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#I’m also hungry so that isn’t helping
grapejollyrancher · 2 days
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Noise Complaints (Pt. 1 (?))
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Logan Howlett x Reader
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem! AFAB! Reader
Warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, dry humping, slight dacryphilia (only if you squint), desperate!logan, pet names, no use of y/n, knife use (not sexual, not knifeplay)
a/n: yall pls go easy on me this is my first time ever publishing a fanfic :O. if there are any errors or if i forgot to mention any warnings or triggers please LMK! constructive criticism is heavily encouraged as i mentioned this is my first fic. ALSO so sorry i am legit incapable of writing sexual tension/ buildup forgive me! Hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think :) (p.s. i have a part two drafted if anyone is interested i can edit it and post soon!)
It was a boring day at the X-Mansion…
You pass through the living room on the way to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Your eyes glance around the room and see Logan sitting on one of the armchairs with a cigar in his hand. Some random show is playing on the TV but you can tell he isn’t paying attention; his mind is somewhere else.
“Hey lo! Whatcha up to?”
He’s lost in thought, but his head snaps up when hears you. He looks up at you and gives you small smile, taking a drag from his cigar before responding.
“Just thinkin'. Nothin' important, Darlin'. What're you up to?”
You move across the room towards the entrance of the kitchen and point, your cheeks turning pink at his petname for you.
“Gonna make something to eat. You hungry?” You ask.
He stays silent for a moment, thinking about it, before nodding.
“Yeah, I could eat. What're you making?”
“Probably just a sandwich,” You shrug, “Nothin’ crazy”
He chuckles as he stands up and stretches a little, his shirt riding up slightly to show a sliver of his tanned stomach. He stubs out his cigar before nodding. Your eyes are glued to the small piece of tanned skin showing before his words snap your attention back to your task.
“Sure thing, Darlin'. Lead the way.”
You walk into the kitchen, Logan trailing behind you. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of you. You turn to him,
“Okay ill grab the stuff from the pantry if you wanna grab the stuff from the fridge?” He nods.
“Yeah, sure thing, Darlin’.”
He turns to the fridge and you turn towards the cabinets, searching for what you need when you notice the bread is on a high shelf out of reach
“Who the fuck put the bread up there?” You mutter under your breath and turn to ask Logan for help, leaning your back against the counter
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“Hey Lo? Help a girl out, would you?” You ask with a fake pout making grabby hands at the bread that’s out of reach. He chuckles as you made grabby hands at it and strain to try to reach the shelf. He closes the fridge and walks over to you.
“Sure thing, Darlin'.”
Your breath hitches as you feel him pressed against you, caging you in against the counter with one of his hands resting on the counter near your hip. Looking up at him as he hands you the bread, you realize just how much taller he is than you, how much bigger.
“T-thanks, Lo,” you stutter. He smirks as he watches you flush, his eyes tracing every part of you.
“No problem, Darlin'.” He leans down so he was right next to your ear, his voice lowering as he spoke.
“You’re just a little too small, huh?” He teases. You playfully smack his arm and roll your eyes at his teasing words, blushing slightly.
“It’s not my fault I’m not freakishly tall like you,” you tease back.
“I think it’s cute,” he smirks as he leans even closer, his body pressed right against yours, your faces only inches apart. “Perfect jus’ the way ya are, Princess'.”
You feel your face getting even redder at his compliments. Your breath gets caught in your chest as he leans impossibly closer, embarrassed knowing he can probably hear your heart hammering against your ribcage.
“Thanks, Logan.” You say averting your eyes and turning your back to him, trying to focus on what you were doing before.
You hear him chuckle softly behind you at your embarrassment. He pushes off the counter to lean back against the island a few steps away from you. You take in a shuddering breath now that he was no longer pressed up against you, trying to focus on the sandwich-in-progress on the counter in front of you. You glance back to where he’s leaning against the counter. He watches you carefully as you make your sandwich, his eyes never leaving you. He shifts his weight against the counter with his arms crossed, his muscles flexing slightly as he moves. Your eyes involuntarily widen at the sight of his arms bulging. You quickly turn back around, trying to force down the thoughts running through your mind at the sight.
Your hands shake a bit with nervousness as you try to steady your thoughts. The idea of him pressed up against you again flashes through your head and you gasp lightly. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor.
“Shit!” You yelp. You bend down to pick up the knife, still trying to steady your breathing. He immediately looks down as the knife drops to the floor, his gaze trained on you as you bent over to pick it up. He instantly tenses, his face becoming flushed almost instantly at the sight in front of him. He steps up closer behind you, his body almost completely pressed up against yours again. His voice is low as he speaks.
“Careful, hon. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.” You jump slightly at the sound of his deep voice, realizing just how close to you he was again. You straighten back up and toss the knife into the sink, giving up on making your sandwich.
“Im okay!”
He was still standing right behind you, his body pressed right up against yours. he leans down towards your ear and speaks in a low, gruff voice,
“Yer makin' me think naughty thoughts with you bendin’ over like that, Darlin’.” You suck in a breath at his words. His intoxicating scent surrounds you and you feel the stubble on his chin run against the sensitive skin of your neck
“O-oh.” You stutter, “what kind of naughty thoughts?” He smirks as you stutter at his words, his hand slowly running up the side of your hip. His hot breath ghosts across the skin of your neck and shoulder, giving you chills.
“Oh, just the things I want to do to you, Darlin'...” You whimper at his grip on your hips and his breath against your neck, leaving you breathless and wanting him. You feel his hard bulge press against your ass and moan softly at the contact
“Logan, I--“ you pant, “didn’t think you liked me like that.” He chuckles at your reaction and places a gentle kiss on the underside of your jaw, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body even tighter against yours. He hums softly,
“I've been wantin' ya for a while now, Darlin'. You’ve been drivin' me crazy since I first met ya,”
You sigh as he kisses your jaw and neck, moaning as you feel his sculpted chest and abs against your back and his bulge pressing into your ass.
“Fuck Logan- I want you,” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
Hearing you moan like that sends a shiver down his spine. He growls softly and pushes his hips against you a bit, his body yearning for you.
“Mm, is that so, princess? Sounds like someone's getting excited...” He trails off as he continues his kisses down your jawline and your neck, the stubble of his chin scratching deliciously across your sensitive skin.
You turn around in his grasp and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“You came onto me Lo… don’t blame me for getting all hot and bothered at you pressing up against me like that” He chuckles at your comment, his own arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly against him. He hums at the feel of your fingers in his hair and tilts his head back slightly.
“Can ya blame me for wanting you? You're so damn sexy like this...” His mouth goes back to your neck, slowly leaving a trail of kisses and occasionally a few hickies down your throat. You throw your head back and tug at the locks of his hair between your fingers. You groan as you feel his hands slip up under your shirt and squeeze your hips.
“F-fuck-“ you sigh. Hearing you moan and sigh at his touch sends waves of heat through him and he groans slightly. He continues to kiss and bite your neck, his hands moving up and downyour sides under your shirt, the calloused skin of his hands rough against your softer skin.
“Such a sweet little thing... I wonder how long you'll last...”
You whimper from his words and buck your hips to meet his. You place a hand under his chin to tilt him back towards your face, leaning in and slotting your lips against his. You gasp as you feel him slide his hands down your back to your ass and feel him squeeze. He slides them down further and grasps the back of your thighs firmly, lifting you up with ease so he can set you on the counter.
He groans against your lips as he feels you grind your hips against his. He eagerly returns the kiss, his lips moving in perfect sync with yours. Once he lifts you up onto the counter he immediately steps between your legs, parting them. His hands once again on your hips, holding you.
“Mmm,” he moans, “Darlin' you're gettin' me all worked up here...”
“Logan,” you whimper, head tilting back, hands still gripping his hair. You feel his bulge press against your clothed core. “Oh, there—"
His voice deep and gravelly in your ear, “Yeah, baby? Like this?”
He rolls his hips against you gently, his breath getting heavier in your ear. Your eyes roll back into your head in pleasure at the feeling of him rutting against you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.
“Holy shit—”
His breath hitches slightly at the sound of your soft moans. He grunts as he’s pulled closer, his face burying in the crook of your neck.
“S-so damn needy... Sound so pretty for me, doll.”
You’re a moaning, whimpering mess as he thrusts against you, the feeling of his body engulfing you, driving you close to the edge. He continues to grind against you, nearly losing his mind with you being so needy against him. The thin material of your shorts leaves nothing to the imagination as the friction from the rough denim against your clit sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.
“Logan,” you gasp. “So good—"
“Don't worry, Darlin'... “ He breathes back, “I've got you”
His hands start to slide up under your shirt, tracing his hands over your stomach and up towards your chest, kneading the soft skin with his large palms. You moan loudly against his shoulder, biting down to try to muffle the noises escaping you. You grip his shoulders with all your strength as your legs start to shake against him. His hands pinch and pull at your nipples and you throw your head back and a throaty groan escapes your lips at the euphoric sensation
“Logan—shit!” you whimper, “Don’t stop—” You say as he starts to slow his movements, like he was going to pull away. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he comes to a realization.
“Is this gonna get you baby? You’re a mess already and I’ve barely touched you.”
You blush at his words, his thrusts picking up speed again. The feeling of his clothed tip nudging your clit brings you closer and closer to your release. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your climax approaching. Tears well in the waterline of your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of him pleasuring you.
“Look at me doll,” he demands. You snap your head up to look at him, surely with a fucked-out expression on your face. “Look so pretty f’me darlin’. Look at you crying from my cock, feels too good, huh?”
Your eyes roll back and you whimper at his words, “God—Yes, Lo. Getting s-so close—"
He returns his lips to your neck to press wet, hot kisses over the skin again, trailing up your jawline to nip at your earlobe.
“That’s it, baby. C’mon” he encourages you as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm.
“Lo—” You whine, “Gonna come-! Don’t stop d-don’t stop, please” you whine tearfully, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails in to ground yourself.
He groans into the crook of your neck, loving the painful pleasure of your nails biting into his skin. He starts to come undone from your begging, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as he could, guiding your hips to meet his quick thrusts.
“Yeah, Darlin'... Need you to come for me. Be a good girl and let go”
He continues marking up your neck for the world to see, inhaling your sweet scent that he can’t seem to get enough of. His breathing becoming heavier and more uneven as his need for you increases.
“Logan! Feels so fucking good- oh god I’m so close—"
Hearing the sounds of you falling apart in his arms pushes him over the edge, his heaving breaths uneven and his muscles tensing from the feeling of you coming undone against him.
“Mmm, yes, Darlin'... Let go baby... Come for me, princess” he moans and licks a stripe up the shell of your ear. His deliciously large hands groping your chest and pinching your stiff peaks.
The feeling of his hands on you, all over you, send you over the edge. Your orgasm lighting you up and splitting you open from top to bottom. Your eyesight goes slightly blurry from the intensity of your release. You grip his hair and pull hard to ground yourself. You pull him towards you and crash your lips to his in a heated kiss. You could feel his thrusts become faster and shorter, knowing he was close
“Fuck princess... you're drivin' me crazy... gonna make me come—" His body trembles and his hips start to lose rhythm.
“Logan—” you pant against his ear, “Want you to come for me- please baby- need to feel you.” You press your lips to his jaw and kiss down the column of his throat, winding one of your hands in his hair to tug at it. You pull away for a second to whisper against him again
“I know you’re close Lo,” you nip at his lower lip and he whines into your mouth. “Wanna feel you. C’mon baby… let go for me Logan.”
He nearly loses it when he hears your throaty voice in his ear again, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips. He could only focus on your voice and your breath against his skin as you spoke, his control slipping more with every word. He could feel the pressure building and building almost to the breaking point, his body quivering with need and his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force.
“F-fuck Logan… so fucking good baby. Need you to come. Get it lo, come for me”
He groans loudly against your skin, barely able to think or speak as his climax rapidly approaches, all he could say was your name.
“Fuck—oh, fuck—I’m coming doll—shit!”
With one more desperate moan against your skin and a final roll of his hips against you, he completely unravels, his mind lost in a haze of lust from you. He groans your name in a low, gruff voice as he rides out his orgasm.
“So good baby… so fucking good for me Lo,” You scratch your nails against his scalp lightly to ground him, his clothed cock still throbbing against your core
Your words and the feel of your nails against his skin was the only thing he could focus on as he tried to regain his breathing and composure.
“Ah... mmm... Darlin'... You'll be the death of me...” He pants against your neck, pressing light kisses on your shoulder.
“Big words comin’ from a man who can’t die” You smirk at him teasingly. He chuckles softly at your words, taking a few more deep breaths to try to calm himself down
“Heh, Darlin', you know what I mean... You drive me crazy, gonna kill me one of these days...” he breathes.You lean into the weight of his against your neck, turning your head to place a gentle kiss against his, sliding your hands up and down his shoulders soothingly.
“I sure hope not,” You tease, “I’m gonna need you to stick around for a while now that I know what you’re capable of.” He hums softly as your hands slide across his shoulders gently gripping your hips with his hands, fingers tracing small patterns on your skin.
”Mmm, don’t you worry, Darlin'. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Good.” You sigh against his hair, “Let’s go get cleaned up honey.” You hop down from the counter as he releases your hips. You stumble slightly, legs shaky from the aftermath of your intense orgasm, and you wrap a hand around his bicep for stability.
He chuckles at your lack of balance and shaky legs, a sense of pride and satisfaction surging through his chest. He wraps his arms around you and steadies you against him.
“Easy there, princess. Looks like I did a number on ya, huh?” He gives you a cocky smirk as he holds you close against his chest. You look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“Is that all you got, Howlett?” Before he can react, you sprint out of the kitchen towards the stairs. He was caught off guard at first, his eyes widening in surprise as he watches you flee from him. He takes a moment to react, then smiles and lets out a huff in response. He could hear you laughing and the grin on his face only grew.
“Darlin'... you're playin’ a dangerous game with me right now,” He calls after you. You started giggling madly as you hear his heavy footsteps start behind you. He lets out a low chuckle as he chases after you up the stairs, slowly gaining on you as his legs were much longer than yours. You giggle and squeal as you feel his strong, muscular arms wrap around you, lifting you from the ground.
“Logan!” You shriek, as he lifts you higher to put one arm around your back and the other behind your legs, carrying you bridal style, holding you close against his solid chest.
“Heh, I gotcha now darlin’.” He ducks down to whisper huskily in your ear.
And have you he did.
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radicallyperverted · 3 days
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Your posts are so hot. At this point my trans identified cunt doesn't care if you are an irl terf or not. I need you to correctly gender me (based on my biology) either way 😵‍💫. The possibility of you being an irl terf makes this so much hotter.....
I’m a genuine radfem! Not very good at it, considering I have this blog. Radical feminism isn’t some vague club or identity, it’s a political ideology that requires actual actions in order to be valuable in my eyes. Contributing to fetishes this extreme kinda negates a lot of my opinions when it comes to being anti-kink and anti-porn.
But I am very much gender critical and have been part of radfem communities for years.
I just happen to also find trans people hot.
Tbh if you’re part of this fetish community where you are fine referring to yourself as a cunt you might as well embrace being a woman. You clearly aren’t THAT distressed over your sex if you will state your genitalia at the slightest hint of sexual approval. You are fully aware of your biology, and even fetishize that fact. It’s concerning that you view being correctly seen as female as a kink but we can work on that.
Statistically you are probably bisexual (I rarely meet anyone on this app who isn’t completely cock-hungry) but you’d probably make such a cute lesbian <3 I’d love to help you explore that aspect of yourself by rubbing your pussy against mine. If you admit you’re a woman and mean it then I’ll even let you cum.
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typingcorgi · 2 years
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and the voices that implore “you should be doing more” to you i can admit that i’m just too soft for all of it
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dandyleyen · 3 months
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yet again thinking abt how dunmeshi is helping me fix my relationship with food,,,,,,,, thank u lord for giving me a reason to enjoy food and enjoy eating and enjoy cooking so I can Normally take care of myself like a normal adult my age can
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confier-boyfriend · 3 months
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Dancing in the kitchen while eating cold pizza in a turtle neck and underwear. Everyone wants me, I fear me. In other words I’m really hot.
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digitaldiseas3 · 4 months
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these bitches are FAKE!!
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classyrbf · 2 months
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YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop
INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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TOJI
toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.
GOJO
ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.
NANAMI
nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.
GETO
geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”
CHOSO
I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.
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joelsgoldrush · 1 month
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“GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE” | 10k
logan howlett x fem!reader
part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”
"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple
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SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.
WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, age-gap (reader is 25), once again wade saves the day, domestic!logan, soft dom!logan, logan calls reader “kid”, they watch (500) days of summer, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, thigh riding, thumb sucking, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)
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A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…
Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.
You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.
It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.
“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.
“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”
Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”
“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 
“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”
His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.
There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.
“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 
“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”
You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”
Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”
“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”
“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”
Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.
As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.
All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.
Why is he about to fight a cat?
“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”
“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”
“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”
Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”
“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”
This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.
At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”
Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.
Far from dozing off, you feel alive.
It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.
Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 
Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.
“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”
“Fucking, you mean.”
“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”
His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”
“I can walk on my own.”
“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.
As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now you’re making jokes?”
“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”
Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.
You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.
Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.
“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”
“You could use a new wardrobe.”
“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”
“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.
You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”
Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”
“I think I’ve already heard that before.”
“Kid.”
You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”
He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”
“Do you have an off switch?”
“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”
“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.
“Wait. I have a game to play.”
“It’s late.”
“Please?”
He sighs. “Okay.”
“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 
“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”
“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”
“Really? You, of all people?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”
“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.
You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.
“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.
“You love having the final say, don’t you?”
“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”
“You can always get new teeth.”
“But my morning breath—”
“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”
“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.
Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”
“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.
More silence.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“What was the Great Depression like?”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”
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And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.
Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”
You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.
Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”
Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.
“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”
That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.
“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”
“Logan…”
“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”
You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.
Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”
“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”
“I could’ve done something much worse.”
“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”
“What if—”
You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 
This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.
“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.
“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”
A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.
You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.
The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.
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“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”
Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”
“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”
At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.
You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”
Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”
“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”
“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”
“I don’t.”
He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”
“I said I don’t.”
“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.
You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”
“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”
“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.
“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”
“Wade, that’s not even possible.”
“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”
“How did you pass History in high school?”
“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”
“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”
The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 
“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”
Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.
“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 
“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”
“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”
“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”
“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”
“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”
Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”
Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”
“Over a month.”
“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”
“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”
“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”
Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.
Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey, homey.”
“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”
“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”
Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”
“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”
“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“Oh, no.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”
“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”
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Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.
Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.
The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.
What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.
Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 
Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.
You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.
It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”
He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”
“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”
“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”
Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”
You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 
“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.
“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”
“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”
“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”
You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.
From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”
“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 
“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.
Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.
He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”
Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 
You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.
“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”
Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.
Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.
“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.
“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”
You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.
The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.
Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 
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It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”
Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.
You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.
Hey.
You again.
Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.
Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.
Okay.
“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.
“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.
Sure.
What’s that?
Why not?
Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.
We— we’ll figure it out.
We’ll figure it out.
“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.
My name’s Tom.
Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.
When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”
Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”
“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”
“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”
You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”
“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.
Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.
“Logan, they weren’t even official.”
“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.
“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”
His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”
Lord have mercy.
“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.
He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”
“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”
The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”
“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.
“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”
He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”
“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “
“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.
“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”
For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:
“You are the most exasperating person I know.”
“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”
“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”
You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.
“Drop it, kid.”
“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”
Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”
You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”
Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”
“Fine with me.”
“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”
Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”
That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 
He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”
You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.
A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”
Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..
“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”
You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.
“Will you—can you—”
“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”
God, you love it when he’s mean.
“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”
The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”
He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”
You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.
Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”
In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”
“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”
“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”
“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”
“Bub.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”
Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”
“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”
“Negative, Sergeant.”
“You don’t have any?”
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”
The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”
Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”
Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”
“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”
“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”
“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”
“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”
“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 
Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.
“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”
“Inside.”
“What?”
“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”
“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”
“Logan?”
“Tell me, bub.”
“Knock, knock.”
He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”
“Ice cream.”
“Ice cream who?”
“Ice cream for you all night long.”
“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”
This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.
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dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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tvrningout-a · 1 year
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thinking about the possibility that rin is technically a mage now and doesn’t realize it and i’m gonna think about it some more when i come to write a different headcanon about her “blessing”
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sparky-is-spiders · 1 year
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Letting my precanon jongertrude au cook, turning it over and over in my head. I’m so weak for the idea of archival assistant Jon, all alone with his boss who is deciding whether or not he needs to be killed to stop Elias. Who isolates Jon further by overworking him deliberately, who recognizes that Elias is planning something, wants to see how this new assistant fits into that. Who glares at him with disdain but gives just enough scraps of praise to keep him in line and seeking validation from her. I’m so worried its OOC but I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m obsessed. I’m turning it over and over in my mind.
#the conciet of this au is that gertrude has determined that jon is somehow important to elias’ future plans but isn’t sure how#and she needs to make sure he’d be difficult to replace and that she could get away with it#(doesn’t want to give elias the excuse to get rid of her + doesn’t want to deal with the conplications of murdering jon if someone else#will just take his place the next day#+ can maybe use him to /look/ like she’s taking active steps to stop the dark’s ritual and distract elias from her theories and plans?)#it’s all somewhat concoluted and possibly ooc#but I’m so hungry for content where morally questionable individuals manipulate jon#also very much enjoy it when jon has a bad tume and I feel like there’s so much potential for isolation and misery here#I’m soso hungry for that shit#but anyway yeah I want gertrude to decide that the best way to deal with jon is to put a leash on him (possibly literally)#and keep him where he can be monitered#drawn away from elias#and neutralized if needed#anyway:#jongertrude#gertrudejon#doing a relisten to the podcast and might go through gertrude’s page on the wiki#maybe that will help me flesh out this idea more#I’m bot maintagging my illness#*not#except for the jongertrude tag whoch nobody else uses anyway#also also forgot to mention but je is also a potential ending for this au#(so is jon dying#jon dating gertrude into perpetuity#and jon running away with gerry (when I’m feeling like being very nice to him anyway)#)#jonshipping
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innerfare · 1 month
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Going Down On You - Part 1 
Summary: how they go down on you
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid
Genre: pure smut
CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Kid is a little mean
——— 
Luffy: 
As soon as the two of you are alone, he’s pushing your legs apart. Often times, he doesn’t even take your clothes off, just pushes what he can to the side and buries his face in your pussy. He eats you out like an all you can eat buffet and comes back for multiple rounds. 
He slurps so loud- comically loud. 
“So tasty,” he’ll mutter. “I could eat this for hours.” Sometimes he does. He doesn’t stop when you cum, he stops when he’s had his fill, no matter what time it is. 
Sometimes, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night ravenous. If you’re wearing panties, he rips them off, so you’ve learned to sleep naked. Half asleep, he’ll bury his face between your legs until he’s had his fill, lapping tiredly at your folds, humming and groaning while he does it. If you try to squirm or get away, he gets super annoyed.
“Stop it,” he grumbles in that slight raspy voice of his, lips glistening with your juices. “I don’t care if you’re tired, I’m hungry.” 
What Luffy wants, Luffy gets. 
If the two of you were stranded on an island together, he probably wouldn’t even hunt for food. He’d just strip you down on the beach and pin you with his face between your legs until the two of you were rescued. At times, he even prefers eating you out to fucking you. 
Zoro: 
When he’s hungry, he won’t ask. He’ll just pry your legs apart and go to town as casually as making a cup of tea, though he does it with such fervor you think he must be an addict. 
He usually drags you on top of him and makes you sit on his face so he can lap at your folds at his leisure. He prefers to sit with his hands behind his back while he does it, as if he’s a king and you’re servicing him by letting him tongue your poor, aching cunt (you are), but if you’re being naughty, he’ll wrap those massive hands around your thighs and hold you in place. He also gets super annoyed if you squeal or squirm. 
“Quiet, woman,” he’ll tell you, furrowing his brows. “You’re distracting me.” 
He likes to spread your lips apart and take a good look at you first. He’ll bury his face in your folds and inhale as deeply as he can several times, taking his sweet time before he begins poking and prodding. He’ll mutter to himself as he does it. 
“Mmm, that’s good. Yeah, just like that. That’s a sweet pussy. So sensitive. I bet I can make it cream.” 
He’ll stop in the middle of what he’s doing to place some warm, lingering kisses on your folds before ramming his tongue back inside you. Really loves spitting in your hole and pushing it in deeper with his fingers. Will literally drool in your cunt because he enjoys seeing it spill out. 
Sanji: 
Literally so loud when he does it, makes the most over the top, dramatic noises, moaning as if you’re sucking him off. He especially loves to suck on your labia (no hate to innies but he definitely prefers outies, if you know what I mean). This man would carry a picture of your wet pussy around in his wallet if you let him. He takes the opportunity to taste you very seriously, a little too seriously. Has spent so much time perfecting his technique it’s unreal. 
He’s so sweet about it, too, and so grateful. 
“My precious babygirl, thank you so much for letting me taste this sweet pussy.” 
Such a giver he would happily give up his own pleasure for yours, but that doesn’t mean 69-ing isn’t his absolute favorite thing in the entire world. He especially likes it when he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard, your ass in the air and your face buried down in his lap (helps with the height difference, too). He’ll hold you open and massage your ass while he laps at your folds. 
Always wants to finger you in this position but can’t bring himself to do it, doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your juices; also just can’t keep his face out of your cunt long enough to manage. If hickies on your clit were possible, yours would be covered constantly. He also wants to eat his cum out of you after you two fuck.
Ace: 
All of those manners he worked so hard to learn go right out the window when he gets your panties off and his face between your legs. Is especially obsessed with the smell of you; as soon as he catches the scent, he’s on you like a beast. He wants it all over his face and hands. He wants to fall into bed and smell you on his sheets and pillows. 
“The best smell in the fucking world,” he’ll groan, dragging his nose up your slit. 
His favorite is to put you on your back and push your bottom half up so your bare cunt is high in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to eat at his leisure. He’ll put his big, strong hands behind your knees and hold your legs in an impossible position while he buries his face in your juicy cunt, the knowledge it’s all his enough to make him hard. 
“Fucking delicious. And it’s all fucking mine.” 
Like his brother, he has quite the appetite, but unlike Luffy, he’s never just content to devour you. He’ll lap at your folds until you’re overstimulated, and then he’ll pull out his thick, veiny cock. He’ll shush you as he pushes it into your quivering cunt and fuck you until he’s as spent as you are, and then he’ll fuck you a little more.   
Sabo: 
Another ravenous appetite. Sabo is so messy when he eats you out. He’ll have your juices and his saliva running down his chin and smeared all over his cheeks. He’s even gotten it in his hair before. He doesn’t care, though. When he gets his face between your legs, he gets pussy drunk and completely spaces out. Time stands still, and the only thing that matters is pushing his tongue into your quivering little hole. 
It’s his favorite way to wind down after a long day, and if he’s been away on a mission, he’ll most certainly return with a new mission: to suck your soul out through your clit.  
He’s especially good with his tongue. He’ll stuff it into your hole and massage your most sensitive areas, working it in and out of you while his thumb kneads your sensitive clit. He likes to change positions a lot, putting you on your back then flipping you on all fours before dragging you down to sit on his face, and he’ll have a wicked grin on his face the entire time. The most important thing is that your fingers are tangled in his hair while he works. 
His possessive side really comes out while he’s going down on you. With Sabo, there’s no such thing as your pussy, only his pussy. He'll spit on your folds and leave hickies on your inner thighs to mark you as his.
“Nobody else gets to taste you. Not now, not ever.” 
Law: 
Most definitely uses it as a punishment. He’ll chastise you while he fingers you slowly, his lips mere inches from your leaking cunt. He’ll scold you for being so wet for him or for whining/being impatient. 
"Poor thing, you're aching for it."
When he does finally go down, he’s meticulous about it, tonguing every crevice and licking up every last drop. He’ll make you hold your own legs up and wide open so he can have easier access, and so he can busy his own hands with your breasts. 
On the occasions he does let you lower your legs, he really enjoys your fingers in his hair and your feet resting on his back. Especially likes it when you use your feet to push him away so he can wrestle with you a little; he pulls rank, too, telling you that you have to listen because he’s your captain or a doctor. 
“Y/n-ah, stay still. Doctor’s orders.” 
He’s a spanker and if you get too loud, his hand will come down on your breasts or ass until you grab a pillow to muffle your cries, never mind that the sound of him spanking you is louder than your moans. Also, he has a habit of falling into bed at 2am and waking you up with his head between your legs. 
Kid: 
Prefers to eat you out from behind. There’s no division between eating ass and eating pussy as far as this man is concerned, either. He does both or neither, and putting you on all fours or bending you over something is the easiest way for him to get what he wants. 
He’s so mean about it, too. “Poor little thing. You can’t function properly until you’ve been tongue fucked by your man, can you?” 
He’ll chew your nipples raw and snap at you to stop whining about it, you brat. He’ll pull back to spit directly onto your folds, doing it quite loudly because he knows it embarrasses you and makes your hole clench, you adorable fuck bunny. He’ll flick your clit and laugh when you squeal, and he’ll make fun of you when you cum, you needy slut. If you cream or squirt, you’ll never live it down, you pathetic whore. He’ll hold it over your head, but don’t take that to mean he doesn’t like it- he’s obsessed with your cream. 
He’ll spank you, but he prefers to bite. Your ass will be covered in bite marks and hickeys before he ever plunges his tongue into one of your holes. He’s feral when he does, growling and grunting the entire time. And when he’s finished, he’ll place a few sweet kisses on your cunt and ass, give you a light spank, and tell you to get yourself cleaned up. Unless, of course, he wants to fuck you after, in which case you’re in for a long night. If he eats his cum out of you, he'll most definitely be fucking another load into you.
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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planetaryupscaled · 2 months
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Forbidden Desire
Male x Chaewon x Kim Minjeong (Winter)
Tags: 4k, taboo, oral, breeding, threesome, tw
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“Daddy,” Minjeong said, sweet as ever, “Chaewon is a slut.”
“Noo Daddy!” Chaewon complained, “Minjeong is a liar and a sl-”
“Shush! You’re both bad little sluts who have disturbed my sleep, and did I hear something about a boyfriend?” He slapped his hands under their skirts and gripped their tight asses, both sisters squirmed hard.
“He’s nobody, Daddy. Just... a cute boy from school.”
“Liar,” Chaewon smirked, “She’s trying to get pregnant!”
“Preg- shut up! You were trying the same thing!”
“I’m not gonna let you be the first one, like always!”
The sisters shared a remarkable amount of things, but they constantly fought over who got what. They were old enough to no longer be bent over his knee, yet still fought like children.
But he found a different way to get his cock-hungry daughters to play nice.
“You both know the rules: No boyfriends until you have your own place,” he said. Chaewon and Minjeong’s eyes lit up, though cautious. They had been very naughty after all.
“Are you mad, Daddy?” Minjeong asked. “I just... couldn’t wait to be… a mother.”
“Me neither,” Chaewon whined. He could already feel his daughters’ need to moisten their panties. The same went for her sister. Both were hungry for cock, and more than just a good fucking. He shook his head and began to unclasp his belt.
Daddy’s horny girls needed some lesson.
“You’re both being very bad girls,” he said, dropping his belt on the ground beside his chair and unzipping his jeans. “Getting a boyfriend and not even sharing him like good sisters should...”
“We’re sorry!” the girls said in unison. They were staring at his lap as he fished his cock out of his boxers.
“Not enough girls. You also interrupted my sleep. So, you two will have to make me feel better about that.”
“Yes Daddy!” Chaewon was the fastest to drop to her knees and kiss the head of his cock. Minjeong was close behind, scowling as her sister’s lips wrapped around her father’s cockhead.
“Tch, greedy slut...” she mumbled, edging her way beneath her sister to kiss her father’s balls.
“Mwah! That’s right, Daddy’s mine, just like your boy- unngh” He pulled Chaewon hard, bulging her overfilled throat out with every inch of his cock.
“Enough bitching,” he growled before letting go of his mischievous daughter.
“D-Daddy, that’s mean,” The girl coughed and sputtered despite the big smile on her face.
“That’s right, Daddy can be mean. Now girls,” He wrapped his hands around both of their necks and drew them in until their noses touched either side of his cock. “You’ll both share Daddy’s cock and be nice to each other. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy...” They said in unison.
“Good. Now kiss it,” His pressed their lips against either side of his stiffened cock. Neither of his girls resisted. They worked his shaft immediately, their soft mouths kissing and licking either edge of their father’s twitching cock. Their matching hair framed their faces, both close-eyed and revelling in the taste of the thing that helped make them years ago. And as they both rose to the mushroomed head their lips connected and their tongue wrestled around it.
“Good girls...” He petted their gently bobbing heads. The animosity between them initially fueled their almost violent kissing, as if battling to get more of his cock into them.
However, the mirror-match quickly devolved into a sweet, lustful make-out session that only loving sisters could appreciate. Their little mewls, smacking lips, and roving tongues turned on their father with ferocity.
“Mmm, isn’t that how you two should always be?”
The girls cast their azure eyes up at him and nodded without pausing their ministrations. They kissed while their father’s cock glazed their mouths with spurts of precum that drooled down their chins. It slopped down to their low-cut tops and clung fast to them in sticky strings.
They were almost messy enough to coax the cum out of his balls right there. But he couldn’t let that happen just yet. Reluctant to end their harmonious dick-worship, he peeled his gasping daughters away.
“Feeling better?” he asked. His girls nodded, their meek smiles and chins dripping with familial juices.
“Daddy, I’m horny... I want a baby,” Minjeong confessed.
“Me too,” Chaewon added, “Will you let Minjeong’s boyfriend knock us up now?”
“No,” He replied. Before his crestfallen angels could even whine, he scooped them up under each arm. They squealed and squirmed as he carried them off to his bedroom where he’d taken them many times before.
They weren’t even trying to get away, not even when he tossed nymphs onto his bedsheets and tore open the fronts of their blouses.
“No boyfriends, you bad little girls.”
“But Daddy…” Minjeong scowled as her nubile tits bobbled free in the air.
“No ‘buts’ about it, from you either,” He shot a look at his other pouting daughter.
“But I want a baby Daddy...” Chaewon said. “Why won’t you let us make you grandkids already?”
“Because Daddy doesn’t want grandkids,” he said, planting his hands on their flat bellies. “Daddy want’s more daughters from his bad little girls. Understand?”
They did, and simultaneously stripped their soaking panties from their fertile hips and flipped their mini-skirts up over their exposed bellies. They knew the drill, but this time their hips almost shivered with excitement. Throwing his clothes next to his girls’, he dragged them down the bed until their legs dangled over the edge.
“Daddy, I want to have your baby first!” Minjeong spread her thighs wide.
“No, Daddy! Knock me up first!” Chaewon bucked her hips and spread even wider.
“Hey, you’re the one who-”
“Shhh…” He grabbed both girls and sank his fingers into their wet holes. Both almost sucked him in all the way to his knuckles — their almost identical pussies are desperate for incestuous satisfaction. Despite their squirming and moaning, he began to pump them.
Minjeong gripped her bare chest right beneath her breasts, her crossed arms squishing her tender tits together into such an inviting cleavage. Her tight pink nipples perked up, tightened by the cool air, and popped easily into her Daddy’s hungry mouth.
“Ooh Daddy...” Minjeong mewled. “Daddy’s sucking them...”
“Get used to it,” He said, lathering his girl’s perky tits with his tongue, “My babies are always hungry for these little things.”
“Daddy,” Chaewon said in a sing song voice, pressing her tits against her sister, “I need to get used to it too!”
“Yes you do,” He said, leaving his first daughter’s tits shimmering with his lavish spittle before doing the same on his second. Chaewon squirmed and moaned, a little louder than Minjeong. But that didn’t last long. He curled his fingers inside her pussy till her whines melted away into a lewd moan, one that was matched by her sister when he gave her tit a little bite.
“Daddy! Babies don’t bite,” Chaewon said.
“Well, I do,” he raked her other nipple with his teeth. That set her pussy ablaze, squirming and crushing in around his far-reaching fingers. The sisters bucked their hips in tandem against their father’s palm, firing up their fertile cores till they simply couldn’t be ignored.
“Mmmph,” Minjeong bucked helplessly against her father’s hand, “Daddy, you’re so deep...”
“Yeah? I don’t think its deep enough,” he said. The slurping of his fingers escaping her pussy was quickly drowned by her deep moan, a moan muffled by his fingers dripping with her own juices. Their beautiful eyes glued onto him as he lined his erection up with Minjeong’s tightness.
“Daddy...” Minjeong bit her lower lip, “We’re ovulating today...”
“Daddy knows,” he said as he sank his cock into Minjeong’s bare pussy. The girl moaned and arched her back into the pillows while her envious sister watched. Chaewon’s inner walls clasped tight around his fingers, mimicking the way Minjeong’s love tunnel rippled around his cock. They were sisters after all.
The headboard began thumping against the wall. He wasted no time in thrusting his dick deep into his virginally tight daughter. Just the same, Minjeong huffed and whined as her tiny teen pussy got stretched out. The air began to fill with the smucking sounds of sisters’ slits being filled and unfilled, harder and faster.
“Ooh daddy… you’re so big and — umph!”
“Bigger than her boyfriend,” Chaewon added, rubbing her own pussy besides her father’s hand and watching her sister’s slit getting stuffed. “It’s not fair... I can take daddy’s cock better...”
“Oh can you?” he groaned and pulled out of his writhing Minjeong with a slurp. The sad little whine on the left was quickly drowned out by the lewd yowl from the right. Chaewon braced herself half against the bed and half against her sister.
“Ah! D-daddy, go slow...” she begge, but he shook his head.
“Your sister lubed me up nicely,” he said, slapping his juisce dripping cock against Chaewon’s hesitant slit. “So you’re going to take Daddy all at once honey…”
“But Daddy I’m…”
“Daddy’s slut,” he growled and shoved himself in deep. Chaewon howled and squeezed her sister tight, shaking as her body struggled to take him in all the way. Unable to resist her father’s strength and lust. He grinned alongside Minjeong as they watched the once-spirited girl lose her confidence and composure.
“Thank your sister for all that slippery cum, honey.” he said, pounding Chaewon forbidden tight hole with hard thrust of his hips.
“Th-thank you…ohh!” Chaewon managed as her entire petite frame jilted with each fall of his hips. The father turned to his other girl, her legs still spread, showing off her own creaming pussy.
“Hear that Minjeong? Now give your nice sister a kiss...” his cock throbbed as Minjeong nodded, the blush on her cheeks matching her sister’s. Chaewon’s moans disappeared into her sister’s soft lips, the light smacks and suckling sounds nearly pushed him over the edge.
“OH! Daddy… your cock slipped out,” Chaewon whined.
“Mmm, my turn again,” Minjeong raised her leg like a bunny in heat, draping it over her still-whining sister.
“No… Daddy fucked you longer. I want more!”
“You aren’t as good a fuck as me. How do you think I got a boyfriend, huh?”
“You stole my last —”
“That’s enough,” Robert grabbed Minjeong and yanked his teasing slut daughter over her sister. Belly to belly, his girls smooshed together as he pressed their waggling hips together. Both girls squealed and writhed, their sweaty skin gleaming as their legs framed their pussies, ready for their Daddy to use.
“You’ve both been very bad girls,” he said, slapping his cock first against Minjeong’s slit before doing the same to Chaewon’s below. “If you don’t play nice with each other, you won’t get any of me tonight.”
“No, please!” Chaewon moaned.
“Daddy! We’ll be good, we promise!” Minjeong added. Both voices shivered with desperation, their bodies left stranded halfway to climax. Now their vulnerable pussies sopped with need. Minjeong’s pink slit drooled onto her sister’s as he thrust his cock between their slippery mounds and sensitive clits.
“Good, now be good sisters while Daddy fucks you...”
Their hair tangled together, dampened already by the heat of one another, and their unprotected pussies yielded nicely to the thrusts of their father’s cock. He couldn’t remember a time when his daughters were so quiet together, with only the little smooches and whines coming from their lips. They wouldn’t stay quiet for long.
“That feels so good, Daddy...” Minjeong moaned.
“Put it in me — I mean us, Daddy!” Chaewon begged.
He couldn’t agree more. The edge of his shaft grazed both girls back and forth until their waggling, humping hips threatened to crush his cock in the frothy mess he made between them. Both of their gaping holes were so inviting, but it was Minjeong who got it first.
“D-Daddy — oh fuck!” she stammered, her girlish hole struggling to accommodate her father’s manly girth. Minjeong’s fingers gripped her sister’s tits as she lifted back to look behind her, but he grabbed the curious daughter’s hair with a firm grip.
“Keep your eyes on your sister,” he commanded as he pumping her love hole with a steady pace. “Tell her what Daddy’s doing to you.”
“Nghh okay Daddy... umph, ahh... Daddy’s filling me up so much sis...”
“Yeah… I can feel his balls hitting my clit,” Chaewon gulped between her huffing breaths. “And Daddy’s cock, it’s... it’s bulging your belly, I can feel it against mine. Ughh, its sliding so far up, and then back down and...”
He pressed his cock back into Chaewon, spearing into the moaning daughter with his cock dripping with her sister’s juices. He shoved two fingers back into his mewling girl on top, keeping her tightness stretched for when he would come to fuck her again.
“I feel it too, Chaewon! He’s fingering me. Daddy’s fingering me! Oh my god, your belly sis! Come on, Dad! Put it back in—Mmm…”
Minjeong was getting fuck-drunk, and so was Chaewon. Both huffed and panted like bunnies in heat. Because they were desperate to be bred, and their father was determined to fill his sweet girls.
He went back and forth, filling his girls. While pounding into Minjeong, his balls slammed into Chaewon’s quivering pussy lips. When he rutted into Chaewon, he kneaded Minjeong’s petite ass. Sisters’ legs entwined and grappled back around their father’s jutting hips, bringing him closer and closer as their ecstasy increased. It was Chaewon who began to tense up first.
“Daddy, I’m... I’m getting close.”
“Me too. I’m going to cum on your cock daddy…”
Minjeong tensed up with her sister, the two hugging each other tight and kissing each other in blind passion. It didn’t matter that they missed half the time, kissing the cheek, chin, and nose. Their eyes were rolling back in their heads, their minds racing through the clouds to the pounding rhythm of the headboard slamming againts the wall.
“That’s it, cum for daddy girls…” He bore down, pressing them both into the bed and watching their blushing faces mewl and moan beside one another.
“Cum hard so that Daddy’s sperm can produces some pretty babies in you both.”
“Oh Daddy… give me a baby!” Minjeong wailed.
“Knock me up, Daddy!” Chaewon screamed.
And he did exactly that. With a roar, he gripped their fertile hips tightly and buried his spurting cock inside Minjeong. Ropes of potent spurt were blasted into his topmost daughter’s pussy, splattering the teen’s fertile womb with incestuous babymakers. The heat of his gooey load set her off like an overdrawn bow.
“He-he’s cumming inside me!!” Minjeong screamed, her pussy collapsing into orgasmic pulses. The senseless girl writhed on top of her sister, clawing, kissing, and hugging her tightly. He wasn’t done, though. Despite the death-grip pull of Minjeong tight pussy, it couldn’t stop him from yanking free and plunging right into Chaewon’s quivering hole in time to shoot inside her as well.
“D-Daddy’s cum is — ughh!” Chaewon couldn’t say anymore as she arched up hard enough to hoist her sister with her bucking. Thick shots of her father’s cum hit her unprotected cervix. Millions of swimmers slammed into her innermost places, the same ones that had made them years ago.
Another healthy globs shot up inside her before he pulled away from his daughter’s wild sex. Jerking himself off with their juice lubricating his cock, He glazed their pussies with the last spurts of his fatherly cum. His girls, sweaty and gasping with their mutual ecstasy, moaned and humped their Daddy’s cum with their rubbing pussies until his incestuous seed stringed and frothed between them.
“Daddy’s cum... It’s so hot” Minjeong sighed.
“Yeah...” Chaewon simply cooed in agreement and pressed her freshly fucked pussy against her sister’s. He caught his breath, his loins still pulsing with satisfied need, and dripped it onto his girls.
“Are you going to be good girls for me now?”
“Yes Daddy,” Minjeong said. “No more boyfriends. Just Daddy.”
“We’re full of Daddy’s babies anyhow!” Chaewon added, sending a giggle through both girls.
“Good...” He sighed.
“But Daddy...” Chaewon pouted and looked up at her father while touching her red rose messy slit. “You came more in Minjeong. I felt it!”
“No! He fucked you longer,” Minjeong replied, “I’ll still have his baby first.”
“No way! I’m going to have twins from Daddy’s extra-fucking!”
“Wahh? Daddy! It isn’t fair! Fuck me till I have twins too!”
“Bad girls,” he growled, unable to hide his smile as he flipped his girls over so Chaewon came out on top. “Daddy’s going to fill you both so full of babies you’ll be grounded for nine months!”
The sisters squealed with delight, waggling their ripe hips at him as the same cum that made them leaked from their fertile cunt.
Both were already going to get knocked up, probably with twins of their own, and the father knew he was just exponentially exacerbating his problems.
But that didn’t stop him from slapping his hardening cock back against their naughty little pussies. He had to be a good Daddy after all.
1K notes · View notes
mrkis · 1 year
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nct dream reaction :: getting horny unintentionally
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𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚YES〛/ 〚𝗡𝗢✗〛 ⟶ requests are closed.
AUTHORS NOTE. was talking abt this with @haechrry a while back and i almost passed away so i had to write it. also, a biiiiiig thank you to @dollyji who helped give ideas for chenle and jisungs (mwah). also again this isn’t proofread it’s currently 5am so if you notice any mistakes, no you don’t <3
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. . . 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞
mark always has his hand on resting on your thigh, both intentional and unintentional. you learnt over time that this specific form of physical touch comforted him, made him feel at ease, grounded him whenever he was stuck in his own head. the touch comforted you too and you didn't have any problem with it, but it was the strokes of his fingers and the grabbing of your flesh that turned a sweet moment into a moment of want and need. you wanted nothing more than to grip his hand and shove it in between your thighs to where you yearned for him the most.
you're stuck in one of those moments, eyeing his hand that rests on your thigh, watching his fingers drum against your skin as he hums a tune under his breath all while staring down at his phone in his other hand. he has no idea what he's doing to you.
"what are you looking at?" he suddenly asks you and your head snaps up to meet his eyes, noticing that he's staring at with you an unreadable glint. "what's up?"
"nothing" you shake your head, but you press your lips together with a deep exhale as you start to feel mark's fingers knead into your skin. "do you know what you're doing?"
"no?" he frowns before his attention dart down to his hand, realisation creeping over him. "oh" he gives you a boyish grin, something you immediately want to kiss off of his face. "i didn't know me doing something so simple turned you on so much"
"everything you do turns me on"
"i can do something about that, if you want?" mark suggests as he shuts off his phone and places it down, turning to face you fully as he leans in close, "just open your legs a little wider for me, baby"
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. . . 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡
he’s just standing there. he’s just standing half naked with a towel hanging loosely off of his hips as he rummages through your drawers to look for his sleepwear. yet there’s something about him standing half naked in your room that has your mind running wild.
the imprint of his cock pressing against the material of the towel has your mouth watering, the water droplets that slide down his chest does nothing to help calm your feral thoughts and you can almost feel yourself beginning to drool when his body turns to face you, throwing a clean shirt and boxers down on the bed.
you watch with hungry eyes as he tugs the towel off his hips, letting it fall to the ground as he reaches for his boxers to put them on but your quicker, leaping over the bed covers to snatch them up, causing him to make a noise of surprise as he looks at you with wide eyes.
“i need to get dressed” he chuckles when he sees you hold the item close to your chest. “baby, come on…”
“i don’t think you’ll be needing them” you say truthfully and you see a smile start to form on his lips.
“and why’s that?”
“because i’m going to suck your cock” you tell him, noticing how his cock twitches at your words. “and then you’re going to fuck me. after that, we’ll shower together to not waste water… and maybe we’ll go for round two”
“yeah? is that right?” he asks you and you nod immediately. “alright. get on your knees for me then and suck me off so i can fuck you good”
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. . . 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢
it's supposed to be a romantic date night with you and jeno, enjoying the midnight sky after a hefty meal and a few drinks, wrapped up in each others arms as you enjoy your alone time together.
but the situation you're in doesn't feel romantic in the slightest, in fact you're feeling a little hot and aroused being pressed up against a railing with jeno standing behind you, chin resting on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle, his body flush against yours as he takes in the scenery.
you can feel him, all of him. his cock pressing between your ass cheeks which is covered by a flimsy skirt and every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caging you between him and the railing.
your pussy aches for him, desperate to flip up your skirt and push your underwear to the side to have him so easily slide into you and fuck you right here in public, for anyone to see, but you know that's not going to happen.
"this is supposed to be a romantic date night yet you're grinding your ass against my cock like a bitch in heat" you hear him murmur into your ears and you mewl softly, doing nothing to stop your actions as you continue pushing back into him and he grips your hips tight, hissing through his teeth. "keep going and i'll bend you over this railing, let the whole city hear you scream my name"
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. . . 𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡
the position of haechan laying between your thighs, head resting on your belly as he watches something on his phones screen has you feeling weak in the knees. his breath fans against your skin, his hair tickles you every time he moves, the light pecks he gives you randomly has you squeezing your thighs around his shoulders.
he coos, taking it as a sign of you hugging him and he stokes you, delicate fingers tracing shapes on your skin, not realising the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal, feeling uncomfortably sticky on your folds.
you try to manoeuvre around to get some friction, to feel anything that could satisfy the need for him and the way he slowly turns his head to look at you could almost be deemed as comical if it wasn’t for his darkened gaze.
“i know what you’re doing” he says, completely disregarding his phone as it drops to the bed sheets. “i know me laying between your legs like this is turning you on. Do you think you’re sneaky?”
you cant help but scoff, “You knew yet you didn’t do anything about it?”
“just wanted to see if you’d beg me” he states nonchalantly, pressing his hands on your thighs to spread them apart further, smirking as he sees the damp patch on your shorts. “do it, baby. beg me”
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. . . 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡
“fuck, why is this so hard?” you hear jaemin curse under his breath from the kitchen and your brows pull together at the sound, peering your head around the doorframe to see your shirtless boyfriend staring down at a recipe on the countertop, palms flat against the surface and muscles bulging as he leans in to take a closer look.
he grumbles and curses again, mumbling something about the ingredients as he runs his fingers through his hair and let’s put a frustrated sigh, craning his neck back to reveal his adams apple.
the sight, undoubtedly, is arousing. seeing jaemin so worked up and cursing over something so simple has you feeling a little hot and bothered, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him roll his shoulders back with a grunt and he goes to turn, seemingly heading towards the cabinets but stops in his tracks as he sees you, leaning against the doorframe with a familiar glint in your eyes.
“how long have you been standing there?”
“long enough” you answer, clearly checking him out as your eyes roam over his chest and down to his vline where the rest his hidden by a pair of sweatpants that hang from his hips. “what are you doing?”
“was hungry, tried following a new recipe” he explains to you with a grin, drumming his fingers against the countertop as he looks at you, gaze turning sultry. “although if you come over here and sit your pretty little ass down in front of me, i may be hungry for something else”
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. . . 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘
“did you see that? that was such bullshit… what the fuck? how can someone be so dumb? so clueless? i swear, they do this shit on purpose. stupid fucking idiots—”
you’re salivating at the mouth hearing chenle curse out the players on the tv screen, too engrossed in the game to notice how much of an effect his rant seems to have on you.
chenle getting riled up over anything and everything is definitely one of your favourite versions of him, seeing the annoyance and anger swimming in his irises, face red and teeth grit together. he doesn’t get riled up at you per se, it’s at everything else that pisses him off. (even though sometimes, you do wish it was you, hence why you always act like a brat in the bedroom).
eyeing him up, seeing how his jaw clenches makes you want to push at his shoulders to lay him down flat and smother his face more than ever, and with his fists clenching at his sides makes you yearn for him to manhandle you in his grip and have you in any way he prefers.
but it was him clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and poking at his cheek in frustration that makes you snap, hands gripping his shoulders and laying him back against the sofa cushions, climbing onto his lap and tugging his belt through the loops of his jeans.
“really? that easy?” he chides you, brow raising as if to say he was in disbelief. but with how he’s growing harder beneath your palm, you know he’s feeling the exact same way as you. “come on then, princess. sit on my face while i fuck your mouth”
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. . . 𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚
you’re supposed to be finishing up the latest episode of a tv show, promising to get it over and done with to spill your thoughts and theories with your bestie over text. but you struggle to complete the task when you can see jisung in the corner of your eye fiddle with his hands, twisting the rings that he’s wearing around his fingers and pressing down on his knuckles to crack them all while whispering lowly beneath his breath—lyrics of a song that sounds a little suggestive due to his tone.
you try to not take any more notice but you find yourself in a difficult position with him leaning against you and hearing the whispers so clearly in your ear and the movements of his fingers. you fidget in your seat, clearing your throat as you try to collect your thoughts all while the arousal builds, pussy clenching around nothing as you squeeze your thighs together.
“why’d you keep moving so much?” jisung suddenly asks you and you freeze, almost feeling a little silly at being caught.
“you’re distracting me”
he cocks his head to the side innocently, “i am?”
“yes” you nod. “i can hear you whispering the lyrics to that song and playing with your fingers… it’s distracting”
“is it?” jisung asks again this time, but his voice is low and sultry, causing you to turn to look at him in surprise as he smiles at you. “want me to whisper how much i want to fuck you in your ear while i finger you? i can do that if you want”
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©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦
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slut4jeon · 7 months
Text
Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)
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Officer!Jk x fem reader
Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were
Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!
I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.
-
You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.
You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.
The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.
That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.
Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.
Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.
The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.
"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.
"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.
"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.
As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.
The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.
"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told
You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.
"Walk along that yellow line"
"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted
"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said
Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.
What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.
Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.
"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.
Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.
As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.
You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.
You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.
His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.
He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.
Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.
"Please” you voiced out quietly
How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.
With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.
"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said
You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.
He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.
You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.
He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.
You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.
"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?
Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said
"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.
Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.
You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.
The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.
"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.
He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.
Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.
"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.
"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.
You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.
"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.
"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.
"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.
You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.
His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.
"Sir, i-it's too much!"
"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”
His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.
The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”
- end
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Text
New dad Astarion who is about to see his newborn child for the first time.
Of course, he expects his child to be the personification of serene beauty and divine grace. Them to have their father’s silken silvern locks, his immaculately chiselled features—the artwork perfected by Tav’s wonderful watercolour eyes…
And then he actually sees the child and—well—everybody assures him that, yes, Astarion, all babies look like that barely a half hour after birth…
He kind of has to take that at face value because he hasn’t seen an awful lot of newborns in his lifetime.
But it would’ve been nice if someone had told him that newborns happen to look like shrivelled potatoes, because he’s really, really trying to not let his bewilderment show. 
Astarion swallows. 
Tav’s beautiful eyes are watching him, waiting for a reaction—an enthusiastic one, no less. 
Maybe Tav will believe that he’s overcome with emotions at seeing his firstborn child? 
“Oh my, darling, I’m…speechless,” is all he can choke out, though, being rather proud that it’s at least not a lie. 
To his luck, Tav only nods dreamily, her full attention back on the odd little bundle in her arms.
“Isn’t she perfect?”
Yes, perfectly hideous. 
Astarion only hums in a way of reply.
That—his daughter, he supposes—is with no doubt one of the ugliest things he’s ever seen, but he has a feeling that his honesty wouldn’t be appreciated after Tav laboured for hours to give birth to this…potato-baby.
“Come, hold her, Astarion,” Tav says, then, bidding him to sit next to her on the bed.
The mattress shifts under Astarion’s weight and he obediently holds his arms out so that Tav can gently place the sleeping child against his chest.
Now that Astarion can take a better look, he can confirm that his daughter’s hair is of an indefinable colour and that her features are neither his nor Tav’s, plain as can be. Surely it won’t stay like that?
He and Tav are so ridiculously beautiful, their child can only be drop-dead gorgeous, right?
Astarion’s stomach drops indeed when, suddenly, something occurs to him. 
Oh dear, what if it’s his fault? He has no recollection of his family whatsoever; it’s very much possible that he and his immaculate looks are the exception in his lineage, and that he’s passed on only those mysterious less-than-perfect genes…Tav, as per usual, can’t be the issue!
Astarion is still catastrophizing when the bundle in his arms begins to stir.
All of a sudden, gold-speckled pale green eyes are looking up at him as if to ask what the fuck this weirdo’s problem might be. 
“Oh,” the weirdo in question exclaims at once. “Darling, look, she has your eyes!”
Tav, hugging him from behind, rests her chin on his shoulder, so she can watch as Astarion’s finger tenderly strokes their baby’s chubby cheek.
Their daughter also has, as it turns out, ten fingers and toes, a cute little nose and a hungry mouth—everything that’s supposed to be there is there, and it seems to be working fine, too—which is a huge relief. 
And aren’t those the tiniest pointy ears Astarion has ever seen? Let alone the unexpectedly strong fingers grasping at his!
Astarion, worries forgotten in a heartbeat, can’t help but smile at the baby in his arms. 
She is perfect, after all. 
Tav, face hidden in the crook of his neck, begins to tremble against his back. 
For a second, Astarion thinks she’s crying but then her laughter fills the chamber. It takes her a good moment to articulate whatever it is she finds so very funny.
“She'll grow out of it, you know?” Tav giggles in between her fits of laughter. 
Astarion stiffens. “Of what?”
“The turnip look. That’s what you’ve been worrying about the whole time, haven't you?”
“I was leaning more towards potatoes—but yes, I might’ve been a little worried about that,” Astarion admits sheepishly, although a grin is already tugging at his lips.  
Regaining her composure, Tav reaches over Astarion’s shoulder, her hand joining his as they get to know their child.
“Give it a couple of days and she will look like your proper little elf—beautiful just like her father.”
A content sigh leaves Astarion’s lips, right before he presses them against Tav’s temple.
“That’s the second best news I’ve heard today, my heart, truly.”
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psychedelic-ink · 9 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni, jackson era
word count: 1k
summary: joel finally allows you to pamper him.
warnings: a very explicit and detailed blow job, cock worship, dirty talk
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Joel doesn’t let you pamper him—ever. You hate that he doesn’t. But you also understand. This isn’t a world of soft caring touches and velvet tongues. He doesn’t mind spoiling you, however. He loves watching you quiver underneath him, especially loves hearing you beg when he makes you come over and over again, be it with his fingers or tongue. 
That doesn’t change the fact that you want to be the one spoiling him for a change. 
He changed during his time in Jackson. He’s more relaxed now—one might even say he’s happy. 
Which is why, right before sleep, you decide to kneel before him as he sits at the edge of the bed to take off his boots. You look up with hungry and hopeful eyes. 
“Darlin’,” he sighs. “What are you doin’?” 
“Don’t say no.” 
“I don’t even know what I’m sayin’ no to.” 
You let out a soft exhale as his thumb touches your cheek. He caresses the skin softly. His chuckle comes out in a puff of air, the corner of his eyes crinkling, he smiles down at you. 
“Tell me what you want.” 
The side of your face drops to his knee, “I want to suck your cock. I want you to let me make you feel good.” 
“You always make me feel good,” the soft timber of his voice makes you shudder, arousal pooling between your legs. Your eyelids flutter before you answer. 
“You know what I mean.” 
“Fine then,” he says in a faux exasperation. Joel spreads his legs and flattens his palms on the bed. “Do what you want sweetheart. I ain’t dumb enough to say no to you suckin’ my cock.” 
You shudder at the words, you love it when he talks dirty, his voice dropping and almost hoarse whenever he does. Looking up, you slowly unbutton his pants and lower the zipper. He helps you out only by lifting his hips, you don’t bother removing them completely. There’s something mind-numbingly arousing about being half-dressed, as if the two of you might need to bolt at any second, or the feeling that you’re not supposed to be doing this. 
But, of course, this is your home and the two of you can do anything. Still, the thought is enough to have you grinding down onto nothing. 
His cock is beautiful. And you had told him as much in the past only for your words to be shrugged off. Lowering his boxers, you watch as his length juts between his legs, painfully hard and leaking. You press your lips to the side, sliding down, you allow the tip of your tongue to trace the vein. You smile as you hear a hitch of breath. Flattening your tongue against the underside of him, you meet his gaze with heavy lashes. 
“I love your cock,” you say, voice embarrassingly horse. “You’d be amazed at how soaked I am right now.” 
A choked-out sound leaves him, a sound you can’t quite decipher. You elect to ignore it and dip down. You press your tongue between his balls, taking the sensitive skin between your lips as you let out a half-muffled moan. His hips jerk, cock gliding over your face. He’s so warm. 
Bringing a hand up, you cup him while continuing to swirl your tongue. You take him into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks. He’s getting louder now. However, you can still tell that he’s biting back sounds. You suck even harder, relishing in the way his thighs shake. You let go of them with a pop and bring your tongue back to his aching cock, you drag your lips until you reach the tip, wrapping your lips around him. 
“Fuck— Sweetheart. . . Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You’re gonna kill me.” 
Heavy drops of precome coat your tongue, moaning around him, you take him even deeper until the bulbous head reaches the back of your throat. His chest rattles with a growl, both hands coming up to each side of your head to push you further down. Your eyes water as you feel him inching down your throat, your lungs expanding as you try to breathe. Your thighs press together helplessly, desperate to relieve the growing pulse between your legs. You decide to bring one hand down but he stops you, only pulling back a little so you can breathe.
“You ain’t touchin’ yourself until I’m done. I thought you wanted to spoil me, honey. Don't go back on your words now. Don’t be a brat who’s nothin’ but bark and no bite.”
Much to your surprise, he drops his hands back down to his thighs, “Make me come, then I’ll take care of you.”  
Your insides flutter, cunt clenching almost painfully at the hoarse tone of his words. You brace yourself by placing your hands on top of his, straightening yourself to get a better angle. Your head bobs up and down on him, the wet sounds of your mouth working around him blending with his ragged breathing. He’s so close, you can tell by the way his back tenses and his breathing becomes more erratic. Your hand sneaks underneath his cock, giving him a gentle tug. 
With renewed fervor, you suck harder and faster, your tongue dancing around him, your hand squeezing his balls in perfect time with the movements of your mouth. Joel’s grip on his thighs tightens, nails biting into his own skin, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth. 
You pull back, gasping for air, and pump him faster with your hand, your mouth hovering just above him. Joel’s eyes meet yours and for a moment, you can see the tenderness and love there, buried under the lust. 
With one final stroke, you feel him release in your hand, his body shuddering and his hands flying to your head, clutching at your hair. Thick spurts of come lands on your cheek, lips, and chest, dripping down your burning body. You kiss the head of his cock, swallowing the last of his hot come, savoring the taste of him in your mouth. 
Reluctantly, you pull away, panting with your cheeks burning. Joel leans back on the bed, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high. 
“I knew you’d be good at that,” he says with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. 
You smile as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I told you. You should’ve let me do it way before, you’re too stubborn for your own good.” 
Joel grins and pulls you into bed with him, tucking you against his side as he begins to lazily play with your clit. 
“I think it’s my turn to return the favor,” he murmurs against your temple, his one hand trailing down to your breast. Your breath catches in your throat as he fondles you, playing with the pebbled flesh. 
And as he takes you over the edge, you can’t help but think that this is the kind of life you could get used to—spending nights with Joel, spoiling each other in every way possible, and maybe even falling in love a little more every day.
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