand slipping to his shoulder and grasping it tight. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay, baby?”

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

Your head bumps the back of the seat, as you swallow a sob and a laugh all at once. You squeeze him – no, no, of course not, you never mean it, you never mean any of it — 

“My therapist said they would help. And then they did. But I couldn’t get you back.”

He mutters something, rubbing his face slowly in your lap, like a blind kitten, his big hand over your knees, but you’re too stunned to parse out his babbling. 

“You went to therapy?” 

“Still in it.” He wheezes through a bruised rib. “She’s gonna be so pissed about this.” 

“You’re not high?” 

He shake-rubs his head again, the curls at his forehead catching against the sequins of your top. “Just drunk. I fucking hate being drunk.” 

He babbles some more, the words looped on tangled string, but you sit up, and gently turn his face towards you. The bleeding has stopped, but the swelling has set in. His right eye is black and blue, the skin puffy and tender. There’s a cut across his left cheek and his lip is split down the middle. Fuck, if these don’t heal right, that could be the end of his career. 

Goddamn it – and why would you care about that? It’s not your job to care anymore. 

You reverently trace a finger over his black eye, his cheek, his lips, to the blood on his temple. Tragedy always looked so good on him. 

His hand catches yours. You think his good eye might be filled with tears.

“I tried to get better . . . for you. For us. I took all the right pills, instead of the wrong ones this time, and I thought I was better.” Dieter shifts, so his back is against the seat and he’s looking straight up at you. He holds your hand to his chest, his other rising up to cup your cheek. That single touch cracks your resolve, your rule against letting him affect you, and you cry. He watches the silent tears roll down your cheeks, over his thumb. You think he looks remorseful. “I tried to get better and you moved on without me.”

It only just now occurs to you that he had most likely been inside the club when you had, had probably seen you and never said anything. He watched you dance and drink and try to forget him with other sweaty bodies and he never said a thing.

Bruised anger, the kind that melts off your ribs, flares bright within you and you jerk your face away from his touch.

“You don’t get to blame me for your shit anymore, Dieter.” 

His fingers curl and he swallows, the dried blood around his mouth cracking. “No, baby, I’m not. I’m not. I’m sorry I ever did. I didn’t mean it, I never mean it – never meant to hurt you. But I do, don’t I? I hurt you all the time.” 

Your anger throbs. “Then why? Why, Dieter, would you wait to get help until after I was gone? Didn’t you want to try . . . to salvage something, anything between us?”

His hand drops to his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

You suddenly recognize the weight of his head on your lap, the density of his shoulders against your lap, and you, in a cycle of regret and love, want to scream at him. Want to shake him. Instead you brush his sticky curls off his forehead and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye, down his temple. 

“You silly, silly boy.” You sniff, tears freely flowing, and curl a strand of his beautiful hair in your fingers. “I would have been there for you. I’m glad you got help, and I hate that this was a relapse, but I would never have judged you for trying to get better, even if you failed. You were the one who didn't want me to see that side of you, Dieter. I never stopped loving you.”

For a moment, he goes still, the darkness of the night street obscuring his face, blurring him into one dark shadow that wheezed and sighed. You’re about to seek out his hand in the dark, if not his face, not his wounds, when he lets out the most broken noise you’d ever heard come from anyone. 

It’s a noise that will haunt you in nightmares for years to come.

“Oh,” he says. 

The car rolls to a stop, the faint music barely heard over the rush and crash of the waves on the other side of your rental. The radio goes silent and the partition rolls down. 

“We’re here, miss.” 

You wipe your eyes, mascara streaks turning your finger tips black, and cough to clear the knot in your throat that beats in time with your heart. Hands curling under his shoulders, you move to lift him up off your lap.

“C’mon, Dieter, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up–,”

“Wait.” He visibly swallows, nothing else on his face so clear in the dark. You feel a faint drop on your skirt. “I mean, I’ll go but . . . hold my hand – please?” 

Despite yourself, despite him, despite your tear-drenched lips, you lean down and kiss his forehead. Your shared shaky breaths are trapped between your chest and his.  “Only when you ask so nicely.”

+

[distortedwhite]

cathy vc/ normal person behavior *insert dm to fanfic author just gushing about one of author's fanfics*

okay whatever you say cathy

[6toru]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 !

synopsis. upon recovering from a recent breakup with your longtime boyfriend, you find yourself confiding in a certain raven-haired man who is more than pleased to show you the rhapsodies of pleasure that his idiot of a cousin failed to give you. 

pairing. zen'in toji x fem!reader genre. age gap au + smut cw. mature content (mdni), slight slow burn, slight angst, ooc!toji (pls be warned), p in v -> unprotected sex, age gap (reader in mid 20s + toji’s in his mid 30s), infidelity, slap on the cheek (m), consumption of alcohol, loads of tension, big dick!toji, rough sex, cervix fucking, explicit language/dirty talk, fingering, squirting, oral sex (m+f), reader’s on the pill, creampiez, toji calls you “doll”, toji’s not a papaguro </3 + voyeurism & public sex (in extra scene)

wc. 16k

author's note. another repost of my work from my previous blog (chosai), and this is undeniably one of my top fav writing pieces <3

FOR THREE LONG YEARS, you genuinely believed that this man, Zen'in Naoya, was going to be the one you'd marry. However, one curious peek on his unlocked phone proved you wrong – terribly, terribly wrong. All those years spent on believing your mundane love life was due to your boyfriend’s grueling office job; often working long hours, and then coming home straight to the bed to fall asleep before waking up again and heading back to work — and all those messages proved your theories wrong. He wasn’t the workaholic he said he was, after all. The sounds of the shower running egged you to continue scrolling down his phone, feeling a myriad of emotions coursing through your veins; be it anger, dread, sadness, denial, and betrayal. You felt it all.

Trembling, you attempted to fight the tears as you continued to scroll; trying to retain everything before he finished his shower. Naoya spoke absolute filth in those texts, and you could barely believe it. There came the pictures of an attractive woman showing off her lingerie, thanking him for buying it for her. For as long as you were with Naoya, he had never bought you lingerie – he had never spoken to you so affectionately and lewdly compared to how he had spoken to the woman on his messages nor did he ever manage to finish you off, chasing after his release above all else. Your sex life was less than mundane, but you didn't try to make it a bigger issue for the overwhelmed Zen'in, so you relented – despite all this, you wanted to be understanding. However, you couldn't have been any more wrong.

To say you were flabbergasted was truly an understatement. For the past year that was spent talking about marriage and your future, your boyfriend had gone on week-long 'business trips' – to which you had later found out was a front so he could fuck his coworker.

"Ah, what the hell," you mumbled to yourself as you scrolled through his phone continuously, staring intensely at the screen. You then stumbled across a picture of Naoya, shirtless with a mischievous smirk. Almost immediately, you slapped your hand against your mouth; reading the messages in horror. 

NAOYA: I'll come visit you tonight. You better be keeping that on by the time I arrive. I wanna take it off you myself. AIRI: You're getting me excited lol AIRI: Just come here quickly and fuck me already babe~

You genuinely wanted to throw up. You turned his phone off and placed it back on the coffee table; you had seen enough. Coincidentally, the sound of the shower running came to a halt and you could hear the faint sounds of your soon to be ex dressing up for a "drinking party with his male colleagues". What a fucking liar, he was. You leaned your back against the couch, trying to keep your focus on the television while you attempted to control the burst of emotions that were more than desperate to come out.

The sound of the door creaking brought you back to the present, and you snapped your gaze over to Naoya in his casual business attire. You couldn’t control the biting scoff that left your lips. He had the audacity to look at you, confused. "Babe? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"

Babe. Hearing that word roll of his mouth, smooth like honey, was the sheer equivalent of him rubbing salt on your open wound; knowing damn well that you weren't the only one he was seeing. You didn't know how long he hid this from you, and you were honestly afraid to know the answer. However deep down, you knew you needed to know. You reached your arm towards the remote, turning the television off. It was silent now. You returned your attention towards the male with a cold gaze.

"We need to talk," you said firmly, yet your voice was slow as you tried to maintain the stability within your emotions that were moments away from bursting out of your chest. The male rubbed the back of his neck, a dry chuckle leaving his lips; his sharp brown eyes averting from your intense glare.

"Can't we wait? I can't be late for the party. The guys are already waiting for me—"

"The guys, you say?" You interrupted Naoya, laughing bitterly as the beads of tears you had desperately tried so hard to control trailed down your cheeks. “Or, is it Airi?”

Oh, how you wished you could take a picture of Naoya’s face the exact moment his mistress’ name left your lips. 

"What…?" Naoya’s voice had gone quiet, his eyes wide in both shock and horror. "W-What are you talking about?"

Even when caught, rather than admitting it – he still chose to act innocent. You shook your head in dismay, already feeling your composure crumble. 

"There's no use playing stupid, Naoya. It only makes me feel even more embarrassed for you." You said solemnly, your eyes clouded with tears. You could barely make out the facial expressions he was making, but just hearing his desperate excuses just added more to the ache that was growing within your chest.

"We'll make this short and quick," you continued. "After all, your Airi is getting impatient waiting for you in the lingerie you bought her."

Naoya gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed down at you. "You looked at my phone while I was showering."

"Isn't that obvious?" you bit back, wiping your tears. "Anyway, how long were you and this woman seeing each other?"

You wanted to smack him until his cheeks turned red, but you held yourself back. "Answer me, Naoya."

His facade crumbled and if you thought you didn't recognize him enough, he effortlessly continued to prove you wrong. He looked down at you coldly, sneering at you. It stung, you had never seen him make such an expression.

"And how is this any of your business, hm?" He said, leaning down towards you with a cold glint in his gaze. "In any case, this should be your fault. You can't even satisfy me in bed! Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone out to seek out for another woman––"

Smack!

The loud sound of your palm making contact with his cheek resonated across the silent living room, the satisfying sting egging you on to slap him a second time. "You make me nauseous. You're surprisingly very audacious for someone who got caught red-handed, cheating.”

You pointed a finger at his chest, prodding harshly against his sternum. You didn't give him a moment to come down from the shock of you slapping the shit out of him. "Fucking answer me, Naoya. How long have you been seeing this woman?"

He mumbled his words, at first. They were barely coherent and you struck him a nasty glare. “What’s that again?”

"Two and a half years," the male grumbled out, holding onto his stinging cheek before mumbling softly. "Agh, fuck that hurts."

You could hear your heart shatter into a million pieces; you could no longer control the onslaught of tears that escaped your eyes.

"Even while we had talks about our future and discussed marriage?" You laughed bitterly through tears. You shook your head, crossing your arms together. You couldn't believe you wasted your time on this man. But then again, good fucking riddance; though the ache in your heart felt otherwise.

"That's all I wanted to know," you said, before turning your back to him.

"You... You're not even going to ask me why I did this?"

"No, there's no need to." You replied quietly. "I loved you and respected all your wishes even when you were too 'busy' to spend time with me. Regardless of whatever fucked up reason you had to cheat on me, I know well enough that it's not my fault."

Naoya stayed silent, but you could tell he was feeling frustrated.

"You're most likely going to keep fucking your coworker behind my back even after we get engaged or even married. So why not just end everything now?" You further added through your persistent tears and sniffles. "So, from now on, go ahead and do whatever. We’re done.”

There was a tinge of guilt present in his eyes, but you weren’t going to let it faze you. “Hey look, Y/N…”

You averted your gaze from his, and you can feel your lips beginning to tremble once again. He attempted to reach his arm up to you, but he paused and retracted when his phone resting atop the coffee table began to ring, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You both looked over to the phone, and a familiar name popped up on the screen. It was Airi. You pressed your lips together, blinking rapidly. 

You already knew who he was going to end up choosing. It was a no-brainer. 

You sighed and turned away, “Just go. You can get all your stuff and leave tomorrow morning.”

Making a beeline to your bedroom door and slamming it shut, you plopped down on the soft mattress and all emotions that you tried so desperately to contain had resurfaced; stuffing your face into a pillow, you wailed and wailed — succumbing to heartbreak.

Bitterness swelled in your chest when you heard your ex’s faint voice in the living room as he answered the call. “Yeah, I’m sorry babe. I’m heading straight over to you now.”

The door closed, and then came in the silence — however, not without the solemn echoes of your heartbreak. In the end, he didn’t choose you. After what felt like an eternity, your tears had finally dried up, but you stayed in the bed that was once shared between yourself and your now ex-lover. You needed to get your mind off things.

So there you were, clad in an oversized shirt as you walked down the empty streets of your neighborhood, strolling over to the nearest convenience store with your cold hands stuffed in the pockets of your sweatpants. Initially, you thought that walking outside could’ve helped with getting your mind off of things, however, it merely did the opposite; a string of curses leaving your lips in forms of mumbles with each moment that Zen'in crossed your mind.

You didn't realize how quickly fifteen minutes had passed until you stepped into the convenience store, immediately greeted with the cashier's voice laced in both fatigue and boredom. Scanning through the aisles of foods and other necessities, you mentally pondered on what you wanted to get. Bottles of beer, was definitely on the very top of your list. Oddly enough, you didn't have the appetite for anything else.

Purchasing the bottles came by quickly, and you immediately dipped out of the store and headed straight home, your worn out slippers continuously making contact with the concrete with each step you took. Your mind was relentless with attacking you with thoughts of Naoya and Airi, the woman he was seeing behind your back – and all you could think was that you wish you had caught him sooner, rather than trusting him with all your heart could muster and let him do whatever for 'work'. Biting your lips and blinking your eyes rapidly, you had desperately avoided letting out your tears once again; your face was already stained enough with your dried up tears.

As if the universe didn't prove to you enough that they weren't on your side, the skies above began to pour. It didn't even begin with a mere drizzle, not even close. Within seconds, your clothes were drenched and you tried to rush to the nearest shade – however, much to your dismay, there was none and the only solution was to run back home.

Your socks became soaked as well as your shirt, which was uncomfortably stuck to your skin, running through the dark neighborhood with your plastic bag filled with alcohol bottles used as a makeshift umbrella in hopes that it would shield you against the merciless attacks from the sky; yet, it all ended in vain when you tripped over a small crack in the concrete, your body immediately making contact with the cold and wet ground.

Fuck me backwards, that was the sole sentence that went through your mind as you fought back the frustrated tears that threatened to leave your eyes. You stayed on the ground, feeling defeated.

Then, there was a shadow casting above you and the rain stopped. You peered up through your weepy eyes, only for your attention to snap towards a familiar scar on the edge of a man's lips.

"You okay there, doll?" A sudden timbre echoed in your ears, and it was almost as if the rain had actually stopped.

"Does it look like I'm okay, Toji?" You said through trembling lips, feeling the waves of embarrassment washing over you as you stared back up at the tall male holding an umbrella over your head. “W-When did you get here?”

"Well, no. C'mere lemme help you up." Effortlessly, Toji hoisted you up back on your feet with a singular arm, and then his eyes traveled over to your hands. “I was driving by and saw you on the ground.”

"Are you having a house party with those drinks?" He questioned you, gesturing towards the dampened plastic bag filled with the bottles of alcohol.

"They're all for me." You replied in a joking tone, albeit it was the unadulterated truth. The raven-haired male caught on immediately, raising an eyebrow at your response.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked you, his voice resonant as he looked at you with a curious gaze before his eyes widened in surprise. "O-Oh – are you crying?"

"No," you replied to the older man, though there was a waterfall of tears dripping down your cheeks. You spoke through persistent sniffles and shaky breaths, and at this point you weren't even sure if you were coherent for the older cousin to hear but you could honestly care less. "I c-caught Naoya... sniff... c-cheating on me… T-That little shit!"

"That dumbass..." Toji mumbled under his breath. "Let's bring you back home first. You’re drenched all over.”

He hurried you over to his car, and the musky scent of his car air freshener immediately struck your nostrils the moment you stepped into the passenger seat. There was something oddly comforting about it, though. Suddenly, he handed you a spare sweater sitting in the backseat, “Yer shirt’s drenched. Wear this to keep yourself warm.”

You had been so caught up in your emotions that you failed to realize the vibrant colour of your bra peeking through the drenched fabric. Bashful, you grabbed his sweater and thanked him profusely. He waved it off, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Slumping against the seat, you tried to ignore the musky scent of his cologne present in the thick fabric of his black sweater and you wanted to smack yourself profusely for letting your mind wander off too far, however you couldn't help but notice how large he actually is.

It wasn't often that you'd see Naoya's older cousin, as he would show up to family functions once in a blue moon. Though, at first you had found him intimidating as hell, you later found out you weren't all that wrong – making small talk with the older male here and there, much to your ex's dismay.

"Actually, Toji... I don't want to go home, yet." You admitted shortly after he handed you his sweater. "I don't want to come home and be paraded with reminders of that man."

Toji paused briefly before speaking, "So, you're saying that you want to stay over at my place tonight, doll?"

You could feel the blood rush to your face; a warm incarnadine imbued on the apples of your cheeks. You were surprised you hadn't paid much mind to it earlier, but there was something surprising arousing about his resonant voice; something about it tickled your brain the right way. You tried to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander too far, after all, you had just gotten out of a relationship with his cousin.

"I didn't mean it in that way! J-Just drop me off home, then!"

"Whatever you wish, doll." Toji grinned teasingly before starting the engine, driving up the neighborhood through the heavy rain. “Anyway, I don’t mean to be noisy but how did ya catch that idiot red-handed?”

“He left his phone unlocked on the coffee table while he was showering,” you sighed heavily, staring outside the window with a somber gaze. “I later found out after reading his messages with his coworker that they’ve been seeing each other for two years. Two years and a half, actually..”

“Good fuckin’ riddance on yer part. I’m surprised that this man could last three years in a relationship, of course he had to fuck up and pull that shit on ya.”

You stared outside the window, feeling the heartache steadily returning the closer the car got to your apartment. Eventually, the car came to a stop, parked across your humble abode.

"Thank you for the ride, Toji. And thanks for the sweater. I'll make sure to return it to you once I get it washed." You said softly, looking at the older man with gratitude. He nodded his head in response, "Anytime, doll. Hope ya feel better soon."

Rolling his windows back up and preparing to leave, you stopped him before thinking. He paused and looked back at you, rolling his windows back down; meeting your flustered gaze. "Forgot anything in the car?"

"Um," you said awkwardly, feeling the heat returning to your face. "Do you wanna drink with me at my place?"

The older man blinked for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, "I didn't know ya were this type of person after a breakup, doll."

"Tojiiii," you whined, embarrassed. "I just don't want to drink alone and drown in my own sorrows. I need someone to talk shit about your cousin with too, you perv."

"Hey, that's yer fault for wording it weirdly." Toji shrugged before turning off the engine and leaving his car. "Though, I can't say no since you asked me so nicely."

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," you said, your voice soft as you walked out of the washroom door, dampened towel in hand as you made your way to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to the older Zen’in, though you made sure you maintained a distance. “It didn't take too long, did I?”

You glanced over at the male endowed with borderline Herculean features, and his eyes quickly met yours. Undoubtedly, you felt shy. You invited him over on a whim, last minute decision.

"Mhm, ya were really quick." Toji replied, smirking at your flustered expression. "There's also no need to be so shy with me, doll. Just think of this as one of our many small talks, but with drinks this time."

You nodded your head shyly before you dug your hands into the plastic bag, bringing out two bottles of beer. Thank goodness they stayed intact after your ignominious fall.

"Give me the bottles," said Toji, "I'll open 'em up for ya."

He made a come hither motion with his large hand, signaling you to give him the beer. Without thinking, your eyes stayed glued on his rough, calloused hands – you shook your head, embarrassed. Complying to his words, you handed him the bottles and he brought each bottle out, one by one, and opened them with ease; each movement was effortless, and a mere reminder of his strength.

He handed you the beer, and you thanked him with a soft grin.

"Cheers," you both said before drinking from the glass bottle, and a sharp sigh immediately left your lips. You looked over to Toji, who drank that beer as if it was water.  You found yourself getting dazed, almost amazed at how effortless this man made drinking alcohol appear. 

"About that idiot, Naoya," Toji began, swirling his bottle slightly, "Am surprised that guy managed to stay in a relationship with ya for so long. That man's never been the type to settle down."

You sighed heavily before letting out a bitter chuckle, "I'm surprised too, and I had to find out the hard way. Plus, he's actually out right now fucking his mistress as we speak. Funny, right?"

You let out a small grumble, taking a large gulp of the beer; ignoring the stinging sensation hitting your throat when you swallowed. Toji leaned back against the sofa, his dark blue eyes staring down at you as he continued drinking the alcoholic beverage.

"How are ya holding up right now, doll? I know damn well that breakups are never easy, especially with that guy."

You shuffled in your seat, you could already feel yourself getting worked up at the mention of your ex.

"To be honest," you spoke slowly, "I'm not as torn as I thought I would. I think I already cried all of those sorrows away, but I'm still heartbroken and bitter. Really bitter."

"Bitter? Do tell me more."

You took another large gulp, letting out another sharp sigh. By then, you were already drinking your second glass – feeling the heat steadily increase in your face. You slammed down the bottle onto the coffee table, an irritated expression plastered across your face.

"This man… hic… had the nerve to say that it's my fault because I didn't satisfy him enough in bed! Says him! He only ever chases after his own orgasm whenever we did it and barely… hic… lets me finish? What the hell!"

Tears were now rolling down your face, surprising the older man. One second you were showing anger and fury, and the next second you were slumped down on the couch as you drowned in your sorrows and heartbreak.

"I-I'm... I was never close to being his priority. I also… hic… found out that he's been spoiling and treating his mistress far more better than I was ever treated in the past two years…hic! How can I be so stupidddd."

"Hey now," you could feel a warm hand patting your back with an unforeseen gentleness, "it's better now that you found out rather than later. You deserve so much better, so don't beat yourself up too much."

The older man's words brought you comfort that you didn't know you needed. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, downing on your second bottle of beer. You didn't realize through your drunken haze that he stiffened up at the sudden contact, but he didn't budge. You reached out for a third bottle, but he stopped you.

"Take it easy there, doll." Toji said. "Yer gonna have a hell of a hangover if you keep that up."

"Don't worry, I am," you said in a sing-song tone, though you still grabbed a hold of the beer bottle. "I'll make sure to drink slowly."

He massaged his forehead before chuckling, "Well you’re quite stubborn.”

You giggled softly through stifled breaths, “I-I can be sometimes… hic. Wanna help open this for me?”

He complied to your request, and opened the beer bottle once more with ease.

"I know it corny an' weird coming from an older guy like me, but believe me when I say that the end of a relationship does not equate to yer worth or that the world is going the end. So, don't beat yerself too hard, better things are about to come." He then paused before sighing. "Ugh fuck me, this is how ya know the alcohol's hitting."

"You don't need to pretend that it's the alcohol, Toji." You said, laughing. "You look more than sober. It even looks like you handle beer like how you drink a bottle of water."

"Anyway," you continued, glancing up at the man bashfully while you drank from the bottle; your throat had already grown accustomed to the stinging sensation of the alcohol, and you could feel your cheeks growing warmer the longer you allowed your mouth to ramble. "I didn't know you were capable of saying such sweet things, Mr. Toji."

He paused for a moment before sighing. 

"It's nothing," replied the man as he swigged the bottle. He wiped his mouth with his arm, exhaling sharply.

"You must've… hic!… had many experiences… hic!… with romances, Toji." You said, taking a sip from the bottle despite the persistent hiccups that escaped your lips.

"What makes you say that?" Toji responded, raising an eyebrow.

"You look like the type to," you replied and Toji laughed. “I realized just now… hic!�� that you’re… hic!… good company to have around.”

"Ya think so highly of me, doll."

You looked confused now, tilting your head to the side – looking at the sinewy man deep in thought (as far your alcohol would allow). 

"Are you married? Seeing anyone, at all?"

"Divorced seven years ago, and nope."

"Ah..."

You both drank in unison, however your eyes stayed glued onto the older Zen’in. You felt yourself growing more sweaty despite having just gone out from the shower, your cheeks warm and your brain slowly yet surely getting even more fuzzy. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed, but the number of empty bottles resting atop the coffee table was enough for you to know that it had definitely been a few hours. Your eyes thoughtlessly wandered to his lips wrapped around the bottle; watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took, a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck. 

Without even realizing, rather than your beer, you swallowed your saliva. 

“I’m gonna get us some water!” You suddenly stood up from the couch, the sounds of your feet pattering against the hardwood planks echoing throughout the flat and Toji’s eyes followed suit. 

“Do you need help with anything?” You can hear his voice from behind you, though he stayed seated, comfortably, on the couch. You shook your head in response, playfully pointing a finger at him. “Don’t you move an inch, big guy. Your host will take care of everything… hic…!”

Turning around, you resumed to the kitchen with slight staggered movements. Reaching your hand out, you opened the fridge, letting the cool air hit your face that was engulfed with warmth. You sighed softly, feeling even more relaxed as you scanned the refrigerator. Grabbing the water pitcher, you set it aside on the counter and your gaze shifted to the tall cabinet. Unbeknownst to you, Toji’s eyes were glued to you – though, it was mostly to ensure your safety, but he couldn’t help but notice how your shirt rode up when you attempted to reach the cups; your face flushed and your eyes narrowed in concentration. Silently, he took another sip of his beer. He wanted to slap himself. 

“Ya look like you’re struggling, doll.” Toji called out, and you replied with a firm no. You shook your head, though you were really struggling – especially with your lack of balance. With one hand cupping the side of your head, your other arm reaching out to the glass cups resting atop the shelves while you were on your tippy toes, you attempted to reach even further but your feet lost its strength. Just as you were about to brace yourself for impact, a large and warm hand caught you; his arm snaked around your waist and your chest pressed against his well-built chest, and your lips inches away from his. 

You stared up at the man, surprised before blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks; further intensifying the warmth on your skin. 

“Shouldn’t have let ya do all the work when yer balance is already shit,” Toji commented, and you could only watch, flustered, as he extended his other arm to the two cups with effortless movements. You were unsure if it was the alcohol or the flustered emotions rushing through your veins, however you could feel your heart battering against your chest crazily and your cheeks growing warmer. You were also unsure if he had noticed his hand, large and calloused, was underneath the soft fabric of your shirt; his warmth radiating onto your bare skin. As much as you hated to admit it, you weren’t against it one bit.

 “You alright there, doll?” The timbre in his voice brought you back to reality, and you felt your cheeks growing warmer. 

‘Fuck, get it together! You can’t be getting these thoughts freshly out of a breakup!’ You attempted to reason with yourself, but when you glanced over to Toji’s concerned gaze, you honestly believed you were going to melt. This wasn’t your first time talking to the older Zen’in, having spoken to him many times in family functions or simply after crossing paths, though they were no longer than small talk. This felt somewhat different, however it wasn’t in the way you disliked. 

“I-I’m… hic… okay now,” you said shyly, averting your gaze from his. Toji pulled his hand away from your waist, extending his hand towards the water pitcher and filling up the two glasses. He handed you the glass, and you accepted the gesture. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he stared down at you as he drank from the cool water. You fidgeted underneath his gaze, your cheeks growing even more warmer. 

“Are ya feelin’ better now?” Toji questioned you, raising an eyebrow. You nodded your head slowly as you sipped from your glass, “I feel a lot better now, actually.”

“You’re lookin’ like you’re about to burn up.” He then commented before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead in an unforeseen gentleness. “Just as I thought.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it. “Let’s call it quits for tonight, doll. You should get some rest now..” 

Unexpectedly, he ruffled your hair gently; his thick fingers brushing through your locks as you could only stare up at the man dumbfoundedly. You were just beginning to enjoy his company even more. As embarrassing as it would be to admit (when you’re sober), but it wouldn’t hurt to talk for even longer – even if it wasn’t about Naoya, anything would suffice. 

 “What about you?” You asked him, tilting your head. “Why can’t you spend the night here… hic!… and sober up?”

“No can do, doll.” Toji said, his timbre rubbing your brain in the most satisfying way possible. “Anything can happen since there’s alcohol in our system.”

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, looking up at the older man who looked like he had just drank water rather than downing two bottles of beer. Absent-mindedly, you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and he appeared to be taken aback. 

 “B-But… you still shouldn’t drive around… hic!... drunk.” You persisted, but Toji shook his head with a light chuckle. 

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing but a little splash of cold water can fix.” He said before turning over to you, tapping on your forehead. “But you. You’re a bit too far gone.”

Your fingers immediately went to your forehead, covering the one area that the Toji had touched, your cheeks flushed a bright incarnadine. “Still,” you grumbled softly, glaring at the male, “you gotta wash your… hic!... face with cold water before you leave, no matter how sober you may appear.”

“Alright, alright.” Toji cackled, shrugging his shoulders. “You can even watch me, if it makes you feel any better.”

In came the following morning, and you were met with the sight of a familiar blond male with his suitcases in tow. You had just woken up from the couch to see your ex-boyfriend at least fulfilling his one promise, which was to leave your apartment with all his things. You rubbed your eyes, disgruntled at the persistent ache in your head. You didn’t have a moment to hark back to the previous night when all you could feel is your ex-boyfriend’s sharp gaze cutting through you.

 Naoya’s sharp eyes scanned your surroundings, “Were you drinking last night?” 

“Why are you asking me questions you know the answer to,” you grumbled out, stuffing your head into the comfort of your pillow. Naoya scoffed at your response, crossing his arms. “Well, you couldn’t have finished all those bottles yourself. Who were you drinking with? And whose sweater was in your room? Looks like it belongs to a man.”

“All of that is none of your business,” you snapped, your voice still muffled by your pillow. “Are you going to leave now, or what?”

“Tsk,” the blond male clicked his tongue at your sharp response, “are you now sleeping with another man out of spite? You’re no better than I am.”

This fucking man ––

Now you felt awake, and you shot up from the pillow — sending your ex a glare that would definitely kill if it could. “I’ll give you another slap on the cheek, ten times harder than yesterday since you’re begging so nicely for it.”

Naoya’s gaze narrowed, his lips forming into a sneer. However, he didn’t say anything. He knew damn well that he wouldn’t want to experience that slap again, or a harder one. 

“And,” you continued, feeling yourself getting more heated the more you spoke, “you absolutely have zero room to talk about spite or being a better person. Remind me where you went off to last night, hm? While I was drowning myself in beer, what were you doing? Oh, that’s right! You were busy fucking your coworker, and even spent the night with her!”

The audacity of this man never ceased to amaze you. Just hearing him open his mouth was enough to give you a reason as to why you shouldn’t mourn so much over the loss of this relationship, despite having committed so much of your time and energy into it. Frustrated and beyond annoyed, you massaged your aching forehead with your fingertips. 

“You clearly don’t feel sorry for anything that you did.” You spoke, your voice stern as a feeble attempt to mask your crumbling composure. “Even mustering an apology would suffice, yet you come in and have the audacity to accuse me of sleeping around?”

You paused for a moment, your gaze locked onto the Zen'in. Furrowing your brows, you sighed deeply and frowned. “What’s even worse is that you don’t look sorry.”

As much scorn you harbored for the male who cheated on you, there was undeniably a tinge of sorrow and ache that lingered within the depths of your chest upon making that crestfallen realization. 

Pointing at the door, you didn’t leave your couch but you glared at your ex-boyfriend. “If there’s nothing else you want to say, you can go ahead and leave.”

And just like that, he wordlessly complied — walking out of the place he once called his home after three years, a place where he once promised he’d make many sweet memories with you; all that he left behind now was a poignant silence and another headache, other than that bothersome hangover, that you now had to deal with. Staring blankly at the door where your ex had exited from, you heaved an exasperated sigh. 

In the end, Zen’in Naoya still couldn’t even muster a proper apology – not that you were going to forgive him, anyway. However, three years down the drain was still plenty to take in. But then again, breakups that end on bad terms were usually much easier to move on from, especially that cheater ––

Ping!

A brief noise coming from your cell phone brought you back to reality – cutting you off from your lamentable dwellings, and you snapped your gaze almost immediately to the source of the sound; your hand grasping onto the device, your eyes scanning the screen as you silently read the message. 

TOJI: Recovered from the hangover yet?

You absentmindedly smiled towards your phone; your thumbs already working on a response. 

YOU: barely ahaha YOU: what are you up to now?

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: Nothing much TOJI: Did Naoya come by and get his things already? YOU: yeah,, he actually woke me up to ask about the sweater and who i was drinking with before he left YOU: i didn’t mention you though, but he was being a total headache about it TOJI: Why not? It would’ve been funny if you did YOU: you wouldn’t want naoya to hop on your ass about it if i mentioned you

TOJI is typing…

TOJI: He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on me anyway. That guy’s afraid of me YOU: you’re hilarious TOJI: Anyway TOJI: Thoughts on getting yakiniku tonight?

You didn’t realize it sooner, but over the course of days –– weeks, you eventually found yourself growing accustomed to the older male’s company; whether that be in the form of texting, or simply going out for drinks or barbeque –– Zen’in Toji was, without a doubt, clouding your mind. At this point, the thought of the misery your ex had brought upon you had dissipated. However, you wouldn’t deny that there was a wall that was evidently separating yourself from the Zen’in, a boundary that he, himself, had implemented. Oftentimes, it brought you back to an older conversation that you had with Toji; him telling you that he hadn’t truly been seeing anyone since his divorce, which was seven years ago. Even sometimes, you had gotten struck with the random spurts of realization that he was a decade or so older than you; his little nickname for you, every so often, served as a reminder. However, there were moments where you felt like you wanted to cross that line, and whenever you looked at Toji; his lips slightly agape, swallowing his spit as he stared down at you with that gaze –– you were certain that he was thinking of the same thing. This unspoken, yet increasing tension could be cut clean with a knife.

“Here. Get some meat and vegetables.” said Toji. With his chopsticks, he placed the freshly grilled meat and vegetables onto your plate. “What’s on yer mind, doll? Noticed you’ve been dazin’ off for quite some time.”

You shook your head immediately before thanking the older man profusely. “My goodness. I didn’t even realize they were moments away from burning. Thank you!”

Promptly, you threw the borderline broiling piece of meat into your mouth, chewing with tears slowly forming inside your eyes. “Wow, it’s s-so good. I love it.”

“Somethin’s on your mind after all,” Toji remarked, tilting his head off to the side while his midnight blue eyes gazed into yours. You gulped, swallowing the meat silently as you grabbed the glass of water and chugged it. 

“I promise you, it’s nothing really important. It’s just work.” You responded, smiling cheekily as you reached for the grilled broccoli with your chopsticks. You didn’t think you’d have it within yourself to tell him that he was all that you were thinking about – you’d simply drown in embarrassment before you could even utter a word! While you were chewing, you swiftly reached for the meat on the grill and placed it onto Toji’s plate.

 “It’s bigger meat,” you mentioned, “therefore, it’s all yours.”

“Oh? Look at ya bein’ all generous, doll.” he immediately teased you, raising his brows as his lips curled into an amused grin. “Ya weren’t like this the first time we went out for yakiniku.”

“Since when were you so observant?” You grumbled out, fighting the urge to roll your eyes jokingly. 

“I’ve always been observant,” Toji said while he chewed on the meat, swallowing with a satisfied hum. “But yer facial expressions make it so much easier for me. You’re not that great at trying to hide yer thoughts, either.”

You paused, staring at the man with a flabbergasted expression plastered all across your face. “Ya just proved my point,” laughed Toji. 

You closed your lips and pouted, taking another bite of the grilled meat – basking in the smoky flavor as you attempted to fight off the skittish emotions that were about to resurface. Though, you were unable to control the blood that rushed to the apples of your cheeks; heating up your face. “Clearly, what I did just now was on purpose.”

“Besides, what do you think goes on in my mind?” You questioned him, but as soon as those words slipped past your lips – you immediately wished you hadn’t. He sent you a teasing smirk, his eyes staring straight into yours as he uttered those words:

“I don’ think it’s the right time and place for me to say it here, doll. Ya might get a lil’ embarrassed if I lay them out for ya right now.”

Instantly, you could feel your face growing even warmer and you averted your gaze from his. “You’re bein’ mean right now, Toji.”

Then returned the insufferable tension. You fought the urge to squeeze your legs together, worried that the older man might catch on and you reached for another piece of meat and vegetable, chewing onto those two in tandem. Toji stared at you, amused; his head leaning against his hand as he played with the other pieces of food on the grill with the other.

“You’re awfully easy to get a reaction out of,” Toji further commented, chuckling. “It’s cute.”

“At this point, you’re just doing this on purpose!” You complained, blushing heavily at his teasing and he merely shrugged as a response. 

Time passed by quickly, and you were spent; leaning against your chair with your hand resting atop your aching belly –– staring weakly at the older Zen’in who appeared to be in no way affected as he downed the remaining food on the grill. When he met your gaze, he bursted out laughing; cackling, even, at your state.

 “C’mon doll, I think you can handle a lil’ more meat inside ya.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, or if you’re making an innuendo.” You murmured, your voice course. “But I’m not taking another bite. I’m sooo full.”

“Ya pervert, I am bein’ serious.” Toji retorted, taking the last bite of meat before he gulped down his glass of water. 

While he briefly left the table to pay for the bill, you stayed seated on the chair, staring blankly at the clutter left behind on the wooden table.

 The more you thought about it –– about him, you were left with a feeling of anticipation that you knew wouldn’t be fulfilled. You bit your lips softly, trying to fight back that massive frown that was threatening to appear; you were certain that Zen’in Toji, your ex’s older cousin and nearly more than decade older than you were, saw you no more than just an eating or drinking buddy, or a young woman who was left heartbroken by his cousin. 

“Now, what’s with that long sigh?” A familiar timbre brought you back to reality, your eyes snapping over to his. 

“It’s ‘cause of my stomach,” you replied, laughing it off before you stood up from your chair. You glanced outside and down at your watch, “How long were we out for?”

“Hours,” Toji simply responded and you rolled your eyes. 

You both stepped out of the store, ready to leave until you felt the sensation of small beads of water falling onto your face –– mere seconds later, it began to pour heavy rain. Groaning in pure unadulterated dismay, you both rushed to his car which was across the street; using your arms as means to shield you from the pouring water. 

“I didn’t expect it to rain today, especially like this.” You observed, brushing your fingers through your dampened locks. Toji sighed in response, “To be honest, doll, I dun’ think I could drive you straight home in this weather. I jus’ checked my phone and it said that there’s a bad thunderstorm that’ll last all night  and there’s also a chance of a small flood happening.”

“Ah, that’s alright.” You said. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“There’s an inn nearby and we can spend the night there, if that’s fine with ya.” Replied the Zen’in.

Your face flushed at his suggestion, and Toji immediately took note of it. 

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll sleep on the floor or couch – if there’s one.” Toji reassured you, and you could only nod your head –– completely and utterly dumbfounded with the series of lewd thoughts that began to cloud your mind. You and him. Together. Alone. You wanted to smack yourself. Genuinely.

You shuffled in your seat, feeling the heat in your face and between your legs worsen. You tried to distract yourself, silently immersing yourself with the music that was playing on the radio. Then the car came to a halt, and you stared outside the window. It was an average looking inn, nothing too special. Upon finding parking, you both hurried over to the entrance; rushing over to the receptionist.

“Room 261 is on the second floor, to your left. Please enjoy the rest of the night, you two.” 

The moment you found the designated room number and opened the door, you both stood there flabbergasted. The room was decorated in hearts and flowers — even the bed was large and heart-shaped, and on the nightstand, there rested a fuzzy pair of handcuffs, condoms, and bottles of lube. Instinctively, you touched your cheeks with the backside of your hand. Yep, your face is definitely hot. 

Toji covered his face with the palm of his hand, heaving an exasperated sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should’ve known it was a love hotel.”

“Don’t worry,” you laughed it off, “they were being really discreet about it, so I’m surprised. When you look at the exterior, anyone who never went there would’ve also thought it’s a normal inn — totally not a love hotel.”

The moment you both locked gazes, you bursted out laughing.

“I-I’m sorry,” you giggled, “the fact that we actually got into a love hotel is crazy. Damn.”

“Just our luck,” Toji chuckled. “Oh, fortunately there’s a couch over there. The bed’s all yours, doll.”

Plopping down on the bed, you released a relieved sigh. “It’s so comfortable here, Toji. You should try it out, too.”

He slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, and a look of surprise was plastered across his face. “You’re right.”

The bed was large enough to fit the both of you, you pondered to yourself. Your eyes wandered to Toji’s large and sinewy frame, his back facing you as he fumbled with his car keys — his large, calloused fingers tracing along the metal ridges. Undeniably, his fingers were large — thick and long, even. For a brief moment, it almost made you wonder, in your uncouth curiosity, what it would be like to have his hands wander farther…

No. Stop it right there.

‘You horny, horny woman,’ you scolded yourself, mentally smacking your head as you attempted to hide the blush that was moments away from resurfacing. Briefly, you averted your gaze from the older Zen’in, trying to look anywhere but him — it was hard though, especially when this man was quite the eye candy. There was simply no way he didn’t not go out with other women. 

The insufferable tension lingering in the air was another thing you couldn’t ignore, it had been like this for weeks already; naughty thoughts and reveries involving the male came to you nearly every night and as much you tried to ignore it, you still noticed the way he licked the icing off his lips after taking a bite from a dessert, the veins adorning his large hand as he gripped onto the steering wheel, or how his eyes would flicker between meeting your gaze or your lips. 

This was driving you insane. Terribly insane. 

You could feel the weight of the bed lighten, and you turn your head to see Toji standing up from the edge of the bed, making large strides to the couch. Without ever turning his head to face you, he began to speak; his voice had gotten an octave lower, it caught you off guard.

“There ya go again, doll. Are ya even aware of the expressions you’re makin’?” 

“Huh?” You stared at him, dumbfoundedly. “What expressions?”

“Do I really have to say it?” Toji questioned, turning his head slightly to the side and tilted. Your eyes wandered to his lips, glued onto the small scar as he spoke. “I’ll sound a lil’ bawdy, but…” 

He pointed a finger towards you. 

“You’re lookin’ at me like you’re beggin’ to be fucked,” the man stated, his navy blue eyes meeting your flustered ones.

You tensed at his words, feeling a surge of heat overcoming you – his words paired with the timbre in his voice causing a stir within the depths of your abdomen. The atmosphere had changed, the tension was so unbearably thick; you could sense that his composure was also beginning to fall apart.

 “W-What?” You could barely manage to squeak out the words, but the older Zen’in’s gaze didn’t falter. You were, undeniably, aroused – for god knows how long. 

“I’m a pretty observant person,” Toji said, his deep and baritone voice ringing in your ears. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way ya looked at me earlier, and even the weeks before. Even now, you’re aroused. Am I wrong, doll?”

Your breathing had gotten heavier, hitching even. Was Toji that good at reading you, or were you being plain obvious? You didn’t know, nor did you care too much. Either way, whatever he said – he was correct. You were simply too embarrassed to admit it; you bit onto your lip, unable to come up with a response. 

“You gotta speak with yer words, doll.” 

You swallowed your spit, gulping softly. “I… You…”

The way you wanted to dig yourself a hole and shrivel yourself up into a ball. God, this was so embarrassing. 

“I… You…?” The man repeated after you, amusement plastered across his face. You opened your mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. 

“Ugh,” you groaned out, feeling the steams of pure and unadulterated embarrassment leaving your ears. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You’re all I’ve been thinking about for weeks.”

You slapped your hands on your face, covering the roseate warmth that seemed to merely worsen as those words left your lips. Upon setting your pride aside, you had finally admitted the embarrassing truth. But, what would come after that? Would he be weirded out and distance himself from you? You averted your gaze from his, you didn’t have it within you to meet his eyes. As aroused as you were, you were also incredibly embarrassed – and even that was an understatement.

You felt his finger tracing your chin, lifting your face to meet his. You didn’t realize he had already made his way back to you, his Herculean build leaning close to yours yet there was, undeniably, an invisible wall that separated the both of you. 

“I tried to think nothin’ of it at first, but…” Toji began, stalling his words a little. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you told me earlier,” Toji said, his voice low in a murmur; his gaze yet again flickering between your eyes and your lips. You gulped softly, your breath hitching in anticipation. “About Naoya not pleasin’ ya enough in bed. It seems to me you’re feelin’ all pent up now.”

He shot you a teasing grin, “Am I right about that too, doll?”

Your eyes widened, looking at the man in front of you in shock; your mouth agape and your cheeks flushed. “You…”  You attempted to come up with a retort, but all the words that threatened to leave your lips had come to a halt when he raised a brow towards you, his midnight blue gaze looking down at yours.

“Judging by yer reaction, I’m guessin’ I’m right.” 

“Yeah?” You riposted, biting your cheek. “So what about it? If you’re just saying this to make fun of me, then you can just quit… it.”

Your eyes trailed down, your words slowing down to a halt as you caught sight of the large tent growing at the center of his trousers. It’s big.

“I wouldn’t be sayin’ all this if I only intended to tease ya,” Toji replied, his voice slightly hoarse as he briefly followed your gaze. “But I’m glad it’s confirmed that we see eye to eye.”

“Eye to eye? Does that mean…” Your eyes stayed glued onto his bulge, and Toji turned his head away; a bright roseate blush tinting the tips of his ears. 

“Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “It’s exactly what ya think it is, Y/N. It’s ya fault for being so fuckin’ cute.”

You stared back to his face, a look of wanton adorning across your face as you eyed his lips. Licking your lips, you gathered all the remaining courage you had –– cupping the older man’s face in your hands and bringing him into a soft and brief kiss, your lips locking for a few seconds before pulling away.

“I-I didn’t think you’d be seeing me in this type of light, either––”  your words were abruptly put to a halt when he locked lips with yours once more, this time with plenty more fervor; his large hand cupping the back of your head to pull you closer, if it was even possible. Tongues, forthwith, were intertwined as you followed the male’s lead; his well-rehearsed movements harbored from the years of experience you forgot he had. His lips were on yours, yet you felt as if your whole entire body was burning up.                                                                                                                                                                                                               

Your fingers traveled to his clothed chest, gripping onto the fabric tightly as you struggled to keep up with his movements. Without ever pulling away, he leaned closer; his weight slowly pushing your body down onto the mattress, a soft sigh leaving your lips the moment your back made contact with the comforts of the mattress. 

The wet sounds of your lips interlocking echoed throughout the room, along with the soft noises of your whimpers and moans escaping your lips as Toji’s hands wandered; leaving every curve of your body untouched, and the tip of his fingers snaking underneath the hem of your jeans. You wrapped your arms around the man’s neck, your fingers dancing through his raven locks. You barely remembered the last time you had a kiss this passionate.

Eventually, you both pulled away; revealing a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips together and anything else that escaped your lips were harbored breaths. You kissed him. And it felt so good. Pressing your fingers to your lips, your eyes traveled over to Toji’s –– it was evident that his self restraint was merely hanging on by a thin thread. You bit your lips at the thought.

“You’re makin’ it so hard for me to hold myself back,” hissed Toji, wincing slightly at the discomfort within his trousers. 

“You don’t need to,” you replied, your voice was quiet yet it was dripping with arousal. “I don’t want you to.”

Toji raised a brow at your words, but he couldn’t deny – those exact words did cause some sort of damage. “Ya sure, doll? I don’ think I’ll be able to stop myself once I start.”

You sat back up from the bed, your hand caressing his cheek; your finger tracing the small scar ingrained in the corner of his swollen lips. 

“Well, I don’t want you to stop either.” You murmured, your voice soft and you shifted your gaze to the tightened area of his trousers. “I can help with that, too.”

Taciturnly, you brought your palm to his lap, giving his enlarged bulge a soft squeeze; immediately eliciting a soft groan from Toji as a response to your sudden and bold movements. 

“Y/N,” he muttered your name, though it sounded more of a warning than anything. You squeezed it once more, shooting the male a playful smile; your fingers playing around with the small metallic zipper before you slowly zipped it down. 

“Can I?” You questioned him. It was clear you were ogling his bulge beneath, excited to explore for more; your eyes were wide in lewd curiosity, barely able to control the arousal and desperation within your movements. Toji found all of that, somewhat, endearing. 

“Do whatever ya want, doll.” He huffed out. “But ya also got to give me somethin’ nice to look at and play with.”

His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before they snaked underneath the fabric; the sensations of his rough and calloused fingers touching your bare skin – his blunt nails grazing your waist. You raised your arms up, and with effortless movements, he slipped the fabric off you. For a brief moment, you considered hiding yourself – a wave of shyness suddenly overtaking you, but all that stopped when you felt his fingers, once again, grazing your bare skin; slowly tracing over the cups of your bra. 

Your breath hitched, and a surge of heat rushed to your face. This was it. You were going to have sex with Zen’in Toji. However, undeniably, you felt like a virgin around the older male. His fingers lingered across your back, unclasping the undergarment with ease; he watched, with amused eyes, as it fell from your breasts –– revealing your soft mounds. Unawarely, your arms rushed to cover your breasts – but his strong hands held them back.

“Don’t ever think about covering ya self, doll.” Toji said, his large hands grasping tightly around your wrists. “I love the view I’m seein’ right now, so don’t be shy to show me everything.”

You tried to suppress any noise that threatened to leave your lips, biting onto the skin; your body writhing underneath the man’s soft, yet teasing strokes on your breasts, most particularly your nipples. You leaned closer into his touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips as his fingers teased the erect buds — twirling, pinching and pulling; your mind was going blank to his teasing ministrations. 

“You have such pretty breasts,” Toji commented, pinching your nipples with his index and pointer fingers before he began to twirl the bud. You bit onto your lip even harder this time; your legs squeezed tightly together as you attempted to satiate your arousal in silence. 

“T-Toji,” you stammered out, “I’m s’pposed to be the one pleasing you first.”

“I can wait,” he grinned, licking a small stripe of saliva across your breast. “I needa show these girls some love first.”

You couldn’t even utter a response, all that came out were stifled moans and whimpers — your hand clasped against your mouth while your other was nestled in his raven locks. Zen’in Toji was, indeed, showing them love. Lots of love. The insufferable ache building up between your legs seemed to merely worsen, not even squeezing them together was enough to satiate it. You were far too aroused — melting immediately at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensations.

Toji’s eyes never left your face; analyzing every micro reaction your face made, every single move he made felt as though it was rehearsed — a well one, in fact; effortlessly finding the spots that elicited the most delicious reactions out of you with both his tongue and hands. He cupped your breast and gave the mound a squeeze, and he eventually pulled his mouth away from your nipple; leaving behind a thin string of saliva that connected his lips and your skin. If you were standing, your knees would’ve already buckled on the spot. 

Breathing heavily, you softly pushed the older male away from your body. “It’s your turn.”

You slowly lowered yourself, your hands tracing down his shoulders, his chest and then to his abdomen; your nimble fingers unbuttoning, thus unzipping his trousers. You didn’t realize you were holding in your breath, while trying your darndest to control your heart that was hammering rapidly against your chest. 

“Breathe, doll.” Toji’s baritone voice wasn’t much help, but you breathed in — then you heaved a shaky sigh. Gulping, you took in the sight of the sheer size of his shaft hiding beneath the thin fabric. 

By the time your hands reached his boxers, your fingers snaking underneath the hem of his underwear; you pulled the fabric down, slipping it down his muscular thighs — you were unsure if you were being obvious, but you attempted to stop your mouth from watering. 

“It’s big,” you thought aloud, slapping your mouth immediately after. Toji chuckled deeply.

“For a woman who’s mostly shy, ya certainly have no filter.” Toji teased, lightly slapping his hardened cock against your cheek. “How cute. Do ya think you’ll be able to take it in ya mouth, doll?”

You flushed a bright incarnadine at his words, “Were you always this crude?”

Wrapping your hand around his girthy shaft, you gulped softly as you slowly stroked his member; up and down, up and down –– your eyes were locked onto his face, taking in every micro-expressions that the older Zen’in was making, though it was evident that he was trying to suppress them; he was biting his lips, though he still had that sexy grin plastered across his face. For the longest time, you weren’t aware that Zen’in Toji had this obnoxiously lewd side of him, and you also didn’t know that you could be so fucking aroused because of it. 

‘Will he fit inside me?’ You asked yourself, nearing your lips closer to his cock. You licked a long stripe across his cock, circling the soft muscle around his tip before sucking on it. Toji immediately reached his strong hand to your locks, giving them a soft tug. 

“Fuck,” he hissed softly, “I almost forgot how good this feels. You’re so fuckin’ good with your mouth, doll.”

Breathing through your nose, you slowly took him inside your mouth; feeling the small beads of tears building up the lower you went down on him, your nose pressed against his pubes. It was difficult to breathe — he was just too fucking big! However, the loud groan of your name leaving his lips was more than enough as motivation to keep going; circling your hand around the area your mouth couldn’t reach, and you stroked his cock in languid movements. 

Each noise — grunts, hitched breaths, or groans — that escaped his lips, you could feel yourself growing even wetter; a puddle of arousal dampening your underwear. You continued to bop your head onto his cock, drool dripping down your cheeks as you attempted to take him deeper. You knew you shouldn’t have pushed yourself too much — you could barely remember the last time you’d done something this lewd, but you couldn’t help yourself. When there was Zen’in Toji in front of you, feeding your hungry mouth with his fat cock, there was simply no way you’d say no. 

The obscene noises of your mouth showing love towards his cock echoed throughout the room; your soft gagging, whimpers, and the slobberish noise your mouth made each time you bobbed your head lower made it nearly impossible for the older man to not buck his hips into your poor lips. The turbulent rainstorm showering outside had long drowned out — the sole sound of Toji’s little grunts and groans lingered in your head; hungry to please him even more.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” Toji grunted, his hands traveling to your breasts to give your nipples a tight pinch. You clenched your eyes shut, whimpering softly with his cock deep inside your throat; writhing underneath his touches, every graze of his fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You squeezed your legs together tightly, bucking your hips slightly as you continued to please him. “You’re pleasin’ me so well, doll.”

“Ah—mmph…!” You let out a surprised moan, snapping your eyes open to stare at the raven-haired male as he pulled and twirled the erect bud between his rough fingers. Your grip tightened around his hips, and upon pulling away from his shaft, you gave the tip a good suck — grinning at yourself when you felt Toji’s body twitch at your manipulation; his breath hitching at the shocks of pleasure rushing through his veins as his fingers’ squeezed onto your mound. A line of praises escaped his lips in the form of grunts and mutters, his hand cupping your cheek; his thumb softly stroking the tears away. 

“Do ya even realize how arousing ya look right now?” Toji’s deep baritone voice rang in your ears as he bucked his hips into your face. He threw his head back, a mix of a hoarse chuckle and grunt leaving his lips. “You’re doin’ so good, doll. Keep on goin’.” 

Continuing on with your ministrations, you used both your hands to stroke his dick while you pressed your lips against his tip; bobbing your head down his tip while your hands made twisting motions as you fondled with his girth. You glanced up towards Toji, awaiting some sort of praise –– and he wasted no time; the thrusts of his hips had begun to stagger and a loud groan of your name escaped his lips, coating the insides of your mouth with thick ribbons of white. Pulling away from his length, your eyes returned its focus to the older Zen’in; locking eyes with his as you swallowed his cum, feeling the warm liquid trickle down your throat. 

Heavy breaths echoed through the room, Toji’s soft pants mirroring yours; his eyes gazed into yours wantonly and his fingers cupping your chin briefly before he leaned back in for a third kiss. Locking lips and tongues intertwined, he lifted the shirt off his body with ease; revealing his chiseled build. Panting in between kisses, your fingers trailed down his neck – traveling down his chest, and back up to his raven locks. 

His hand trailed lower to your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping effortlessly as he pulled the denim past your ass; his thick fingers grazing against your cheeks, slowly snaking underneath the thin fabric of your panties — shivering, you rocked your hips into his hand when he slid a finger across your slick folds. His breath hitched a little, pulling his lips away from yours. 

“I didn’t even put a finger yet, but yer drenchin’ it already.” He commented, and you could only watch — in both embarrassment and unadulterated arousal — as he licked your juices off his fingertip. 

His hands returned to the denim fabric hanging on to your thighs, pulling them down along with the thin fabric of your underwear. Without uttering another word, he brought his hand between your thighs — spreading them open. Midnight blue eyes locked onto your bare cunt, his mouth nearly salivating at the sight of your arousal dripping down your hole. Glancing down, he was, once again, fully erect. 

Extending your arm to his shaft, Toji had stopped you — though, not with words, but with the abrupt movements of his arms hooking around your thighs; pulling your hips closer to his face. 

“W-Wait––A-Ah!” The moment you felt his tongue prodding at your folds, your eyes rolled back and a sharp moan escaped your lips; your fingers immediately finding solace in his messy, black hair. Toji didn’t seem to listen, however. His tongue slid up and down your folds before pressing his lips against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking harshly whilst flicking his tongue against it.

“Oh my––fuck! Toji!” You mewled out, arching your back and you could feel yourself convulse as he continued to suck and lick messily at your cunt. “T-There’s no way you didn’t sleep with anyone after your divorce,” you stuttered in between moans, “you –– mmph! Hah – y-you have to be lying! You eat pussy too good – AH!”

The older man grunted against your folds, his canines gently grazing your swollen clit. You writhed, your hips twitching in response. 

“What are you on, doll? I never lied to ya. Not one bit.” Toji replied, his voice muffled while he continued to stuff your face into your juicy cunt. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this typa pleasure.”

With his tongue, he licked another long strip across your drenched folds – humming in delight; the timbre of his voice sending vibrations onto your sensitive clit. You bit onto your lip, staring at Toji in lewd desperation while you bucked your hips against his face. The pleasure you felt was surreal; nothing you had ever felt before. It was addicting. You could feel the pressure pitting in your stomach growing warmer – heavier, more insufferable. 

“I-I’m close,” you warned, digging your nails into his scalp and he let out a soft grunt, eating your pussy with plenty more fervor. 

“Don’ come yet,” Toji said, “hold on for lil’ more longer for me, doll.”

You gulped, nodding at his request. Closing your eyes shut tightly, you tried your darndest to not succumb to the pleasure that was washing over you like strong, persistent waves. Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t come! Your toes curled, your eyes opening wide in surprise when you felt his two fingers, without any effort, slide into your drenched pussy –– his fingers stretching you out so deliciously; your walls clamped down onto his thick fingers that were knuckles deep inside your cunt. 

“Don’t come,” Toji warned you, and you could only stare at him with your heavy-lidded gaze –– too fucked out to care. You rocked your hips against his large hand, a string of incoherent moans and praises escaping your lips each time he fucked his fingers into you; his movements were fast and profound, eliciting such wet and lewd noises from your drenched hole. 

“Hm–– T-Toji,” you mewled loudly, throwing your head back against the plush of the pillows; your hands –– one gripping tightly against the wrinkled fabrics of the duvet cover, and the other tangled in the strands of Toji’s mane. “Ahn! P-Please let me come. You’re making me feel so… good..!”

Toes curling, another moan ripped out from your throat, your hips convulsing as he brought his mouth down to your swollen bud –– flicking circles and wrapping his lips around your clit repeatedly, all whilst fucking your pussy with his fingers as if he would with his dick (in your imaginations); curling his fingers, a loud whimper fell from your lips, your hips rocking desperately against his hand as his fingertips would kiss your sweet spot. 

“P-Pl-Please,” you could only murmur out, your whole entire body overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You could feel your eyes rolling back, your whole entire body writhing as he continued on with his ministrations – his fingers fucking you so well, hitting your g-spot with terrifying accuracy. His precise, yet profound movements were making your mind melt, along with the rest of your body. You could barely recount a memory where you came due to someone’s manipulation, often having to cater to your own needs to satiate the need for pleasure. However, now that you were experiencing it now; it was as if shocks of electricity were pulsing throughout your body –– your whole body growing sensitive, yet wanting more. 

The mixed sounds of his tongue sloppily making love with your clit paired with the wet noises of his fingers fucking into your hole, along with your mewls and the male’s sexy grunts filled the room. The persistent pressure growing in the pits of your lower abdomen was growing all the more unbearable, a new, foreign feeling began bubbling the more you tried to stop yourself from coming on the spot. It was getting even harder to hold it in now, you swore you could feel yourself burst.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji said, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy clenching tightly around his two fingers curled inside you, watching your juices trickle down your hole. “Look at me when you come, ‘kay? Look at the man that’s gonna make ya come hard.” 

You were completely under his submission, your eyes – though heavy-lidded – locked onto his midnight blue eyes; giving him a pleading look. He stared up at you, his lips locked around your clit and his fingers mercilessly doing their work on you. This sensation was something that you had never felt before – panicked, your fingers grasped onto his locks in a vain attempt to pull him away.

“T-Toji!” You whimpered his name, urgency evident in your voice. “I think I-I’m gonna pee!”

“Let it go,” Toji hummed, both his mouth and fingers continuing to pleasure you – edging you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Come for me, doll.”

And so you did, a loud cry of his name rolling off your tongue as your back arched; toes curled and your hips convulsing against his face —the warm juices spraying on his face and his hands, drenching his skin. A hitched groan escaped his lips, and he rubbed your clit with the palm of his hand; eliciting more of your juices to coat his hand while you twitched beneath his touches, strained moans leaving your lips as you rode out your orgasm. 

“Hah,” you heaved a breathy sigh, staring blankly at the ceiling for a brief moment before you finally noticed the puddle you left behind after your release, evidenced by the dampened sheets underneath you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of, doll.” Toji grinned, the gentle grazes of his fingertips lingering onto your soaked thighs. “If anything, it’s fuckin’ hot. Was it your first time squirtin’ like that?”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling shy once more. “Mhm. I can’t remember a time when I came this hard — let alone came from someone’s touch.”

“Damn,” Toji said, biting back a haughty grin. “Didn’t expect Naoya to be that much of a disappointment. But then again, it’s not too big of a surprise.”

“I’ll make ya feel much better,” he added, a smirk adorning his face while his arm extended to the nightstand — reaching for the packet of rubber, but you stopped him; your hands cupping his face as you made the man face you. 

“You don’t need to use it,” you said softly, your voice soft as you could feel the blood rushing back to your face. You glanced down at his cock, your mouth nearly salivating as you watched the girth jerked slightly in the air; a small amount of his pre-cum trickling out. You were right, this man was indeed an eye candy –– the most delicious one, in fact. “I’m on the pill.”

He stroked his fat cock languidly, his lustful eyes locking onto yours. “You sure about that doll?”

You nodded your head rapidly, it was almost foolish how excited you appeared — however, you were too horny to care. You needed this man inside you, desperately. Hooking your arms underneath your knees, you spread your legs apart for the older man to see — and he was instantly hooked; a hitched breath escaping his lips as he locked his gaze onto your drenched and needy hole — and your face too, looking so fucking lewd; the wanton look in your eyes begging him to fuck. A hoarse grunt escaped his lips, enamored at the heavenly sight. 

“Fuck me, Toji.” Pure arousal was laced in your voice as you uttered those words, your tone almost pleading.

Just how could he ever say no to that?

A sharp gasp left your lips when he pulled your legs closer to his hips, his large palms pushing your thighs back as he aligned his cock with your needy heat. You glanced down, lips quivering in anticipation as you watched him further prep you for his girth. He rubbed his thumb across your folds briefly, a low chuckle escaping his throat. “You’re still soakin’ wet, doll. I doubt we’d even need lube at this point.”

He inserted a finger briefly before pulling away, laughing at how your body immediately twitched at his touch. 

“You gotta relax for me, ‘kay?” Toji adjured, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaking entrance before slowly entering. Your arms immediately reached out, your hands finding solace around his chiseled back; your nails slightly digging into his skin, your body reeling at the stretch. He was too fucking big, and he only inserted the tip! The feeling of being filled up to the brim was incomparable to your fingers — you were going to melt. 

“Relax, doll.” repeated Toji, his voice strained. “You’re suckin’ me in.”

He nestled his face into your neck, peppering kisses and little suckles; thrusting his hips deeper and deeper. Small beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he reached halfway deep inside you, relishing in the way your walls clamped down onto his girth so tightly.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, closing his eyes shut as he reached the hilt – the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix. A shaky whimper left your lips, your arms wrapping tightly around the older Zen’in’s neck.

“You good?” He asked you, his face hovering yours. You nodded, pressing a small kiss on the corner of his lips as you softly rocked your hips against his — a small moan ripping from your throat when his cock grazed your sweet spot as he pulled away slightly, leaving just the tip inside before he slammed his hips back into yours; evoking a loud scream that ripped from your throat, your walls squeezing him like a vice as you trembled underneath his body. 

“Shit, doll.” Toji cursed under his breath, a coarse chuckle shortly leaving his lips. “Cumming, already?”

His calloused fingers traced over your hips, thus gripping onto your waist; his nails dug into your skin – his resolve crumbling by the second. 

“You can take another one, right doll? For me?” Toji questioned you, raising a brow towards you; watching you attempt to utter a response, but merely trembling as a result when he began moving his hips once more; relishing in the way your body reacted to his –– your hips trembling underneath his, your velvety walls clamping down on him – all whilst giving him a pleading look; your cheeks flushed and your eyes blown in lust. 

He chuckled, licking his lips. “Do ya even realize how lewd ya look right now?” 

He thrusted his hips roughly into yours, his fat cock sliding in and out of your soaked walls in ease. You stuffed your face into his shoulder, biting onto his collarbone to stifle the myriads of moans that threatened to leave your trembling lips. 

“Your pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight,” Toji said, purring as he rocked his hips into yours. “Like the way I’m stretchin’ your little hole out, doll?”

“O-Oh my god,” you whimpered into his neck, your nails digging into his skin; your voice jumpy from each rough thrust Toji made as he pistoned his cock in and out of your cunt; squeezing him back in each time. Each thrust he made, your body bounced along with it -– sliding onto the mattress; he made it his mission to fuck you silly. Jaws slacked and erotic groans escaping his lips, his nails digging into your hips as he continued on with his relentless pace; relishing in the way your body meld into his, your mouth agape as all the words that left your words would be incoherent. It was all so arousing, fucking you into an incoherent mess whilst you begged him for more.

You closed your eyes for a mere moment, reveling in the delightful pleasure — but with a rough thrust, the tip of his cock hitting that spot so deliciously, you shot your eyes wide open with a sharp gasp. Toji’s hand cupped your cheek before squeezing them, his dark eyes staring down at yours with a look of warning. 

“Hey, doll — open yer eyes, and don’t ya fuckin’ dare look away. Look at the man who’s fuckin’ you good, yeah?” He warned, nearing his face to yours –– your lips merely inches apart. The husky, strained timbre in his voice sent waves of arousal throughout your whole entire body. Nodding your head eagerly, you could hardly utter a response, any noise that managed to escape your throat were in the forms of moans and incoherent praises. 

Your mind was going blank, overwhelmed with pleasure and ecstasy. You were, quite literally, on cloud nine. The pleasure you felt was simply incomparable, and you could only feel yourself drown in it. Rolling your eyes back, another breathy moan escaped your lips; your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. The pit broiling in your stomach returned, and you could feel it building back up rapidly. 

“Mm—Fuck! I-I’m…” You tried to say in between moans, your body jumping up in tandem to the man’s powerful thrusts. “T-Toji… Ngh! I’m so close — you’re fucking me so good… Ah!”

Your voice alone was nearly enough to get the man to cum, but he relented. He bit his lips and clenched his jaw, reveling in the ecstatic sensations.

“Fuck, doll.” Toji mumbled out a curse, clenching his jaw. He dug his nails deeper into your waist, taking it all within him to not cum right then and there –– especially when your pussy was squeezing him so nicely. A strained moan escaped your lips, riding out your orgasm; your arms pulling the man close. Just as when you had thought you could have a moment to recover, his strong arms had lifted you up from the bed –– manhandling you, and you shortly found yourself on your knees; bent over with your ass high up in the air.

Smack!

Moaning, your body jumped at the stinging sensation of his palm making contact with your ass, feeling the heat radiate across the skin. Though, within seconds, your body melted to his touch; his strong hands caressing and squeezing your derrière, eliciting a soft hum that left your lips ––

“O-Oh!” You pressed your lips together, your eyes immediately rolling to the back of your head when he thrusted his cock back in – drenched in all your juices as he effortlessly slid back in; reaching the hilt, his tip brushing against your cervix as he rocked his hips back and forth; his cock grazing your sweet spot with each thrust he fucked into you. Stuffing your head in the comforts of the pillow, you were getting even more sensitive to his touches; every caress from his fingertips sent shocks of pleasure throughout your whole entire body.

Stifled moans escaped your lips, drool trickling down your lips as you gave in to pleasure; inching closer and closer to your release each time he rocked his hips against yours in an unforgiving pace. It was almost as if he was fucking you to impregnate you –– his brawny arms wrapped tightly around your waist; pulling you away from his cock before he pulled you back down, stretching your walls in the most delicious way. The many months spent feeling so sexually frustrated had melted away in this instant; the bed squeaked beneath your bodies, his thrusts relentless as he led you closer and closer to nirvana. 

“Ah, shit. You feel so fuckin’ good, doll” You could hear Toji’s grunts from behind you. “Hah, this pussy’s all for me, yeah? Hah—Mm…”

“Mmm… Fuck, yes! ‘S all for you, Toji — Ah!” You replied through stifled moans, your voice muffled by the pillow pressed against your face. “Y-You’re fucking me so deep…!”

“Atta girl,” Toji hummed and despite being unable to see him in that moment, you knew very well that he had a smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips while he continued to fuck you.

You lifted your head slightly from the pillow, turning your face slightly towards Toji — a look of concentration was plastered across his face; beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck, strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead, his teeth gritted against one another. Fuck, he was too sexy. Loud mewls left your mouth, thrusting your hips into his cock as you desperately chased after your release.

“K-Kiss me, Toji.” You said, your voice pleading. An abrupt moan escaped your lips shortly after, followed with a small whine when you felt his large hand wrap around your throat –– hoisting you up slightly while he pistoned his cock inside you, and he pressed his lips against yours; muffling the loud moans and whimpers that tumbled out of your mouth as he tangled his tongue with yours. He traveled his hand below your abdomen, his calloused fingertips rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud –– his lips not once ever leaving yours. You whined in his lips, feeling yourself losing strength in your arms. However, with his one arm hooked around your chest, he held your body up as he continued to fuck and rub your pussy. You were about to melt.

This all felt too fucking good. 

“Ah! Mmm—Ngh! I-I’m gonna come again––! I… Hah… Fuck… ‘m so fucking close — please, Toji. I wanna come so fucking bad––!” You whined in his mouth, bucking your hips desperately against his; your legs twitched each time his hips met yours, hitting that sweet spot each time he fucked his fat cock inside your velvety walls. “O-Oh my god, this feels s’fucking goooood.”

“Yeah?” Toji queried, groaning at your words, and you nodded your head eagerly. Suddenly, your face was once again pressed to the pillows; his large hand pinning your head in place while the other returned to your clit –– rubbing rough circles on the sensitive bud as he rutted his hips into yours with an unwavering fervor.

“Shit. Come for me then, doll.” He grinned, clenching his jaw as he slammed his hips into yours, driving your body forward on the mattress. 

The lewd noises of his hips rocking into yours, mixed with your wanton cries and his groans filled the room; only increasing in volume the closer you were towards reaching your orgasm. Given his staggered thrusts, you were certain he was also close.

“Mmm—Toji..” You mewled his name in between your needy whimpers and moans. “Hah! Ngh… Cum inside me…Ah! Want you… Mmm… to fill me up.” 

Toji’s arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace as he fucked you arduously; his lips latching onto your collarbone, peppering a line of kisses and love bites. 

A loud cry ripped from your lips, your whole entire body trembling as your orgasm washed over you; your eyes rolling to the back of  your head as you arched your back against his chest in pure bliss — your hips convulsing as your juices, once again, sprayed all over his cock and the mattress. The raven-haired man tightened his grip on your breasts, practically squeezing the mound as he succumbed to the rhapsodies of his release.

“Oh, fuuuck.” Toji let out a drawn out groan, slumping his body atop yours as the tip of his cock slammed against your cervix, coating your walls with thick layers of white, warm fluid. Breathing heavily and as small grunts escaped his lips, his brows furrowed at the way your walls clenched tightly around him in an attempt to milk him dry. Languidly, he pulled out of your heat, his dark eyes glued onto the masterpiece he had created –– watching his seed trickle down your hole. Grinning, he stuck his finger back in, pushing his cum back inside your wet folds. 

Heavy breaths filled the room, then returned the noises of the beads of rain smacking against the window. He glanced back up at you, his gaze locked onto your flushed face before he leaned in, pressing a chaste peck on your lips and slumping on the bed next to you.

“Are you feelin’ alright, doll?” Questioned Toji, caressing his fingers against your cheek. You nodded in response, cracking an enormous smile. 

“I feel better than ever,” you said, nuzzling your head into his neck; your arms snaking around his muscular arm. “I loved every moment of it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Toji smirked, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, placing it behind your ear. “Me, too.”

He shortly left the bed, making wide strides towards the washroom –– returning with a towel in his hand. Reaching out for the towel, you were about to thank him but he stopped you; his hands softly pushing you back down on the mattress.

 “Oomph…!” Was the sound you made as your back made contact with the soft mattress, and you snapped your gaze to Toji’s.

“Lemme take care of you, doll. You don’ gotta worry bout anythin’ else.” 

You sighed in relaxation, relishing in the sensations of the soft and warm towel pressed against your skin; cleaning off the sweat and excess juices. “Thank you, Toji.” 

He replied with a low hum, his hands caressing your body in a newfound tenderness. Your heart swelled at the gesture, your lips cracking a soft smile as you continued to watch the older man take good care of you and your worn out body. 

“If you’re not feelin’ too sore yet, care to join me in the shower after this?”

As if all the fatigue had instantly evaporated from your body, you had never uttered yes so fast until this very moment.

EXTRA SCENE — !

NAOYA COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES, his body frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he stared into the small crack of the door of the dressing room, his eyes unable to peer away from the sight of his older cousin fucking his ex-girlfriend like a madman; his flushed ears picking up on the lewd sounds of your stifled mewls paired with the squelching noises of both your bodies connecting together. His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd.

 He glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow beneath his boxers. Shit.

When he first stumbled across you at his cousin, Zen’in Mai’s wedding reception with Airi clinging closely onto his arm, the last thing he expected was to see you by his cousin’s side  — and what was even more frustrating was how Toji wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side without breaking eye contact. It was almost as if Toji was mocking him, especially with that smug smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

No words were exchanged between you and the blond male, there wasn’t any need to. 

Naoya had thought nothing of it, at first. After all, it had been months since you had both taken your separate ways; he immediately made his relationship with his coworker official. Although Airi could be extremely clingy at times, he felt happy — at ease, even. After all, he could finally love his woman out in the open without any more shame. Though, after the initial encounter with you and Toji, he never crossed paths with you again during the reception. He could only stare from the distance, watching you happily chat with both Maki and Mai for a brief moment before he noticed a bright pair of eyes peering at him, and he shifted his gaze onto his girlfriend’s.

An hour had nearly passed, but Naoya was, undeniably, growing the biggest urge to simply walk out of the reception and head on home. While everyone busied themselves on the dance floor, chatting away with the other guests, or getting their nth plate of the night, Naoya had excused himself to the washroom. 

Strolling down the empty hallways, his eyes scanned around the corridor to look for any familiar restroom signs — the blaring music playing that the venue rang in his ears. He stuck his hands into his pocket, feeling the irritation slowly getting to him. But then, all those feelings of growing frustration came to an abrupt halt when he heard your voice and that of another man’s. He lifted his head, tilting it over to the side in curiosity. There was noise coming from the dressing room, the door up ahead, and he could see a little bit of light peeking through the door. 

“Babe,” Naoya could hear your playful whines through the door, “I-I don’t think we should do this here..! What if someone sees us?”

“Then let them see us. This is ya fault ya know?” Toji said, his voice low. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed you sneakin’ around, pressing yer ass against my dick? There’s only so much patience I can take in, doll.”

He could hear you stifle a moan, letting out a sharp gasp as Toji thrusted his hips into yours.

“You dirty girl, look at how yer pussy’s grippin’ so nicely around my cock. You love my cock, dont’cha?”

“Mhm—Ah! Yes, baby!” You moaned pathetically, taking everything within you to control your volume. 

Naoya’s hand immediately slapped over his mouth, feeling the blood rush to his face. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten closer to the door — he could either 1) turn around to leave and return to the reception, or 2) leave to continue searching for the bathroom. Either way, the best course of action was to leave, yet he still found himself standing in front of the door — staring between the small crack in complete awe at the sight before him. 

Toji had you perched up atop the wooden dresser, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips as he slammed his hips into your drenched heat; his hands snaked underneath your dress, squeezing your ass as he pulled you closer unto his cock. You writhed, throwing your head back as you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head; your mind was going numb due to the pleasure your older boyfriend was giving you — stretching your pussy out in the most delicious way possible. 

“Y-You’re so fucking big, baby…” You mewled out, a sharp gasp leaving your lips with each thrust he slammed his fat cock into you; evoking obscene noises of your hips meeting each other. “I-I wan’ more, please… baby—!”

His mouth was agape, he had never heard you make such a sound — filled with wanton, let alone seen you make an expression so obscenely lewd; your face all flushed, your eyes clouded in unadulterated lust as drool trickled down your lips. 

 Naoya glanced down at his own trousers, noticing the ache that was beginning to grow between his legs. 

“Shit,” he mumbled out, unable to control the blood rushing to both his face and his erection. He should’ve run away –– he had to, but for some reason his feet stayed planted on the ground and his eyes were unable to look away from the pornographic scene; your hands all tangled up in his older cousin’s raven locks, his lips and tongue messily locked with yours — muffling your needy moans as he continued to fuck you in a relentless pace, the head of his cock kissing your cervix each and every time. 

Each noise that was elicited from your lips sent shocks of arousal straight to his heat, and he gritted his teeth. He knew this was wrong — hell, it even felt wrong. Yet, his feet wouldn’t budge. 

Shiiiiit.

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform. interactions / reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[buckyalpine]

In some universe I like to think Bucky likes to fuck. Hard. He holds back when he has his hands all over your body and he's trying desperately to shut out the monster in his brain screaming to ravage you because he. Wants. To. Fuck.

There are days where he wants that tender loving and he wants to be soft and sweet but on others?

The release feels to good and in that moment he's in full control, chasing that pleasure, hyper focused on the way his cockhead is dripping and swollen, more sensitive than ever. Its throbbing and his veins are pumping all the blood to his rock hard cock.

At first he does a good job of hiding it.

But then the mask begins to fall.

Primal urges want to take over but how can he ruin his sweet little bunny whose laying under him, moaning and looking at him with doe eyes.

How can he-

"Buck?"

Bucky's hips stutter at the sound of your soft voice laced with concern, your hand coming to cup his cheek.

"You okay?" You can tell he's not all there, his movements hesitant, body too stiff. You're plaint under him but his muscles are tight, jaw clenched. "What's wrong Jamie"

Jamie. The name you had for him alone made him want to fuck you till all you could do was scream his-

"We can stop if-

"No-" Bucky cuts you off before you could continue, petting your head reassuringly, "Everything's fine doll, promise" He pecks a kiss to your nose making you blink and it some how makes him harder. You're so trusting, spreading out naked on his bed, completely unsuspecting of all the dirty things he really wanted to do to you. You were checking in on him to see if he's okay, not having a clue he wanted to rail you so hard, you'd forget how to speak. Pound you till you were begging for him to stop because there was too much cum for your tiny cunt to handle and his heavy balls would still be aching for release.

"You can tell me" You whisper, wiggling from under him to wrap your soft thighs around his waist, stroking his scruffy cheek. "Please?"

Bucky doesn't think he can hide his needs for much longer. Not when your scent is all over him now; on his pillow, the sheets, its soaked onto his skin with how closely your naked bodies are pressing against each other. How can he be expected to have any self-control when you're looking up at him like that like a sweet little bunny caught in the wolfs den, cuddling into her predators chest.

"You really want to know?" His voice was husky, letting his nose trail along the column of your neck, breathing in your sweet smell, letting his tongue dart out to taste your sweat slicked skin. The action makes you gasp, clenching around him with a whimper, your eyes growing wide when a growl emits from deep in his chest, "Are you sur you really want to know?"

"Y-yes" You nod, your breath hitching in your throat at the dark smirk that appears on his face as his hand snakes up to softly clasp around your throat.

"I want to ruin you bunny" Bucky's nose nudges against your affectionately before leaning down to nip your pouty bottom lip.

"R-ruin?" You whisper, a wave of slick soaking his cock further which doesn't go unnoticed by him. He experimentally draws his hips back and snaps them forward, hitting your cervix, the salacious moan you let out driving him feral.

"I want to fuck. Promise I'll make love to you after but I want to fuck you pretty girl" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, moving to graze his teeth along your jaw. "Will you let me? Fuck this pretty little pussy?"

The breathy yes you let out is all he needs.

And fuck you he does.

-

"J-JAMIEE"

"That's it-scream-scream for me!" He roars, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts, his balls slapping your clit each time. He has you on your hands and knees though your arms gave way, your face pressed against the mattress. He brings his leg up to get a deeper angle and the feeling causes white spots to blur you vision.

"M-more-Wan' more" You weakly beg, tears streaming down your face in pleasure, your entire body being held up by his grip as he takes you from behind.

"Greedy slut, begging for more as if she isn't already full of cock and cum" Bucky gritted out, having already emptied himself in your once, your combined slick making it easier for him to pound you. "Just a hole for me to fuck, you're just here to get me off aren't you baby, just a tight little pussy for me to stuff my dick into"

"Ye-ah" You hiccup, overstimulated from the orgasms he's pulled from your body left, right and center. "So-so-good"

"S'good huh, gotta keep you well fucked for my fat cock bunny" You have no idea where he got such a filthy mouth from, another orgasm building in your belly from his words alone, "Can feel you getting tight again, lookit you cumming all over me baby, messy girl, soaking me"

You can't respond aside from wailing with pleasure, trickles of squirt wetting his thighs, the sight making his balls pull towards his body.

"That's it, good girl, fuck gonna cum bunny, gonna give you my cum and keep fucking it back into you, keep you nice and full of me" He rails you faster, the serum in his veins pumping, sweat dripping down his body. He feels impossibly hot, head thrown back as immense pleasure shoots down his spine, his pace growing sloppy. There's not a single thought in his brain other than busting load after load in your sopping cunt till his cock his soft. He doesn't care that it almost hurts, overstimulated himself, panting and rutting into you, he's so far gone, his deep moans slipping into a whimper as his cock starks to leak, he's so close-

"OH-FUCKK" Hot ropes of his spend shoot from his tip as he lets his body fall on top of you, humping and rutting himself till he's all empty, "y'feel to good, can't even stop, holy shit" He moans into your neck, suckling at your pulse point while you writhe under him feeling his cum seep out of you. His movements slow till there's nothing left, his sensitive length still tucked between your folds, pink and soft and wet with your cream. He carefully moves you so you're resting on the pillows, his cool metal hand brushing your forehead.

"Come back to me bunny" Bucky coos, chuckling at your dazed state, your eyes still unfocused, panting and blindly reaching for him, "M'right here babygirl, c'mhere, I got you" He cradles your soft body close to his, kissing your hairline. "Did so good for me princess, so so proud of you"

You let out a sleepy yawn, curling up on his chest like a content kitten, closing your eyes while nuzzling into him. You've never looked so peaceful and happy and Bucky can tell just by your happy little sigh you want more of what he gave you.

[mattslolita]

꒰ dealer!chris sturniolo ꒱ ⟡ headcanons !

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

꒰ SFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have met bambi at some house party — you was a friend of matt's, so he was only somewhat aware of your existence; real sweet and innocent, you don't know the first thing about any drugs. you're in the bathroom trying to escape the noisy atmosphere around yourself, when chris stumbles in on you, a joint hanging lazily at the edge of his lips.

"woah, can you knock next time?!"

"m'sorry didn't know anyone was in here...hey what you doin' in here, anyway? s'your friends at?"

"matt's downstairs talking to some girl, i don't know-"

"matt? you know my brother? wait, aht, i got it, know who you are, now...y'eyes, got like a uh, bambi thing goin' on, y'know? gonna call you bambi, yeah?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ never let bambi touch any drugs — he's dead set on making sure you prolong the innocence about you in that aspect.

"not even one hit? c'mon chris-"

"y'know the rules bambi, s'don't even try it. y'not takin' no hits of shit."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ chris keeps pink rolling papers, because bambi likes the color and it reminds him of your pink ribbons you wear in your ponytails.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a specific playlist for when he takes bambi on deals with him — he's got dominic fike and marina playing throughout the car as you hum contently.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ have a glove compartment full of lollies and other sweets for when you're on deals with him. the sight of bambi's lips carelessly wrapped around a cherry lolly has his mind whirling.

"got any suckers for me today?"

"y'know where to find em', doll."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ spoil bambi all the time — he's buying you clothes, perfumes, and any little thing that reminds him of you.

"this top is cute, but i don't-"

"yeah, put it in the basket."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ not have a label on your relationship — bambi's a little naive and thinks might call you his, but he's not trying to label what you have going on any time soon.

"yo, isn't she your girlfriend? she's always with you."

"girlfriend? s'not my girlfriend, nah...she's my girl though, y'get me? not datin' or no shit, jus' my girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always have bambi sat on his lap at parties — his hand drums in the innermost flesh of your thigh as he massages you, whilst the other hand diligently distributes to the awaiting palms of people.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ mad dog the fuck out of anyone who looks at bambi the wrong way — especially when you takes you on deals, he's seething with anger when a customer gets particularly too close to you.

"nice to see you, sweetheart, hopin' i'll see you more-"

"get the fuck away from her man, or i'm knockin' ya ass out where you stand."

"chris, seriously?"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ send bambi random fit checks + snaps to keep you updated when you aren't with each other. likewise, he makes you send the same back so he can keep track of where you are when he's not with you.

"new shirt, you like it?"

"it looks so good on you, baby!" ( he'd never admit baby drives him wild. )

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be affectionate to bambi in the most random ways — he's either got his arm slung around her, massaging her shoulder or he's got your legs resting atop of his own, massaging those whilst you scroll on your phone.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ always be kissing on bambi — forehead, cheek, arms, legs, anywhere he sees fit, really.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ make bambi wear his clothes when you stay the night at his place — he'll never admit that he loves the idea of having you in them, yet he can't resist the urge to smile when you're giggling sweetly about wearing them.

"i love this jersey! can i keep it baby, please?"

"y'know what, go head' sweetheart. looks good on you..."

꒰ NSFW! ꒱

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be extremely possessive in bed, especially if you're batting your eyelashes a little too much at a customer.

"he could never fuck you like this doll, could he?"

"f-fuck, no chris..."

"who's fuckin' pussy is this, huh? tell me who you fuckin' belong to."

"y-you, yours, fuck!"

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love love love to give bambi backshots — you're at a party and he's horny? he's taking you upstairs to the bathroom, bending you over the sink.

"such a good fuckin' girl, takin' my cock like this..."

"look at yourself in the mirror while i fuck you, sweet girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ finger bambi in the passenger seat if you're getting too whiny and can't wait.

"please chris, need to feel you inside me..."

"so fuckin' impatient bambi, jus' can't wait? s'all you get, my fingers...make a mess on em' c'mon angel..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ definitely have a breeding kink — though, he knows damn well the idea of bambi getting pregnant scares him, so he keeps you with birth control.

"fuck, such a tight pussy...gon' make you a mama, yeah? wan' have my babies don't you, ma?"

"gonna look so pretty carryin' our fuckin' kids, fuck..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ love high sex with you — he's lazily thrusting up into you while you ride him, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, or

"ridin' me so well ma, look so pretty on top of me like this..."

✦ his lidded eyes watch in anticipation as you're down below on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes while you suck him off.

"gah, shit mama, makin' me feel so good...keep fuckin' goin' thas my good girl..."

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ would love doggy — when you wear those short shorts around him, all he can think about is having your ass up in the air while he's pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

✦ love missionary, too — it's a more intimate position, but he can't help wanting to see your fucked out expression while he's deep inside you, watching your ever changing expression while you feel him deep inside of you.

dealer!chris would . . .

✦ be a little bad at aftercare at first, but he's slowly getting the hang of it the more time he spends with you — he's cleaning you up and massaging you after you guys finish, and ordering food for the both of you whilst he smokes a joint for himself.

( lilly's corner 💌 )

dealer!chris are my roots guys, i'm gonna start writing for him again. dealer!chris & bambi!reader are my literal babies & i hope you guys enjoy them! 💌

@muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @guccifrog @fawnchives @cottoncandyswisherz

[dumbbitchgalore]

Sleepy sex with old man!Price 🦢

Tossing and turning, you're unable to fall asleep, not with the only thing on your mind is John's cock.

Today was the worst day in history.

First you get cockblocked when your cat Evelyn put her whole head inside of your german shepard's mouth and vomitted due to the smell emitting from said mouth.

Second time it happened that day was when you subsequently tried to initiate sex but slipped on the freshly mopped floor of your shared home.

The third time you were cockblocked that day was when accidently coughed in his face when kissing.

After the third time, you subsequently stopped counting. Now you were in bed and horny as fuck with John snoring away next to you.

You turn to face him and sigh softly wanting to smack him across the face even though he didn't do anything wrong, because why not?

Snuzzling into his side, you drape your leg over his torso and hold tightly onto him hoping that that'll help you fall asleep. Alas, it did not help. The feeling of him under your fingertips accompained by the peacefulness painting his visage, you caress his cheek affectionately.

A single caress turns onto a peck on his cheek. The peck turns into a hickey on the side of his neck. And the hickey turns into John's cerulean eyes fluttering open lazily while he pulls you on top of him, holding you close to his chest.

He gives you a chuckle at your eagerness to hold onto him tight.

"Can't sleep, birdie?"

You shake your head and look at him through your lashes watching his sleepy expression.

"Not with you on my mind, honey." You mutter softly, as you sit up on his lap and grind down ever so slightly.

He sighs softly, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"Birdie, I haven't taken viagra yet so I won't get hard for you, sweets." He mumbles, embarrassed by his inability to perform well.

You huff in annoyance and kiss his lips chastely. "When did that ever matter to me, baby? I just wanna suck on it for a while."

John sighs once again, as you situate yourself between his thighs, as you tug his pants down. He doesn't stop your ministrations nor does he encourage them. He simply lays down in bed with his arm over his eyes.

Kissing his soft cock, you lift your head up. "Baby, just close your eyes and relax."

He reluctantly moves his arm away from his face and closes his eyes, his muscles relaxing his you pepper his soft cock with kisses upon kisses.

You moan softly, giggling simlutaneously as your heart fills with love for him. Sucking delicately on the tip, you lick the slit before circling it with your tongue earning a hum of approval from John.

You lick the vein running along his cock, occassionally sucking his balls softly. Nuzzling against the softness of his now saliva-coated cock.

"You have no idea what you do to me." You whisper warranting a scuffy chuckle from John.

You continue your work for a while before John pleads for you to sit on his face, lapping, licking and sucking you until you cum all over his face. He moans in satisfaction as he swallows your release.

You get off his face and lay on your side, next to him while giving him a lazily smile, feeling a wave of sleepiness coming over you.

He brushes the hair out of your face. "Feeling tired, birdie?"

You nod in response, your exhausted expression finally matching John's dozy one. He haphazardly pushes his soft cock into you as you whimper softly.

"Keep it warm for me until it's time to wake up. Okay, birdie?"

[arundolyn]

just realized its kinda crazy how much wagner calls people dogs as an insult when she is like licht kreis's most feral weird little guard dog in the history of that organization. her bloodline is literally known for being intense and unhinged in its allegiance to licht kreis but i think she's probably the craziest about it. reflect inward ma'am