#what the hell did i do to deserve this. seriously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

selfcarecap · 2 months ago

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MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.

He could give it to you.

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.

Sappy motherfucker.

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.

He wakes up with morning wood.

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.

It’s soo stupid.

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.

“Did you draw it?” He asks.

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”

“Secret admirer?”

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him.

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

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

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mouthpoisons · 9 days ago

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like look ive adored and immensely related to viktor since day 1 but ive also spent years extremely unsure of where they were going with him in terms of disabled representation and thinking they were just going to keep torturing and punishing him for the crime of not wanting to die before his time having lead an unfulfilling life. then season 2 started rolling out and they ramped it all up and he kept dying and being resurrected against his will and we couldnt tell if he was being mind controlled or if he was even In There Anymore or anything and i seriously lost hope for a satisfying ending for a while. my whole opinion of his arc was hinging on these last 3 episodes and

what the hell do you mean this actually Landed as the most profound and home hitting narrative about internalised ableism ive ever experienced. that he Hated Himself and didnt believe he deserved or would ever recieve love and his obsession with overcompensating and proving he was worth anything spiralled until he nearly destroyed the whole world but he was brought back down to earth and Saved by being told he was is and always will be loved unconditionally. that his flaws are beautiful. All of him was held and adored fiercely until the end. like are you fucking kidding me. they actually did make him For Us ♿

#post #arcane #arcane spoilers #viktor arcane #jayvik #i dont think anyone is ever gonna do it like him again im sitting here with tears streaming down my face #it hasnt. really sunk in yet how Good He Is #i was expecting them to kinda turn it around by ending it on him fully owning being the machine herald #what do you MEAANNNNNNN HE WAS LOVED SO MUCH AND HE WAS ENOUGH AS HE WAS

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logansdoll · 4 months ago

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jim beam

navigating life in a new universe was already a bit of a struggle for Logan... and Wade just had to make it worse (or far, far, far better) by giving him a "house-warming gift".

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Deadpool 3, Wade is actually really hard to write for, Logan deserves the world, comfort, angst if you squint, etc.

"Honey, I'm home!" Wade loudly sang, kicking open the door to Logan's apartment with a dramatic flourish.

"Fuck me," Logan groaned from his spot on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his head to lull back with annoyance.

This defeated the entire purpose of why he got his own apartment in the first place.

To avoid these types of interactions with the most persistently, consistently annoying asshole in the entire multiverse.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to the friend who's about to bring your long lost lover back from the dead?" Wade tutted, skipping into the living room, taking notice of the bottle of liquor resting in Logan's hand.

'So it's that kinda morning...'

"Jim Beam at 10 am on a Tuesday?" he noted, "Well, I guess it's five o'clock nowhere... so have at it."

"What did you just say?" Logan sat up straight, brows furrowed as he focused on Wade's previous statement.

"Alcoholics everywhere salute you for taking your liver where no organ has gone before."

"Wade."

"I'm honestly starting to believe you do it for the love of the game rather than the expositional, look how sad he is plot device the author is currently using... I mean, seriously? Can we skip past all this bullshit and get to the—"

Quickly, Logan grabbed him by the front of his suit, yanking him closer with an angrily confused expression.

"If anything besides a goddamn answer comes out of your mouth... I will stab you in the face," he growled, spelling out each syllable to further his point. "What the hell do you mean bring her back from the dead?"

To Logan, you were everything

The sun. The moon. The air. The clouds.

Despite seeing all the horrible thing he'd done, and knowing firsthand just how much of an asshole he could be, you still smiled at him.

No matter how many times he pushed you away, you were relentless.

Keeping his room together while he was away finding himself.

Making him meals when you noticed he he'd gone without eating.

Forcing him to take breathers after intense sessions in the Danger Room.

For the longest, he couldn't wrap his head around someone like you caring about a jackass like him.

Until he got fed up and just outright asked.

But, as if nothing, you answered:

"Your past makes think you don't deserve love, Logan," you started, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned up against the counter. "You storm around here with a rude ass attitude and a smart mouth hoping to convince me of that... but if anything, you're only making it worse for yourself."

You smiled, looking up at him with a glint in your eye that sent shocks running down his spine.

"Because in my heart of hearts I know you're a man who wants care and attention, just like everybody else."

With a chuckle, you rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"And I'll keep shovin' dinners down your throat until you realize that."

Despite having everyone else fooled, you saw right through him, and true to your word, you didn't give up.

With every made bed, every meal, every conversation, Logan felt himself falling deeper into your charm, and over a glass of Jim Beam did he finally realize that he was in love with you.

But, like everything else he cared about in this world, you were taken away from him.

Unable to find your body in the rubble of the mansion, he looked high and low, quite literally going to the ends of the Earth to find you.

But after years of searching with nothing to show for it, he returned to the bottle, drowning himself in sorrow and regret.

Or, at least... until now.

"Well, according to the manual, she's not exactly dead, but she is unconscious," Wade answered, matter-of-factly.

"Unconscious?" Logan's brows furrowed, still quite confused.

Freeing himself from the man's grip, Wade stood up, going back around the couch and pulling out a small tablet from his pocket.

"See, I've noticed your humble abode could use a little sprucing, so I went back to our buddies at the TVA and kindly reminded them that you saved the multiverse and, godammnit, you deserve a reward."

"Get to the fuckin' point, jackass," Logan spat, turning to face him.

"So they sent some men back to your universe and found your girl!" Wade cheered, opening up a portal and reaching his hand in, pulling out a cryo-chamber with you inside.

The moment Logan's eyes met your sleeping face, all color and vibrancy seemed to return to the world.

He was at a loss for words.

You were here... not some dream or hallucination of guilt... but actually, truly, physically here.

"Apparently, some science fuckers were keeping her in a black site and testing to see how long she could go without aging. I won't bore you with the details," Wade explained, pulling out a small knife from his boot. "Now, let's break this bad boy open and meet the future Mrs. Wolverine!"

Before Logan could stop him, Wade stabbed the keypad at the side of the chamber, opening the door and sending you falling forward.

In an instant, Logan dropped his bottle and leaped over the couch, catching you just before you could face-plant on the hardwood floor.

"Watch it!" Logan roared, less than happy that you'd only been there for about three minutes and Wade had already almost broken your nose.

"I am so sorry!" Wade gasped, his hands slapping his cheeks in shock. "I didn't think she'd actually fall out the chamber when they told me she'd fall out the chamber... Nice save, though, Romeo."

Turning you over, Logan cupped your cheek, the chill of your skin already beginning to warm.

But you were still out cold, limp in his grasp as he held you close to his chest.

"She's not waking up..." Logan noticed, brows furrowed. "Why the hell isn't she waking up?"

"Easy there, tiger. They told me how long it takes varies from person to person," Wade assured, shutting the portal. "Some take minutes, others hours. It could be a couple of days before she even opens her eyes."

An expression of solemnity slid over Logan's face as he gazed over yours, your skin still so flesh colored, it looked as if you were sleeping.

Just as soft and tender as he remembered.

And he had full intentions on keeping it that way.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he ghosted his hand over your cheek.

In that moment, he swore to himself that he'd never leave you again.

He'd be a friend, a bodyguard, a lover, whatever you wanted, but no matter his title, anything that wanted to harm you would have to do so over his dead body.

And even then he'd force himself to get back up and fight.

This world was giving him a second chance at life, a second chance at a life with you, and he'd be damned if he let anything ruin it.

Suddenly, you took in an aggressive gasp, scaring the shit out of Wade as your eyes snapped open.

"Holy fucking shit nuggets!" he jolted, jumping from his spot across he room as Logan allowed his shoulders to sink, mumbling a quiet thanks to whatever god or deity brought you back to him.

Feeling a strong set of arms cradling you, you looked up, solace setting into your bones at the sight of the familiar man before you, who was unable to stop the few joyful tears escaping his eyes.

"Logan—"

Without a moment's hesitation, his lips were on yours, making up for what felt like a lifetime of loss by dumping all of his passion, all of his love, all of his devotion into one Earth shattering kiss.

You melted into it seamlessly, your hand finding home in his scruffy hair as he pulled you flush against him, clutching you with a death grip.

Donning a cheeky smile under his mask, Wade turned away to give you both a moment, thought not without making a crude sex gesture behind his back.

'I don't think Miss (Y/N)/Girl Sitting At Home Reading This is gonna be able to walk tomorrow...'

With a gasp, the two of you separated, Logan's hand raising to cup your cheek, relishing how easily you leaned into him.

"(y/n)... I thought I lost you," he panted, his eyes scouring over your face, committing every detail to memory.

"For a while, you did," you sighed with a grin, carding a hand through the few gray strands in his hair, before comparing them to your own. "Time looks good on you."

He chuckled, quietly relieved you still found him attractive after all these years.

Sitting up, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled the man into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm not really sure what happened... or how I'm alive..." you weakly laughed, starting to get choked up. "But I know that if you go out drinking without me ever again, I'm putting your head on a spike."

Instantly, Logan's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you reverently as if he let go for one moment, the powers that be would part him from you.

"I swear on my life... I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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l0vergirlwrites · 7 months ago

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gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: inspired by taylor swift’s song “guilty as sin”

alsooo i just had to get this out of my system because ahhhh!!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

#l0vergirlwrites💌#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things netflix #fanfic

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lucimaaie · 3 months ago

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big deal ✧.* tlou

pairing - Ellie Williams x fem!reader, ellie williams x miller!reader

summary - you and ellie fight over your jealousness.

warning - short, not proofread bc what is that, lil angst to fluff, possibly occ ellie idk

jealousy was something ellie knew all to well. though she wasn’t exactly ready to deal with it in you. she didn’t entertain any other girl (not on purpose) and left you very mushy (to be kept private for that very reason, notes when she was gone with joel and tommy. and yet, you were jealous.

“i’m serious. i don’t see how she was flirting,” ellie walked along side you, ahead of joel and tommy who had been tuning in and out of the argument.

“really? she did the arm squeeze, el. i did that before we got together, remember?” you walked at a pace faster than anyone else, the embarrassment of having to explain your thought process making you want to run away just for a moment. yes, you were jealous of some girl you barely knew and yes you were having this conversation in front of your dad and uncle. it wasn’t something to be particularly proud of

“the arm squeeze?” ellie looked at you incredulously as she walked to keep up with you. “the arm squeeze.” she repeated.

“yes!” you stressed.

“the fuck is that?”

“it’s basic psychology, ellie. the arm squeeze means she likes you. did you not know that when i—“

“does it matter? i like you, not her.”

“i know that.”

“then i don’t get why this is such a big deal, i’m dating you!” though her words rang true something in them didn’t agree with you. maybe it was the just the heat getting to you and not envy. maybe, but it didn’t matter the reason because your feet took you elsewhere as soon as you got to an old abandoned outlet.

you walked around the open space, kicking rocks of debris around as you looked at the broken in and looted stores. some caught your interest and you ventured into them despite joel’s warning to not go too far. you hadn’t even noticed ellie creeping behind you as you flipped through old ripped magazines. “ellie!” you screamed, covering your mouth.

she looked equally as shocked as you as you waited for sounds of clickers, runners, or any monster in the shadows. when the coast was clear, ellie smiled sheepishly and leaned against the counter you sat on. “so..jealous.” she tapped the counter, looking up at you.

“i..don’t want to talk about it, el. you’re right. it doesn’t matter.” you flipped through the magazine as opposed to looking at her. the image of carefree teens looking back at you made you frown. ellie grabbed the paper from your hand and set it on the counter.

“you did an hour ago.” she said with seriousness this time.

“that was an hour ago. it’s not a big deal, like you said.”

ellie shut her eyes as you threw her words back at her. she knew deserved it to some capacity. “it’s not nothing. okay, maybe she was flirting, but i didn’t flirt back, i swear.”

“you don’t have to—“

“yes, i do because you’ll just keep talking about it until i get you to believe me.” she sat down next to you on the counter, her hand coming down over yours. her eyes flicked from your hands to your face.

“i believe you, el.”

“so, then why’re you still mad at me?”

“i’m not. not really. i mean, i was. it’s stupid. i don’t get jealous about anything but—“

“me?” she said, her eyes widening in surprise. you could tell the way she held back a smile, even if the mood was serious.

“no, cupcakes. yes you!”

“alright, alright. i’m just clarifying.” she held up her hands in peace. “you only get jealous about me? actually?”

“yeah. and it does not feel good being the jealous girlfriend. at all. i just started an argument with you over an arm squeeze.”

“you did.” she laughed lightly as she knocked her shoulder into yours.

“my theory is still valid.”

“bullshit. i smell bullshit.” she sung. “i get jealous when it comes to you too. i just..don’t say anything.”

“and i turn it into an argument.”

“both equally as shitty.”

“not a competition.”

“like hell it is.”

the light of flashlight flicked on and off and your direction. the sight made you and ellie squint your eyes before you recognized it was joel’s signal in a place like this. “c’mon. gotta get back before the oldies get grumpy.” ellie hopped off the counter and reached for your hand. you did the same and intertwined your fingers with hers.

“e?” you said as you two walked out of the store and into the empty space. she hummed. “if..when you get jealous. could you tell me?”

she looked at from the ground to you. she seemed to consider it for a moment before gnawing on her lip. “you’d get annoyed with me.”

“did i not just piss you off fighting with you?”

“eh.”

“i’m saying annoy me, piss me off back. i’m your girlfriend, i can handle that.” you shrugged as you spoke the words despite your feelings underneath the facade. the whole girlfriend thing was new to the both of you, who known each other for years at this point. you knew the most about each other than anyone else. neither one of you want to be the one to mess it up.

“i’ll hold you to that.” ellie said quietly. your words seemed to give her an unexpected confidence boost enough to pull you closer to her and press a gentle kiss onto your lips. her own were but a bit cracked but that didn't matter as her came to cup your face. she pulled back, eyes soft with affection and hint of anxiety for your reaction. this wasn't your first time kissing each other, she didn't know why she was desperate for- "mph!" she hummed against your lips as you kissed her again. this time still sweet, but not so gentle.

“are yall kissing?” tommy yelled.

you and ellie quickly dispersed, pretending to be enamored with the broken displays of the stores. it wasn't surprising that neither Tommy or Joel bought it. Joel simply waved you two over, glaring as you walked ahead of him, hand-in hand. the air of awkwardness barely lasted a minute before you and ellie burst out laughing, only to be shushed by a grumbling, mildly mortified Joel. "to be continued." Ellie mumbled into your ear.

thank you for reading!

#jackson!ellie #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x miller!reader

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selenitesdawn · 1 month ago

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Temperance (3/3)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Your best friend Kate convinced you to do charity work in Sokovia with some of your old classmates, including your former bully Vision and his girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, who you inconveniently took too much of a liking in. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is still with vision… cheating, implications of stalking and manipulation, possessive wanda, power-imbalance, dom!wanda, sub!reader, nsfw: mild choking, nipple play, thigh riding, orgasm delay, fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving) word count: 3150 a/n: i strongly recommend reading part 1 & part 2 first, for context.

When it was time to leave the shelter, you had hoped with every fibre of your being that Wanda would want you to ride with her again. That she wanted to spend more time with you. But she didn’t ask. While watching Vision and Wanda get in their car, you felt a lump forming inside your throat. As your bottom lip started to tremble slightly, you knew that whatever last chance you had to get out of this without permanent damage, just extinguished. The physical and mental exhaustion from the past days caught up to you as soon as you sat down in the backseat next to Kate. You still heard the muffled voices of Steve and Bucky, probably talking about the political and economic state of the world, before the tiredness knocked you out. Kate tried her best to hold your head on her lap more or less steady, wanting you to get the rest you desperately needed.

“Hey y/n, wake up,” Kate whispered softly, while running her fingers through your hair. “We’re here.”

Still half-asleep, Kate helped you with getting out of the car. Holding your eyes open became increasingly difficult, your legs barely able to carry you. You had to wrap your right arm around Kate for support, as the two of you made your way to bed. It might have just been your imagination, but you could have sworn that Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you. Just the thought gave you an adrenaline kick, your heart pumping faster again. But even then, you felt like falling asleep any minute. And as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out.

The next morning, you woke up feeling at least somehow well-rested. It was the first time since you got here, that you woke up on your own and not from annoying shouting or the sound of Kate’s alarm clock. With your eyes barely open, you looked at the clock on your night stand. It was already 10 a.m. Immediate panic sat in at the thought that you could have possibly overslept. Why didn’t Kate’s alarm go off? Turning to the other side in the expectation to see Kate, you were instead greeted by another familiar face.

“W- Wanda?,” you managed to stutter out, your voice barely audible.

Wanda was sitting on an armchair not too far away from you, directly facing the bed you were sleeping in. “Good morning sleepyhead. I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” she said in a calm tone, her lips curved into a warm smile. And although she sounded harmless and sincere, your heart stopped beating for a second.

How long has she been here?

“So… soon? It’s 10 o’clock, we-.. we should be sitting in the car,” you stated while rubbing your eyes.

Wanda chuckled softly, her hands firmly grabbing the armrests for a split second. “Don’t worry about that sweetheart,” Wanda replied, her voice sounding sweet like honey. “We deserve a day off, don’t you think?”

Slightly baffled, you put your head in your hands for a moment, trying to collect yourself. “Did the others leave?,” you questioned, looking up at Wanda again.

“They will leave any minute now,” Wanda responded, almost cooing. “I assured them that I would take good care of you.”

That is when it finally clicked. You weren’t asleep. This was really happening. It felt like all of your blood rushed straight to your face, as the seriousness of the situation finally reached your brain. What the hell was happening? Instinctively, you quickly got up. You needed to talk to Kate.

“That is really nice of you Wanda,” you smiled nervously as you started walking towards the door. “I will just quickly ta-“

But before you could finish, you were stopped by Wanda’s hand firmly pressing against your shoulder. You didn’t even notice that she got up at all. Now she was blocking the door. “Do you know why you’re here y/n?,” she asked sweetly, her eyes burning into yours. Even now, her face looked as calm and content as always. However, her pupils were slightly dilated. It was almost unnoticeable. But not to you. You saw it before.

You swallowed hard, the tension between you and Wanda slowly but surely pressing down on your chest. “Well-… yes. To help the street dogs.”

“No y/n,” Wanda blurted out sternly. “Do you know why you’re here? How you ended up right here? With me?”

You didn’t know what she wanted to hear from you. By now you weren’t able to keep your gaze on her anymore, your stomach feeling lighter with every passing second. “I don’t think I understand-“

Without a warning, Wanda’s hand traveled closer to your neck, her thumb firmly pressing into the soft space between your collarbones. “Vision somehow had to make up for his ugly behavior during highschool, don’t you think?,” she murmured with a small smirk.

Although you were completely hypnotized by Wanda’s behavior, hearing her talk about Vision’s wrongdoings somehow caught you off-guard.

“He told you?”

But she didn’t reply to your question. Instead she intertwined her left hand with yours, your fingers instinctively reciprocating her grip. Wanda’s other hand meanwhile rested on your cheek. “He’s an asshole isn’t he?,” she asked you, her tone genuine. “And you look so pretty and innocent on your yearbook photo, sweetheart. How could anyone ever be mean to you like that?”

“I- uhm, I forgave him. It’s fine. Really.”

You were so distracted by Wanda’s touch that you didn’t ask how she saw your yearbook photo. Besides, she probably just flipped through the pages with Vision right?

“You didn’t deserve any of what he did to you,” Wanda continued as her thumb brushed over your cheek. Her soft thumb and the cold metal from her rings were driving you insane. You felt yourself leaning into her touch without hesitation. Then Wanda spoke up again. “Even years later, there was no sign of regret for his actions.”

You turned your head slightly away from Wanda’s hand, your eyebrows furrowing. “Well, he invited me here right? To make it up?”

Wanda took her hands back to herself, her demeanor changing into something darker. She let out a small chuckle, her face turned to the floor before she looked at you again. “Silly girl.”

She brushed past you, walking towards a small glass table. Your gaze followed her but you didn’t move from your spot. It felt like you were frozen. Stuck. You wondered if the door was locked. If you could leave if you wanted to. But you didn’t check.

Wanda’s back was turned towards you as you heard the sound of metal clinking. “You would let me do just anything to you, wouldn’t you angel?,” she asked while gradually taking her rings off, one by one. With every single ring, you felt the heat between your legs intensifying. It was almost embarrassing how much it impacted you.

“I-”

Before you had time to lose your shit even further, Wanda turned around and walked towards you again. Her voice seemed to cut the tension in the air, as she approached you with a heavy smirk on her face. “Are you wet for me y/n?,” Wanda murmured into your ear, her hot breath giving you goosebumps.

“Wanda I-,“ you whimpered desperately before Wanda interrupted you.

“I know you are.”

Her hand traveled to your abdomen. Whatever common sense you had left at this point, was now completely gone. You felt her index finger sliding under the waistband of your pants. “Say it. Tell me how wet you are…,” she commanded, a second finger sliding inside your pants “,…for me.”

All of a sudden you heard Vision from downstairs, calling out for Wanda. For a moment you had forgotten that he existed. But now a shiver ran down your spine, your heart pumping even faster than before. Wanda on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. By now her entire hand was inside your pants, slowly traveling towards your panties.

Wanda let out a soft moan under her breath, “Your body is aching for me. I feel it.” Her gaze was dark, her pupils covering most of her irises. It felt like you were being preyed upon. But your thoughts were still with Vision and the fear of being caught.

“Vision is-,“ you tried to argue. But Wanda quickly shut you up, removing her hand from your pants and putting it over your mouth, as her gaze became stern.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me detka?,” she hissed, pushing her body into yours until you ended up with your back against a wall. You nodded frantically, causing Wanda to smirk again. “Then don’t say his name. He doesn’t matter.”

He doesn’t matter.

Wanda slowly released her grip on you and took a step backwards. Before eyeing you up and down, she turned on her heel and walked towards the door. With a last glance over her shoulder, she opened it and left the room.

“I’m coming babe!,” you heard her call out.

The door was open the entire time. You could have left whenever you wanted to. And you still could. Ultimately, something felt off about the whole situation. Something felt off about the way Wanda talked to you. What she said to you. What she made you feel. While Wanda was gone, you tried to collect yourself. Although you were no longer pressed against the wall, you felt yourself unable to move. In an attempt to gain back control, you were squeezing your legs together, which were almost trembling from the arousal you felt. But then you heard the front door falling shut. By now, the anticipation almost made you faint.

“Oh, sweet y/n,” Wanda cooed as she appeared in the door frame again. As she walked towards you, her mouth stayed slightly agape, her tongue brushing against her upper lip. “All I need to hear from you is that you want me y/n.” When she reached you again, her hands quickly found their way to your waist, slightly pushing your hips towards her own. “And I know you do. But it’s your decision sweetheart.”

“I-… I want you.”

Your eyes widened at your own words. Seemingly brainless, your confession left your lips faster than you had intended. As the words hung in the room, you saw Wanda’s eyelids flutter slightly. She tilted her head, her smirk turning into a big grin. Your hips were still pushing into each other as Wanda slightly lifted her right leg, her thigh now inbetween your legs, holding them open. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, your body already far too sensitive for what was about to happen.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?,” Wanda teased, her thigh dangerously close to your pulsing core. You just nodded eagerly, feeling your eyes already roll to the back of your head. Without warning, Wanda pushed her upper thigh against your pussy, making you groan. “Say it," she demanded coldly.

“I want you,” you started declaring, feeling your arousal soaking through the fabric of your pants “,to fuck me so bad.”

“Such a good girl.”

Wanda's face was just inches apart from yours, her eyes hungrily flickering between your face and your body. As Wanda got closer, you could feel her lips softly brushing against your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. As she softly bit down on your pulse point, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You needed to release the tension that had built up inside your panties. Distressed, you tried to rub against Wanda's thigh, the friction making you groan into her ear. For a few seconds Wanda didn’t react, her mouth still busy with your neck. But then, Wanda took a step back, releasing any contact you had.

“So impatient huh?,” she taunted.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, the lust inside you becoming unbearable to endure. As you pressed your lips into a thin line, a whimper escaped. Wanda’s eyes bore into your soul, her gaze filled with desire.

“Shhh pretty girl. You have waited almost six weeks now, haven’t you?,” Wanda murmured under her breath, her hand slowly traveling under your shirt, up to your chest. As her bare hand touched your boob, your mind went completely blank. She started pinching your hardened nipple, her eyes never leaving your face. “Imagine how much patience I’ve had. You can wait for a bit. Let me savor this moment.”

As Wanda roughly squeezed your breasts, every other thought left your body. Maybe you had found yourself in a dangerous situation. Maybe Wanda had you exactly where she wanted to have you. And maybe you didn’t care.

Once Wanda was satisfied with your sore nipples, she let her hands run over your body, down to your stomach. As she crouched down in front of you, pulling your pants down slowly, her eyes lit up even more. The sight of your panties sticking tightly to your pussy was enough to make her feral.

“God, you’re drenched,” she chuckled darkly, licking her lips like she was about to devour you whole.

“Please,” you managed to gulp, looking down at Wanda who watched you vigorously.

Wanda got up carefully, her eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t know what was happening to you. Her energy became darker, more intense with every second. She did not only take over your entire mind. It felt like her aura was crackling all over the room. The redhead’s right index finger slowly slid along your jaw until it stopped at your chin and she grabbed your face.

“Who do you belong to sweetheart?,” Wanda whispered softly. Abruptly, you felt pressure on your clit. Wanda’s left thumb was pushing firmly against your panties, leaving you completely breathless. Her touch was intoxicating.

“I-”, you breathed out before Wanda pressed two fingers into you, your panties still in the way.

“Tell me,” she demanded sharply. Her thumb started circling around your clit, your legs already twitching from the impact. You needed her so bad.

“I… belong to you.”

“Say my name,” Wanda retorted sternly, her fingers pressing deeper and deeper into you. You just wanted her inside of you, filling you up. While Wanda waited for you to reply, the state you were in left you lightheaded. You couldn’t think straight. Or at all. You needed her.

“Wanda-”

“No. Say you belong to me. I want you to say my name,” Wanda growled, pushing your face closer to hers. Your noses were almost touching, Wanda’s hot breath hitting your lips.

It took a lot of energy but you managed to say just what Wanda wanted to hear, “I belong to you, Wanda.”

That was the final drop. In a flash, she pulled your panties to the side and roughly thrusted two fingers into you. Your head was about to fall back in pleasure, but Wanda held your face steady, catching your moan with her open mouth. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, Wanda hungrily soaking up every part of you. Her fingers were curling up inside of you, constantly reinforcing the pressure that was building up. As Wanda noticed the intervals of your muffled moans becoming shorter, she quickly slipped a third finger in. The increased pressure made your knees weak.

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well,” Wanda moaned in-between your kisses, almost sending you over the edge. With every thrust your back hit the wall roughly, but you couldn’t focus on anything else besides Wanda’s touch. As waves of pleasure rippled through your body, every single one added to your approaching orgasm, making you feel like you’re about to explode.

“Please Wanda, I- I’m gonna-.”, you whimpered desperately.

Then suddenly, Wanda stopped. You felt her fingers slipping out of you, leaving your trembling legs barely able to hold your weight. Your immense desire made you squeeze your legs together, the need for release overwhelming you. Meanwhile Wanda put her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking up your arousal.

“Mmh you taste so fucking good baby,” she murmured, her gaze almost haunting. “I want you to cum in my mouth. Think you can do that angel?”

You nodded eagerly, a small whimper escaping your lips.

“Good girl.”

Wanda grabbed you by the waist and helped you get onto the bed. Once you laid down, everything started spinning. Up until that point, you hadn’t realized how dizzy you felt. But in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less. As you felt Wanda taking your soaking panties off, you looked up to see her hungry eyes fixated on your swollen pussy. Then, her eyes met yours again. She quickly climbed on top of you, hovering over your body. As her face was upon yours, your noses touching, her facial features started to soften.

“I will take such good care of you my love. You won’t ever have to worry about anything,” she whispered softly. Her tone was sincere and charged with emotion, leaving you a little baffled. Wanda’s lips met yours again, but this time the kiss was soft and loving. When she pulled away, a soft smile remained on her face. Your eyes got teary at the sudden affection, your brain unable to process what was happening before Wanda went down on you.

Her mouth softly coated your puffy clit, sending electricity through your body. Wanda started slowly sucking on your pussy, moaning at the raw taste of you. Her hands were keeping your waist in place, as your hips kept moving up with every suck. It didn’t take long until your legs started shaking, your orgasm approaching once again.

“F- Fuck Wanda-," you groaned, the immense pleasure overwhelming you. Wanda’s tongue started swirling in-between your folds before dipping inside of you in a steady rhythm. She went harder and harder, her nose simultaneously rubbing against your clit.

“I’m-," you couldn’t finish your sentence, your orgasm washing over you in the same breath. Wanda licked you clean, moaning at the sound of your desperate cries, while you tried to push her head away.

As you came down from your high, Wanda got up and laid down next to you. You were facing each other when she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. Her gaze was filled with something more than sheer desire and lust. You had seen it in her eyes the first day you met each other. She looked at you like you were the center of her universe. Like nothing else mattered. With a satisfied smile on her face, she rested her forehead on yours.

“You’re mine y/n. Don’t you ever forget that.”

You didn’t even need to answer. Wanda knew that she was right. And so did you.

taglist: @xenaizogie @gabby-duhh

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda x you #kate bishop x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader

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simplygojo · 2 months ago

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More Than Enough

Author's Note: This was such a thoughtful request so thank you very very much for requesting it anon!! I liked writing this, and I tried to stay true to thier personalities, let me know your thoughts :)

My requests are always open :)

Request: “Can you write a fluff fic about insecurity’s with toji and nanami?” - Anonymous

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Kento Nanami x f!reader

Warnings : mentions of negative thoughts, comforting men

✧.* —TOJI FUSHIGURO— ✧.*

The weight of your thoughts hung over you like a thick, oppressive fog. You sat on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, staring at the muted glow of the TV screen without really watching.

The room was dim, illuminated only by the flickering light from the screen and the pale reflection of the moon on the window. It should have been peaceful, but the knot in your stomach twisted tighter with every passing second.

Beside you, Toji Fushiguro was the embodiment of ease.

His broad frame relaxed against the cushions, one arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.

That subtle touch of his used to calm you.

Tonight though, it only seemed to magnify the storm swirling inside your chest.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His sharp, chiselled features were shadowed in the dim light, and even with his half-lidded gaze, Toji looked every bit the unshakable man you knew him to be.

He had that quiet strength, that effortless confidence that seemed untouchable.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were falling apart, cracking under the weight of everything he wasn’t—everything you were.

And it wasn’t fair to him.

You shifted uncomfortably, the words burning in your throat, but your heart was racing too fast to keep them down.

“Something on your mind, princess?” His voice broke the silence, low and smooth.

He hadn’t even looked at you when he said it, as if he already knew. Maybe he did.

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, but you couldn't help the wave of insecurity that followed.

Princess—did you even deserve a name like that?

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “I just… sometimes I don’t feel like I’m enough. Like I’m too ordinary compared to you.”

The second the words left your mouth, a rush of heat crept up your neck, a mixture of shame and vulnerability.

You’d never said it out loud before. It sounded ridiculous now, selfish even, to admit something so deeply buried.

Toji wasn’t the type to coddle insecurities. He faced the world head-on, and part of you feared he would just shrug it off.

But instead, Toji’s gaze finally landed on you, his smirk fading just a touch.

“Ordinary?” He repeated the word as if it was foreign coming from your lips.

“Where the hell did you get that idea?”

Your fingers fidgeted in your lap as you avoided his eyes, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

“I mean, look at you, Toji. You’re strong, untouchable… You never seem unsure of yourself, and I… I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time.”

Your voice broke on that last part, and you hated yourself for it. Why did you feel so small next to him?

Maybe it was just being next to someone so self-assured, so in control, who had this strange way of magnifying your own insecurities.

And even now, the silence that followed felt like it was suffocating you.

Maybe he was annoyed. Maybe he thought you were being childish. Maybe—

Before your mind could spiral any further, Toji’s calloused fingers curled beneath your chin, gently forcing your gaze to meet his.

The intensity in his green eyes made your breath hitch in your throat.

There was no judgment there, no impatience—just a look that was so focused, so real, it made your heart stutter.

“You think I care about any of that?” His voice was quieter now, but laced with a seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t need you to be some kind of warrior. If I wanted that, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. His touch was grounding, but your thoughts were racing, a mix of disbelief and hope. Could it really be that simple? Could you really be enough for someone like Toji?

“Toji, I—”

“I’m not perfect,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly, almost like he was amused by the idea.

“Sure, I’m real close–but I’m just good at pretending. I’ve got more blood on my hands than you can imagine. Things you don’t even want to know about.”

Your heart clenched at that.

You knew Toji’s past was dark, that he carried a heavy weight on his shoulders, but the way he spoke about it now—there was a pain in his voice, one he rarely let show.

And yet here he was, letting you see a piece of that burden.

“But you’re still—” you started, wanting to reassure him, wanting to say anything to ease that weight in his voice.

“Stop saying things that are so obviously not true,” he said, cutting you off again.

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, the roughness of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness of the gesture. “You’re the only damn thing that makes me feel human. That’s all that matters.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the weight of your own insecurities seemed to lift, replaced by something softer, warmer.

Toji didn’t care about the things you weren’t. He cared about the things you were. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

“Toji…” you whispered, your voice trembling as the flood of emotion threatened to overwhelm you.

“What you don’t think you’re hot enough? Or smart enough?” His smirk returned, but this time it was softer, more intimate. “You think I’d ever be with someone who wasn’t just as good as me?”

The conviction in his voice, the way he said it like it was a fact and not just some comforting lie, made your throat tighten with emotion.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and before you could say anything, Toji pulled you into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against your skin, “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Your chest tightened, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as you could.

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest was the only thing grounding you now, the only thing keeping you from falling apart under the weight of his words.

In Toji’s arms, with the warmth of his embrace and the steadiness of his presence, your insecurities began to fade. Maybe they’d come back in time, but for now, you let yourself believe that you were more than enough for him.

For the man who’d seen the worst the world had to offer and still chose to see the good in you.

✧.* — KENTO NANAMI — ✧.*

You sat curled up on the couch, scrolling absently through your phone. The TV hums quietly in the background, but your attention has drifted elsewhere.

Your eyes flicker from your screen to the man beside you, Nanami Kento, who is deeply immersed in a book. Even in his casual state, glasses perched on his nose, the faintest crease in his brow as he reads, he looks flawless—like he stepped out of a movie.

The soft lighting of your living room casts a warm glow over his sharp features, and you can't help but compare the two of you.

Your fingers trace mindless patterns on the edge of your phone, but your thoughts swirl with insecurity.

How does someone like him—poised, handsome, effortlessly put together—choose to be with someone like you?

You can’t shake the feeling that you’re… lacking.

The reflection in your phone screen catches your eye, and you frown at the imperfections you’ve never quite been able to ignore.

Your hair’s a little messy from a long day, your clothes plain in comparison to the polished image of Nanami sitting just a few feet away. The familiar knot of insecurity tightens in your chest.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate yourself—you try—but when you’re sitting next to someone who seems perfect, those little doubts grow louder.

You think of all the women out there who would fit beside him better.

Women who are effortlessly stunning, stylish—everything you’re not. The thoughts churn in your head until you let out a small, defeated sigh, trying to quiet the voices.

Nanami notices. Of course he does.

Without a word, he closes his book and looks at you. He doesn’t ask right away, just shifts closer, his knee now brushing against yours. The warmth of his presence is usually enough to calm you, but tonight, it only makes the weight of your insecurities heavier.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, rich, and familiar—like a steady anchor in the middle of your storm. You shake your head lightly, forcing a small smile. “It’s nothing,” you lie, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap. You don’t want to burden him with something as trivial as your insecurities. How silly would that sound?

But Nanami doesn’t let it go.

He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping your chin, tilting your face so that your eyes meet his.

His gaze is unwavering, full of concern and warmth. “Sweetheart,” he repeats, his tone firmer now, but still so gentle.

“I can see it’s not nothing. Talk to me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, the lump in your throat growing harder to swallow. You hesitate, debating whether or not to say anything at all.

But there’s no use hiding from Nanami—not when he’s looking at you like that, with so much patience and care.

“I just…” You sigh, struggling to find the right words.

“I don’t understand why you’re with me.”

His brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering across his face. You feel embarrassed now, but the words come spilling out before you can stop them.

“I mean… look at you, Kento. You’re—you could have anyone. You’re smart, handsome, perfect. And I’m just… I’m just me.” Your voice grows quieter, but the vulnerability in your tone hangs heavy in the air.

“There are so many girls out there,” you continue, feeling the weight of your insecurities settling in your chest.

“Girls who are prettier than me, girls who look like they belong next to someone like you. And I just—I feel like I’m not enough.”

Nanami’s face softens immediately, the crease in his brow replaced by a look of understanding.

He doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he shifts even closer, his hand sliding from your chin to gently hold your hand. The warmth of his palm soothes the edges of your anxiety, but the vulnerability lingers.

“Is that what’s been weighing on you?” His voice is a low murmur, thick with sincerity. He turns your hand over in his, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin.

“You think you’re not enough for me?”

You nod, trying to blink back the sting of tears. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only quiet concern, and it makes the knot in your chest tighten.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning in closer until his forehead is nearly resting against yours.

His voice is like velvet, smooth and steady, wrapping around you in warmth. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

His words catch you off guard, and you blink up at him, your breath hitching in your throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he continues, his gaze unwavering as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

“Not just on the outside, but believe me, you’re definitely beautiful on the outside too, but you have a kindness, a warmth, and a sense of strength that I admire every single day. And that’s something no one else can give me.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Do you understand? You are everything to me.”

Tears blur your vision, and you try to blink them away, but Nanami just smiles softly, squeezing your hand.

“I don’t care about anyone else. I don’t care what they look like, because no one—no one—compares to you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding as the weight of his words sinks in. He reaches up, brushing a tear away with his thumb, the tenderness in his touch making your heart swell.

“I didn’t fall in love with anyone else, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I fell in love with you, only you. And I’d do it again, a thousand times over.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in his eyes.

He pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight of your insecurities begins to lift.

“You are more than enough,” he whispers, his lips leaving a tender kiss on the top of your head. “You’re unfathomably perfect to me.”

You melt into him, your head resting against his chest, and as his heartbeat thuds steadily beneath your ear, you feel the overwhelming warmth of his love wash over you.

He gives you a little squeeze and leaves a trail of kisses all over your face while holding you in his embrace.

“My beautiful girl…”

Maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to believe him.

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