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#None of you will Ever hear the end of it when it drops
deerdeardarling · 2 years
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Every day we get closer to the galar villain arc in Pokemon Masters and every day we get closer to a Hop sygna suit
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bagofshinyrocks · 10 months
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Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
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John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
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Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
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Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
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John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
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Posted: 2023 Dec 10
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atrwriting · 29 days
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terrible company — logan howlett x reader
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secret time i never used to like wolverine because i thought i was cool and then i saw deadpool 3 and my jaw dropped and i watched most of the x men movies in like three days and now here we are
side note the tiktok edits went absolutely crazy with this scene
back at school needed to write something to keep me sane enjoy
barely edited we die like overworked students men
minors fuck off plz n thnx
as always, warnings: smut smut smuttt, enemies to lovers, fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk, light face slapping (trust me!), logan's a dick
“what, sweetheart? — afraid you might like it?”
you rolled your eyes at the man before you: logan howlett, the most obnoxious and formidable man you had ever met. his eyes twinkled with mischief, but his smirk hinted at so much more. this was the fifth or sixth time or so that he had flirted with you outright since you had first met him, and you had still found yourself being caught off guard from his honesty and lack of embarrassment.
he was an enigma to you — such terrible company, always brooding over something. then, randomly, he would see you and his eyes would get that look — as if he forgot what made him so miserable — and flirt with you so inappropriately that you didn’t know what to do, nor feel.
you sighed, staring at him. “can always count on you for shock value, can’t it?”
he smirked then, and you rolled your eyes. continuing, you spoke, “i’ll never get you. you are so mean to everyone — besides the people you want to fuck, of course.”
you turned away then, shaking your head. you didn’t hear him follow you. you grew angry after that realization, causing another sharp breath of air to leave your nostrils in a huff. you weren’t sure if you were angry at the fact that he didn’t follow you and immediately apologize even though he would never do that, or if you were just angry at how you were upset he didn’t follow you.
you tried not to think about it. you had work to do.
your next mission would be based out in the north somewhere — cold, dark, barely any service or electricity, and horrific weather. all of that would’ve made anyone groan, but none of that was the worst part.
not even close.
the worst part was that logan was your partner.
it made bile rise in your throat at the thought.
you generally didn’t mind him — he was grumpy, sure, but someone like old yeller would be grumpy after how many years he’s been alive and after what he’s been through. what pissed you off and what you couldn’t forgive — is how he treated different groups of people. he picked on a lot of people, and even if it was just “harmless hazing” — you didn’t care. it wasn’t cool and it definitely wasn’t hot. it was hurtful and you didn’t like it. he made fun of your friends, and that was where the hate began — and there was no end in sight.
but the best part? oh — the fucking cherry on top? his endless flirtation. he flirted with you shamelessly as if he wasn’t ruthless with your friends moments prior. did he think you void of loyalty? did he think you would sleep with him after he roasted your friends just because he threw a few sleazy comments your way? how little respect did he have for you? or, worse — how little respect did he think you had for yourself?
made your fucking blood boil.
that no good, rotten, fucking —
“hey, sweetheart —“
when you were within fifteen feet of him, it felt like all you did was roll your fucking eyes and bite back a quip. all you wanted to do was put him in his fucking place, or stay as far away from him as possible. however, with a mission so important — so dire — you couldn’t ask for a reassignment and make the team succumb to immature whims. you put up with logan because neither you, the team, nor the government had more options or time.
“what, logan?” you spat, pursing your lips as you turned around to face him.
fuck, he was so goddamn handsome. his skin was tanned from constantly being outside, looking perfectly aged. his facial hair and hairstyle were out of the ordinary as well, but it only kept your attention on him longer. he was strong — so strong. his muscles could kill in mere seconds, and you realized you hated yourself for thinking this way. for falling into the trap of a man so annoying — so undeserving of your attraction — your only response was to clench your jaw and fucking glare at him.
he raised his eyebrow at your attitude. “others already took the cars and helicopter. looks like we’re takin’ in my chopper.”
he didn’t wait for you to disagree. in fact, as you were winding up your “aaaabsolutely not” he immediately turned around and left towards the front — where his motorcycle was parked outside.
you stared at him as he walked towards the bike — broad shoulders clad in the leather jacket he always wore. his legs, even covered in jeans, were so trim and muscular that you could see the power behind each stride. when he swung one leg over the seat, and two hands gripped the handle bars — you would’ve said he was attractive if it wasn’t for how horrendous he was. you would’ve bit your hand at how broad his shoulders were and the strength behind them. you should’ve torn your gaze away from him — because at that moment, the moment where you were contemplating your attraction towards him and how it worked with your hatred for him — he caught you staring.
he caught you staring — and the fucking bastard smirked.
you cursed then, and then started towards his bike. like he once did, you swung your leg over and wrapped your arms around his midsection.
“hold on tight, sweetheart,” he spoke, the vibrations of his deep voice felt against your chest. “can’t say i’d let anything bad happen to you, though.”
“just drive, logan,” you spat through gritted teeth.
he chuckled darkly then, revving his engine. “yes ma’am.”
with his back to you, unable to see his reaction — it was the one moment, the one fucking time that you didn’t roll your eyes at him. your reaction to his words — yes ma’am — was raw and surprising, unsettling almost. you shifted in your seat and adjusted your grip on him as a warmth settled in your stomach, and on the apples of your cheeks. your breaths turned shallow, too, as your whole body succumbed to the blush that overtook.
no, you thought. you think he’s hot. that’s fine. assholes can be hot — we just can’t act on how hot they are. that’s fine. it’s fine. everything is fine —
but the way he smelled? oh god, the way he fucking smelled? logan was what bath and body works modeled those mahogany or whisky or leather or whatever-the-fuck candles after. part of you wanted to curse him out, making up something to be mad at him for — but the other parts wanted to wrap your arms around him tighter and stick your nose in the back of his neck like a depraved lunatic.
but you couldn’t. you wouldn’t let yourself. you sat up straighter then — trying to put as much space as possible between you and him on a vehicle that was not meant for a rivalry between driver and passenger.
you were disgusted with yourself. so, so disgusted with yourself.
fuck, you thought. this is going to be a long night.
when you reached camp, you immediately began setting up. you set up shelter and got your supplies in order, and logan went out looking for food. that was logan’s one quality that not even you could take away from him — he was an excellent hunter. you tried to busy yourself as best as you could — setting up the tent, starting the fire, the works. the sun would almost be down before logan came back.
when you heard his footsteps, your head immediately flicked up towards him. there he was — dinner thrown over his shoulder, clad in a white tank top, and cigar in his mouth. a cloud of smoke followed behind him as he walked towards where you had set up camp.
“showing off?” you cast your gaze down, putting another log on the fire.
“…is it working?”
you couldn’t help it. you let out a small laugh.
fuck.
you cleared your throat immediately, hoping he didn’t hear it. unfortunately, there was no use in that. fear struck you when you saw the tiniest smirk on his face. you brushed it off, leaving him to go get a sweatshirt as he dressed and cleaned the animal.
“scared of a little blood, sweetheart?”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his comment. “it’s an animal, logan. not our enemy.”
“…fuckin’ vegans.”
“okay, old yeller —“ you quipped, poking at the fire. “you don’t feel a drop of sadness when you go after bambi?”
“it’s meat,” that was all he said on the subject, and you didn’t feel like poking the bear.
you ate in silence and went to bed in silence. actually — you went to bed. logan stayed out by the fire until you retreated to your tent. you left him with a bottle of jameson on his right, and a cigar in his left hand. his eyes were trained on the fire.
you didn’t like the look on his face. it was either an expression of zoning out, sadness, or a mixture of both — you couldn’t be sure. any time someone had asked logan what was on his mind, it was usually met with some rude or mean insult from logan. old yeller didn’t like feelings, and that worked out well for you — because you didn’t want to hear about his feelings.
you thought he would stay out all night if he could, never sleeping. however, he did end up going to bed — but you only knew that because he woke up screaming from a nightmare.
him yelling was extremely inconvenient and frankly dangerous — it could blow your cover. in your exhausted state, you sprung up and out of your tent and dashed over to where logan was curled on the ground. he was thrashing at the air — knocking over his bottle of whisky and kicking at the fire.
“logan!” you hissed, trying to force yourself out of your discombobulated state. the thrashing continued, and in a moment of desperation — you got on top of him.
straddled him, to be more exact.
in a moment, his eyes snapped open. your back was on the ground and he was above you — one of his claws at your jugular. logan’s instincts woke up before he did as he laid on top of you and over you, breathing heavily as he kept his blade drawn at your neck with his eyes blown wide.
“you were having a nightmare,” you choked out. “you’re okay —“
he was still staring at you and breathing heavily. it was like he was in a trance — unaware of how to navigate the feeling of peace and a fight or flight response. his pupils, blown wide, showed no sign of calming down.
you reached both hands to grasp at his cheeks, feeling the tickle of his beard on your palms. “you’re safe — it’s alright.”
he dropped his head then — on your collarbone. it hung in shame, guilt, and exhaustion. the unholy trinity that followed logan howlett around for his entire life. one of your hands slid to the back of his neck, cupping the base of his head as his thumb stroked his skin.
“i’m sorry,” was all he said, head still in the crook of your neck.
“you’re good — i get them, too.”
“i’m not looking for a pity party, alright?” he snapped, pushing himself up.
that was it. the final straw.
you reached forward them, yanking him by the shirt so you were nose to nose — tongue on fire, throat hoarse with anger and tight with sadness. “you’re such an ass, you know that? all you do is insult my friends, expect me to sleep with you, and then the moment — the one fucking moment — you show any sign of humanity, i extend a fucking olive branch, and you snap at me? — the fuck is your problem, logan?”
he raised his brows then, almost in a beckoning fashion. “you think i need a shoulder to cry on, huh, sweetheart? — that’s the thing with you young people, why your friends annoy me so much — there’s no fucking time to spend whining when there’s a fucking job to do.”
“jealous, logan?” you spat, still gripping his shirt. “can’t stand the fact that i would rather console the people you insult rather than let you fuck me?”
“what you do in your spare time is yours, sweetheart —“ he scoffed. “if you want to spend it with people who don’t respect you, fine by me.”
“don’t respect me?!” you spat. your face was red and hot now, burning with rage. every word that left your mouth was coated in venom hoping to strike him like his words struck you. “you’d fuck me, leave, and then probably treat me with as much disdain as you treat everyone else — how the fuck is that better?!”
oh — you shouldn’t have.
you really, really shouldn’t have.
you felt the regret as soon the word “better” left your mouth — only a moment before you saw something switch in logan’s eyes. the switch was followed by a twitch in his jaw, the movement he makes before he basically uses someone’s spine as a tooth pick. you knew he wouldn’t hurt you — he couldn’t, he wouldn’t — but damn, the realization of how much weight your statement held in his chest concerned you.
you watched his nose crinkle in anger.
he let out a frustrated, slow breath.
another.
and another.
and then another. he was still on top of you then — staring down his nose at you. you were cocky, cocking your chin up at him — trying to feign looking him in the eyes despite your lack of height. you didn’t want to be a sexual object, there for his free use. you didn’t want to be something he could discard, worthless. you didn’t want logan to give you the same treatment he gave your friends — because that would mean you were no longer worth anything to him.
you braced yourself for his words — what you always thought would come, sooner or later. the end of flirting, and the beginning of rejection and hatred.
“that’s it, huh?” he spoke low then, fighting back anger. “the princess thought i’d leave?” his lips were barely touching yours then, threatening the barrier and final boundary of air between you two. your chest was rising and falling with every word, unable to keep your cool. he continued, “maybe i should — since now you sound like your friends — bunch of fucking whiners.”
you slammed at his chest then, trying to push him off for his hurtful words. he didn’t budge — he was the fucking wolverine, what could you do that would get him to actually move?
“the problem is, doll —“ he took both of your hands and pressed them down next to your head. “i know you’re not like them — and i like you too much to leave.”
you scoffed, gritting your teeth. “stop fucking —“
he let go of one of your wrists and grabbed your chin in his strong hand, silencing you. he stared down at you then, and no words had the chance to leave your lips. anger sent daggers from your eyes to his, but something swirled within his irises. something worse than anger — darker. stronger. harder.
“are you going to stop fucking whining and let me kiss you?” he spat. “or are you going to crawl away with your tail between your legs and be forced to use that stashed vibrator you keep in your bag?”
you sucked in a sharp breath then — eyes going wide as your lips fell open in surprise. he smirked then, obviously pleased. your chest was still rising and falling, but now it was with shallow breaths as something else filled your lungs and abdomen.
heat. pure heat. warmth spread throughout your ribs, abdomen, and core once you absorbed logan’s words. he was so mean — so fucking rude and mean — but his “no bullshit” attitude forced you to keep out of your own way in a way you didn’t want to admit you liked. you were still then — and all you could do was stare up at logan with your big, dark eyes as a smirk crept onto his face.
“that’s it, baby,” was all he whispered before he kissed you.
the hand that once held your face slid around the back of your head, holding the base of your skull up and out for him. he planted his spread knees in between your thighs, cementing himself in place as his other arm held himself up.
logan kissed you with demand in every movement. his lips lead you in a fashion that so passionate and so dominant that your brain and body were fucking putty — his to mold in his hands as he deemed fit. you should’ve been disgusted, tormented by the fact that he would do such a thing — but you couldn’t keep up the act any longer. having logan so close, so warm — it was the ultimate act of comfort.
men had kissed you before — but no man from before could kiss you like this. this. no man had the power to claim you in the open, dangerous air while on top of you and still making you feel so safe and protected. you didn’t feel the need to go out of your way to show dominance — and it felt so fucking good to turn your brain off, even for just a moment.
and logan? fuck — logan? he had wanted nothing more for months than to be exactly where he was now; on top of you, tongue exploring the mouth that loved to insult him. he knew how on edge you were, how you were always caring about everyone but yourself — he just wanted to see what you were like when you could only think about one thing, and one thing only: your own pleasure.
it started with his fingers tightening on the back of your neck ever so slightly. your throat let out a quiet sort of mewl — like he had squeezed the last shred of focus out of you. he wanted you out of focus — not necessarily under his control, he just wanted you to lose control. crying, screaming, taking out your anger on him for all he cared — but he just wanted to be the one that made you forget about everything for a little while.
…so when he felt your hands running up and down the length of his upper body, curious as to the muscles of his shoulders — he knew what to do. he couldn’t help himself, should’ve asked —
he lowered his lower body down and ground against your clothed core.
instinctively, your legs tried to wrap around his — trying to bring him closer. you were struggling, it was so cute to him. he thought about how mean it would be to tease you, even if it was for a little bit — but would quick fun honedtly help you? the stick up your ass would probably never leave, he thought — he had to do this right.
and when he did it again — the smallest whine built in the back of your throat, sending vibrations throughout your body and senses. logan’s hyper sensitive hearing sent shivers — actual shivers — up and down his spine, and right to his cock as his strained against his zipper.
he felt you clam up then, tighten — insecure. he could sense it. smell it.
“don’t you dare —“ he breathed, demanding another kiss from you. he would swallow you whole if given the choice. “those whines you make? those sweet, little noises? — they’re mine, doll. mine. you don’t get to take what’s mine, do you?”
“no —“ you whimpered, shakily. “but — i — i thought —“
he let your neck go, much to your dismay, but that empty feeling was replaced by his large, flat palm pressing against your clothes core. you jumped for a moment, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you peered up at him through your lashes.
“thinkin’ i hate whiners?” he laughed, biting on the skin of your neck as he kept palming you. “not when they sound as pretty as you, doll. ‘m so hard for you — gotta know you want this as much as me.”
you almost let out a struggled gasp then, close to tears. he was so mean. the stress and pain of waiting could be felt all over. he was being so sweet — so generous with his touches — but you wanted more. needed more.
“wan’ it so bad, logan,” you gasped, almost hiccuping. “don’t fuck with me anymore, please — no more games.”
you felt his hand slide your zipper down its track, smirking. “no more games means you’re mine, doll. i don’t fucking share.”
you watched as his large hand — calloused from years of war, labor, and pain — found its way under your pretty, lacy thong. he wanted to rip it off you, free you from the tight clothing — but he needed you now. you needed him now, and he wouldn’t deny you any longer.
you were soaking wet when you felt two fingers slip in between your folds, sending a sharp breath to be sucked in between your lips. logan watched in awe as the flames of the fire caught the glistening wetness on his fingers, illuminating the reflection for both of you to see and witness.
it was obvious to him now — you wanted him so badly, for longer than you had ever let on.
he should’ve been slow, loving, maybe even tender — but that wasn’t him. never was, and never would be. your grip tightened on his as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, sucking him in desperation.
you immediately tried to bite back a squeal when you felt his fingers finally slide all the way inside you, leaving no space undiscovered. the pads of his fingers were nudging at the roof of your pussy as the meat of his fleshy palm rubbed against your lonely clit — pink, puffy, and pathetic. so desperate. you were biting your lip now, screwing your eyes shut — trying to fight the urge to scream his name.
“oh, i don’t think so, doll,” he grunted. “look at me.”
you tried to look at him. you really did. when you couldn’t manage it, your eyes blurry — you couldn’t believe it: he lightly smacked your jaw.
it should’ve sent you reeling, absolutely fuming — but it only caught your attention. he was glaring down at you, fuming, with a pink hue on his cheeks. “what did i say, huh?”
you couldn’t respond. he had halted his movement, leaving you to buck into his hands.
“those moans are mine,” he spat. “you’re goin’ to be loud, and you’re goin’ to let me know exactly how it feels, alright?”
“okay,” you whimpered. “please just —“
“fucking christ —“ he spat exasperatedly. his movements were rougher now, more than ever — sending you closer and closer to the edge. “your wound so tight, you know that? so fucking concerned and always thinking — you’re goin’ to let go for me, doll, and i’m not taking my eyes off this pussy until it sings for me.”
“fuck, logan —“ you threw your head back, screwing your eyes shut.
“you wanna close your eyes, baby, huh?” he grunted with cockiness in his voice. “too much for you?” his voice was low and guttural, turning you on more and more. “need to see what it’s like when you break for me, baby. — lose it for me, yeah? come on — that’s it — that’s a girl —“
every muscle in your body was tightening with every word. you were straining against him — wanting to pull him close and push him far away at the same exact time. you wanted your orgasm, he wanted your orgasm — and you both fought the other for it. you were grinding your hips up to meet his hand — and he was pushing you back down to the ground so you’d sit-the-fuck-still and take whatever he gave you.
logan hovered over you, knees still planted between your thighs. he still worked at your pussy, still forcing it to consume everything he had to offer. his free hand grabbed at the hair at the top of your head, pulling it back so you were at his complete and total mercy, gasping and whimpering for him — and only him.
“yeah, baby — get lost in it. show daddy how much you needed this.”
you couldn’t take it anymore. you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. the relentless need to stay strong, to keep your cool, always remain calm — gone. all of it — gone. shockwaves went up and down your body, every muscle now taught. your neck stretched back and your back arched up into logan’s chest as your orgasm ran up, down, and through every vein. your throat was dry and cracked — as were any and all coherent words that left your mouth. gasps, cries, whimpers — they all went straight to logan’s cock the minute he smelled the sweet and tangy scent of your juice flowing onto his hands and palm. he wanted to lick you up and down, swallow you whole — but logan wasn’t a patient man, no — never.
and there he was. smirking, above you — not even slightly tired.
he kept up his torture — hand still working at your pussy.
“that’s it, baby — ride out that high,” he grunted in your ear, biting at your shoulder. “nice and easy. come down for me, sweetheart — daddy’s not done with you yet.”
you fell back against the dirt, gasping — wondering where the fuck you were and how logan got you there. everything about you — blurry. your eyesight, your hearing, your sense of smell — all of it: blurry. numb and tingling. you could feel everything and nothing all at once, all while trying to catch your breath.
the only thing you could do, the only thing — was reach for logan’s belt buckle, whining for more.
he smirked down at you then once more, taking his cock our for you to wrap your small, weak hand against its girthy base. you were still reeling from the orgasm, but he didn’t mind.
“greedy girl.” he kissed you, mouth hot and demanding. “pussy feels empty without me, huh? gotta change that.”
he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, your muscles stretching and conforming to his will. you pulled him close to you, whining into his kiss. he swallowed every feverish moan with everything he had, his mind now also buzzing with pleasure.
“bet your pussy feels so warm and wet —“ he breathed. “gonna let me use you, baby? hmm?”
you shook your head feverishly, tears coming to your eyes. “please, logan — please use me.”
that’s all he needed. he slid his long length inside you, and he felt every stretch. your pussy was so sweet — ready to mold to whatever he gave you. he heard your head fall back in pleasure, a loan erupting from your chest — but logan couldn’t care about that right now. all he could focus on was how your pussy opened wide for him, sucking him in like if needed him as much as he needed you. he felt himself grow longer and thicker inside of you, almost painfully.
“jesus fucking christ —“ he hissed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving his face into the crook of your neck. his guttural, deep moans were sent straight through your ear and down every nerve in your body. he grunted, “gonna let me take what i need, baby? let daddy use you?”
“yes, please —“ you cried. “need it so bad.”
he bent your leg back to your chest now, and suddenly the head of his cock was hitting a spot you had never felt before. so deep, so hidden — hot tears sprung to your eyes when he found it. every part of you was sensitive, buzzing for his touch — and all you could think about how there was more and more to give to him, only his to take.
“right there —!” you sobbed.
“that’s your spot, huh?” he spat through gritted teeth. “no boy has found that, i can tell. i can fucking smell it. you want me to pound into you there, baby? gonna let a real man show you how he fucks his girl?”
you were sobbing at this point, pulling him closer and closer into you if there was any space. you couldn’t respond. you didn’t have the strength or the brain to do so. all you could do was bite down on logan’s shoulder as he fucked into that spot — that one fucking spot — as he let out animalistic groans in your ear.
“all mine.”
“my fucking pussy —“
“good fucking girl —“
“gonna cream in this pussy until you can’t take it.”
your second orgasm ripped through you then as tears leaked from your eyes. your teeth broke logan’s skin, blood flooding your mouth as he moaned. the pain coursed through him with the pleasure, mixing within his veins until everything else and around him was forgotten. the only thing that mattered was the greedy pussy sucking him in, and the sweet girl beneath him.
logan was a fucking animal with how he chased your high. he ripped and clawed at the dirt as he drank in your second orgasm, feeling you go limp beneath him. the adrenaline coursing through his veins had a mind of its own — he wrapped your arms around his neck as he took your hips in both of his hands. he held you both upright then — smashing your hips down to meet his as you hung on for dear life. deep, broken grunts were pushed through his gritted teeth as he fought tooth and nail for his orgasm. he dove head first into it, letting you both fall to the ground.
you felt logan’s body shake — fucking shake. you had never known him to succumb to something so peaceful and powerful — so demanding of him. his muscles strained against the control like they were chains and he needed to break free. he groaned into the crook of your neck and tresses of your hair as he fucked himself into your puffy pussy, your cries mixing with his groans. logan’s thrust were desperate as he fucked his cream inside you, part of it coming out and leaking onto his cock as it mixed with your juice. the sight of it ripped through him as the want to claim you again and again took him too. he found your lips once more, both of you gasping into a kiss as you both settled back into the dirt.
it was going to be a long, long night...
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corollaservant · 5 months
Text
Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)
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Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)
Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)
A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.
You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.
Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 
You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.
‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).
‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 
‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?
You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 
‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.
‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 
‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.
‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.
My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 
‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?
‘’Two hours.’’ 
‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.
‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’
‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.
 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.
‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)
‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.
‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 
‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.
‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 
Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.
-
Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 
You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.
‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 
It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.
‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 
You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.
‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.
‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.
‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?
‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.
‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.
‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 
‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’
Unless you want to change my mind?
‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.
‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 
The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?
This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.
‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 
Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?
During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 
Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 
‘’W–what are y—’’
‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 
You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—
‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?
‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.
‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.
‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.
‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.
‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.
(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)
He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.
‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.
‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.
‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.
‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 
The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 
His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.
Shit, he’s big, can you take him?
‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 
He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.
‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.
‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.
‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 
‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.
‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.
‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.
‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.
Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 
‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–
‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 
‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.
‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')
‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.
‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.
He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 
‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.
‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.
‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.
‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 
And fuck if that isn’t hot.
He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.
God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.
You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.
See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 
‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 
Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 
You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.
‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’
Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.
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pomefioredove · 5 months
Note
could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^
more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests
parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc
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If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
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Trey and Cater's Ending
"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"
Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?
Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"
Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.
"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."
Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.
"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"
Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.
"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"
Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"
"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."
"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.
---
"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.
It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.
Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"
"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."
"...Understandable,"
Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.
"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."
You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"
"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."
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Leona's Ending
"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.
"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"
Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"
"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"
He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.
---
"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."
You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.
"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."
"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."
Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.
"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"
He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"
"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"
"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"
"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.
You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.
"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"
He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."
You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.
It could be better, but it could also be worse.
Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.
This could definitely be interesting...
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Rook's Ending
"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."
At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."
"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"
Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.
As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.
What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.
The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.
He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."
...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.
"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.
"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.
"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"
You couldn't have said it better yourself.
Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"
The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"
You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.
Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.
It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.
"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"
"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.
Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"
"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"
He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.
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Idia's Ending
LOL. Normies.
Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.
I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.
That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...
The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.
He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.
Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"
"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"
"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"
Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"
Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"
"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"
"Well-"
"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"
"But Idia-"
"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"
"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.
"Idia, you won!"
And then he dies.
That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.
"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"
A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.
"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"
He takes a long moment to respond.
"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"
You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.
"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"
"I could go for something,"
Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.
"Um..."
He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"
He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.
"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"
He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.
Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"
"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"
"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"
"Clever," you murmur.
Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"
"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"
You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"
You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.
"Well? Are you coming?"
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Lilia's Ending
"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"
Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"
Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"
Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.
Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"
"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.
---
You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.
You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"
"Surprised, you say?"
No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.
You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.
Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.
"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"
Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.
"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"
You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.
"No,"
"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"
"Definitely not, then,"
He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.
It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.
"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.
Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"
There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.
"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"
"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"
You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"
"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"
"Then... who is?"
Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"
Ah.
If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.
This might take the cake, though.
"I didn't even know-"
"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"
"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"
"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"
"This is... quite the turn of events,"
"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"
You can only grimace at that.
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Malleus' Ending
During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.
Not that it mattered. Not this time.
One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.
"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.
Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"
Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.
Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.
"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.
You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...
"Yes,"
Oh.
"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.
Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"
"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."
Oddly profound.
You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.
"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."
He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"
"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"
Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.
And the, he smiles.
"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"
What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"
"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"
He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"
You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.
"Yes, it does,"
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samaraxmorgan · 2 months
Text
Your Roommate Sukuna
“That Time I Gave Him Covid”
Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader
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Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!
Contains: pure fluff, Sukuna makes you watch The Human Centipede but nothing is described in detail, pining at the end but he’s in denial
Word Count: 1.08k
Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist
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Look, a day off is nice, and a few days off could be a real treat, under just about any other circumstances. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee that you didn’t even need to add sugar to because the bitter taste can’t affect you when you literally can’t taste it.
You noticed the symptoms a couple hours ago, scratchy throat, can’t taste, can’t smell; you had an extra Covid test under the kitchen sink since you bought a two pack a couple months ago, and unsurprisingly you tested positive. And now you’re stuck in your little apartment for a week, trapped in the confined space with your oversized roommate who’s going to be just thrilled to hear the news.
He’s literally gonna kill me.
As if on cue, you could hear Sukuna’s footsteps thumping down the stairs, his eyes meeting yours as he turned the corner and a look of confusion spreading across his face.
“Don’t you have a job?”
You snort, oh he’s not gonna like this, “I’ve got bad news bud.”
“Don’t ever call me that again.” He shoots you a glare as walks into the kitchen, pulling a glass out of the cabinet.
You roll your eyes, a sheepish grin creeping at the corners of your lips as you prop your cheek onto the palm of your hand, “We have Covid.”
“Who’s we?” He doesn’t even look at you, his back facing you as he pulls a carton of milk out from the fridge and fills the glass.
Even though he can’t see it, you give him a quizzical look, “We literally live together? My germs are all over the place.”
He turns around, leaning his back against the kitchen counter and looking down at you in your seat with a nonchalant expression, “I’ve got a good immune system,” He brings the glass up to his lips and takes a sip, “I’m fine.”
You know he’s full of shit, cocky bastard can’t genuinely think he’s above getting sick, right? You look up at him dumbfounded as he casually sips his glass of milk, he’s got a completely blank expression.
When’s the last time we even bought milk? That has to have been sitting for a while now. Oh, oh wait…
Hah, yeah he’s so full of shit. He cocks a brow at the smirk you didn’t realize had grown across your face.
“What’s so funny, brat?”
“How’s the milk taste?”
He shrugs, clicking his tongue in his mouth, “Fine.”
“When did it expire?”
“It didn’t,” He raises the glass to his nose and smells it with no changes in his expression, he picks the carton up and turns his wrist to read the back of it, “It’s good ‘til-”
He stops himself short, his mouth dropping into a small surprised oh, you can’t even attempt to suppress the giggle that escapes you.
You let your arms slide down outstretched across the kitchen table, your cheek pressed against the smooth wood, “I guess we’re quarantine buddies.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”
I figured as much.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Your face is buried in your hands, shielding your poor, absolutely tortured eyes from the TV. Eerie music with muffled screams and maniacal laughter emit from the speakers and fill the room as Sukuna outstretches his leg to reach your side of the couch, prodding at your arm with his foot.
“You’re not even watching.”
“This is horrible.”
“This is payback.”
You peek through your fingers, immediately wanting to gag at his disgusting movie choice. The Human Centipede, really? He’s watching it so casually, somehow managing to have the stomach to eat popcorn as well, albeit most of the popcorn has been tossed into your hair from when he caught you squeezing your eyes shut during the teeth pulling scene. Now that was brutal.
“Can we please watch something else? Anything?” You whine into your hands.
“I’ve got the DVD for Cannibal Holocaust.”
You let out an exasperated sigh, flopping your head backward onto the couch cushion.
It’s gonna be a long week.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
“Woman, how in god's name do I move?”
“You click where you want to go, and,” You lean forward and tap your finger onto your laptop's screen, “Click here.”
“That’s so fucking stupid.” He grumbles under his breath.
You roll your eyes but to be honest, you’re impressed he was actually willing to play one of your games. It seems the last few days of being stuck together have broken him down a bit, and now you’re leaning against his arm watching him attempt to maneuver around The Sims on your laptop.
Sukuna lets out a frustrated groan, “This game sucks, you can’t even kill people.”
You draw back in surprise, “Have you never played Sims before?”
He turns his head towards you, looking completely baffled that you’d even ask, “No? Obviously.”
Oh he’s in for a treat.
Within an hour he’s drowned 4 people, burned down someone’s mansion, got a call to come meet a child that he didn’t even know was his, and let out an absolutely delighted “Oh? What’s this?” when he found the tools to make prison bars. You can’t say you’re surprised by any means, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t amused.
You’re watching his eyes flicker around the screen, brows furrowed in concentration and his sharp canine digging into the side of his bottom lip as he oh so meticulously picks out the least comfortable looking beds for each little prison cell. You’ve been slowly slouching against his side more and more over the last hour, and he either hasn’t noticed or is too invested in his mass murder scenarios to even care as sickly fatigue has your head resting on his shoulder and your eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open.
Little do you know, he’s well aware of your weight pressing into him; but, he’s willing to let it slide this time, deciding that you’ve pleased him enough for him to hold back from pushing your sleepy body onto the ground. Even though it would be hilarious to see the look on your face when you wake up to your back flopping onto the plush rug beneath you, and even funnier to watch you try to slap at him as he holds both of your wrists in one hand, he’s willing to spare you just this once, although he couldn’t possibly fathom the reason why.
It’s not because he’s growing a soft spot for you, no, because that would be ridiculous.
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A/N: I wasn’t planning to start with this one BUT I couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario so I guess we get him sick immediately asakjjaan Dividers by @adornedwithlight
Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist!!
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midnightwriter21 · 6 months
Text
jjk hcs: the jjk boys as boyfriends
characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu
warnings: none (i think?)
AN: if there’s anymore boyfriend hcs that you’d like to see lmk!! read gojo & nanami as boyfriends HERE
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YUJI ITADORI
oh girl i am JEALOUS
he can be a little air headed at times but he’s the sweetest bf ever
i say he’s air headed but he’s actually very attentive
you get half an inch trimmed off your hair?
he notices immediately
“babe your hair looks great!”
notices everything about you actually
from your favorite color
to the brand of PENS you prefer to use
who tf notices the brand of pens people use?!?
yuji does
yk the tiktoks of boys picking entire BUSHES of flowers for their girlfriends
that’s him.
he straight up rips a whole bush out of the ground from the front of jujutsu high to give to you
principal yaga was not amused
gojo was tho
HE PRINTS OUT YOUR INSTAGRAM PICTURES TO REPLACE THE POSTERS OF MODELS ON HIS WALL
he’s so proud that your his girl fr
oh and he’s gotta hella pet names for you too
they’re all super basic
babe, sweetheart, cutie, etc.
he flirts w u like y’all aren’t together
awful pickup lines and everything
“do you have a mirror in ur pants? cause i can see myself in them.”
if u don’t think he’s the cutest then u can go argue with the wall bye
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
he has me in a chokehold
anyways
at the beginning of y’all’s relationship he’s awkward as fuck
but he eases up pretty quickly
veryyyyyy private with y’all’s relationship
if you somehow get him to hold your hand in public let alone give you a kiss?!?
girl count ur blessings fr
and it’s not bc he’s embarrassed of your relationship or anything no ma’am
it’s bc he would NEVER hear the end of it from gojo, nobara, and yuji
valid excuse
but when you two are alone?
oh girl it’s like he’s glued to you
when i say clingy? i mean it
also
king of nap time!!
he’s kidnapping u, bring you to his dorm room, dropping u on the bed, and laying completely on top of you
swear it’s his solution to everything
ur tired? it’s nap time
sad abt something? it’s nap time
a curse beat ur ass? it’s nap time
gojo is being annoying? it’s nap time
nap time cures everything ong
he’s not too crazy w the pet names
in private he’ll call you babe
in public you’re lucky if he adds a -chan to ur name lol
he’s so pretty boy
also can we appreciate his gorgeous luscious eyelashes?
no? okay
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YUTA OKKOTSU
i would give my first born to make him feel happy, safe, and loved
KING OF MY HEART
he’s so baby
he’s the type of bf that no matter how long y’all have been dating he still gets flustered over you
y’all been together for an hour? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek
y’all been together for a week? he’s blushing when you give him a kiss on the cheek
y’all been together for a year? he’s BLUSHING WHEN YOU GIVE HIM A KISS ON THE CHEEK
HE. IS. BLUSHING.
which is so incredibly endearing and innocent
but don’t get me wrong
mess with this man too much?
oh he’ll snap
he has the patience of a saint. but when it runs out?
oh ur in for it miss gurl
period.
teasing him a lil too much tryna make him flustered
when he finally snaps he is switching that dynamic up real quick
now he’s the one smirking and feeling all smug while you’re the one with the bright red face
ahem…
anyways
yuta’s love for you is very intense
now don’t start thinking HE is intense cause no
i mean yuta loves you so much that he might just crawl up inside ur body and live there
that type of intense
you occupy his mind 99.9% of the time
he’s on a mission and has time to stroll through the mall
“oh y/n would like that” aND HE’S BUYING IT
he’s chit chatting with inumaki and panda
best believe he finds a way to bring you up in conversation
“oh! that reminds me y/n said something the other day about…”
he is the softest ever when it comes to pet names
sweetheart, my love, princess, etc.
i’m so soft for him he deserve the world
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anto-pops · 7 months
Text
The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader
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Summary: Weeks after discovering some ancient tomes you're unable to decipher, you reach out to the Ministry of Magic Archives for help decoding the timeworn pages. The last thing you'd expected was for Sebastian Sallow to show up, much less for him to be so... attractive. Had he always looked like that?
Alternatively summarized as Sebastian Sallow pursued a professional career as a book nerd and also happens to be really well versed in sex.
Word Count: 6,969 (LMAO)
Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, explicit sexual content, size difference, Sebastian wearing glasses again
Up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure
You honestly didn’t think you’d ever thrown on clothes faster than you did the day someone apparated into your living room with a deafening crack, followed by a crash and a muffled, “Shit, ow.” 
If you were to die, you weren’t eager to do so half-naked and half-asleep. 
After hastily tying your robe around your waist and stuffing your feet in a pair of deteriorating slippers, you cautiously stuck your head into the hallway, the unruly strands of your bed head sticking to your cheeks and poking you in the eye as you assessed the situation. 
At the end of the hall you could see a stack of books scattered across the floor, along with a previously organized collection of newspapers now strewn over the top of a prone body. Said body was stirring beneath the crumpled parchment, and you bit your lip and wished desperately for coffee as you weighed your options. 
Option one: it was a murderer and you should leave immediately. The only problem was that the hallway leading to the front door was now blocked. Shit. 
Option two: it was a burglar, and if you could remember where you’d left your wand last night, you could petrify the man in place until officials came to your aid. 
Option three: it was a murdering burglar, and you might as well attempt to find out as much as you could before you wound up gruesomely cut down so you could at least haunt the bastard. 
As the concealed figure attempted to sit up, you heard another thump as something fell from above them, followed by an irate groan, and you gripped the doorway to your bedroom tightly as you managed to call out a meek, “Hello?” 
All movement and noises in the living room ceased for a moment, the air still and silent. You swore if the intruder dropped so much as a pin, you would hear it. The pair of feet belonging to the unknown man dragged along the floor as he seemingly stood himself up, and figuring that no burglar would be such a noisy wreck, you took your chances and slowly made your way down the hall to take in the damage done to your living space. 
Bizarre as it was to be so civil with someone who’d essentially broken into your home, you rounded the corner and found yourself asking, “Are you alright?” 
You were met with your potential adversary as he turned around, and you were equal parts surprised and confused to discover that it was none other than Sebastian Sallow. It had been years since you’d last seen him, the two of you having gone your separate ways after graduation as you continued hunting down ancient magic sites and he pursued a career within the Ministry. The last letter you’d received from him had come in a little over a year ago, sadly informing you that his sister had finally passed, albeit peacefully. 
To find him now standing in the midst of your demolished living room was a shock in and of itself. 
“Sebastian?” you asked incredulously, your eyes raking down his disheveled but well dressed body. He had certainly grown since you’d last seen him, his long legs accentuated by pressed slacks, and the suspenders that wrapped over his sculpted shoulders left little to the imagination. The button up he wore was just shy of being too small for his broad figure, and when you glanced back up at him, you watched as he brought one of his hands up to his face to fix his crooked glasses. 
“Hi,” he said lamely, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry for the mess– I, uh– well, I think I landed on something when I popped in.” 
Your eyes flicked down once more to the toppled stacks of books that now covered the floor, and your brow cocked of its own accord as you breathed out a laugh, “You don’t say.”
Still reeling from the abrupt wake up call, you could only stare dumbstruck as Sebastian fixed his clothing and picked invisible lint off of his shirt, then offered his hand to you. “Sorry about the books. And the, uh, language. I’m here about the old tomes you found?” 
As you accepted his outstretched hand and tried not to pass out from the firmness of it, you blinked and attempted to figure out what he was referring to. “Tomes?” 
“The ones you wanted looked over?” He let go of your hand to rifle through the small satchel strapped to his thigh, and it took a herculean effort not to drool over the sheer width of his leg. Merlin’s bloody balls… you’d been holed up indoors for too long. “You sent in this consultation request a few weeks ago,” he said, pulling out a small slip of parchment decorated in your familiar scrawl, and then it all started to come back to you. 
It had been nearly a month since, but during your last excursion to Scotland, you’d come across a set of unique, fragile tomes buried deep in an ancient magic site there. As curious as you’d been to read through their contents, the text within was hardly legible, and in truth, you weren’t even sure it was written in English. In a bid to still make use of the age-old books, you had reached out to the Ministry of Magic Archives to have someone potentially aid you in deciphering the timeworn pages. After almost a month with no response, you had simply shelved them all and moved on to planning your next trip.
“I completely forgot,” you muttered, taking the paper from Sebastian to read it over. “I kind of gave up hoping that the Ministry would send someone.”
“They weren’t planning on it,” he started to say, sounding conflicted as to whether or not he should continue. “But after I got my hands on the request, I took something of a personal interest in the case.” 
Jokingly, you teased, “You hold that much sway working in the Archives?” 
“I do when I’m the Archivist.” 
“You’re the Archivist?” Your jaw dropped comically fast, your eyes wider than saucers as you processed his statement. Suddenly you were looking at your former friend in a whole new light. In your mind, you had always assumed the Ministry’s Archivist would be… well, ancient. Old and withered, graying and feeble. Not youthful and– quite frankly– hot. “How did that happen?” 
Sebastian rocked back on his heels as he stuffed his thumbs in his pockets, the very picture of modesty as he shrugged, “It’s technically my trial period since the old Archivist just died a few months ago. But yeah, I guess my thirst for knowledge and reading habits paid off. At the very least it impressed the Minister enough for him to promote me.”
Eventually you managed to pick your chin up off the floor so you were no longer gaping at him like a fish, and you bashfully tucked a particularly stubborn strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat and said, “Well, congratulations then. Glad to hear you’re doing well for yourself.”
Sebastian stared at you for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath, his hand sweeping through the front of his curly hair, “Thanks. But anyways, I can take a look at those tomes now if you’ve still got them?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure. They’re on the shelf by the couch, let me just get changed.” 
“No worries,” Sebastian said quickly, grinning widely as he moved around you further into the living room, his eyes roving over you momentarily. “I’ve got this.”
Did he just… check you out? No way, you thought, shaking the idea from your mind entirely. 
You tracked the brunet as he strode over to the cluttered shelf beside the sofa, watching intently as he moved a few books around until he found the unmistakable tomes propped against the wooden panels. With the utmost care, Sebastian carefully withdrew one of the three with delicate fingers, his touch featherlight and ever conscious of the fragile nature of the bound piece of foreign literature. As he thoughtfully deposited the book on top of the coffee table, you couldn’t help but admire how gentle he was being with it; with hands that big, you found his tender touch to be something of a contrast to his entire person. 
Shamelessly, you also found yourself wondering how those hands of his might feel against your skin. 
Beating back your lustful thoughts with a mental brick, you managed to say with an even tone, “I’m surprised you can tell what’s what in that mess of a shelf. I’ve been told I have a bit of a hoarding problem– most people can’t separate the floor from the walls.” 
“Well, I’m not most people,” he retorted, flashing you a dazzling smile from over his shoulder. “It takes a bookworm to know one. My old overseer at the Archives used to tell me I ‘had no shelf control’.”
The silence that settled over the room was utterly loud, and as Sebastian’s face took on the hue of a ripe tomato, you were fighting a grin with every fiber of your being. Your lips contorted into something resembling a downward smile while the Archivist-in-training turned back to the bookshelf, dragging a hand down his flushed cheeks as a pained groan weaseled its way out of him. “Please forget I said that. I’ve picked up on one too many library jokes in the past five years.” 
Sweet Merlin, he was dorky as hell. Please leave, excessively hot Archivist. Either leave or stay for about six hours and don’t go until I’m ready to let you.
To spare him his dignity and also because you needed to refrain from staring at his attractive backside, you spun on your heel to head into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?” 
“Please,” he sighed in agreement, sounding all too excited about the change in topic. 
“I’ve got tea, coffee, and… water,” you finished pathetically. The barren cupboards above the pantry nearly brought a tear to your eye, and you made a mental note to do some shopping later if you had the time. 
Sebastian set the second tome down on the coffee table at the same time he called out to you, “Tea is fine, thank you.” 
It took a smidge longer than normal to boil the water, seeing as you had to pause your efforts to find your wand buried beneath the piles of maps in your bedroom. Once you had it in hand, however, you whipped up two steaming cups of black tea and returned to Sebastian minutes later to hand his cup over to him. He took it graciously, plainly eyeing you up over the brim of the mug as he took a tentative sip, and your stomach flipped at the suggestive look he fixed you with. 
“I’m a little jealous, you’ve got one hell of a collection here. I almost wish I could take some of these old books off your hands.” 
“Mm,” you hummed around a mouthful of tea, swallowing pointedly. Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Well, I think it might be time for me to clean house a bit anyways. If you wanted to, you could always come back and take your pick of what you like.” 
His brows rose momentarily before settling, a muscle in his defined jaw ticking as he glanced between you and the tomes on the table. Then with a voice like pure sin, Sebastian smoothly said, “And what if I like more than the books?”
Shit, shit. Redirect. You fought to employ every ounce of self-control in your body so you wouldn’t just jump into his strong arms and straddle him right there, but you were acutely aware of a few facts; you looked like you had fought a Hippogriff in your sleep, you had sorely little on under your robe, and Sebastian's eyes had been devouring the noticeable outline of your collarbone for the last minute or so. Fuck. 
“Then it sounds, uh,” you started to say, struggling to form words with the broad shouldered Adonis across from you seemingly undressing you with his eyes. “Like we might be on the same page.” It was the truth– you were as interested in the Archivist as you were in the purpose for his visit– but once the unintentional pun registered, you rolled your eyes and dug the heel of your palm into one eye, swearing softly. To his credit, Sebastian just laughed, taking another hearty sip of his tea as you shyly smiled up at him. 
With more work to be done back at the Ministry and your tomes in hand, Sebastian dutifully let you know that while he couldn't stay presently, he would absolutely be coming back later that night. He followed you into the kitchen to deposit his cup beside the sink, intentionally reaching over your shoulder to set the mug down before letting his fingers ghost along the skin of your neck. Goosebumps broke out all over your body at the contact, and when you turned around to face him with the counter pressing against your rear, his hands came to deftly adjust the revealing neckline of your robe with a coy smirk tugging at his lips. 
“See you at seven,” he purred, leaving you a blushing mess in your kitchen as he stepped back, winked, then apparated away. 
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, you had bathed, gone to the market to replenish your sorry excuse of a pantry, tidied up the previously demolished sitting area, and started cooking dinner. Part of you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself with everything, but after spending the entirety of your day reflecting on the stolen glances Sebastian had sent your way and his rather telling comment in the living room, you told yourself it couldn’t get any more obvious than that. 
He had always been rather cute during your time at school, but something about seeing him grown and fully matured had ignited a fire in your veins that stubbornly stayed burning for hours. 
When he showed up five minutes early at six fifty-five with freshly washed hair and wearing a darker version of his earlier outfit, your doubts all but vanished. Clearly you weren’t the only one itching to make a good impression. 
Sebastian followed you into the living room, now noticeably cleaner than it had been earlier in the morning, and held up the bottle of wine he’d been holding at his side. “I know you’ve got tea and water, but uh. I figured why not. It’s Friday after all.”
You smiled softly and let your hands brush against his as you took the wine from him, curiously watching as his fingers flexed when his arm returned to his side. “Thank you. I take it the Archivist doesn’t go to work on the weekends, then?” 
“The Archivist in training doesn’t, but I’m sure my free time will be a commodity before long. I’m pretty sure the last one frequently slept under his desk at the Ministry Headquarters. What about you? Any drab desk jobs to speak of?” 
“Nope,” you said, gesturing to the couch as you turned to head back into the kitchen. “When I need the extra money I’ll help out Sirona at The Three Broomsticks, but for the most part my explorations and Professor Fig’s estate hold me over well enough. I’m hardly ever home anyways, so it’s not like there’s many expenses to keep track of.” 
“I see,” Sebastian huffed as he collapsed into the couch, spreading his long arms along the top of the backrest as he took in the neater state of the living room. “I’m guessing your adventuring is why there’s so many books in the first place. Have you ever thought about upsizing?”
“Hardly,” you set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and chanced a look at the man on the sofa, oddly pleased to see him so at ease in the midst of your cluttered home. “I’d much rather downsize the collection. I don’t even need the majority of what I have– I’ve read through it all ten times over.” 
He nodded, “Fair enough.” 
“Anyway, I imagined you’d be hungry, so dinner’s almost ready.” 
“Oh, damn,” Sebastian mumbled, sitting forward to run a hand through his drying hair as you flitted around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to.”
“Unless you planned on feeding yourself later, I think most shops will be closed by the time you leave,” you said pointedly, turning to hide your grin when you observed the brunet flushing bright red. Miraculously you resisted the urge to add ‘if at all’ to the end of your statement. You unearthed the corkscrew buried deep within the kitchen drawers and popped open the wine bottle, filling two glasses before striding back into the living room to hand one over to Sebastian. “Feel free to take a look at any of the books, see if any of them might be worth taking to the Archives.”
The larger man gave you a lopsided smirk as he took the offered glass and clinked it gently against yours, muttering his agreement before shamelessly ogling your retreating form returning to the kitchen. The cinched waist of your otherwise simple dress was incredibly distracting. He elected not to sift through the piles upon piles of books, opting to instead watch as you hummed to yourself and stirred something on the stove, which Sebastian was beginning to realize smelled pretty fantastic. He was grateful for the distance between you both so you couldn’t hear his stomach growling. 
Once the food was ready, you ate with comfortable conversation flowing between the two of you the entire time. You asked Sebastian what he did in his soon to be nonexistent free time, and you were surprised to hear that he had taken on the role of Feldcroft’s token handyman. In his own words, the muggle approach to fixing things was relatively therapeutic, and he loved getting his hands dirty almost as much as he loved having his nose burrowed in book pages. It explained his physical appearance, at the very least. Until now, you’d just assumed he had a habit of squatting massive stacks of books in the Archives when he was bored. 
In turn he had asked you about your hobbies, about the ancient magic sites you visited, and about living on-the-go so regularly. It was so normal for you now that you barely batted an eye at being away from home for weeks at a time, and you told him as much with a half-hearted shrug. 
Lazily, you swirled the remaining wine around in your glass, bringing it to your mouth as you murmured, “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me here, so I don’t mind it.”
Sebastian watched you intently as you finished off your drink, taking in the pretty flush decorating your cheeks and the delectable way you licked your wine-stained lips in the moment that followed. “Anything, or anyone?” 
“Hm?” 
“You don’t have anyone to come home to? No pets, no kids…” he trailed off, the rest of his question dangling in the air like a lone cloud. Your eyes fell to Sebastian’s hand as he sensually ran his pinched fingers along the stem of his own glass, and his half-hooded eyes hidden behind his glasses said everything in place of the missing portion of his sentence. 
No lover, is what you knew he was indirectly asking. 
“Do you see anyone else here?” you teased, the sides of your mouth curling into a coy smile.
“No,” Sebastian retorted, pushing his empty glass away as he sat back in his seat, amusement etched across his handsome face. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to check. Had to make sure I was reading things correctly.” 
You perched your elbow on the armrest of your chair and balanced your chin on top of your fist casually before asking, “Was that another one of your jokes?” Hoping that you looked more confident than you felt, you mirrored his position and crossed one of your legs over the other, taking immense satisfaction in the way the brunet’s throat bobbed at the sight of your legs outlined through your attire. 
Sebastian looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he’d said, and he rolled his eyes at the same time an airy laugh spilled from your lips. “An accidental one, make no mistake,” he moved forward to the edge of his seat, leaning forward to play with one of the folds of your dress with his index finger. “But I have been thinking about you all day, and I may or may not have convinced myself that you’re way out of my league.” 
“You should be more confident,” you whispered, dropping your hand to clutch at the one the Archivist was inching towards your leg with. His fingers immediately spread to accommodate your smaller ones, and you tugged him a smidge closer so your noses were mere inches apart. Jokingly, you taunted him further by asking, “Did you still want to look at my book collection?” 
Before you could so much as yelp, Sebastian closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and pressed his lips to yours fervently, any lingering awkwardness falling away like leaves on a tree. His free hand came to curl around the back of your neck, holding you firmly against his mouth as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss further, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the brutish feeling of his broad hand holding you in place. 
He pulled away just enough to brush a tinier, more delicate kiss against the tip of your nose before he sighed, “I really don’t give a damn about the books right now.” 
A budding Archivist not caring about books? The scandal, is what you wanted to say, but then Sebastian’s lips were back on yours, swallowing your pending comment with a ferocity that had your stomach churning wantonly. Those brilliant hands of his left your neck and your hand to trail along your waist, his fingers digging firmly into the bodice of your dress to pull you towards him, and you followed his guidance all too willingly as he urged you from your seat. Within seconds you were in his lap, melting against him as he ground his hips up into yours while simultaneously using his hands to rock you against his hardening cock, and a satisfied groan emitted from him as you allowed him to move you as he pleased. 
In-between kisses, Sebastian managed to croak out, “Bedroom?” 
You barely managed a nod, too enthralled by the man under you to form actual words, and at the same time you dove back in for another heated kiss, Sebastian looped an arm around your back and the other under your ass as he stood up, lifting you with him as though you weighed nothing. Instinctively you hooked your legs around his hips, letting him haul you along to your bedroom while your hands flew to his neck to clutch at him ardently in a bid to keep your mouth glued to his. His ability to multi-task was something to compliment later on, because he kept walking and working his mouth over yours with a finesse that bordered on inhuman. 
The next thing you knew you were being thrown down on the mattress, bouncing in place briefly before you had to bite your lip to stifle a curse as you watched Sebastian fucking crawl up the bed towards you, predatory and sexy as hell. As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed for one of his suspender straps and pulled him closer, kissing him once again and moaning eagerly when you felt his hand grip at the seductive curve of your waist to squeeze before he settled on top of you. With his knees on either side of you, it was impossible to overlook the feeling of his achingly hard cock pressing down against your leg, and Sebastian groaned loudly when you tried lifting your hips to convey your impatience. 
“Someone’s excited,” he murmured against your swollen lips, grinning to himself as you worked to catch your breath. “Have you been thinking about me, too?” 
“Yes,” you gasped, your train of thought momentarily derailing when Sebastian moved so his chest was pressing against your clothed breasts, his hips flush with yours to better grind against you. “Don’t you own a mirror?”
Instead of replying to your thinly veiled compliment, Sebastian dipped his head into the crook of your neck to nip and kiss his way along your jaw with a rumbling moan, the force of his ministrations forcing your head back against the pillows. He was as eager as you were, that much was certain. As he rutted his concealed cock against your thigh, you heard and felt him shudder against you, and in an attempt to silence himself, the Archivist’s plush lips latched firmly onto a patch of skin under your jaw to suck a mark there. 
The stinging sensation of him biting down had your eyes fluttering shut, your entire being relishing in the light pain his teeth bestowed upon you, and Sebastian blindly reached for your wrist to pin your arm above your head. The dominant display had you voicing your approval in the form of a low moan, enjoying how being stretched out for him allowed for his other hand to rake down your side to start bunching up your dress. His movements didn’t cease as he lifted his hips slightly to free up the rest of the fabric trapped beneath him, and he expertly collected the material into a disheveled heap below your navel. When his dexterous fingers ghosted along the waistband of your undergarments, your next breath caught in your throat and caused you to gasp shakily. 
You felt as Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk against your spit-slick skin before sitting back on his heels to murmur, “You’re so noisy.” 
Through his lashes, he watched as a brilliant flush swept up your neck to cover your face, and you timidly tried to hide your cheeks with the back of your free hand. “S-Sorry,” you stammered, but the man above you was having absolutely none of your self-consciousness. 
Your mediocre shield was wrenched away from your face and pinned up alongside your other hand in an instant, and you blinked up at Sebastian in blatant surprise as he leaned menacingly over you. “Don’t stop,” he implored you, biting his lip as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “I love it. 
The brunet secured your wrists into one of his hands so he could drop the other one back to your aching center, swiping two of his fingers up your slit through your underwear to feel the wetness that had collected there. The sensation left you breathless, another choked gasp weaseling its way past your lips and earning a dark chuckle from Sebastian. His digits moved up to slide beneath the fabric blocking his path, and a low groan sounded from him as he felt how truly soaked you were from his efforts. Without looking away from your pinched features, he gingerly slid a single finger in, biting his lip hungrily at the way your lips parted and your head rolled to the side when he began steadily pumping in and out of you. 
When you felt his thumb begin to rub against your clit, your eyelids fluttered shut from the intense pleasure that washed over you, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “Fuck, Sebastian–”
The hand he had securely wrapped around your wrists tightened a fraction to draw your mind out of the gutter, and he roughly gritted out, “Look at me, darling– open those pretty eyes for me.” You couldn’t help but oblige him when he referred to you so sweetly, and when you cracked your eyes open once again, his body seemed to shudder with delight as he growled, “So fucking perfect. My name sounds damn good when you say it like that.”
With his gaze burning into yours and the close proximity between the two of you, you didn’t think the overwhelming euphoria you felt could get any better. That is, until he added a second finger into the mix. The initial stretch was felt only briefly before his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the persistent ministrations against your clit muting any discomfort and leaving you arching brainlessly beneath him as that hot, incessant feeling in your gut roared to life. It was tantalizing, and your hips bucked off the mattress in an attempt to chase his movements and reach the climax you were utterly desperate for. 
“Please, please,” you begged mindlessly, your desire to come so potent that it was almost painful. “Please, Sebastian, please.” 
“Already?” he tsk’d mockingly, shaking his head minutely as he eagerly wet his bottom lip and removed his thumb from your center. “I think you can hold on a bit longer, don’t you? I’d much rather end this with my cock, if it’s all the same to you.” 
The lack of friction sobered you up instantly, and the lustful haze that had clouded your mind cleared enough for you to blink blearily up at him, a small frown playing on your lips. “Really?” 
Sebastian cocked a brow at you, as though daring you to tell him he was being unreasonable. “Would you rather this end with my hands?” 
You tried to roll your hips up into his hand before relenting rather quickly, and you muttered, “F-Fine. Just hurry up, I might throttle you if I have to wait any longer.” 
Sebastian grinned wickedly at the way your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you before torturously withdrawing them. A small sigh slipped from you when he let go of your wrists and slid away to hastily begin shedding his clothing, taking care to be gentler with his glasses as he set them down on the nightstand, and once he was wholly bare before you, the only thing you could do was stare. 
His physique was mind boggling; toned, defined muscles made up every inch of his torso, accentuated by broad shoulders that you were convinced didn’t belong anywhere near someone who worked in a glorified library of all places. His skin was sun-kissed and peppered with freckles, a testament to the aforementioned physical labor he claimed to enjoy. It hadn’t made much sense to you before when he’d told you– forgoing magic to use his own hands to help fix things. But if a habit like that gave a man a body like his, you would never doubt his preferences again. 
All of Sebastian looked positively divine, including his cock. Thick, hard, and twitching tellingly, it arched proudly against his taut stomach, the head violently red and already leaking beads of pre-cum in response to the situation at hand. You swallowed thickly when you realized that that would be inside of you, and you were suddenly grateful that he’d told you to wait. Not to discredit his fingers or anything, but you had a nagging feeling that you would enjoy his lower parts far more than his hands. 
Ignoring the nervousness that settled in your stomach, you sat up to quickly pull the sleeves of your dress down your arms, wriggling out of the attire quickly before throwing the bunched up material to the floor. As you reached down to slide your underwear off, Sebastian returned to kneel in front of you and stopped you by lightly pushing you flat against the pillows, then ran his hands along the plane of your stomach. 
“Allow me,” he said chivalrously, taking care to gently slip his fingers under the waistband and sensually remove the material entirely. With nothing else separating you from him, Sebastian took his time eating you alive with his eyes, letting his hands drag up your thighs and squeeze at your knees before pushing your legs apart so he had space to siddle forward. The blunt head of his cock bumped against your slick cunt, and a barely there shudder ran down your spine in anticipation. 
It took a good amount of self-control for you to let Sebastian press into you achingly slow, his eyes pinching shut while his teeth savaged his bottom lip, and when he was finally sheathed inside of you fully, the brunet was practically shaking with the desire to fuck your brains out. He waited, though, his palms sliding from your knees to your upper thighs to dig his fingers into the skin there, raking his hungry gaze over you while he gave you a moment to adjust. 
You appreciated the sentiment, because Merlin– he was big. It was impossible to overlook every delicious inch of him pressing against your inner walls, the subtle grinding of his hips stretching you out more and more to the point where your breath continuously caught in your throat. It felt good, though. Good enough to leave you wondering why you’d never sought him out when the two of you were still in school together. 
At some point, however, you realized Sebastian was fucking with you. It probably had something to do with the repetitive, shallow thrusts he teased you with, and when you craned your neck up to look at him, he was already staring at you with a wide grin splitting his face, his tongue poking out between his teeth. 
“W-What?” you grumbled, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Are you going to make me beg or something? I already said please.” 
“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” Sebastian said, rocking his hips just enough to leave you arching towards him. “You look like you’re trying really hard to keep it together. It’s cute.” 
“I’m flattered,” you breathed out around an airy laugh, then wriggled your hips down in an attempt to bait the Archivist into moving. Mercifully, it worked. 
Sebastian gave a throaty moan, leaning forward to brace one hand on the side of your waist while the other gripped at your thigh tighter, and he withdrew his cock languidly before plunging back in. Your breathing hitched and your head fell back against the pillows at the abrupt sensation, and the sight of you so obviously enthralled by his efforts was what expelled the remainder of his patience. 
Holding onto your thigh with bruising strength, Sebastian fell into a steady, toe-curling pace. He pulled you onto his cock with every deep plunge, digging his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts, and his reward was the sound of your shaky voice reverberating off of the bedroom walls as your spine rounded. You keened loudly, overcome with both the feeling and the sight of Sebastian– because not only was he deceptively good at rendering your mind into a puddle of mush, he looked amazing while he was doing it. The muscles in his arms rippled as he supported himself above you, his brown curls falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his sculpted shoulders, and when your arousal had you clamping down on his cock harder, those full, kissable lips of his fell open around a guttural groan. 
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grit out through his clenched teeth, gazing down at you with lust-dark eyes that made your blood burn hot in your veins. “So bloody gorgeous– like a fucking work of art.”
His praises left you whining in earnest, and you didn’t bother to keep your voice down in the slightest. With every sinful noise that escaped you, Sebastian’s hold on you seemed to intensify, and his thick cock filled you harder with every desperate pump of his hips. His ragged breathing left you craving more of him– all of him– and you rutted against him as much as was physically possible in a bid to take him deeper. 
Sebastian picked up on your desires wordlessly, and he shifted his hold on your thigh so his hand was looped around it to better pull it to the side, giving him the room he needed to spear into you with wicked precision. It also allowed him to discover what you sounded like crying out for more, your voice reedy and strident within the four walls of the bedroom, and when he shifted his hips down to achieve new depths, your moans echoed around him. He had to be hitting a good spot. 
“Right there, Sebastian, fuck– right there–” 
Your lower half was positively shaking, and Sebastian was honestly at his limit. He sat up momentarily before grabbing both of your legs, watching as you blearily tried to figure out what was going on while he pulled your knees over his shoulders. Moving over you swiftly and urgently, he bent you back and rammed his thick cock back into your tight heat, animalistic grunts sounding from him as you arched tight and cried out, but you were barely given the space to breathe before he was fucking you hard– hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left screaming and gasping helplessly at the sheets. 
Sebastian pinned you to the bed and pounded into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands grasped at the sweaty, flushed skin of your waist, pulling you close while he filled you over and over and drank in your noisy pleas for more until your back was arching clear off the bed and your thighs were shaking. You were barely holding on, your climax from earlier roaring back to life in your gut and rendering your tongue a lead weight in your mouth.
Forming words was damn near impossible, but you still managed to babble out, “Like that, Sebastian, fuck, just like that– I’m close– please, I’m–”
He obliged you instantly, keeping up his pace while he brought his hand between your legs to thumb over your bundle of nerves, his hips angling upwards with every deep, precise plunge. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched through your slitted eyes as he bent forward to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips, swallowing your breathy whines with a satisfied expression playing over his face. “Come on, darling. Let’s hear how you sound falling apart on my cock, yeah?” 
As if you even needed the encouragement. 
Every muscle in your body tensed as a wave of unparalleled ecstasy crashed over you, and your hands flew to Sebastian’s shoulders to absentmindedly attempt to grasp at something to ground yourself. His movements didn’t stop as you writhed beneath him– milking every possible noise out of you with unconcealed fervor– and it was only when you sagged into the sheets twitching and whimpering that Sebastian let your legs drop to the sides so he could wrap his arms around you to give you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming too, your name tumbling over his lips as he fell alongside you. 
“Fuck,” Sebastian murmured directly beside your ear, still draped in a boneless heap on top of you as you trembled against him. One of your hands slid up to bury your fingers in his tangled curls, and you mumbled something unintelligibly into the crook of his neck. He pulled back slightly to hear you better, “What?” 
Your eyes were still glazed over as you came down from your post-coital high, “Are the Archives chock-full of sex books or something?” 
Sebastian smirked tiredly at you, pulling out gently before collapsing beside you with his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. “One or two. Why?” 
You stared up at the ceiling in a daze and shook your head softly to yourself, “Because you’re a little too good at that. It’s kind of scary.”
“Good scary or bad scary?” 
“Good scary,” you clarified, turning over so you could face the brunet and smile softly at him. The way his entire face lit up at the sight of you would live on in your mind for years to come, you were sure, so you wistfully said, “We should do this again sometime.” 
Sebastian paused, leaving you worried for a short second until he wriggled in a way that let him press his hard cock against your stomach, and he closed the distance between the two of you to give you a chaste kiss on your nose before grinning mischievously. “Like right now?” 
You raised your eyebrows in silent surprise before laughing playfully, rolling over onto him before taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. It was a sweet moment– tender, affectionate, and heartwarming. It only ceased when you let go of his cheeks to move down his larger body, already itching to put your hands to better use. 
The only thing that stopped Sebastian from staying holed up within the warm, comfortable confines of your bedroom with you forever was the imminent arrival of Monday, but Saturday and Sunday were days well spent. You were rather disappointed when your time together came to an end– enough so that you actually pouted when Sebastian had slid out from beneath the covers to get ready for work. Thankfully though, the Archivist was as unwilling as you were to call it quits after everything, and following a heated, lengthy kiss, he promised to come back as soon as he was able. 
It only took him eight hours to find himself back in your bed, but you knew then that it would be impossible to stay away from him for very long from here on out. 
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bluewolfangel01 · 3 months
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How the brothers make sure you're safe in the Devildom: Older Bros edition
Lucifer
Papa Luci mode activated
He has to know where you are or where you're going if you want to go out
It doesn't matter to him that you have 7 of the most powerful demons under your command or that you're training under humanity's most power sorcerer
You are required to have someone with you when traveling anywhere in the Devildom
If he doesn't know where you are, for some reason, he while be doing everything he can just to figure out your location
Of course he isn't going to panic just yet mind you, he'll first ask his brothers if they know where you are
Ex. he makes Levi track your phone or asks Mammon to locate you via crow familiar
If none of them know, then he's going to ask the dateables and side characters
And if they don't know?
He (and the everybody else of course) are going to tear the Devildom apart to make sure that you're okay
And if you are not? May Father have mercy on whoever dared to lay a finger on you cause Lucifer won't
If he starts getting on your nerves about always having to know a general area of where you are, don't hold it against him to much
He just doesn't want you to get hurt, cause if you were you'd have a very said and pissed off Luci on your hands
Mammon
Two words: Crow familiar
Around when you made a pact with him, he gave you a crow familiar
He claimed that it was to make sure he didn't have to deal with Lucifer's punishment if you ever died or even got hurt
Don't let him fool you, that man just wants to make sure you're safe cause he cares about you so much
He has so many crows he sadly can't keep track of ALL their names, so he let's you name yours
The crow will of course love you to bits and do things for you because of his connection to Mammon and cause you treat them so nice
Pls have some seeds on you, the crow will adore you even more if you do
Whenever your out the crow will follow and watch you from a distance or maybe even close by depending on how big the crowds are
If you're ever in trouble and can't handle it (or even if you can) the crow network is put into use to alert Mammon
The second he is told he drops whatever it is that he's doing and he's rushing to get to you no matter what
He'd take out the threat so fast, you blink and it's gone and in its place is Mammon
He's smiling at you and saying how he just so happened to be in the neighborhood
Whatever the threat was seems to have disappeared and Mammon leads you away saying how he wants to show you something he wants to buy nearby
But if you listen closely, you can hear a series of loud caws coming around the area you were just at
Simp
Levithan
Although he doesn't go out of his room much, that doesn't mean that he can't protect you from the outside
Like previously mentioned, there's a tracker on your phone (all the brothers have the same on theirs, don't feel bad)
The only reason he checks it is either because Lucifer asked him or it's been a bit since he's seen or talked to you and wants to know that you're okay
The other way he protects you is checking online and keeping a lookout for any potential threats or nefarious plans against you
He won't intervene unless said people seem to be very serious or actually putting their plan into motion
If such a plan is in motion, he warns the rest of his brothers
No matter what arises if he either ends up stopping or warning the others about there's always the same result
Anything they want online, somehow they can't find it anywhere
They want to simply look about the internet? They best be prepared for all the pop up adds and bugs imaginable
Levi is making sure they never even think about hurting you ever again
This turned out longer then I originally thought it would be.... I promise to write about the other brothers!
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saintodo · 13 days
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thots: bodyguard!nanami
♡ note: omg hi........i haven't written anything ns/fw in actual ages. pls be nice, im rusty <3 i hope you like it tho
♡ pairing: nanami kento x gn reader
♡ word count: 2.7k
♡ tags: bodyguard!au, gender neutral reader, violence / situation where reader's life is in danger (but nothing happens), reader's a tease, fingering (reader receiving)
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♡ bodyguard!nanami makes a strong first impression when your father introduces him to you. you’ve had bodyguards in the past- a necessity your father insisted due to his line of work- but none quite as handsome as nanami. he’s even more alluring when he speaks, first to your father and then to you, promising to keep you safe as he gives you a short bow.
♡ bodyguard!nanami, you quickly realize takes his job very seriously. maybe, even too seriously. (definitely, too seriously.) he’s handsome, you’ll give him that, but you do find it mildly irritating how he’s always hovering and how he never indulges in your attempts at making conversation, citing that his number one priority is making sure that you are safe not making idle chit chat. what a buzzkill.
♡ bodyguard!nanami who you're nearly at your wits end with. the constant hovering but no speaking is making you feel suffocated in a way that you haven't felt with your bodyguards in the past, and you can feel your patience slipping. you're just about to lose your temper and blow up at nanami until a situation takes place where your life becomes endangered. your blood runs cold and fear fills your veins when the venue you're in randomly bursts into chaos. the mayhem causes you to become disoriented, but nanami is quick to be at your side, placing himself between you and what he perceives to be the threat in the room. his hand is steady against your lower back as he urges you forward in the direction of the nearest exit. you allow him to lead you, mind still muddled and confused, until you're forcibly stopped in your tracks when some unknown assailant attacks you. your heart seizes in your chest.
♡ bodyguard!nanami seamlessly moves from your side to your front, grunting as he takes the blow that was meant for you. you stagger backwards, wanting to put space between you and the fight happening before your eyes. you feel stuck, both figuratively and literally, as if you're unable to do anything but watch as nanami exchanges blows with the man who attempted to hit you. (who attempted to kill you, your mind helpfully supplies.) you flinch every time you hear contact being made, but your body eases the slightest bit when it's nanami's fist connecting with the attacker's body and not the other way around. you jump when the man finally drops to the floor after nanami knocks him unconscious with one final strike to the jaw.
♡ bodyguard!nanami brings you back down to earth and out of your dazed state when he places a hand on your shoulder. he lifts his hand to hover over your shoulder when he sees you flinch from the touch. "we need to go,” he states, guiding you once more in the direction of the exit. this time, there is no one who blocks your path.
♡ bodyguard!nanami ensures that the area he's led you to is completely safe before informing you that you are no longer in danger. he rushes to your side when you suddenly crumple to the floor. you gasp for air and grip at your chest, emotion overwhelming you now that you’re out of that godforsaken room. although you’ve had a bodyguard ever since you were a child, it was just as a precaution. you’ve never been in a such a frightening situation where your life was at risk. “i could have died,” you manage to say between your quickening breaths for air. “i could have died,” you repeat, the severity of the situation sinking in. you twist your body to face nanami, desperately gripping at his arm like a lifeline.
♡ bodyguard!nanami regards you calmly but not unkindly. “yes, you could have died,” he acknowledges. your breath quickens more. “but,” he continues, gently laying a hand over the back of your own. you’re too strung up to be taken aback by the unexpected gesture. “you did not. you are safe now,” nanami says. “the men who aimed to harm you will be arrested and punished accordingly. they cannot and will not hurt you. you are safe now,” nanami repeats once more. upon hearing nanami’s reassurance, the tension around your heart eases a bit and your breathing slows to a more regular pace. as you start to calm, you become all too aware of how you’re still holding onto nanami’s arm and how he’s rubbing gentle circles into the back of your hand. hastily, you draw your hand back and rush to stand up once more. you’re unable to look at nanami as you thank him (for comforting you or for saving you? both, you suppose). he only replies that he was doing his job. you don’t know why your heart sinks a little upon hearing that.
♡ bodyguard!nanami whom you begin to develop a bit of crush on from that point forward. you’ve considered him attractive since your first meeting, but now you take more notice of him. yes, you once regarded him as a slight nuisance before, but you are incredibly thankful for his presence (and slight hovering) because it provides you the perfect opportunity to ogle him. your eyes frequently rove over his body, trying to commit everything to memory. your eyes may linger a bit too long on his hands, wondering to yourself how skilled he may be with them. you do your best to be discreet when you’re checking him out, but you might have a bit of a staring problem and a difficulty with turning your head away fast enough to not get completely caught. you shrug it off, hoping that nanami didn’t see you blatantly staring at him, but then again, it’s not your fault that he’s hot, so really, you’re not to blame.
♡ bodyguard!nanami whom you try to flirt with after you decide that staring isn’t getting you anywhere. too bad, talking to nanami is like talking to a brick wall. he hasn’t changed much in the time he’s been assigned as your bodyguard, always prioritizing your safety over making conversation. it’s annoying when you’re trying to get to know the man, but at the same time, it’s comforting for you to know that he takes your well-being seriously. you just wish he would loosen up a little.
♡ bodyguard!nanami who you think isn’t getting the fucking hint, so you decide to escalate things a little more. you begin wearing shorter, tighter clothing that hugs you in all the right ways and shows a bit more skin than usual. you begin having to bend over more right in front of nanami because you accidentally dropped something or you need to grab something from a low shelf. if your underwear happens to peak through from your clothing, that’s entirely by coincidence and has nothing to do with you.
♡ bodyguard!nanami knows what you’re doing because he would have to be an idiot not to. you’re not very discreet when you check him out and your current antics are an obvious ploy at trying to provoke him into action. he can’t lie and say that he doesn’t find you very attractive, but it would be wrong of him to do anything as your bodyguard, someone tasked with the mission of ensuring your safety. however, you have admittedly been tempting nanami very much recently that he’s felt the need to jack off during his showers to try and relieve himself and pull himself together. unfortunately, it’s not working very well for him when all he thinks about is you and your pretty face when he spills into his hand. fuck.
♡ bodyguard!nanami who thinks it’s going to be another normal night he spends stationed outside of your bedroom until he begins to hear noises coming from behind your bedroom door. he’s mildly concerned until he listens more closely and realizes that the noises are sounds of pleasure— stifled moans and mewls that are more than audible in the quiet of the night. nanami clears his throat, trying to not let the newfound knowledge that you’re touching yourself only a door away affect him. he quickly rearranges himself in his slacks, hoping that nobody comes across the hall to see the way he’s growing hard. it would be very unbecoming of him.
♡ bodyguard!nanami who finally gives into temptation when he hears you moan his name. he thinks it's a mistake at first- perhaps, he imagined it- but when he hears you repeat his name once more, he decides that he can't resist the siren's call any longer.
♡ bodyguard!nanami's hand hovers over the doorknob of your bedroom door as he wrestles with his conscience, debating on whether or not he should really go through with this. it only takes hearing another moan falling from your lips to compel nanami to turn the doorknob and push your door ajar. you don't even notice him at first, too caught up in pleasuring yourself to realize that you have an audience. it's only when nanami closes the door, making sure to lock it behind him so no one will disturb you two, and moves closer to your bedside that you finally take notice that you have company. “n-nanami?” you stutter, hastily trying to cover yourself as you move to sit up. “what are you doing in here?”
♡ bodyguard!nanami prevents you from doing so, reaching out and circling your wrist with a loose grip. shock overcomes you at nanami’s sudden action causing your hand to go slack and the light blanket in your grasp to fall and pool around your waist. nanami sharply inhales when your bare form is revealed to him. he averts his gaze from your body to settle on your face, but not before catching the wetness gathered between your thighs and the stickiness collected on your fingertips. his hardness is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. he clears his throat. “you called for me, did you not?”
♡ bodyguard!nanami who raises a brow when you laugh nervously. you are well aware of how loud you were just moments ago, purposefully not holding back your reactions since you knew nanami was within ear shot. as much as you hoped you would spur him into action by saying his name while masturbating, you didn’t think it would actually work with how unbearably stubborn he’s proven himself to be.
♡ bodyguard!nanami sighs, releasing his grip on your wrist at your lack of a proper response. this was a lapse of judgment for him, rushing into your room like some sort of mad man. “i apologize, i shouldn’t have barged in here. i’ll leave you be,” he stiffly says, readying himself to return to his post outside your bedroom door. the growing hardness in his pants may prove to be a problem, but he hopes he can will it away sooner rather than later.
♡ bodyguard!nanami does not manage to get far, only able to pivot on foot to take his leave before you're reaching across and tugging on his wrist. he can feel the tackiness of your arousal on your fingertips, leaving an imprint on his skin. "don't go," you blurt out, now sitting up on your knees. in your scramble, the light blanket that once preserved some of your modesty has fallen completely away. you visibly fluster when nanami turns his attention fully onto you. the intensity of his gaze makes you squeeze your thighs together, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. it feels like nothing does. you continue on. "i want you," you breathe out. "i want you so bad." the last threads of nanami's restraint unravels completely upon hearing those words.
♡ bodyguard!nanami uses both of his hands to cup your face as he engulfs your lips with his own. he swallows down the noise of surprise you initially make and the moan that quickly follows after. now that nanami's gotten a taste of you, he's unsure that he'll be able to maintain the professional boundaries between you that he once strictly enforced. he's already trampled all over those boundaries at this point. his knees hit the mattress as he guides you to lie back down on your mound of pillows. he groans into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip and slip your tongue inside. you tangle your hands in his hair, loosening blond strands from the neat part that nanami usually styles them into. your hands don't stay in one place for long, and nanami's abs tighten when you run your palms over the front of his button down shirt.
♡ bodyguard!nanami grunts when you suddenly cup his bulge, giving it a firm squeeze over his slacks that are bordering on painfully tight. nanami leans back slightly, planting his hands on the bed beside your face to support himself up. your breaths mingle in the space between you, and your chest heaves in a way that nanami finds incredibly alluring. "how do you want me?" nanami asks, voice rough with desire.
♡ bodyguard!nanami easily allows you to take one of his hands and guide it to the space between your thighs. "want you here," you breathily say, eyes lidded. pre leaks from nanami's cock when he feels the sheer amount of wetness that's gathered there. a little kissing has you all worked up? nanami can't say anything. it's not like he's faring any better. "you're dripping," he murmurs, collecting your arousal on his fingers. your hips lift on their own accord, instinctively seeking out his touch and the pleasure that it could bring you. "you like my hands, don't you? you like to think you're discreet, but i've seen the way your eyes linger. you've probably imagined what i could do with them." he presses his fingers against your entrance, watching intently as it clenches around nothing. "what i could do to you."
♡ bodyguard!nanami is mesmerized by the way his fingers slip inside of you. one right after another until he's three fingers deep. it's a tight fit at first, your hole stretching and struggling to accommodate the thickness of his fingers, but after a few shallow thrusts, your body relaxes, going pliant. your arousal allows for the easy glide of nanami's fingers in and out of you as he builds up to a steady rhythm. "fuck, that feels so good, nanami," you whine, pushing yourself further down on his fingers.
♡ bodyguard!nanami presses his palm down onto your stomach, preventing you from squirming too much. "just relax," he tells you, "let me do all the work." he waits until you settle back against the mattress before resuming. instead of the steady rhythm that nanami had built up to before, he quickens his pace, beginning to fuck you on his fingers in earnest. the change in speed has you moaning loudly, and the sound has blood rushing to nanami's cock.
♡ bodyguard!nanami is painfully hard at this point, but he ignores it in favor of the captivating sight laid out before him. you're writhing against the bed, fingers continuously twisting in the sheets as you fail to keep still like nanami asked. your kiss-bitten lips lay parted as soft hiccups and mewls escape you over and over again. the wet squelching sounds of nanami's fingers moving in and out of you fill the air, accompanying the sounds of your pleasure.
♡ bodyguard!nanami can tell when you're nearly on the verge of cumming. a slight change in the positioning of his fingers draws a ragged gasp from you. sensing that you're close, nanami fucks you fast and deep on his fingers, intent on seeing you come apart for him. you fist the sheets, burying the side of your face into your pillow. a line of drool leaks from the corner of your mouth. your back arches off the bed beautifully when you cum, your hole tightening around nanami's fingers and greedily sucking him in. he fucks you through your orgasm with shallow thrusts of his fingers, guiding you through the waves of pleasure that curl and crest over you. once you're whining from overstimulation, nanami removes his fingers from your hole with a lewd wet pop as you attempt to catch your breath and regain your bearings.
♡ bodyguard!nanami cannot help the huff of laughter that forces itself past his lips when you give him a dazed look and a syrupy smile and say "fuck, i knew you would be good with your hands."
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rafesaddiction · 10 months
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The tight end (or: Football Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Summary: You need to study for your exams and Rafe wants to watch the football game with his friends. Studying is boring and you need a little help from the boys. Rafe is not pleased.
Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, spanking, rough sex, p in v, semi-public sex (they can hear you), fingering (they sure can see that), possessiveness, kinda size kink cause rafe is big, bratty!reader, grumpy!rafe, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, amused!barry, curious!kelce, i-can't-with-this!topper
Word count: 1.5k
Tagging @dream-pink , @dope-trope-105 since this is most definitely Rafe Cameron smut. Enjoy!
a/n This is none of the stuff I said I was working on, just something short to indulge myself. Something light and fun. It kinda takes place in the same “universe” as Hole Practice, but it's not part 2. Comments, reblogs and likes are more than welcome. They keep me from going insane. Go Panthers!
“Gonna get myself another beer,” Rafe groaned as he lifted himself of the la-z-boy.
“Might need something stronger to suffer through this shit show.”
He looked at Barry who had made the comment and was pointing at the tv screen with his beer bottle.
On the screen the Panthers were literally fucked up the ass. And they deserved it as they delivered their worst performance ever. This game really sucked. Rafe hadn't bet any money, but he took it kinda personal when his favorite team performed this shitty. It totally ruined his mood. To be fair, it didn’t take much to ruin Rafe's mood, but this was like in the top 20 of mood-ruining events. And this was supposed to be a nice relaxing evening, watching the game with his friends. Yeah, Barry was now officially one of his friends and none of Rafe's kook friends ever doubted his status – if they had, that would totally have ruined Rafe's mood.
“While you're at it, pretty boy, fetch me another one too,” Barry shook his half-empty bottle and grinned at Rafe, who had stopped on his way to leave the living room.
“Anything else I can do for you?” Rafe said in a sarcastic tone, frowning.
“You have some of these tiny snack bites? Diced cheese with a toothpick?”
Rafe shot Barry a deathly glare, who just chuckled.
“Uhm, I'd like another beer, please,” Topper's voice came from the left and Rafe's head spun around, making the blond shrink into the couch and mumble some sort of apology. Next to him, Kelce snickered.
Frowning, clenching his jaws, Rafe went to the kitchen – without killing one of his friends, yet.
Still frowning, Rafe rummaged through the fridge to get four bottles of beer. There were actually some cheese bits, which he left there, but he took a bag of chips out of the pantry, and returned to the living room.
And stopped in the doorway, almost dropping the beer at the sight of you sitting on the armrest of Barry's la-z-boy. You had your back to Rafe and were obviously engaged in some very intense conversation with Barry. You had drawn up your legs and were kinda kneeling sideways on the armrest. You wore one of Rafe's t-shirts, too big for you, but barely covering your ass. Your legs were naked – apart from the cat paw socks you wore.
“What are you doing here?”
You were not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be upstairs, studying for your upcoming exam. You were definitely not supposed to be cuddling up to Barry.
Rafe was fuming as you craned your head back to him and gazed at him with innocent eyes.
When you saw him, a sweet smile appeared on your face.
“Hi, Rafey.” Rafe flinched at the hideous nickname, but you continued speaking. “I was looking for you. I needed some help with opening a water bottle and Barry was so nice to help me.”
Barry sat up, looking at Rafe, winking at him and showing said water bottle.
“Always a pleasure to help a damsel in distress,” he said, his gold tooth showing as he grinned at Rafe whose face had turned red by now, his features tensed up, his nostrils flaring.
“And now he’s telling me all about the tight end.”
You smiled.
Barry grinned.
Kelce snickered.
Topper choked.
Rafe growled.
“Upstairs. Now.”
“But –” you turned towards Rafe, your feet dangling from the armrest, you looked up at him, pouting.
“Now!” Rafe barked and you flinched.
Having put the bottles and chips on the coffee table, Rafe walked up to you, grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder and carried you with him, despite your squealing protests.
Rafe sat you down on the kitchen island. You looked at him, with big eyes and sulky lips. His hands rested on either side of you.
“The fuck were you doing? I specifically told you not to come downstairs!”
He glared at you through narrowed eyes, tilting his head to the side.
You lowered your gaze, your fingers playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing.
“I was bored,” you admitted in a soft voice. Then you looked up, just with your eyes, meeting his.
“Please don't be mad at me,” you nibbled on your bottom lip, effectively directing his gaze. Then your lips parted, you breathed out and he saw the corners of your mouth twitch. “Rafey…”
He let out an angry growl, grabbed you, flipped you around and you squealed as your chest was pressed down on the hard surface of the kitchen island. Rafe shoved up your t-shirt and his hand hit your butt, only covered by your pink lace panties.
“Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That. Again!” Rafe growled between gritted teeth and each word was accompanied by a slap on your ass.
You cried out, then tried to muffle your cries and whimpers by covering your mouth with both your hands, as Rafe gave your ass a very thorough spanking. He didn't care that your whining and crying could surely be heard in the living room as he hadn't bothered to close any of the doors.
One hand holding you down as you tried to wriggle your way out, while his other hand mercilessly slapped your ass and thighs, leaving marks in the form of his hand print.
His palm started burning and your skin must have felt as if in flames by now.
He was panting heavily behind you, his eyes on your ass as he pulled down your panties. He noticed the soaking wet stain and his hard cock twitched inside his pants.
You were a whimpering mess, your body trembling and only focused on the burning sensation his hand had caused, or you would have noticed what he was up to and you would surely have complained that you were still too sore from when Rafe had fucked you under the shower this morning.
You cried out as he pushed his hard cock into your tight pussy. He growled as he felt your walls clamping around him. He gave your already sore ass another slap, then started thrusting into you in a relentless rhythm, deep and hard, punishing you by using your body to satisfy his own needs. Your cries turned into whimpering sounds as he gave you what your body so desperately craved for.
Whatever you tried to say came out as a whining noise. His name was the only intelligible word you were able to utter.
“Rafe,” you cried.
“Rafe,” you moaned.
“Rafe,” you begged.
He grabbed the back of your neck, pulled you up, made you turn your head and his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, devouring and bruising. He felt you clench so hard around him and moaning into his mouth as you came around him. Pushing your trembling chest flush against the surface, he fucked you through that orgasm, savoring your heated body's uncontrolled convulsing, your shameless moaning and enjoying knowing that he did this to you, that he was the only one who made you feel this way.
Rafe came with a groan, his cock buried up to the hilt inside your soaking pussy, filling you with his hot cum. He felt how you tensed up at the sensation and your walls clenched, milking him.
When he pulled out, you whimpered.
“Shhh…” He caressed your back as he cleaned you with a kitchen towel and put your panties back on.
Rafe cradled you into his arms and carried you back to the living room.
Barry chuckled, but didn't say a word as Rafe shot him a menacing glance.
Rafe reclined in his chair and you cuddled up to him, burying your face at his heaving chest. You were still trembling, your legs drawn up to your own chest and you were clinging to Rafe, when he caressed your back with one hand, the other hand holding a beer bottle as he focused on the screen again where the Panthers had somehow managed to turn the game around.
Rafe's hand trailed along your thigh and you flinched. You pressed your mouth against his chest and he heard you whimper as his fingers brushed over the sore skin. And not only he could hear your little whining sounds has he grabbed your ass.
Barry looked at you from the corner of his eyes and then grinned at Rafe, slightly shaking his head, lifting his bottle to drink.
Kelce licked his lips as his eyes moved over your body.
Topper stared at the tv screen, clutching his bottle so hard, his knuckles turned white.
Rafe’s hand shoved your shirt up, rubbed over your bruised cheek. His fingertips pushed your panties to the side and slid between your folds, eliciting a sweet mewling sound from your lips.
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justagirlwholikesadam · 8 months
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Hard Ren
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Porn Star! Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader
Summary: Hard Ren is known for not cumming during his scenes until now.
A/N: I'm biting on the bars of my enclose while i write this.
Warning: NSFW, spitting, choking, role playing, rough, happy ending, ladies we are porn stars too!
Word Count: 3.3K
Border Credit: @cafekitsune
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Anyone who watches porn knows who Hard Ren is. 
Hard Ren is known to have stamina like a fucking animal. He fucks like one and he’s good at it but what he is worldly known for is he never cums when he fucks. When he does cum it’s only when he’s masturbating.
Yeah, a porn star who doesn’t cum when fucking other people. Hard Ren has done interviews about it. He jokes about it and tells them that his cock hasn’t found the right person yet. This sparks something with the female porn star community because they all want to make him cum. None of them ever succeeded. 
“Kylo.” The dark haired man looked up from his phone when his manager, Hux stopped the car. 
“We’re here.” Kylo follows Hux out of the car and into the studio to his dressing room. Kylo performs his usual preparation before filming. 200 pushup and crutches. He curls his 150 pounds dumbbells along with lifting his barbell while Hux tells him more about the person he’s going to fuck. Kylo was in the middle of a rep when he heard Hux mumbling the name of the porn star. 
“What’s her name again?” 
“She’s new, you probably haven’t heard of her but she has a fan base already. Not ugly like the last one” Hux told him while typing on his phone. 
Finishing his usual preparation and getting dressed with the clothes laid out for him, Hux walks with him to the set. Kylo was fixing the sleeves of his blue jean button down shirt. He goes into the mind set as a teacher, that was the script. He's done this multiple times, he plays the college professor and the girl plays the student looking for extra credit. 
His head shot up when he heard laughter. Director Phasma is standing next to a woman. Phasma is showing her the story board with a pleased look. When he saw you, he’s starstruck, since you were the one that he watches when he does his masturbating videos. He plays it cool, of course but the moment you give you a smile. His cock is already hard. His most viewed video of him masturbating was thanks to you. He came on his chest to the video of you on a bed with your legs spread and your cunt of full display. He liked your moans and how you pout while playing with yourself. 
“I like your work.” You tell him as Hux and Phasma speak on the set. You look up at the 6’3 dark haired man while playing with your fingers nervously. 
Excitement ran up and down your body at the sight of him. “I like yours too.” 
You smile at his words. He runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “Especially the one with you on the bed.” 
"There's a lot of me on the bed." You said jokingly and he laughs. "I like them all." 
You blush at his words. He had seen your work. When the camera was ready, you and him got into place. 
“Please, Professor Hard Ren. I need this extra credit. I won’t pass the semester.” You begged him as you walked towards him. Ren was leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed around his chest. You played with the bottom button of his shirt
“There might be something you can do for me.” Ren said, wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to him. 
“I’ll do anything.” You whispered as he leaned down, his large hands pulling the dress up to your hips. 
“Anything?” He asks as he cups your ass, giving it a good and hard squeeze for the camera, making you moan. He pulls you close to his chest as he tugs the thong to the side. 
“Fuck.” You hear him whisper.
About to do what you do best, you start to tug on his belt. Ren leans back when he notices what you were doing. He helps you while you unzip the black slack and goes down on your knees in front of him. Your mouth drops open as you stare up at him as you pull the slacks down to his ankles. He’s in full commando, and his cock almost smacks you in the face if you haven’t caught it first. His cock was thick and pink, his fat head is begging to be licked. 
Ren groans at the sight of your little pink tongue licking his cock. He grips the edge of the desk when you spit on his cock and start to use your spit as lube to start jerking him off with both hands. He tries his best to not shut his eyes because he wants to see you. He wants to see the moment you put his fat cock inside that little mouth. 
He moans out loud when you start to suck his cock, gagging, his thick girth stretching your mouth. 
“Fuckk.” Ren moans when he starts to move his hips forward, he uses a hand to hold the back of your head. He feels his balls tighten up when he sees your eyes filling up with tears. His thighs are wet from the drool and spit. He can see the spit dripping off the corner of your mouth. 
“Yes, gonna give you a good grade. Keep sucking you teacher's cock.” He tells you as you bob your head up and down on his cock. He sees your pretty face start to turn red and he pulls you off of his cock. He grabs his cock and pats it against your cheek then trace your lips with the head of his cock. 
“Open your mouth, show me that fucking tongue.” You obey and he taps the head of his cock on your tongue. 
“You’re so fucking hot. You know that.” Ren leans down to take your arms. Helping you up, you were shocked when he cups your cheek, bringing your face up close to him. He kisses you while he gently pushes against the desk making you sit on the edge
You look at him with wide eyes when he pulls away from your lips. He takes his shoes off and removes his pants as well. For a moment you forget about the camera when he takes his shirt off. He looks so good on video but in person, this man was sculpted. You can see every beauty mark on his skin. Looking at his abs, you looked further down, passing the light happy trail, you can see a vein aiming down to his cock. It took all the strength in you to not throw yourself in the ground to lick it. His cock stood out, proud and hard. 
He gets near you, grabbing you by the chin and kisses you again. He makes you spread your legs, pushing the dress up. He lets the camera panel over at your pussy when he pushes the thong to the side. Running his thick fingers run up and down your slick slit.
You don’t even pay attention to the camera behind him. His thick fingers rub your clit making you moan as he kneels down in front of your cunt. You feel those thick fingers slide into you.
He’s a messy and fast eater when it comes to pussy, he knows it but right now. He takes his time, he sees your cunt so many times while he comes. He couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. Looking so pretty with legs spread and your pussy practically pulsing. He kisses your mound enjoying the scent of your musk. He grins at the sound of you gasp when his nose hits your clit. He presses his lips against your lips. Licking your slick, he gets hard by how good you taste. 
He grins against your cunt when moan loudly. Your moans are heavenly to him, it sounds real and not fake as the others. He feels your fingers through his hair as you gently push his face against your cunt. Ren is pumping himself as he licks your cunt, he savors your taste. He looks up when he hears you call for him. He feels his heart flip inside his ribcage when you look down at him. He whines when your hand on his hair goes down to cup his face. Ren doesn't let you speak, he quickly stands up from his knees to kiss you.
You look over his shoulder when he starts to kiss your neck. Phasma waves her hand at you, signaling you that it's fine you didn't have to say your line. You couldn’t do it even if you tried. Ren was taking control, removing your dress for you. 
“Prettiest fucking tits.” He says as he leans down to kiss your breast. You blush when he practically pulls the desk close to him so he can get near you. 
“I want to fuck you so bad.” He says as he looks at you, his hands grab a hold of your hips, spreading your legs open. 
“You can.” You told him looking up at him with a smirk, batting your eyelashes. 
“I’ll do anything for a good grade, Professor Ren.” You said as your hands grabbed his throbbing cock, slowly jerking him off, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb. 
“Jesus Christ.” Ren moans when you use the other hand to grasp his balls, pulling them softly. You watched as he stood still as you kept touching him, he threw his head back, you bit your bottom lip as you watched his tense up. 
“Come here.” He tells you, you gasped when he wrapped your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picks you up from the desk and walked over the couch on the other side of the office set. You hear him whisper close to your ear, he tells you to relax, he won’t drop you. 
The camera zooms on to your ass when Ren sits down on the couch, holding you tight on his lap. His big hands grasp your ass, pulling your cheeks apart showing your holes.
“Can I ride you, please?” You asked him and he grins, nodding as he leans back a bit. He smiles when he notices the excitement on your face. Quickly getting back to work, he groans as you spit on his cock, rubbing it up and down on his shaft. 
“Just like that.” He praised you when you rose up and gently sat on his cock. His eyes never left your face, he wanted to see that look on your face when his fat cock splits you open. He bites his bottom lip when he sees your face, that same face you give to the camera when your pussy is being stuffed.
He holds your hips when you start to bounce on his cock. He thrust upward making you cry out, he grins and does it again. You place a hand on his chest, making him stay in place but Ren being much bigger than you does it again making you whine. 
“Can’t take it? Huh? Can't take your professor's big cock?” Ren asks you. He chuckles when you nod, pushing yourself on his chest then sliding back down. He grabs your arms pulling into his chest as he grunts sliding further down on the couch so the camera can go under him. 
“Good girl.” He shouts as he started thrusting upward like crazy making you moan as he fucks you hard. Your ass bounces every time he thrusted up to you. Your poor pussy being stretched wide up, the camera zooms in to see Ren’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your slick is running down his shaft to his balls. 
Your face is squished against his hard chest as he rams into you. He holds you down with one arm and the other, he brings it up to your face making him look up at you. 
His nose bumps with yours and you see him going in for a kiss. 
“You feel so good.” You whispered against his lips then kiss him. You moan when his hand grips your hair making you wince when he pulls it. 
He shakes his head, “No, you do.” He licks his lips as he continues with his thrusts. He hears you moan loudly, it sounds so soft exactly like the video he uses of you. 
“Rub your pussy for me.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. You squeal when he grabs you and pushes himself up. He lifts you and drops you on your back. The camera man moves standing behind him, zooming into your face. 
Spreading your legs wide, you’re smiling at Ren as he jerks himself off. His eyes are wide as he stares at you. He gets turned on even more by how much you're enjoying yourself, looking so pretty rubbing your cunt in front of him. You bring your knees to your chest as close as you can. Your arms go under your knees and you rub your clit, giving it soft smack making you moan. 
Your fingers don't feel as good as his, you finger yourself while looking at him. He’s staring at your cunt then back at your face. You stick your tongue out at him as you give your cunt another slap making him groan. 
You’re giddy with excitement when he comes over to you, he man handles you pushing your knees further back and lowers himself. You squeal when he smacks the head of his cock on your cunt. 
“How bad do you want an A+?” He asks you, raising a brow at you. 
“Really bad, professor. I want it. Please.” You pouted at him. 
You know he does it on purpose, he just looks down at you with a smug look on his face as he slides his cock up and down your slit painfully slowly. You huff at him and grab his cock, surprising him. 
“I want that A+, sir!” You cry out pushing his cock at your entrance. You look at him with a pleading look and Ren thinks he just died and gone to heaven. 
You keep on surprising him, taking control like that, grabbing his cock like you own it. Fuck, you practically did already. All of his masturbation videos ended with him cumming so much because he was looking at your videos. Of course the viewers didn’t know that, the cameras were always aiming at him, at his lower half. 
“I’ll give you that A. Imma fucking give it to you.” You cry out when he thrusts into your cunt in one harsh thrust. Ren doesn’t pay attention to the camera under him, all he can stare is your face, your tits bouncing by his harsh thrusts. You were losing your grip under the your legs, trying your best to keep them to your chest. 
Ren wants to feel you cum, he wants you to cum on his cock. What a dream would that he thinks to himself as he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing your slick over it. He’s rough with it, making you grin as you shut your eyes with pleasure. 
“Chock me.” You cry to him as you open your eyes to stare up at him. 
“You like that?” You nod quickly as he complies to your request. Ren groans loudly when he feels you clench around him when he grabs a hold of your neck, he can feel your heartbeat and it just makes him goes faster. 
“Oh-h-h fuck! Shit!” Ren shouts he holds the couch with one hand as he goes balls deep in you. He feels you holding his arm, his grip around your neck tighten and he throws his head back when he feels you cum. 
You are crying his name and that was it for him. It broke him completely. 
“Can-can I cum in you?” He shouts as he looks back at you. You’re staring up at him with teary eyes still feeling the hard orgasm you just had. 
“Yes.” You said meekly, he removes his hand from your neck and holds your chin. Keeping your head in place, staring up at him as he thrust into your sloppy pussy. 
In the corner of your eye, you see the director and the crew staring at both of you with wide eyes as Ren groans loudly. You can’t help but whine when he does one last harsh thrust. He moves the couch and he keeps you in place as he fills your womb with his hot milky cum. 
“F-fuck.” Ren moans as he releases your chin and slouches a bit. He cups your face as he tries to catch his breath. His thumb runs over your bottom lip and you do something that you have been craving to do since you saw his hands. Grabbing a hold of his wrist you stick his thumb in your mouth, sucking it as you stare up at him. 
He feels his knees go weak and he pulls away and sits down next to you with a grunt. He has his head throw back over the couch as he sits there, with his limp cock. 
Ren hears the camera man tell you to keep your knees to your chest. Phasma praises you and he opens his eyes to see you. You’re playing with his cum, rubbing his cum all over your cunt and mound. 
“Fuck yeah.” A crew member whispers when you scoop Ren’s cum dripping from your fucked hole up to your lips. You made a moaning sound as you tasted it, licking your lips seductively as the camera pans over to your face.
You walk out of the shower, thanking god that Phasma was a saint when it came to her workers. She had a shower installed in the dressing rooms. You really didn’t want to go home with cum dripping out of you. Your manager had applaud to you and said Hard Ren just came because of you. 
Feeling amazing after the hot shower, you got dressed with the extra clothes your manager packed for you. Fixing your hair, you grabbed your phone, looking at the recent messages from your manager. You frowned because she had sent you a message saying that she was waiting for you in the parking lot then a few seconds later. She sent you a message saying there’s a surprise for you in the parking lot. 
You didn’t think much of it. You were still tired from having sex and you were starving. You just thought she was being like this because of the accomplishment you just did.
You walked to the exit still thinking about him, Ren. He was just as handsome in his videos and his cock was something to die for. You were feeling pretty good for making him cum. He looked so fucking hot cumming. 
Pushing the door open you walked to the parking lot and frowned when you saw your manager wasn’t there. 
“Hey.” You looked over your shoulder and saw Ren leaning against the building with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s wearing different clothes as well, dark jeans with boots and a graphic tee. He had a leather jacket on and his hair was damp. 
“Hi.” You answered back and he gave you a soft smile. 
“You hungry?” He asks, throwing the cigarette on the ground after blowing a puff of smoke. 
“Starving.” You tell him as he walks towards you. He bites his bottom lip and for a moment he looks a bit shy. 
“Me too. I know a place. Wanna come with me?” You nod at him and give him a smile. You start walking with him out of the parking lot when he tells you his first name, Kylo. 
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logansdoll · 1 month
Note
begging for more dad logan please
406
Logan was always one to mind his own business, never really sticking his nose in anything unless it directly concerned him... until he heard your screams coming from next door.
CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place after Deadpool 3, heavy subjects, domestic abuse, more Logan interacting with kids (or rather kid), angst with comfort, etc.
If you or a loved one are experiencing domestic abuse, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline (US) at 800-799-7233 for twenty-four hour assistance. Your voice matters <3
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"Jesus-fuckin'-Christ," Logan groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes as the loud, stumbling sound of your husband's work boots slithered through the walls.
'It's two in the goddamn morning...'
Audibly, the man bumped into a table, letting out a loud string of curses before kicking off his shoes, sending them flying into a shelf with two thumps.
No doubt making another mess for you to clean up.
Logan couldn't wrap his around someone like you ending up with an asshole like your husband.
Despite the countless other people on his floor, you were the first to greet Logan when he moved in—a pretty little thing standing in his doorway with a plate of cookies, a warm smile, and a boy no older than five clinging to her leg.
"Hi!" you greeted, instantly clocking the taut expression on his face. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your unpacking..."
"S'fine," he nodded for you to go on, rubbing the sleep out his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, purposefully blocking his messy bed from your view.
He was napping, actually.
"I just wanted to introduce myself since you're new to the floor. And bring you a little something to say we're glad to have you," you went on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Carefully, you held out the plate for him to take, the man examining at it with a suspicious eye.
"I'm (y/n), and this is my son, Caleb. We're your neighbors in 406."
Wary, but still wanting to be polite, he took the tray, eyes flitting down to the boy at your leg—the poor thing cowering further behind you under the man's sharp gaze.
You let out a small laugh, softly resting your hand in his curly hair, "He's a little shy."
Glancing back up at you, Logan's eyes suddenly locked onto the clutter of band-aids around your wrist, their formation... odd.
"What's with all the bandages?" he asked, bluntly.
Your face fell for a fraction of a second, though you quickly replaced your smile, waving him off.
"Oh, just a little kitchen accident. I can be a bit clumsy," you assured, your tone a little more distant than before.
Something in his gut told him that wasn't right.
But it was none of his business, so he dropped it, focusing his energy on the fact that you seemed to be an angel in human form, and the most persistent woman he'd ever met.
You worked as a baker at a local cafe, and often brought him leftovers or samples to eat, along with some of your own creations.
And despite his less-than-warm personality during the early days, you still kept at it; always greeting him with a warm smile and kind words.
It wasn't long before your son joined in as well, bringing over some of his comics for the two to read together on occasion.
Though not as much as a talker as you, he was still just as gentle, resting a quiet head on Logan's side as the man flatly read the latest Superman issue.
But it was when your husband would come around that things would become an issue.
Logan could hear your voice bleed through the drywall, groggily confronting the man—the words "Caleb", "Awake", and "School Tomorrow" seeming to push through the muffle.
Surprisingly, Logan had never met your husband before, the man leaving super early in the morning for work, and coming home inappropriately late at night.
And on weekends he just... wasn't around.
It was only times like this that Logan would remember he even existed.
And in that moment, he must've said something awful, because suddenly your voice was rising, becoming sharper and harsher.
'Fuckin' bastard...'
On those few off-occasions where you slipped up—missed a band-aid, wore too short of a sleeve—Logan noticed the marks.
A bruise here... a red mark there... the faint scent of peroxide.
Yet despite his frequent (frequent) questions, you seemed to always have an excuse.
Little mishap at the cafe...
I tripped over one of Caleb's toys...
Had a little trouble down the stairs...
He didn't like it one bit.
Despite your marital status, Logan felt a certain warmth bubble in his chest at the sight of you, and often found himself rereading the notes you'd leave along with the food.
And although he wasn't ready to put a name to the emotion yet, he did, however, feel a sort of innate obligation toward you and your son.
One that seemed to be coming into effect right now...
"Don't yell at Mommy!" Caleb shouted, his voice followed by the scurry of small feet.
'The hell?'
Logan quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, brows furrowing as he quickly sat up in bed.
That was the loudest he had ever heard the kid speak.
"Caleb, no! What did I tell you? Get back in bed! Mommy will be there soon!" you frantically ordered.
"What'd that little shit just say to me?!" your husband slurred, loudly, the sharp creak of the floorboard making it sound like he was lunging forward.
And with a harsh slap, followed the shattering of glass, large feet seeming to stutter backward.
"DON'T YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON HIM!" you barked, fiercely.
"You bitch!" he fired back, a large crash following.
"MOMMY!" Caleb screamed.
Logan had never thrown on a pair of jeans so fast.
He was in front of your door like magic, kicking it open with ease, eyes widening at the sight before him.
Your husband was on top of you, squeezing harshly around your neck as you vigorously fought back, Caleb frantically tugging at his father's shirt to get him off.
Quickly, Logan ran over, grabbing the bastard and tossing him over his shoulder, sending him flying across the room.
You gasped for air, Caleb fighting through sobs as he scrambled into your lap, burying his face into your chest and clutching onto your shirt for dear life.
Motherly instinct kicking in, you were quick to lift his chin, disregarding your own injuries as you checked his face, eyes watering at the bright red splotch settling on the boy's cheek.
"Oh, baby," you sniffled, burying your face in his hair and you held him close. "I'm so sorry."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Logan was absolutely going to town.
He didn't use his claws, because—as badly as he wanted to—he wasn't about to murder a man in front of his wife and child.
But that didn't mean he couldn't give the bastard a classic adamantium-boned beat down.
Slam after slam after slam, Logan didn't stop, clutching the collar of the man's jacket tightly as he made ground meat of his face.
Even as a tooth flew... even as his eye swelled shut... even as his nose crunched.
Logan only stopped went he went limp, letting the bastard drop to the ground with a thud before turning back to you two.
Slowly, and warily, he approached, not wanting to frighten you or the kid more than you already were.
He figured he looked pretty scary—blood covering his knuckles, panting, unconscious man laying in his wake.
But, to his surprise, it was actually quite the opposite.
The moment he knelt down to your level, the two of you threw your arms around him, pulling the man into a silent bear hug.
His breath hitched, not at all expecting the reaction, but he hugged back anyway, pulling you both in closer.
Caleb buried his face into Logan's side, wrapping his arms around the man's torso to the best of his little ability.
You rested your head on his shoulder, nose bloody and neck bruised as you melted against him, your hands resting softly against his bare chest.
Like a spotty drizzle, he felt a few stray tears land on his collarbone, forcing him to turn to their source, only to see you look up at him with your beautiful eyes, all glassy with relief.
'Fuck...'
How could a heart be struck with both warmth and ice at the same time?
Though, despite what he originally thought, you actually cracked a small, thankful smile, only able to muster two steady words:
"Thank you."
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taglist !!
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coff33andb00ks · 1 month
Note
vivvvv how about…
11 + 24 with lando 😊
"It's impossible to get rid of me."/"Are you awake or asleep?"
driver + number = drabble <3
maddie babe ily
warnings: disgusting perverted amount of fluff
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Lando Norris is, in his own words, a little bitch.
Granted, he said those words when he was drunk and a moth flew too close to his face, but you'll never let him forget that he uttered them.
Nor will you let him forget you have video of him screaming in terror and running straight into the glass door of the balcony to get away from the moth.
It's what your friendship is based on: embarrassing moments that the other finds hilarious but no one else would understand. Like the time you spent three minutes telling a store mannequin what you were looking for, or the time Lando locked himself out of his apartment at four in the morning. He has a tendency of doing that, so much so that when it happens he shows up at your place.
Like he is now, in his joggers and slides, without his wallet or phone, smiling sheepishly at you like it isn't three a.m.
"Don't you have other friends," you grumble, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.
"None that'll answer the door this late," he sighs.
You sigh and step back to let him in, pretending to be unaffected by the scent of him freshly showered. "How'd it happen?"
"Took out the trash and thought I had my key in my pocket." He looks entirely too comfortable in your tiny apartment, shirtless and his hair still damp.
Nodding, you shuffle to your bedroom to collect the spare key to his place. That he'd given to you so casually, like it was a normal thing for him to hand out an extra key, when you knew it wasn't because even Fewtrell didn't have a spare key back when Lando lived in England still.
"C'mon, you know I'll need it. Besides, you're the only one I trust to have it." He dropped the key - attached to a Snoopy keychain that you remember him buying in Vegas - into your purse. "There. Now it's impossible to get rid of me."
As if you'd ever want to.
He follows you into the bedroom and you're painfully aware of your unmade bed and the clothes you'd left on the floor. Which is ridiculous, because it's Lando, he's been in your bedroom before, he's seen your dirty underwear–
Just not at three in the morning...
"Fuck," you mutter, turning your purse upside down to empty it onto the dresser. The essentials of your life spill out, lip gloss and gum and wallet and keys - but not Lando's because that one stays on its Snoopy keychain it's special - and hand sanitizer and notepad and six pens and tissues and the ticket stub from the movie he took you to see two weeks ago and a friendship bracelet and two pads. Everything but his key.
"Don't tell me you've lost it," he says.
You scoff at the idea. You may have lost your mind, your sanity, and sometimes your wallet, but you'd never lose his key. Your sleepy mind scrambles. Two weeks ago you pulled it to give to him and–
"Oh shit it's at my place," he mumbles, clapping a hand over his face.
"Lando!" you groan, sweeping everything back into your purse.
He's sorry, you're annoyed, and after bickering uselessly you tell him to just go to bed, he can get his superintendent to let him in in the morning.
It's not unusual to share a bed with him. Lando's a clingy, touchy feely person, half the time you travel with him he ends up taking you into staying in his room. Ostensibly because he likes to talk but really because he wants to cuddle.
"You awake?" he whispers in the darkness. "Or asleep?"
You don't answer, because you know he's about to say something profoundly sweet or incredibly stupid.
He presses his face into your hair and sighs, much like an exhausted dog finally settling down for a good sleep. "I do it on purpose sometimes," he whispers. "Cuz I sleep better with you than when I'm alone."
As confessions go it's probably your favorite. But you have to pretend you don't hear it. You're smiling though, and you let out a sleepy little hum. And you feel him smile.
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demonpiratehuntress · 9 months
Text
the only one
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - Ace was always a flirt in whatever bars you went to, but once he's in love with you that changes.
warnings - none
a/n: i forgot to add this part in "marry me" so i just decided to make it its own fic. it was haunting me
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When you first met Ace, he was perhaps the biggest flirt you had ever come across in your life. Anywhere and anytime, if you were in a bar he would be chatting up almost every local woman he met. It never used to bother you when you were just friends, but once you developed a crush on him it became a bit of a problem.
Most nights you would end up going back to the ship alone, and even though he wouldn't do anything with them - as evident when he returned to the ship after you alone - it still ate away at you. Made you feel things you didn't want to feel, unpleasant emotions that had you crying and sobbing into your pillow late at night when no one could hear.
Or at least, when you thought no one could hear.
Ace's room was next to yours, and every night he was absolutely crushed to hear your sobs. He was never sure what caused them, but he knew you wouldn't tell him. So he set out to discover the cause himself, and did as such on another island trip.
Noticing the way your face fell when he left the table to go talk to some girls at the bar, it instantly hit him that you were hurting because of him. And that was his first sign that you liked him.
That's when everything changed.
Once Ace was sure you had a crush on him, he stopped trying to suppress his feelings for you. They came out in full bloom, and his behaviour in bars and pubs completely changed, noticeable to everyone who knew him.
When Ace decided to show he was deeply in love with you, you noticed.
Every bar you went to after that involved him sitting right next to you the whole time, drunkenly flirting with you and you alone. Telling you how pretty you are, how cute you looked when you were so red, and how sweet you always were to him. No matter how many pretty girls were in the bar that day, he was glued to you.
"Ace," you would giggle and push his head off your shoulder. "Those girls in the corner are eyeing you out, they're pretty."
The raven-haired commander pouted, not even shooting them a glance, "But (Name), no one is prettier than youuuuu." He smiled, dropping his head back onto your shoulder. His breath reeked of alcohol, so you just dismissed it as drunken rambling, your face bright red.
But then there were times when he didn't drink at all, and still ignored anyone other than you trying to get with him.
"Sorry, can't talk right now."
You watched him dismiss yet another pretty woman as he made his way back to the table, handing you another drink. He plopped down in his seat next to you, offering you his goofiest grin yet.
"Ace, you just-"
He shrugged, still grinning at you, "I didn't do anything."
"But that girl-"
"What girl?"
He was staring at you, awestruck by your beauty. His eyes were only ever on you these days, and nothing changed that. He didn't look at anyone else, never finding the need to, since he was so hopelessly in love with you. Even when you went to go get drinks for the group, Ace would watch you go and come back, his eyes stuck on your figure. He would stare with the most loving, adoring gleam in his eyes, feeling butterflies each time you returned his smile.
You were still oblivious, "Ace, I think you should talk to one of them. They seem to like you, and you need a girlfriend."
"Well I don't like them," he replied, suddenly leaning forward, "And I already know who I want as my girlfriend."
"Oh." Your face fell, but he was quick to make you smile again.
"(Name), you're so dumb."
"Am not!"
"Are too! I stare at you in every bar and all you think about is me talking to other girls!"
You blushed hard, stuttering and stammering out a nonsense reply, but you found it difficult to argue with that.
"Ace, you deserve better than me. And they're prettier."
"If I really thought that," he leaned in so close that your lips almost touched, "I wouldn't be sitting here with you, would I?" He grinned again. "You're the most beautiful woman in this bar, and every other bar, so I'm happy right where I am."
Then you started dating, and all Ace would do in bars was show you off. To both men and women that approached him, even if it had nothing to do with the conversation.
"Did you see my girlfriend?" He would ask them, drunkenly. "She's the HOTTEST-" Marco would usually have to drag him away before he spilled something more explicit.
Any time a woman would come up to him, Ace would hightail it out of there and do one of two things. One, he would hide behind you and grip you so tightly as he points you in the direction of the daring woman. Two, he would perch himself on your lap and kiss all over your face with his arms around your neck. Each one depends on how drunk he is.
"No thanks, I have a girlfriend."
"My girlfriend's right over there."
"My girlfriend is prettier than you."
"(Nameeeeeeeeeeee), come and tell them that you're my girlfriend!"
He's so in love that he doesn't even pay attention to anyone but you wherever you go. If you tell him to drink less than last time, he will. If you tell him to stay at the table, he will. He will sit you on his lap and lock you in his arms, not allowing you to move for the rest of the evening. He usually falls asleep against your neck, but you don't mind.
But, generally, when Ace is with you in a bar he will keep you glued to his side so everyone knows that he is taken. The brave ones who still approach will usually have to deal with you, and he loves to watch.
Once you're married, you best believe this man is going into every bar yelling to anyone who will listen that he's married, that he has a wife, or that his wife is the hottest person in the universe. He clings to you and makes sure people know you're married, even if they are just passing by and have no intention of talking to either of you.
"How times have changed," you teased him one day, sitting on his lap in yet another bar. "A while back you'd be flirting with every woman in this bar."
"That was before I knew you liked me!" He protested, blushing in embarrassment. "And anyway, that's what happens when you find the one."
"The one?" You blushed.
"Yessss," he smiled happily, pecking your lips. "You're the one. My one. The only one I will ever want and ever need." He peppered your face with kisses. "To me, you're the only woman in these bars."
"Good."
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writteninkat · 2 months
Text
What made you fall for these MHA men?
w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari
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warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff
a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage
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KATSUKI BAKUGOU
this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo
whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)
find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.
one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box
chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.
history? which one? japanese? american? french?
ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.
yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.
yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing
seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him
you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)
EIJIRO KIRISHIMA
he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?
you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door
it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?
if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry
no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best
whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.
hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you
always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink
problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.
yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him
IZUKU MIDORIYA
the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning
it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing
you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might
he's also incredible passionate about being a hero
the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching
whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse
feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are
whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up
whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!
problem here? he does that with everyone.
he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.
or are you?
SHOTO TODOROKI
you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.
at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.
you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.
mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.
shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them
"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk
"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.
"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.
you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.
another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him
class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands
wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.
how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face
he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.
DENKI KAMINARI
this man cracks you up with no fail
the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure
he's got every kind of humor in his chamber
dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"
corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."
dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"
yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud
you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you
this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks
when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.
what made you really feel for him though?
when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing
even katsuki cursed you out for being sick
apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-
"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.
"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.
denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.
"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."
your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.
"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"
and you do.
and he does.
and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.
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