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#THE WAY HE JUST CRUSHED THE CUP WHATS WRONG WITH HIM
hazelira · 2 days
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Part 1 of Wrong Person, Right Time - Heeseung
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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The dim glow of the streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement as you stood outside the café, the cool night air biting at your skin. Heeseung was late again, but you were used to it by now. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, watching the steam rise from your coffee cup as it grew colder, much like the man you were waiting for. It had been months since the two of you started this strange dance—seeing each other but never truly connecting. Heeseung was distant, his words sharp, his gaze detached. Yet, somehow, you had convinced yourself there was something worth holding onto, something beneath that cold exterior that still made you hope. The sound of footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. You looked up to see Heeseung walking toward you, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, his face expressionless. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes briefly meeting yours before glancing away as if the sight of you wasn’t worth the effort.
“You’re late,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. He shrugged, not even bothering to apologize. “I had things to do.” You bit your lip, forcing down the disappointment that had become familiar. “Heeseung, we need to talk.” His eyes flicked toward you, a hint of irritation in them. “About what?” You inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to say what had been weighing on you for weeks. “About us. About how you’ve been treating me.” A faint scoff escaped his lips, and he leaned against the brick wall, arms crossed.
“What is there to talk about? I thought we were… having fun.” The words stung more than you cared to admit. “Fun? Is that what this is to you?” Heeseung's eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth you used to imagine he was capable of. “What else would it be?” You swallowed hard, your throat tight to hold back tears. “I thought maybe… maybe we could be something more.” For the briefest moment, something flashed in his eyes—regret, doubt, you weren’t sure—but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same detached indifference he always wore around you. “You were wrong,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. “I’m not the person you think I am.” The weight of his words hung between you, crushing any hope you had left. You had given him everything—your time, your heart, your vulnerability—and he had only given you distance in return. He wasn’t cruel, not in the obvious way. His cruelty lay in his indifference, in the way he could break your heart without even caring that he was doing it. “I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I thought that maybe… the timing was right. That we were meant to be.” Heeseung’s gaze softened for a split second before hardening again, and he pushed himself off the wall. “Timing has nothing to do with it. Even if it was the right time… I’m still the wrong person.” The finality of his words hit you like a wave, and you nodded, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. You had known all along, hadn’t you? Known that Heeseung would never be the person you needed, who would love you how you wanted to be loved. But you had convinced yourself that with time, he would change. That you could be enough for him. But now, standing here in the cold night air, you realize that you weren’t. You never were.
“I guess that’s it then,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Heeseung’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the slightest flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost made you believe he cared. Almost. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s it.” Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you with your cooling coffee and a heart that felt too heavy to carry. You watched him disappear into the night, the sound of his footsteps fading until all that was left was silence. You stood there for a long time, staring at where he had been, wondering how long it would take for the ache in your chest to go away.
You had loved the wrong person at what you thought was the right time. But maybe you realized there was never a suitable time for someone like Heeseung. You stood there, frozen in place, as Heeseung's silhouette disappeared into the darkness. The ache in your chest only deepened with every second that passed, the weight of your unspoken hopes and shattered dreams pressing down on you. Your mind replayed his words on a loop. "I’m still the wrong person." You had known, deep down, from the very beginning. Heeseung had always been distant, always held a part of himself back. Yet you clung to those rare moments when his guard slipped, his gaze softened, and you felt like you mattered for a second—those fleeting moments had kept you hanging on, convinced that beneath the cold exterior, a version of Heeseung cared. But tonight, he had made it clear. It wasn’t about time, circumstances, or you are not trying hard enough. It was about him.
You began walking, your steps heavy as you descended the empty street. The cold night air stung your face, but you welcomed it, hoping it would numb the deep pain in your bones. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you didn’t reach for it. You weren’t ready to face the world yet. As you walked, memories of you and Heeseung flooded your mind. The late-night drives, the silent moments where you thought you understood each other without words, the way his hand would hover near yours but never quite hold it. After weeks of silence, he had shown up at your door, not explain, just a quiet presence that you mistook for affection. You had never asked for much. You just wanted him to see you. To feel for you the way you felt for him. But he had always been out of reach, no matter how hard you tried. By the time you reached your apartment, exhaustion had settled in—emotional more than physical. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, the quiet of your home swallowing you whole. The stillness was suffocating. The kind that reminded you just how alone you were. Sinking onto the couch, you let the tears finally fall.
*
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ENHYPEN MASTERLIST
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extravagav · 5 months
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I love their stupid little rivalry so much they're so silly 😭😭😭
Also let's just add this to the sakura being a feral cat folder real quick
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eupheme · 2 months
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— come on and show me
[part ii | part iii | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 5.5k
tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV
a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕
Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.
(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)
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Logan can hear Wade from here.
Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.
Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.
So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.
What a waste.
The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.
Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.
Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.
Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-
The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.
Logan huffs.
“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”
“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”
“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”
As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.
Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.
Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”
“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”
“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”
“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”
Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.
Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”
The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.
“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”
The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.
“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”
Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.
“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”
“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”
“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”
If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.
“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”
The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.
“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”
Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”
“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”
Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.
He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.
“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”
His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.
“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”
And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.
Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.
He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.
Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.
The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.
Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.
So fucking keen on sharing.
So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.
There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.
Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.
“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.
“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”
He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-
If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.
The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.
“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”
Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.
He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.
That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”
Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”
Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.
“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”
Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”
The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.
“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”
Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”
With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.
“The offer still stands!” He calls.
A beat, before you turn.
“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.
A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.
“Your paper’s upside down.”
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Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.
Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.
Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.
“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.
He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.
“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”
There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”
“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”
He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.
“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”
That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”
“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”
“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”
He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.
Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.
Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.
Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.
“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”
Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”
“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”
You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.
Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.
“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-
You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”
“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”
An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.
And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.
Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.
A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.
He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.
“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.
Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.
The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.
Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.
Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.
“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.
“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”
Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.
There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.
“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”
He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.
“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”
You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.
“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”
He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.
Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.
Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.
Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.
Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.
“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”
He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.
Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.
“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.
You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.
A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.
Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.
That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.
“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."
Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.
Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.
“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.
You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.
“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."
There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.
Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.
A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.
Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.
He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.
The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.
“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”
There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.
“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”
His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.
A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.
Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.
“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.
You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.
Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.
The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.
Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.
“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.
“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”
“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.
And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.
“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.
"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.
“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”
His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.
Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”
Wade groans, as he catches up.
“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”
Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.
“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.
Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.
Another thing to catalog.
Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.
Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.
Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.
Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.
You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.
“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”
A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.
“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”
Logan bats his hand away.
It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.
Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.
Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.
“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.
There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.
“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”
You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.
“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.
A rough chuckle rattles.
“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”
Fuck it. He lets him.
Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.
“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”
“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”
That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.
“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.
Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”
“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”
Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.
But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.
“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”
Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.
That Wade hadn’t been joking before.
He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.
Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.
Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.
“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”
And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.
“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”
It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.
The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.
Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.
It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.
His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.
Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.
Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.
And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.
“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.
Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.
“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.
Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.
Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.
Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.
Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.
Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.
The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.
“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”
It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.
“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”
There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.
Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.
Just like his dreams. Even better, really.
“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”
A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.
“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”
Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.
Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.
A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.
“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”
He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.
Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.
Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.
“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.
His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.
The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.
It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.
Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.
When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.
A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.
It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.
Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.
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Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.
“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.
A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.
“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?
"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."
The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.
“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”
Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”
“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”
And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.
To be wanted.
And maybe, he even feels… content.
Something he never thought he’d be, again.
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thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖
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reidmarieprentiss · 26 days
Text
Textual Tension
Summary: You accidentally send a very suggestive text to your awkward coworker, and he replies...
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, awkward tension
Word count: 6.1k
a/n: has anyone ever sent a sext to the wrong person?? i've only ever sent them to my friends on accident and for that i am so thankful
main masterlist
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Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving), mild breast play, soft dom spencer
You sit on your bed, the soft glow of your phone illuminating your face as you type out a rather suggestive message to the person you've been casually hooking up with. A smirk tugs at your lips as you hit send, confident that the message will hit its mark. 
I've been thinking about you… Can't stop imagining what I'd do if you were here right now. I want to feel your hands all over me, the way you’d make me moan… Let’s make fantasy a reality?
But within seconds, your heart stops as you realize the terrible mistake you've just made.
You’ve sent the message to Spencer.
Spencer.
Your coworker. The brilliant, kind, and awkwardly charming genius who you’ve always had a friendly, professional relationship with. And, of course, the one who has been harboring a massive, secret crush on you. A fact that, unbeknownst to you, has led to countless daydreams and wishes that you might feel the same.
The blood drains from your face as you stare at your phone, horrified, praying that somehow the message didn’t actually go through, or maybe, just maybe, Spencer won’t read it and will simply delete it. But you know better—Spencer is meticulous about everything. Of course, he’ll read it. You’re absolutely mortified, every worst-case scenario flashing through your mind.
Meanwhile, in his apartment, Spencer is settling down with a cup of tea, ready to dive into the book he’s been reading. When his phone buzzes, he picks it up absentmindedly, assuming it’s just a work-related message or something mundane. But as he reads the words on the screen, his eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat.
His thoughts run wild, heart pounding as he rereads the text, each time wondering if it could possibly be real. Could you, the person he’s admired from afar for so long, actually want him in the way he’s secretly yearned for? The idea is intoxicating, and before he can second-guess himself, he responds with a message that matches your energy, his pulse quickening at the boldness of it.
Wow… I didn’t know you were into me like that. I’ve been thinking about you too. If you want, we can definitely make that happen.
The moment you see his reply, your stomach drops. You can't believe this is happening. You’re completely mortified, your mind spinning with the implications. How could you ever face him again? You don’t respond, the fear and embarrassment paralyzing you, leaving you in a state of panic.
The next day at work, you’re a bundle of nerves. Every step you take towards the bullpen feels like you’re walking to your own doom. When you finally arrive, you try to act normal, but the tension is palpable. You can’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with Spencer, every interaction feeling like it’s laced with the humiliation of last night’s mistake.
Spencer, on the other hand, is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. At first, he’s elated, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you were into him. But as the day drags on and you remain distant, the excitement turns to confusion, then a sharp sting of rejection. Did he misread the situation? Was it all just a mistake? He’s left feeling awkward and exposed, unsure of where he stands with you now.
The tension between you and Spencer had become a nearly tangible thing, a thread pulled taut between the two of you, ready to snap at any moment. At first, your glances in his direction were purely out of necessity—quick, fleeting looks to gauge his mood, to see if he was as affected by this as you were. But as the days passed, those glances became more frequent, more lingering.
It started innocently enough. You’d look over and notice how effortlessly his hair seemed to fall into place, the soft waves framing his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal. You’d never paid much attention before, but now you couldn’t help but admire how it suited him, how it added to his charm.
Then, it was his forearms. You’d catch him pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, revealing the sinewy strength beneath the fabric. There was something about the casual way he did it, the way the muscles in his arms flexed ever so slightly as he worked, that made your heart skip a beat. It was such a simple thing, but it had a profound effect on you, stirring something deep within.
And then there was the way he licked his lips when he was focused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he concentrated on whatever task was in front of him. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his attention focused solely on you, to feel the intensity of that gaze as he looked at you, not with confusion or uncertainty, but with desire.
The more you noticed these little things, the more conflicted you became. This was Spencer—sweet, brilliant, and awkward Spencer. The idea of seeing him in a different light had never really crossed your mind before, but now… now it was all you could think about. The memory of his bold response to your accidental text played on a loop in your mind, taunting you with the possibilities.
What if you responded? What if you stopped overthinking everything and just… saw where it could go? The idea terrified you, but it also excited you in a way you hadn’t expected. There was something thrilling about the thought of exploring this new dynamic, of seeing if there was something more between you and Spencer than just a shared workspace.
You found yourself daydreaming about it, wondering how he would react if you sent him a message, if you matched the energy of his reply. Would he be as nervous as you were, or would he surprise you with a confidence you hadn’t seen before? The thought of it made your pulse quicken, a flush of warmth spreading through you.
But with the excitement came doubt. What if this was a mistake? What if you were reading too much into things, and responding to his text would only make the situation worse? The fear of making things awkward again, of possibly ruining your work life further, held you back. Yet, the thought of doing nothing felt like a missed opportunity, like you were letting something potentially amazing slip through your fingers.
As the day dragged on, you found it harder and harder to focus on your work. Every time you saw Spencer, every time you noticed another little detail about him that you hadn’t before, the urge to reach out grew stronger. It was like there was a tug-of-war going on inside you, with one side urging you to take the risk and see what could happen, and the other holding you back out of fear.
Finally, as the workday was winding down, you made a decision. Maybe you were overthinking this—maybe it was time to just go for it and see what came of it. After all, Spencer had responded positively, hadn’t he? There was a chance, a real chance, that he felt something for you too, something more than just a workplace friendship.
Sitting on your couch with your heart pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you debated what to say. You didn’t want to be too forward, but you also didn’t want to be vague. After a few moments of contemplation, you typed out a message, your hands trembling slightly as you reread it.
Hey, about that text… Maybe we should talk. Or… you know, not just talk. If you’re still interested.
You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as you watched the message deliver. There was no going back now.
The rest of the evening was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. You couldn’t stop thinking about what his response might be, what it could mean for the two of you. When your phone finally buzzed with a new message, you hesitated for just a moment before opening it.
I’m definitely interested. Let’s talk… or not just talk, whenever you’re ready.
The words were simple, but they held so much promise. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you read them, a mixture of relief and excitement flooding your senses. This was happening. You and Spencer were about to cross a line, to explore something new and thrilling.
Just as you were contemplating what to say, how to navigate this sudden and unexpected turn in your relationship, another notification lit up your screen.
Come over? Now?
The message was short, simple, and completely electrifying. It sent a jolt through your system, leaving you momentarily speechless. The implications of it were clear—Spencer wasn’t just thinking about this; he was ready to act on it, to turn this accidental confession into something real and immediate.
Your mind raced as you considered what to do next. Just minutes ago, you were agonizing over whether or not to even respond, and now he was inviting you over, as if the decision had already been made. The sheer boldness of his message left you breathless, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement.
You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like—showing up at his place, the air thick with the unspoken tension that had been building between you all day. The thought of being alone with him, of crossing that line from coworkers to something more, sent a thrill through you.
You took a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This was a pivotal moment, and whatever you decided now would set the course for what happened next.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you typed out a response, your heart racing as you hit send.
I'll be there in 20 minutes.
You parked outside Spencer’s apartment building, your heart racing as you took a deep breath to steady yourself. The 20-minute drive had been filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—excitement, anticipation, and a lingering thread of uncertainty. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect when you arrived, especially considering how different Spencer had seemed over text compared to how he usually was in person. The Spencer you knew was shy, adorably awkward, and hesitant when it came to personal matters. But his texts had shown a side of him that was bold, confident, and unafraid to take charge.
As you approached his door, your nerves started to get the better of you, but there was no turning back now. You lifted your hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally letting your knuckles rap against the wood. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity, your mind racing with possibilities of how this night could unfold.
When the door finally opened, you were taken aback by the sight that greeted you. Spencer stood there, shirtless, the soft glow of his apartment’s light highlighting the lean lines of his torso. He wore nothing but a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants, the waistband slung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the defined muscles and trail of hair beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d run his hands through it moments before opening the door, and his eyes, usually filled with a mix of curiosity and gentle kindness, now held a smoldering intensity that you had never seen before.
For a moment, you couldn’t find the words, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. This wasn’t the Spencer you were used to—this was the man who had responded to your accidental text with a confidence that had both surprised and intrigued you. The awkward, hesitant Spencer you knew seemed to have taken a backseat, making way for someone who knew exactly what he wanted.
And what he wanted, it seemed, was you.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched your reaction. There was a heat in his gaze, a silent challenge that dared you to step inside, to see just how far this newfound confidence could take him.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m glad you came.”
You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there like that—so effortlessly confident, so unapologetically enticing—made it difficult to think of anything but the rush of desire that was quickly building within you.
“Hey,” you managed to reply, your voice a little breathless. “You… uh, look different.”
Spencer’s smile widened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped aside to let you in. “Well I should hope so,” he said, his tone teasing, but with an underlying seriousness that sent your heart racing even faster.
You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of his apartment wrap around you as the door clicked shut behind you. The atmosphere between you was charged, electric, every moment filled with unspoken possibilities. Spencer moved closer, his presence almost overwhelming in its intensity. The scent of him—a mix of something clean and masculine—filled your senses, making you even more acutely aware of the heat radiating from his skin.
“I’ve been thinking,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet steady, as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “About what was said...”
Your breath hitched at the light touch, your skin tingling where his fingers had just been. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid that your voice might betray just how much his presence was affecting you.
“I don’t want this to be awkward,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “But I also don’t want to pretend that nothing’s changed… because it has.”
He was right—everything had changed. The air between you was thick with tension, with the unspoken acknowledgment of what you both wanted but were too nervous to voice. And yet, here he was, standing so close, shirtless and confident, laying it all out in front of you.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found your voice. “So… what happens next?”
Spencer’s lips quirked up into a small, almost mischievous smile. “I think that depends on what you want.”
His words hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation all at once. You could feel the pull, the magnetic attraction drawing you closer to him, and in that moment, you knew there was no turning back.
With a boldness you hadn’t known you possessed, you stepped even closer, your body nearly brushing against his as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “I want to find out what happens when we stop pretending.”
The last remnants of hesitation melted away as Spencer’s smile turned into something more—something hungry and determined. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips descended on yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was fierce, consuming, a release of all the tension that had been building between you.
As his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer still, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you had only begun to scratch the surface of the side of Spencer Reid you were about to discover tonight.
The world around you blurred as Spencer’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with every passing second. Time seemed to lose all meaning as you lost yourself in the warmth of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the way his hands gripped your waist with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. It felt like you had been kissing for an eternity, and yet when he finally pulled back, you found yourself gasping for breath, your mind spinning, and your body aching for more.
Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a heat that made your pulse quicken. Without saying a word, he took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, leading you down the hall towards his bedroom. The anticipation thrummed in your veins, every step heightening the tension between you. But just as you reached the doorway, Spencer suddenly stopped, turning to press you against the doorframe. His lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses that made your knees weaken and your breath hitch.
You barely had time to process the sensation before he pulled back again, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gently but firmly guided you into the bedroom. With a swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed, and you bounced slightly, a surprised giggle escaping your lips. The unexpected shift in his demeanor—this newfound confidence, this playful dominance—left you both intrigued and a little off-balance. You’d known Spencer as the quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy genius, but this side of him was something entirely different, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by it.
As you lay there, still trying to wrap your head around this change, you found yourself blurting out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind. “Do you do this a lot, Reid?”
Spencer chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a ripple of warmth through your body. He shook his head with a smile that was equal parts reassuring and teasing. “No, not ever really,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady, as he reached for your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands rested on your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through your clothes, grounding you in the moment.
“Call me Spencer,” he added, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. There was something intimate about the way he said it, as if this wasn’t just about physical attraction, but about letting you see a side of him that no one else had. 
Your heart skipped a beat at the request, the simple act of calling him by his first name in this context making the moment feel even more personal, more real. 
“Spencer,” you repeated, the name slipping from your lips like a secret, a promise. His smile widened, a spark of something almost wicked flashing in his eyes, and you realized that you were about to discover a side of him that you’d never imagined existed.
Spencer leaned in, his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time, you know. I just never thought…” He trailed off, as if realizing that words weren’t enough to express what he was feeling. Instead, he captured your lips with his again, his kiss searing and insistent, as though he were making up for lost time.
Spencer's hands, warm and steady, slowly trailed up your sides, his fingers grazing the soft fabric of your t-shirt as they moved. When he reached the hem, he hesitated, his touch gentle but deliberate as he curled his fingers around the edge. He looked up at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness, but there was something else too—a careful consideration, a need to ensure that you were just as willing as he was.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his eyes searching yours for the reassurance he needed.
For a moment, you were too caught up in the heat of the moment to respond, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he looked at you, with such raw want and yet so much care, made it hard to think clearly. You nodded quickly, your eyes wide with anticipation, but Spencer didn’t move.
His grip on your shirt tightened slightly as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to need you to use your words, sweetheart.”
The way he said it—his voice rough, almost gritted out with barely restrained desire—made your head spin, the sheer force of his need for you sending your pulse into overdrive. There was a command in his tone, but also a gentle reminder that this was your choice, that he needed to hear you say it.
You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to find the words. The air around you felt thick with tension, every second stretching out as you stared up at him, the look in his eyes making it impossible to deny him—or yourself.
“Ye—yes, please,” you finally managed to say, your voice a little breathless, but full of the same want that you saw reflected in his eyes.
Spencer’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at your response, a small, almost predatory smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to lift your shirt. The fabric slid up your torso slowly, the cool air of the room hitting your skin as he revealed more of you. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside.
For a brief moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable under the weight of his gaze. But the way Spencer looked at you, with a mixture of awe and hunger, made all your insecurities melt away. His hands roamed over the newly exposed skin, his touch both soothing and electrifying, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity and desire, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your collarbone, his lips lingering against your skin.
You had forgone a bra that night, thinking nothing of it when you slipped into your comfy clothes after a long day at work. After all, you hadn’t planned on anything like this happening. But now, with Spencer’s hands on you, his eyes filled with something that looked a lot like awe, you found that you didn’t care in the slightest. If anything, it added to the intimacy of the moment, the rawness of it, making you feel closer to him than you ever thought possible.
His touch was slow, deliberate, almost as if he was savoring every moment, every reaction he elicited from you. His fingers brushed over your skin, exploring you with curiosity and desire, as if he was trying to learn every detail, every response, to what he was doing. When his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body arching towards him instinctively, craving more of his touch.
“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with so much emotion that it felt like a confession. There was something in his name, in the way it rolled off your tongue, that made the moment feel even more intimate, more real. It wasn’t just a name anymore—it was a declaration, an acknowledgment of what was happening between you, of the connection that was quickly forming.
Spencer’s eyes flicked back up to yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. There was something almost primal in the way he looked at you now, a hunger that was barely restrained, but also a tenderness that made your chest tighten with emotion. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… how long I’ve wanted you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the sheer weight of them. It wasn’t just lust in his voice—it was something deeper, something that made you feel cherished, desired in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The realization that Spencer had been holding back, that he had wanted you for so long, made your heart swell with emotion, your need for him growing even stronger.
He kissed you again, his lips capturing yours in a way that was both gentle and demanding, his hands continuing their exploration of your body. Each touch, each caress, was filled with passion and care, as if he was trying to show you just how much you meant to him without needing to say the words. And with every kiss, every brush of his fingertips, you found yourself falling deeper into the moment, your own desire for him becoming overwhelming.
You reached up, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat of his body against yours. The way he responded, the way his hands gripped you tighter, as if afraid to let go, made it clear that he was just as lost in the moment as you were. There was no more hesitation, no more awkwardness—just the two of you, finally giving in to the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.
Spencer’s hands were warm against your skin as he gently laid you back on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he hovered above you. The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming, his pupils blown wide with desire, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe even a hint of vulnerability. His fingers trailed down your sides, the touch sending shivers through your body as he slowly leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your chest.
“Tell me, Y/N…” His voice was a low murmur, filled with an edge of something deeper, as he kissed his way down your chest, taking his time, savoring the feel of your skin beneath his lips. “Did you think about me too?”
The question hung in the air, making your breath hitch as you squirmed beneath him, the sensation of his kisses igniting a fire deep within you. Your mind was spinning, every nerve in your body on high alert as you felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
“I did,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless as the confession slipped out. It was the truth, after all—you had thought about him, more than you ever wanted to admit. The idea of Spencer, sweet, awkward Spencer, being the one to push you to this point had always been a secret fantasy, buried deep within you. But now, with him here, in this moment, it was no longer just a fantasy—it was real.
Spencer’s lips curved into a smirk against your skin as he reached your hip, his teeth nipping playfully at the delicate flesh, making you gasp. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and surprise, and you couldn’t help but arch your back slightly in response. His hands moved to your shorts, his fingers hooking into the waistband as he tugged them down slowly, teasingly, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he did.
“That text wasn’t for me though, was it?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he watched your reaction. The smirk on his face was something you’d never seen before—confident, almost cocky, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.
You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. You hadn’t expected him to catch on to that detail, but of course he had—Spencer was nothing if not observant. The thought that he knew the text wasn’t meant for him, but was still here, still wanting you, made your pulse quicken even more.
“Uh, no, it wasn’t,” you admitted with a whine, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no point in lying—not when he was looking at you like that, his gaze full of heat and understanding. “But I’m glad I sent it to you,” you added quickly, your voice filled with sincerity and a hint of desperation.
Spencer’s smirk softened into a small, almost tender smile as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your navel. “Maybe your subconscious wanted you to,” he suggested, his voice low and smooth, each word making your head spin. The idea made you dizzy, the thought that some part of you had always wanted this, had always wanted him, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.
“Uh huh,” you breathed out, your voice floaty and airy, your mind clouded with desire. The sensation of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly. All you could focus on was the way he made you feel—alive, wanted, and completely lost in the moment.
Spencer’s fingers continued to work on removing your shorts, sliding them down your legs with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he was savoring every second, every inch of skin he revealed.
As he finally discarded your shorts, leaving you completely exposed to him, he took a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and admiration. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned in to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary.
The words made your heart swell, a wave of warmth washing over you as you reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair. There was nothing left to hide now, nothing left to hold back. This was exactly where you wanted to be—where you were meant to be.
“Do you always skip out on bras and panties, Y/N?” Spencer’s teasing comment sent a ripple of laughter through you, the sound mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. The playful banter between you only intensified the electric connection that was already sparking between you both. His bite on your inner thigh was both a tease and a promise, igniting a fire that made every nerve in your body come alive.
“N–no, only at home,” you managed to scream out, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The combination of his touch and the vulnerability of the moment made it impossible to hold back any longer.
He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, echoing softly in the room as his fingers continued to explore your skin. “But you didn’t put any on before coming over?” His tone was light, yet there was an undeniable edge of desire that underpinned his words.
You took a moment to catch your breath, the playful challenge in his eyes urging you to respond. “Are you–are you complaining?” you asked, your voice wavering between breathless laughter and the growing urgency of your emotions.
Spencer shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Not at all, although–” His sentence was cut short as your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him fully into you. The sudden, decisive movement left no room for hesitation, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, entwined in each other’s embrace.
“Oh my god, Spencer, just shut up,” you laughed, the sound filled with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Put your mouth to use.”
His response was immediate, his lips finding your core with a fervor that matched the intensity of your own longing. The way he ate you out was everything you had been waiting for—passionate, deep, and downright filthy. His hands left their place on your thighs, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that made you feel both cherished and desired.
As he sunk his mouth deeper, sucking your clit into his mouth, Spencer guided you gently but firmly onto the bed, the softness of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between you.
“Spencer,” you moaned, the name slipping out like a sacred vow, sealing the moment between you. His response was a dirty smile, his mouth shining with your juices, making your pulse throb.
He paused for a moment, just enough to look into your eyes, “You’re fucking delicious,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
As Spencer’s mouth continued to work its magic on your core, a whirlwind of sensations overwhelmed you. Each touch, each stroke of his tongue, sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything but the intense feeling of being completely consumed by him. The way he moved, so skilled yet so attentive to your every reaction, left you breathless, your hands clutching at the sheets as your head swam in a sea of ecstasy.
But amidst the pleasure, a fleeting thought crossed your mind—how close you had come to letting this moment, this incredible opportunity, slip through your fingers. You couldn’t believe that you had almost dismissed the idea of responding to his bold text, that you had almost let fear and hesitation keep you from experiencing this side of Spencer. A side that was confident, passionate, and utterly devoted to your pleasure.
How could you have been so close to missing out on this? On him? Spencer, who had always been there, quiet and thoughtful, had somehow managed to unlock a part of you that you hadn’t even known existed—a part that craved the connection and intimacy he was now offering with every caress of his lips.
You let out a soft moan, your hips arching towards him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. The sounds you made only seemed to spur him on, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulled you closer, his tongue working with a precision that left you teetering on the edge. Every nerve in your body was alive, the world narrowing down to the feel of his mouth on you, the heat of his breath against your skin.
“Spencer,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. It wasn’t just the pleasure he was giving you—it was the realization that this was Spencer, the man you had known for so long, who was now showing you a depth of care and passion that you had never imagined.
The way he responded to your every movement, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed, made you feel cherished in a way that went far beyond the physical. It was as if he was attuned to your very soul, using his touch to communicate something deeper, something that had been building between you for far longer than either of you had realized.
As you felt the tension within you coil tighter and tighter, ready to snap, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily you had fallen into this moment with him. All the hesitation, the uncertainty, had melted away, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between you and Spencer. A connection that had been there all along, waiting for the right moment to be brought to life.
And now that it had, you knew you could never go back to the way things were. Spencer had opened a door to something new, something beautiful, and you were ready to step through it with him, no matter what the future held.
With a final, skillful flick of his tongue over your clit, Spencer sent you tumbling over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your release. The world around you seemed to dissolve into a haze of pleasure and warmth, your mind barely able to process the overwhelming sensations that flooded through you.
As you came down from the high, Spencer’s hands and mouth softened, his touch becoming gentle, almost reverent, as he coaxed you through the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that left no doubt about how much this moment meant to him. He crawled up the bed to join you, his body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in a slow, languid kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips.
You smiled against his lips, a sense of contentment and excitement washing over you as you whispered, “I’m glad I’m here too, Spencer. So glad.”
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jaylaxies · 4 months
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HARD THOUGHT !
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pairing: jake x fem!reader
cw: smut, daddy kink, manipulation, corruption kink, usage of nicknames.
warning: 18+ content, minors dni
a/n: hihi i got a lil carried away w this one! it’s inspired by these two asks here and here! :3 reposting this cause it got community labelled!
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Jake is sweet, almost too sweet to be true and that’s why you trust him blindly with everything. The way he never hesitates to give you prolonged hugs, the way his eyes always provide you with comfort and his words sound like sweet melody to you, it’s a given fact that you won’t want anyone else to teach you how to kiss but your best friend Jake, you simply want to be good for your crush, Heeseung, and so you most certainly didn’t wish to be totally clueless when it comes to such things.
Jake was more than willing to help, “of course i'll help, we don’t want Heeseung to be unsatisfied now, do we?” He’d chuckle, hating the fact that you wanted to do it for another man, yet he had his own ways to keep you close to him, one being-providing you help for his own benefit. “But Jake, won’t it be wrong if I use you for this?” You’d ask, genuine concern plastered on your face and he finds it cute how you think it’s you who’s using him, when in reality, it’s quite the opposite.
“Oh, princess. You don’t have to worry about it, I just want to help you,” he’d smile, making you feel at ease as he starts proceeding with his plan, the first step—kissing.
He’d pat his lap, making your eyes go wide but you’d follow and sit on his lap, straddling him on the couch as his big hands would hold you in place and he’d ask you to kiss him, smiling when you lean in for a delicate peck, groaning when he bites your lip, eliciting a weak moan out of you.
“Jake—” you’d whimper, unknowingly pressing your clothed cunt on his hardening cock, feeling a newfound feeling erupt in your lower abdomen, even more so when he cups your cheek, tilting your face to get a better access to your lips, his plush ones serenading you like there’s no tomorrow, “that’s not what you should call me, princess,” he mutters.
Your eyes widen, looking up at him in question, “Heeseung would love it if you call him daddy,” he smirks, “say it, baby.” He’d urge you, throwing Heeseung’s name to strengthen his case. “D—daddy?” You’d whisper, allowing him to caress your swollen lips. “That’s right, princess. You’re such a good girl for me.” He makes sure to take his time kissing you dumb that night, to the point you lose your sleep, clutching your chest as the vivid images of Jake come back to your mind, you wanted more.
And each day, he taught you more, touching the expanse of your body, getting rid of your clothes turn by turn. The wetness returned each time you tried something new with him, your body felt as if it was on fire as he pushed you into your subspace in all the right ways.
“Daddy!” You moaned, gripping the bed sheet when he tasted your wetness for the first time, his warm breath made it tingle to the point you were shivering. “That’s it babygirl, just trust daddy, yeah?” He said against your folds, accent deeper than ever as he immersed himself in eating you out, giving you your very first orgasm.
You were dazed, wanting more and more. Then came the day you finally saw his cock, his eyes staring at you with such intensity as you could only look at his veiny, leaking cock with innocent and curious eyes.
He grunted when you held him, “you’re doing so well, princess. So good for daddy,” he lets out, holding the back of your head gently as you continued to do just as he directed, smiling once he fills your mouth as his thick cum spurts out on your tongue, making you want to gulp it down, “wanna be so good for daddy always.” You’d smile, forgetting about why you were doing this in the first place, Heeseung wasn’t the one you thought about these days, rather, it was your daddy Jake.
“Tell me what you want, princess?” He’d ask with a sweet smile, which almost looked like a smirk, “daddy,” you’d cry out, “want y—your cock in m—me, I can't wait anymore,” you’d tell him as he’d kiss your tears away, “daddy will give you everything you want, babygirl,” he’d pat your head lovingly despite being in such a compromising position, his tip rubbing on your entrance. He doesn’t rush, he loves seeing you squirm, blabbering out words which do not make sense just because you’re so enraptured by the man on top of you—your daddy who’s more than willing to provide you with everything you need.
He loves it, how fucked up his princess looks with her smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks with her crystalline teardrops, which keep on flowing with the immense pleasure you receive. He loves that he’ll get to fuck you, that his cock will be the first to enter your prettiest cunt, which is his and his only. You were reliant upon him for pleasure, nothing else felt good without your daddy and when he finally gave you the taste of his cock buried deep in your pussy, it felt more pleasurable than it hurt.
“Daddy—” you whisper, eyes closing as you let him take over and kiss you, his hands all over your body, as if he had memorized you completely, touching the most sensitive spots as he thrusted even harder in your leaking pussy, your walls squeezing his cock to the point he couldn’t help but groan out, “so wet for daddy’s cock, yeah? You like it, baby? That’s my good fucking girl, all mine.” He’s right, you’re all his now and you won’t want it otherwise, making a creamy mess on his cock.
Your mind fuzzy with his thoughts through and through, ruining your innocence as he moulded your brain in such a way that you couldn’t help but yearn for him.
And just like that, Jake had successfully corrupted you to the point of no comeback.
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© jaylaxies | tumblr
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slutspinks · 21 days
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obsessed — logan howlet
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synopsis what started as a normal crush, developed into sweet obsession.
this fic contains: stalking, obsessive!logan, usual shit from wade but he is a bit serious here, fem!reader, stealing, home breaking?, foul language, m masturbation. logan acts like a a real perv.
author's note: sometimes, I wonder what’s wrong with me. I can’t believe I wrote a whole fic of logan jerking off to your panties. this is just a quick one shot, I think, not a whole fic. basically I resumed what could’ve been a 5k word story to less than 1K word— maybe I’ll write a second part where you fuck.
Lately, Logan has been thinking.
Thinking about you, Wade’s sweet childhood friend who lives next door.
And thinking about the way your footsteps echoed down the hall whenever you were off to work— your heels clicking with a slow pace and sometimes a bit more rushed because you were running late. His eyes would linger in the humidity spot in the living room ceiling, trying to conceive a picture of what were you wearing that day, even though he knew the answer already. Every day, you wore the same pencil skirt with a satin white shirt— except for Friday’s, that day you always wore dark grey pants. He knew because he followed you to work and back home, taking care of you.
He also could remember the way you’d look at him whenever Wade invited you over, you considered him your friend, even if everything you knew was a mask he put on so you wouldn’t notice what was really happening to him.
He wasn’t soft, not even a bit. But since the first time he met you, he decided he didn’t want you to see him with his usual brooding and grumpy self.
And that’s why he would help carry your groceries inside home, checking up on your pet cat and also watering your plants whenever you were away at your grandmas house for the weekend. He wanted to seem good and kind. That’s why he didn’t complain when you’d drag him and Wade to some rerun of your favorite movies— even if he didn’t like being around Wade in closed spaces.
His roommate’s footsteps distracted him from his train of thought about you, his usual witty remarks weren’t funny anymore and instead caused Logan’s head to throb at every word.
“… And then the asshole turned around and said, I’m gonna take her on a date! How dares he?- I mean sweet (y/n) definitely wouldn’t date that horrible imitation of Nick Cage”, Wade said, his hands taking a spoon and a bowl, opening the cupboard and taking out the cereal box and milk. Logan’s ears perked up to that, Who wanted to date you? After a few minutes later, he dared to ask.
“W-what did you just say?”, he asked, his hands lifting the spare blanket off his body. Wade’s non-existent eyebrow raised, “That I haven’t gone to the bathroom all week?”.
“No, idiot. You say somethin’ about a date and (y/n)?”, he grunted.
Wade smiled, milk spilling from the corners of his mouth, “Oh, pretty (y/n) is a heartbreaker, she’s rejected all the guys at work. They’re all assholes, but hear me out, that Nick Cage low-budget-imitation dude sure wants to get in her pants— or should I say skirt?— Don’t care, he just wants a taste of our sweet (y/n)”.
Logan groaned and got up, walking to the cupboard of the kitchen and taking a bourbon bottle, drinking a big gulp. Wade whistled, eyes wide and a teasing smirk on his lips, “You sure are a thirsty honey badger”.
“Fuck off”, Logan said.
Wade gave a sigh, leaving the spoon rest in his bowl, “Peanut, I know you like my sweet girl— just admit it. Carrying groceries, watering plants, taking care of her fucking cat!- Hell, you even fixed her plumbing. You don’t do shit here, but you’re trying to get on her good side aren’t ya?”.
Logan couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit ashamed, yes he wanted to get on your good side by doing charity work and Wade wasn’t dumb. If he was that good deciphering, then he surely knew about the missing things from your apartment were his doing— misplaced underwear, cups and shirts.
Wade sighed, giving Logan a serious glare “Look, I know you want to get laid and I understand— you’re like two-hundred years old and probably haven’t fucked in decades, but don’t hurt her, she’s my only friend”.
Logan chuckled bitterly, shaking his head, “She’s not even interested in me, bub”.
Wade rolled his eyes, “You’re so fucking dumb— she comes every Friday night to eat pizza and watch cringey rom-coms with us, she usually never came around much because she was always tired with work so I crashed at her place, but all of a sudden she wants to be here every. fucking. Friday. Explain that, idiot”.
He tastes Wade’s words cautiously, all this time he’s been harboring a crush he thought wasn’t reciprocal— he just knew you could not fall for an old man like him, you were young and very intelligent, so his little fantasies had to be just that, fantasies.
But Wade was igniting something he shouldn’t, he was giving Logan hope that maybe, a sweet girl like you, could fall for him.
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It all got worse.
Logan spent more time snooping around your apartment than on his own— or well shared one— he just couldn’t help it anymore.
His dark hoodie covered the imminent guilt slowly creeping through him, a thin silk pink pantie around his fingers and your apartment’s key heavy on his jeans front pocket. Breaking into your apartment was an easy task, you weren’t home and you asked him to come and check on things as usual saying how much you loved your plants and cat but weren’t able to take them with you, so he acted good.
He promised to take care of them.
When you weren’t here, he’d invite himself in with the copy of your key— trying to get rid of the guilt feeling on his bones whenever you’d look at him with sparkling eyes, extending your own keys with eagerness every Saturday.
Hopefully, that guy at the office already got over you, if the multiple threats Logan made worked.
Today was Thursday, just another day until you crashed at Wade’s and Logan could finally see you. Another day where he’d lie about his whereabouts, saying something about taking Laura to swimming lessons on Wednesdays and his new fake job at this repair shop taking too much time any other day of the week.
“Where have you been, Peanut?”, Wade asks the moment Logan steps through the door, his hands resting inside his hoodie pocket.
“Watering plants”, he shortly responds, moving across the room to the kitchen, his eyes falling on yours and then to the bowls filled with popcorn and candies.
“Hey, Lo”, you greeted with a smile, his heart skipping a beat.
“What are you doing here? ‘S not Friday yet”, he asked, his clammy fingers rubbing against the fabric hidden in his pocket.
“Oh I know! But Wade was insisting I should come and check this rom-com with Nicholas Cage— Are you taking care of other apartments?”, you asked, your eyes traveling across his rigid form and parted lips.
“Uhm no”, he let out. You furrowed your brows but nodded, deciding to not say anything.
“Oh, if it’s difficult for you to check on mine’s alright, I can always ask Wade or Mr. Johnson”, your sweet voice reassured, a tent forming in his jeans. He quickly shook his head no, “Don’t worry, yours is the only one”.
After changing his clothes and hiding your panties deep inside his jeans back pocket, he finally relaxed and watched the movie— his arms stayed the whole time on the couch’s rest, hands playing with your soft hair every now and then. When you left, he waited until Wade stopped his usual rambling before going to his spot on the couch. Listening to Wade’s snores through the walls after a few minutes.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you, his body was restless, changing positions every three seconds. Then he finally stopped, his eyes glueing to the ceiling his jeans constricting his aching erection.
Freeing it from its confinement, his hand took it in a tight grip, squeezing and thumb moving to the head, wiping the precum drop that gathered there. It felt hard as steel, his hand squeezing a bit tighter moving up and down slowly. He didn’t think he’d last, he’s been horny since a few weeks ago, but these last few days, he felt he could explode just by looking at you. All the blood running south the moment his eyes stopped on your work attire, your ass shaped perfectly.
He could almost imagine the softness of your skin under his hands, the way your chest would heave up and down with every touch— he wasn’t even a bit ashamed.
He also couldn’t feel ashamed of the way his nostrils inhaled your scent— your stolen panties on his left hand while his right one jerked his dick off.
He was close, so close…
At the same time, his mind conjured a sweet illusion. Your finger working on your clit and pretty tits moving up and down at the same time your breath came out ragged.
Moving the blanket out of the way, the air hit his hot shaft, making a shiver creep but disappearing as soon as he came.
With your panties in hand, he cleaned all the mess.
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ravenslvt · 5 months
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☆ choso kamo x f!reader ☆
cw: smut! college au! virgin choso! kinda pervy choso! unprotected sex! mutual pining!
masterlist
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busy thinking about your college classmate choso who has the biggest crush on you.
the pretty girl who sits next to him in his math lecture.
when you spoke to him for the first time asking for the notes from your class, he practically scrambled to get out his notebook for you to copy off of.
and when you asked for his number with a sweet smile on your pretty face (for homework! of course!) he got so nervous, going over the number over and over in his head praying he didn’t accidentally hit the wrong digit.
his breath hitches when his phone lights up a day or two later.
‘hey!! i’m so behind in math, wondering if you’d like to help me study later :)’
he blinked a couple times, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks or if you meant to text someone else. but all his worries dispersed when another text comes through.
‘this is choso, right?’
he has no idea how he ended up in your dorm room, sitting on your cute little bed with open textbooks surrounding you two.
you sigh, leaning your back against the headboard while stretching out your arms.
you were sure your brain was fried from all this mind numbing work.
“this is boring, why don’t we do something else.” your gaze falls on the dark haired boy in front of you, his eyes meeting your own. he gulped, an eyebrow quirked.
“like what?” he asks, sitting up.
you only just met him two months ago, so you didn't know a lot about the man.
you think for a second, lips pursing together as you drum your fingers along your thigh.
“you ever kiss a girl before, choso?” you ask, head tilting to the side as you watch for his reaction.
his eyes widen at your question.
“i-“ he opens his mouth to speak, nervous under your gaze.
you patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“choso?” you softly ask. he didn’t even notice the way you were sitting closer to him, your thighs brushing against eachother.
he finally looks up at you, pink dusting on his cheeks.
“i-no, i haven’t.” he sheepishly admits, emberassed you would make fun of him or even kick him out of your room.
but instead you give him a shocked look.
“really? but you’re- i mean you’re hot.” you honestly say, making him chuckle. the anxiety built up in his body instantly relieving.
he knew he wasn’t ugly by any means, but your forwardness made his heart flutter. you always made him so nervous.
sure, he was pretty inexperienced, but he wasn’t innocent by any means. he’s watched a fair amount of porn, especially in his single dorm room at night.
he just spent most of his life watching over and taking care of his younger brothers. he was never really interested in finding a girlfriend. that was until he saw you on the first day of classes.
but the way you sat next to him on that first day, introducing yourself with a cute smile. you never left his mind since.
“could i- shit, can i-“ he stutters.
you giggle at his sudden shyness.
“you wanna kiss me, cho?” he shudders when you lean up by his ear to basically whisper to him.
“fuck, yes. so badly” all his shame flies out the window when your pretty little hand rests on his thigh.
his breath hitches when you crawl atop his lap, straddling him. fuck he was hoping you couldn’t feel how he instantly got hard from it.
you start slow, not wanting to overwhelm him. gently cupping his cheek with your hand, you lean in, slowly brushing your lips against his, testing the waters.
one of his hands go to tangle themself in your hair, while his other held your waist gently. practically forcing you closer to him.
your lips move together, slowly at first, but eventually getting more and more aggressive. almost needy.
when you give his mouth an experimental lick, his tongue fighting with yours, you unconsciously roll your hips into him, making him moan into the kiss.
you pulled back, embarrassed you could barely control yourself from a make out session.
“s-sorry.”
fuck you were cute when you’re flustered.
“don’t be sorry. it’s hot.” he smiles, holding you by the back of your neck to bring you back into another kiss. your hands rest on his chest.
with all the baggy clothes he wears, it's hard to tell what a good body he has.
his hands move to your hips, grinding you against his clothed cock.
you whine when your clothed clit rubs against him just right.
“please, can i taste you. wanna eat you out.” he begs, kissing down your jaw down to your neck.
“are you sure? you really don’t have to.” you say, his kisses never ceasing.
“been dreaming of eating your pussy, baby.” he murmurs against your neck, biting down in a few spots. he reluctantly pulls back, letting you lie comfortably against your pillow.
your heart races as you peel your bottoms off, leaving you in your cute little panties. he crawls between your thighs, groaning at the sight.
“did you know this was gonna happen?” he smirks at the sight of your lacy panties. you smile. of course you did
“lucky guess.” you shrug.
he smirks, eyes drawn to your damp panties. he experiments with a lick over the wet patch, eliciting a small gasp from you.
“don’t tease” you pout down at him, making him chuckle. he pulls your panties to the side, revealing your wet cunt.
a wave of nervousness washes over you when he just stares in awe. you thought maybe he was gonna back out.
“even prettier than i imagined” he sighs, immediately delving in, making your gasp turn into a soft moan.
your mind wanders for a moment at the thought of him imagining this before. your hands finding themselves reaching under your shirt to play with your tits as he goes down on you.
he tries his hardest to do to you what he’s seen in porn. goes from flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit, to sucking on it which made your thighs tighten around his head.
he knew he found your most sensitive spot when his tongue flicked over a certain area, making you buck your hips up into him.
your hands move to grip in his messy dark hair, unconsciously tugging as he eats you out like a mad man.
you can’t see the way he slowly grinds his hips into the mattress, his cock straining almost painfully through his sweatpants.
your mind is in a frenzy, body squirming trying to escape how good it felt, but also rutting your hips up into his mouth because you really didn’t want him to stop.
not that he even would, he's in heaven right now. eating the pussy of the girl he’s jerked off too at least several times at this point.
his hands grip at the bottom of your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he prods his tongue into your tight hole, nose brushing against your clit. you moan, tugging at his hair for more and he groans at the harsh tug. he fucking loves it.
you were sure you were so close as he fucks you with his tongue. toes curling so hard you're scared you’re gonna get a cramp.
“choso, please don’t stop” you beg, grinding up into his unrelenting mouth.
he just hums into your cunt in acknowledgement, his movements never stopping as you coat his tongue.
your heels dig into his back, hands tugging at his dark locs, the vibration of his groan making you moan out his name as you cum on his mouth.
you were sure he was lying about being inexperienced with how hard he made you cum. but the way he stared at you like you were a fucking goddess made you think otherwise.
you whine when you realize he still hasn’t stopped lapping at your sensitive pussy. your hips jolt up in overstimulation, making him come back to earth and pulling away.
“sorry” he pants, wiping off his lower face with the sleeve of his hoodie, licking his lips.
“don’t be sorry” you giggle, pulling him up so he’s hovering over you, strong arms on either side of your head. kissing you again. your essence surrounding his tongue.
he grinds his clothed erection into you, making you feel a little bad for neglecting him.
you reach your hand down to graze over him, making him groan and buck into you.
you pat his arm, signalling for him to switch places with you. he nods, sitting against the headboard.
you crawl into his lap, straddling him so you’re face to face. you smile, admiring how pretty he is.
“off?” you ask, tugging at his nice oversized hoodie. he nods, you lean back to let him pull it off of his frame, throwing the hoodie somewhere on your floor.
you made a mental note to defiantly steal that later.
it is so fucked up this man hides this monster of a body behind all those baggy clothes.
you can’t help but stare at his defined chest, running a hand down his stomach and to his hard cock. he moans when you rub him over the fabric of his pants, the heat of your hand making him go lightheaded.
your thumbs hook in his waistband, tugging down his hips, he helps you, bringing them down to his ankles.
you watch the way his thick, pale cock sits so pretty standing up against his stomach, the tip raging and pink from all the teasing.
you reach down to run your thumb over his slit, making him shiver. you felt bad teasing, but his reactions were so adorable.
you kiss and suck marks down his neck, down to his defined chest that you just wanted to bite.
his eyes go down to your throbbing pussy, his thumb innocently pulls apart your folds, rubbing at your clit generously. you mewl against him, hand gripping tighter against his cock.
if just your hand felt this good, he was imagining how amazing your cunt is gonna feel.
he was embarrassingly close, but he didn’t wanna cum like this.
“please” he pants, pushing your hand away. you lean in to kiss his cheek.
“hmm?” you look at him, curiously.
“wanna fuck you so bad, pretty. please let me fuck you, you’re so perfect i-“ he begs. you shut him up with a heated kiss, tongues clashing together as you give him mercy.
you set your knees on either side of his thighs, hovering over his cock.
“tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” you sweetly smile at him.
‘doubt it’ he thought. but he nods, promising.
you line him up with your entrance, very slowly sinking down on him, your face scrunches up a bit from the stretch of his sheer size.
you sigh when you’re finally seated on his pulsing cock, his hands gripping hard at your waist. his head against your shoulder in concentration of not cumming on the spot.
on instinct he bucks up into your heat, making you groan and squeeze around him, hips rolling.
“f-fuck, don’t do that or i’m gonna cum” he moans, hands holding you in place so you don’t squirm.
you giggle, kissing his cheek down his jaw, letting him collect himself.
after a few moments he does an experimental roll upwards, making you softly gasp. he keeps doing this. wanting more friction, you start bouncing yourself up and down his cock.
"s'big" you whine.
he moans, hands groping at your ass to help you ride him. he looks up at you, tits bouncing through your thin little top.
“so pretty” he lifts up the bottom of your shirt to uncover your tits, taking one into his mouth. you whine, leaning into him to feel him closer.
he nibbles and sucks on your tits, pulling off to stare at your fucked out face. you stare down at him, eyes half lidded and mouth slightly open.
“kiss” you mumble to him.
he leans in, giving you a messy kiss as you fuck each other with a need for more. the way his dick fit deliciously inside of your snug pussy, almost sucking him in completely.
your hands tangle in the back of his hair, tugging and making his hips sputter. you try to do it again, but he removes your hands and puts them back on his shoulders.
"next time, g-god, m'gonna fuck you for hours, baby. promise." he pants, sucking dark red purplish marks into your poor neck.
you moan at the idea of a next time. maybe he'd take you out first on a cute date, make sweet dinner or lunch plans for you two.
or maybe he'd just take you to his dorm room and fuck you into his desk like he's been dreaming of for months. marking you up so everyone can see your matching hickies in lecture, knowing how pussy whipped you have him.
either way works.
he uses his strength to flip you back under him, never pulling out of you. he knew he was gonna cum soon, he was trying to put it off for so long but you’re making it too hard.
your head lolls back into the soft pillow, moaning as the flimsy bed frame of the dorm room squeaking like crazy. if his dick wasn't hitting every good spot right now perfectly, you'd probably give a fuck if the people next door heard.
he pumps into you as your legs wrap around his hips, bringing him closer. he fucks into you at a needy pace, his head in your neck as he whines into your ear which you could barely hear over the filthy sounds of skin slapping.
“m’sorry, gonna cum, baby” he moans. your hands go back into his hair, humming.
“please cum in me, choso. need it.” you mewl, eyes threatening to roll back at the way the tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot with every harsh thrust.
you bring a hand to your neglected clit, rubbing furiously to catch up with him, legs shivering and cunt clenching.
he groans as he spills inside of you at the feeling of your walls contracting around him sending him over the edge.
“f-fuck! feels s'good choso.” you cry, cumming so hard you practically milk his cock.
you’re both panting, his body going stiff.
you push at his arm to make him get off of you since he was practically crushing you.
“sorry” he mumbles, his voice groggy. he reluctantly pulls out of you with a hiss, pulling his boxers back on and collapsing next to you.
“hand me that towel, please?” you point to the pile of clean laundry next to your nightstand, a fresh new towel sitting atop.
“yeah, shit, sorry.” he hands you the towel as you wipe down your inner thighs.
you put your now ruined panties back in place, noticing the way he's staring at you.
"what?" you smile, covering yourself with a throw blanket you keep on your bed.
he just shakes his head in a silent chuckle, plopping down onto the bed next to you. he moves a loose strand of your hair out of your face, finger running down your jaw to your kissed out lips.
your breath hitches at his gentle touch, his thumb dragging down your lower lip.
"nothing i just..." his eyes meet yours, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.
"really like you" he sheepishly admits. you smiled at how cute he is. he just came inside of you and he was still nervous around you. how sweet.
"well i'd sure hope so." you giggle, feeling the dull throb between your legs from a few minutes ago.
it wasn't like your intentions weren't completely innocent upon inviting him here. you always thought the quiet guy in your class was hot.
you thought it was so cute whenever you'd 'accidentally' brush against him and he'd either tense up or his face would turn pink.
"but if it makes you feel better..." you cuddle up next to him, head nuzzling into his shoulder as his strong arm wraps around your waist.
"i really like you too"
you also showed up to class the next day wearing his hoodie that you successfully stole. he acted annoyed, but secretly fucking loved it.
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a/n: i'm alive y'all i got my wisdom teeth out so i was not in a mood to write but i'm back!! hope u enjoy! sorry if the ending got a lil cheesy i'm trying to get better at dialogue since i usually just write pure porn.
(in need of jjk prompts i want the men so bad)
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leascorner · 2 months
Text
j.b.b. | Been dreaming about you
Summary: "I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.
Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, miscommunication (or no communication at all), Bucky depreciating himself, mention of war injuries, mention of physical attraction, mention of nudity and sexual act
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist
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Bucky stopped at the doorstep as Y/N’s laugh made its way to his ears. 
His eyes immediately found her, sat down at the kitchen’s bar, a box of cereal in her hand. She was heartily speaking with Sam, and like any time she was talking about something she was passionate about she was speaking with her hands. Bucky couldn’t make out what they were discussing, something about milk and cereals that seemed to leave Steve, sat with them, totally unbothered.
While he really needed a cup of coffee before Tony’s briefing, he hesitated to go in. He wasn’t really in the mood for small talk - truth was, these days, he wasn’t in the mood to talk at all, especially to Y/N. Eyeing the coffee machine Y/N’s had her back turned to, he decided she was way too into her conversation to even notice him. He could just go in, take his coffee and leave. 
Yeah, it was a solid plan. 
Though it was without counting on Sam calling after him, as soon as he put a foot in the kitchen. Y/N turned to him right away, her face lighting up.
“Hi!” She greeted him, a big smile on her lips that Bucky tried very hard not to look at all.
Bucky only responded by a sharp nod and nearly run to the coffee machine. Her smile faltered slightly at his cold attitude. She watched him get himself a cup of coffee for a second more before she looked back to her own cereal bowl.
Steve frowned to the exchange; he was used to Bucky and Y/N being quite friendly towards each over. Ever since Bucky had been back in the country, Y/N had been part of his rehabilitation protocol. While Tony and Bruce were working on reversing his trigger words, Y/N was working with Bucky as a physical therapist, to try and fix his chronic right shoulder pain. She had been an army physical therapist, serving one tour in Afghanistan, and was specialized on injuries that led to limb amputation.
While the beginning had been complicated - especially due to how unstable Bucky was at the beginning, Y/N had succeeded on getting Bucky to open up to her. The last months, Steve had even found out Bucky was more eager than before going to his PT session. Whenever Y/N was around, Bucky - who normally wouldn’t stay in the common room and much preferred to stay in the quiet of his own room - would linger a little bit longer with them. Despite whatever Bucky would say, Steve just knew his friend had a crush on Y/N (by judging how red his face turned that one time Steve asked him, it was a pretty good crush). 
The blond watched as Bucky left rapidly after he got his coffee. Y/N too had watched him, Steve realized when he turned to her. Her face was wearing a small frown, and her eyes were fixed on the last place Bucky could have been seen.
“You alright?” he asked.
As always, Y/N looked back to him and smiled. She didn’t fool him though. Steve didn’t know what was wrong and clearly, she didn’t know either.
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Over the next week or so, Steve found himself with a lot of déjà-vu.
Y/N would enter in a room Bucky was in and he would magically disappear. Bucky would find whatever good excuses not to do his physical therapy session - volunteering for missions he didn’t even have anything to do with in the first place. He even wouldn’t put a foot on the twenty-six floor - where Y/N had her office - if he knew she was most likely to be there - that was to say, basically every hour of every week day (Yes, Y/N had a slight work addiction).
It was clear for Steve now, Bucky was avoiding Y/N for whatever reason. Even Tony had asked if everything was alright between the two and he wasn’t the one to notice a lot of things about his own relationship - let alone other people’s relationship.
That morning, Steve had finally decided he would clear the air and talk to Bucky. He had asked him to join him in the kitchen for a coffee and this was of course at this exact same moment, Y/N had decided to get out of her office for some well-deserved break.
When she entered the room, Bucky looked like a deer caught in the headlights and stayed frozen in his seat, he didn’t have time to flee this time. Though he had been avoiding her, Y/N still seemed to be happy to see him.
“Hi!” she greeted them with a smile on her face. She picked her favorite cup from the cupboard and put the kettle on. She turned to Bucky naturally while she waited for the water to be ready. “How is your arm?”
“Well, actually.” Steve had barely heard Bucky as he mumbled.
“No pain whatsoever?”
“Nope.”
“Cool then!”
Y/N smiled as Bucky turned his attention back to his cup of coffee. She rolled on her feet, probably searching for a topic to continue the discussion - this was the most words they had exchanged in the last two weeks. She seemed to search and search again, but nothing came to her mind.
The sharp sound of the electric kettle stopping seemed to bring her back on earth. She looked at Steve and then back to Bucky, who was looking at everything but her. Again, Steve saw the way her smile faltered from his friend’s attitude and as her heart seemed to drop further in her chest. She was hurt he was pushing her away.
“Let me know if you need anything.” And without yet another glance at Bucky, she left. Totally forgetting about the cup of tea she was making.
Steve watched her go and then turned to Bucky, eyebrows furrowed. "What's going on between you two?"
Bucky looked up, eyebrows raised as if he was surprised Steve even asked about it. He didn’t even try to explain everything was fine and the blond didn’t know if it was because to him, everything was actually right, or because he was even surprised anyone had noticed his attitude.
“Don’t look at me like that. I know you were lying. It still hurts you.”
“’M fine,” Bucky muttered, eyes going back to his cup of coffee.
"Every time she is around lately, you just... disappear."
Bucky swallowed, hard. So it was that obvious. He really thought he was being subtle. He was such a nobody at the compound that making himself even smaller that usually, nobody noticed. Of course not.
"I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.
Oh! Steve seemed to understand.
"What's wrong about that?"
His friend gave him a knowing look. What was wrong with that? What was wrong with THAT? He had imagined kissing her, touching her, caressing her. He had seen what he imagined she looked like without her clothes on. It had felt real, so -so- real.
It had been a little bit more than two weeks now and he still remembered every little details. No matter how busy he was keeping his self, he still had flashes of it at the most random times of the day. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without reliving the scene, feeling her hands on his body and so he lived of no sleep and a lot of black coffee. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, it was driving him crazy.
Now, he couldn’t look at her without thinking about this. He tried his best not to be in the same room as her or not speak to her. The simple thought of being near her was overwhelming, let alone to have her touching him during one of his physical therapy sessions.
"Bucky, that's fine. She is one of the nicest person I know. She will tell you if that makes her uncomfortable, you'll talk about it and that will be fine."
Bucky groaned. There was no way he would admit this to her; this was already as embarrassing as it was to discuss this with Steve. He had been used to the other way around. In his past life, he had been the one giving Steve advices on how to act with the ladies, even setting him up on blind dates. Somehow, he felt like he was this thirteen-year-old looking at pinup posters in New York streets again.
"And you never know, she might be interested after all."
"How could she?” Bucky huffed, disgusted with himself. “Have you looked at me recently?"
When Bucky finished his cup and turned to Steve, his body language was indicating he was done with this discussion. Steve looked at him with one of his signature sympathetic glances. To Bucky, it felt more like pity than anything else. Steve was pitying him, old poor brainwashed Bucky, who had been kidnapped and forced to do horrible things. Hydra had made him a living time bomb and he felt it more than ever now.
"Come on Bucky, you know that's not true!"
Too late, Bucky was long gone.
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Bucky felt like he was cursed.
He had been trying to avoid Y/N. Just for a little bit longer, just for as long as he couldn’t forget about their dreamed intimate moment. Yet, he continuously found himself in situations where she was too. Like when Tony invited her to their weekly catch-up on how they were planning to remove his trigger words from his head. Like when Sam invited her to the team dinner.
Or like today, when he found himself in the elevator... Alone with Y/N.
They stayed silent for most of the ride. After the last few weeks of she couldn’t get Bucky to talk to her despite her best effort, Y/N seemed to be out of subjects to discuss and preferred looking at her hands. A minute before they arrived on the first floor though, she couldn’t help turn to him and ask the question that was burning her lips for a few days now:
"Did I do something wrong?"
Bucky looked up from his own feet to frown at Y/N, a couple of steps from him. He had purposely left a lot of space between them when she boarded the elevator, but even from where he was, he could still smell her perfume and somehow feel her skin touching his.
He frowned at her, as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. Y/N looked frustrated, even angry at little bit, and she had every right to be. They went from seeing each other twice a week for physical therapy session and sharing a few moments on every occasion they got to nothing at all.
She had replayed the events in her head, trying to find what she could have done wrong, and she just couldn’t make out what had happened.
"Your arm, it's bothering you, I can see," she pointed out. Even if he didn’t want to talk to - and even look at - her, she continued to watch out for him. "Why don’t you just come to me?"
"It's fine," Bucky sharply answered. A little too harshly.
The look of hurt on Y/N’s face made Bucky’s heart break. He knew he was unfair to her, yet he couldn’t admit what was going on. She was a too good person to be around him, a poor fuck-up man and a world known assassin.
Despite everything he was putting her through, Y/N didn't want to admit defeat and after the initial shock of the ton he had used to talk to her, she was ready to speak again.
“Please, just don't,” Bucky spoke more softly this time just at the same time as the elevator doors opened.
“Bucky, I-”
But he was gone before she could say anything more.
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Y/N was now avoiding him like the plague.
At first, Bucky had been relieved. Now, his heart only sunk when they shared a look and Y/N was quick to look away. He was longing to see her yet whenever he would go up to her office, she wasn’t there. She didn’t venture to the compound’s kitchen any longer; and he knew it because a small coat of dust had started to cover her favourite cup. He had even tried to ask Steve how she was doing, but the only answer he got was always a “why don’t you ask her yourself?” - after the way he had talked to her, Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do it.
As usual, Bucky would be having his last coffee of the day during his afternoon break, just before he would go meet the team for a strength training session at the compound gym. Steve and his reusable water bottle stomped into the room and huffed finding Bucky here. He continued his way to the water dispenser to fill it. Bucky watched, frowning, as he pushed the button so hard it nearly felt off. His annoyance was irradiating all around him and Bucky didn’t remember to have seen him so… sulking before.
“What’s going on?” Bucky asked his friend’s back.
Steve’s shoulder dropped as he seemed to take a breath in. He turned slowly, a shadow on his face. His water bottle was very close to being overfilled and his hand also very close to crush it.
“Y/N has resigned,” his voice was a bit deeper than usual, “effective immediately.”
“I don’t understand-”
“She is leaving, Bucky.”
The information seemed to get to Bucky’s brain in an instant. He immediately got up, literally throwing the stool he was sat on away. He run to the elevator and when it didn’t come quick enough, he decided he would run up the stairs to the level Y/N’s office was on. He ran up the corridor and nearly took the door of his office off the hinges while opening it.
Y/N was there, putting the last books she had on her shelves in a box. She stopped in her tracks from the surprise of the brutal intrusion and gave him a dirty look.
“I really don’t have time for this.”
Her voice was cold and sharp, and Bucky wondered if that was how he had talked to her. It hurt him so much to see only anger in her eyes and to know that everything they had shared was lost. All because of him.
And that was probably why he spoke without thinking:
“I’m attracted to you.”
Y/N dropped the book she had in her hand. She looked at him - he looked at her – and Bucky didn’t let any time for her to open her mouth to speak. He didn’t want to lose the courage he had gather to open up his shell.
“I’ve been attracted to you for… well, since being back, but I only realized this wasn’t just a crush – Peter told me that word – until very recently.” He breathed shakily. “I didn’t know how to handle. This (he gestured between the two of them) is much more than just physical attraction. I have feelings for you and I shouldn’t be feeling that.”
“Bucky…” Y/N sighed, getting around her desk to approach him.
“You and I know, I can’t be feeling like that,” Bucky repeated while Y/N shook her head. “And I am so sorry. I know this doesn’t change how badly I have acted towards you, but I hope with time that I can earn your trust again.”
“I am pretty sure we had this conversation before,” Y/N told him, putting away a string of his hair. She was now in front of him, so close to what they had never been in the last few months. “You can’t decide what other people can think or feel. I know it’s easier to push people away when things get tough, but we need you to tell us what is going on in this brain of yours. Okay?”
Tears in his eyes, Bucky nodded. Y/N smiled at him sweetly and all of his problem suddenly seemed to have disappeared.
“I understand this can be a very difficult thing to hear, but you are a good person, Bucky. Whatever happened to you doesn’t define you.” She hugged him, so hard, as if they were reunited after a long time away. “And for the record, I also have a crush on you.”
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bunny-1111 · 1 month
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I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂
Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,
...
Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school
Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you
Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out
That is where our story starts.
By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.
That's when it began.
His constant reminders of marriage.
That very morning.
When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.
"Good morn-" you start
"Marry me" he interrupted
"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this
"Marry me?" he smiled
"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him
"Come on, why not?" he pleaded
"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile
"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted
You thought it was a passing thought.
Something he wouldn't bring up again.
Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.
Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat
In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband
In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.
When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."
When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.
Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss
When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.
Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.
A box containing a ring.
That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.
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unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL
in my mind me and teddy r married
him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS
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iceunhie · 8 months
Text
indirect kiss moments !
summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....
featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham
notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)
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WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working
wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.
why, you ask? it's all because of you.
he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.
all because of a damn indirect kiss.
his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.
it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—
….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.
if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.
[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.
you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]
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KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)
kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.
it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.
…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.
small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.
perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?
oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.
[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.
the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]
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[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.
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fanaticsnail · 7 months
Text
You Deserve Better
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here
Word Count: 5,835
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Synopsis: Zoro has inhaled pollen while lost and away from his crew. His crew return from a day of celebration and tease him for is senseless navigational skills. But you notice something's wrong with him. He's hot. So, so hot. And he needs your help to combat his illness. You want to help him so badly, why won't he let you get Chopper? And why was he holding you like that?
Warnings: Pollen!Zoro x afab!reader, smut, mdni, p in v, mutual pining, apprehension, longing, giving in, pollen, NSFW.
Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314
Notes: This was the brain child between me and sordid from waaay back when. Needed to be finished, and here it is!
Zoro had gotten lost, his own confident footing carrying him in a rhythmic trudge towards where he assumed the meeting place for the crew was occurring. It was only when he apprehensively knocked on a door of a strange hut, asking the resident for directions, that he was made painfully aware of truly how far away he was from the coordinates. He missed lunch, he missed the meeting and introductions of the town; his absence truly being noticed due to his status as first-mate to the Straw-Hat Pirate crew. 
Turning back around, he began the long trek to the docks. His shoulders crushed with unfamiliar twigs, branches, bushels and foreign leaves he was yet to learn the proper names for. Losing his footing, his right foot fell within a small catchment; a deep puddle of water causing him to stumble in his footing, and fall face-first into a bushel of white flowers. He coughed, the pollen entering his lungs through his nostrils and parted lips. 
“What the fuck,” he growled, swiping at his face and blowing puffs of air from his nose and gasping for breath. The floral scent stung at his eyes, a rasp catching in his throat and forcing his Adams apple to bob painfully as he gulped his collected saliva in to rid the tang from his tongue. 
Sneezing, coughing and sputtering all the way back to the ship, he felt strange. His skin felt hot, his clothes were scratching his skin and overwhelming him beneath the fibers of mixed cotton and twine. He was too hot, he was too sweaty and he was– –what was this feeling? No stranger to rage, anger and frustration; he simply pegged it to be one of the three as he continued to stumble-trip his way back to the ship; his dampened boot leaving a trail of mud behind him.
After his boots finding residency back in familiar territory, he slowly made his way below deck to the kitchen. If he could just avoid everybody, take a drink of water and a shower, he was sure that would quench this rising feeling in his chest. Everything was burning; his face, his esophagus, his chest, his thighs, his calves, his cock —- why was everything so hot?
Of course the cook was in the kitchen, where else would the waiter be at a time like this. Sanji’s lips were moving, his tone lengthy, low and likely taunting him. Zoro paid him no heed, focussing on slowly breathing as his body propelled itself forward to follow through the motions. Just get to the cupboard, get a cup, take the cup to the sink, fill the cup with cool water, drink the cool water, place the cup in the sink, go to his bunk for the night, strip himself naked, furiously pull his cock until his cum painted the inside of one of his old socks, and finally rest. That is what would fix his ailment, he’s certain of it. 
Instead, his small calculated routine was halted before he placed the cup back into the sink; his thirst quenched.  Following his meticulously thought out actions were stopped by the burning initiated by Sanji’s hand placement on his shoulder, gripping him to gain his attention.
“-there were so many beers and ales, and you didn’t get to sample any of them,” Sanji dryly laughed his taunt back into Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji was expecting Zoro to taunt him back, their comradery being one built on mutual taunts and jabs. Instead, Zoro clenched his jaw harder, his hand almost shattering the cup he was placing in the sink beneath his firm grip. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sanji asked him firmly, pushing the swordsman’s shoulder to turn him to face his grey-blue hues. Zoro kept his eyes shut, his jaw almost breaking with how tightly his teeth were wrenched together. Feeling another rise of the scratchy tickle within his throat, he had no time to bring his palm up to stifle the cough - a small amount of the foreign pollen extending from Zoro’s lips into Sanji’s breathable oxygen. 
“Fuck, man, cover your mouth next ti-,” Sanji’s pupils immediately dilating, his waterline swelling with glossy water, “-why doI-I-...” Sanji felt the effects immediately. Eyes widening with panic, a warm blush rising to Sanji’s cheeks, he fled his grip against the swordsman’s shoulder and hastily sprinted out of the kitchen to barricade himself in his crew quarters. 
Zoro grinds his teeth, clenches the bench to steady himself against it - nearly breaking with how hard he's clutching it in his white-knuckled grip. Breathing exclusively through his nose, hissing as the elevation of his lungs propels further torture and the flushed heat downwards to sit in his abdomen. Every part of himself was now tense, hard and fighting this rise of emotion. 
Alerting Nami you were going to the kitchen to see if everything was okay with the swordsman, his absence missed by the Straw-Hat crew as you all ate foreign foods, drank foreign drinks and learnt the customs of this unfamiliar land. You saw Sanji rush past you, his irises wild, on your way to the area Zoro sat. You became even more unsettled seeing Zoro red-faced and seemingly in excruciating pain as he gripped the sink and benchtop to steady himself against it. 
You closed the door of the kitchen behind you, slowly approaching the green-haired first-mate and presenting your palms out to indicate you were not a threat. 
“Zoro?” you asked him, keeping your voice quiet but firm, “Are you okay? Is something the matter?”
“I’m fine,” he spat in a winced growl, his eyes clamped shut, “Just get out and leave me alone.” 
You furrowed your brows at his harsh tone, unsure of what exactly is coming over him. Both the tone and words catch you by surprise. You almost always kept each other company; finding one another at the end of a grueling battle, sitting side by side at meal times, and often repairing damage to each other’s bodies that were ill-achieved by yourselves. Beyond that, he’s never sent you away. While you’ve seen him snap at others, you’ve yet to be on the receiving end - especially for simply asking him how he is.
Instead of listening to his verbal words of warning, you approached him. While his eyes were shut, you knew he didn't need them open to keep track of your approach. You knew this was a fact for sure when you see his lips curl into a grimace as you get closer, prompting you to wonder if you really should just leave. 
Truthfully, the reason for the grimace was coming from the fact he can hear every shuffle of your clothing dragging itself against your body. Your soft breathing rang melodically in his ears, the scent of your warm, spiced perfume dancing with the comforting smell of your skin held his every follicle rising on edge. He was having to pull his mind to reign it in, tethering it on a tight leash to keep it from gnawing on the idea of what it’d smell like if he pressed his nose into your hair or neck or chest. How you’d taste as he gnawed on the flesh of your stomach, how burying his face between your thighs and dancing his tongue against your tender flesh would feel-.
“-You’re making me worry, Zoro,” your soft voice called to him, the small pat of your footsteps indicating to the broody swordsman that your approach was now uncomfortably close. The back of your hand lands on his forehead to check his temperature and he pulls back like you’ve burned him. 
“What’s wrong-,” he’s struggling to form the words through the images of your thighs spreading beneath his firm grip. “What’s wrong,” his deep inhale through his nose did little to settle his elevated heartbeat, “Is that you’re touching me when I told you to go away.” 
He finally opened his eyes and you were struck with the intensity of them. His snarling mouth, furrowed brow, and scrunching eyelids certainly looked furious, but his eyes were glossy and shaky and darkened by blown pupils.
“Zoro, did you take something? Should I get Chopper?” Sighing out a small breath through your lips, looking between the hazelnut hues of Zoro’s eyes and forming your own deductions. He wanted to close his eyes again because you looked so, so pretty. Too pretty not to touch. 
Your eyes widened in confusion as he began to sway forward towards you. He was moving in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times, those times when he’d manage to find enough alcohol to actually become inebriated under the influence of its fermentation. 
“Zoro, I’m-,” he lunged in a deep stoop, falling forward to let his face fall into your stomach below your breasts. Allowing a deep inhale, he exhaled a low, shuddered groan into your skin. His body shivered and you feared this may be the worst fever you’ve ever seen of him. No injury, inebriation nor affliction had ever found purchase enough against the first-mate to cause you to worry - until now. 
“I’m gonna get you some help, okay?” You informed him, stepping back to get Chopper, only halting your exit as two hands stopped you. One fisted tight enough into your shirt for the seams to pop in protest, while the other sank into your hip. 
“Don’t,” he panted. This whole interaction has left you at a loss but you were truly astonished when Zoro nuzzled his face into you and massaged his hand into your hip. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grumbled, letting his voice vibrate against you through your clothes.
“Yes I am. You’re not okay, and I have to take care of you,” you hardened your resolve, reaching down and banding your hands around his wrists. 
If it were any other time, his heart would be aching at the worry in your tone. He adored how you cared for him, feeling all of your concern for his well being. However, at this current moment; he can only think of how your voice is so pretty and your body is so warm. And your scent, the intoxicating aroma your glistening skin was whispering and beckoning him to fall trap to your body. How could anyone smell so, so sweet?
You managed to actually get a step back, breaking the brace against his body and placing his hands away from you. Zoro is strong in his grip, but your concern had you force more strength than you thought you could muster. You heard a small rumbled sound, high in pitch and lengthy in elevation. 
Zoro whined. 
He had the gall to whine at you, making your hair stand on end to be thrown so far from your norm. With you at a distance, Zoro’s strength really did leave him. Your absence drained him, his body deprived of a necessity while writhing. He was a man starving with not a single scrap of sustenance, parched without a single drop of liquid to quench him.
His resolve hardened, his unanswered questions being answered with that single thought. You were a necessity. You would fix whatever this was; he just had to sink himself into by claw, tooth and nail you until no person could possibly tear him off of you.
You watched the towering form of the first-mate sink hopelessly onto his knees, his arms first reaching and clutching for you as soon as you shied away from his embrace, before stuttering them away in retreat. He was trembling, his hands resting on his large thighs with his head hanging low to shield his eyes from your gaze. 
"Zoro," you softly called to him, bringing yourself low and resting your weight on your shins. Inching your way forward, you witnessed him suck in a breath and hold it in his chest with his eyes scrunched tightly shut.
"Zoro," you said, reaching your hands down and claiming his wrists in your circular grip, "if you don't want me to get Chopper," you released one of his wrists to collect his chin, "you have to tell me how to help you. What do you want? What can I do?"
Zoro fought harder against himself, every fiber of his being forcing him to continue to hold his breath to halt his urgency to claim you within his arms and never let you go. All of his thoughts were consumed with you: your scent, your softness, your voice, the way you tainted the air with your sweet flavor he desired to taste. He slowly, apprehensively, hissed out a breath, his shoulders quivering and shaking under the influence of the pale pollen propelling his unholy desires and sinful thoughts forward. 
"I w-want," he began, halting his words and wincing under your fingertips. Although your touch burned him, he could not bring himself to shy away from your hand. The way you felt, the way you so desperately craved for him to speak his desires and birth them within the air. He stifled once more, every second passing led to more of his control over himself lessening. 
"Zoro, let me help you. Whatever you need, know that I'm-," your words were claimed from you, Zoro's towering form caging your body beneath his strong arms. He hovered above you, eyes black with lust and lips parted with longing. He was an animal, the temperature falling off of him elevating your own beneath it. 
Wasting not one more second, he collapsed on-top of you, bringing his lips down and pressing rough and desperate kisses along your neck and jaw. All passion: tongue, teeth, lips and caresses - Zoro was consuming you as if he was a man starved and desperate for sustenance only you were able to give him.
The whining, the whimpering, the groaning as his hips begin to roll against your thigh we're spurring your confusion to swirl within the recesses of your mind. While unable to fully process the actions, Zoro began pleading with you; his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver up your spine. 
"I can't-... I-I can't stop," he growled, continuing to rut himself against you. The rough smack of his clothed hips did nothing to hide his impressive length and girth from you. His grinding down into you, the way your body writhed beneath him, propelled him enough to staple you to the ground beneath his hips. 
A strong arm had snuck its way beneath you, a splayed hand could keeping your chests pressed flush while his other guided your thigh over his hip. You eagerly wrapped both legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, feeling his taut muscles move and shift under your hold. 
He forced both of his hands to your hips, intending to hold them still and pull away, but you rolled them in his grip. His eyes followed suit, rolling back and leaving him to blindly bury his face deeper into your shoulder. “Please let me, I’m s-so so sorry, I cant-...hnng-... I c-can't stop. I n-need you-uu.”
"It's okay, it's okay Zoro," you gasped, your cheeks pressing firmly against his as you heard him stagger his breath and hold onto every word. You raked your fingers through his moss-coloured locks, reassuring him and soothing him by whispering your silencing shushes. Although some dark part of you wanted to continue listening to him beg for you, you instead offered only support and continual reassurance.
You turned your cheek inwards, breaking contact flush against his cheek to press a small brush of your own lips against his smooth skin. This apprehensive and timid gesture prompted him to groan beneath your lips as his skin ignited further. 
“More,” he mumbled fervently after the kiss, the affection doing much more to ease his stress than your words were, “Give me more.” The gentle peck was too achingly sweet to only placate him, instantly holding him hostage to his need to feel more of you. 
The squeeze of your legs on his waist, and the heat he could feel pressed against his cock even through your clothes, strung him tighter and pulled him further from sanity. The hand in his hair and the brush of your lips, made the haze on his mind feel welcome; The boiling in his veins feel more natural. 
You gave him more fluttered kisses on his cheek, then floated your lips up his temple before tilting your head back to cradle him beneath your chin. You raked your arms over his shoulders, your fingertips leaving trails of flamed temptation beneath each pad and digit. Each motion was done to the tune of “more”, “so good”, and “please”. 
You were heavily tempted to let him keep you trapped against the floor and caged beneath his weight, being used for his needy grinding; but a moment of clarity hit you. You were in the galley, and your crew members could swing the door wide and see you both like this; writhing and grinding pelvises together in a cruel dance of lewd gyrations. 
While you had your own qualms with this, you were sure Zoro would rather die than have him looking in his current state getting back to the ship’s chef. Casting all inhibitions aside at one particularly harsh grind against your clit from his painfully hard cock, you verbalized your concerns for him.
"Zoro, you're behaving like an animal- a beast: wild and rampant with lust,” your whisper carried itself up to his awaiting ears. You didn’t know what came over you, but you retreated away from holding him and pushed him up to view his expression.  
“You’re frightening me," you whispered into his face, claiming his cheeks beneath your palms. Both of you were whimpering, panting; eyes wide and lips parted. You leant up to his face, your lips almost meeting for the first time since he caged you beneath him. Holding back the meeting of your lips, you spurred him on with a single three-worded command.
"Do it again."
Zoro growled as he broke away his hand clutching your thigh, fumbling at his hips to unsheathe one of his three blades attached to his belt. As soon as he grasped the hilt of the blade, he tore his torso away from its place against your chest and threw the object to imbed itself within the doorframe: barring the entrance to the kitchen under its sharpened steel. 
Looking up at his body, his entire being was overwhelmed with sweat, pooling from his green hair to trickle down his temples to his neck and jaw. The silvery trail of desperation and lust dripped down his chest beneath his shirt and drenching him further beneath the pull of the powerful pollen. 
He was not himself, fighting every urge to hold control over his body. He wanted this - he wanted you. Just not like this. He wanted to do things right by you; courting you properly, enjoying his time learning everything there was to know about you. He adored spending his time silently by your side - often shielding you from harm's way and protecting you within the thralls of battle, not that you truly ever needed it. 
But the way his cock was straining behind the shield of his pants had his mind cloudy, eyes stinging while attempting to hold the final remnants of control over himself. 
“Y-You don’t know what you’ve asked for, Princess,” Zoro growled, his eyes slowly tilting down from contact against the door to slowly fall to meet your widened gaze beneath him. Your breath hitched as you were met with something completely feral overcoming him. His expression depicted his title flawlessly. You were now completely helpless, pinned beneath the towering intense muscle known as Roronoa Zoro: the former demon bounty hunter, pirate, and king of hell. 
His eyes held the vibrant lustful intensity of raging flames burning flesh, his predatory grin snapping his face with his grimace. His brow was furrowed in a deep frown, the final band of his control straining against the stretch; thin, pale and ready to snap. 
As Zoro gazed into your eyes, holding all that he was from tearing off your garments and sheathing his cock deep within your walls and chasing his release of tension, he continued to clasp onto his final band of control to ensure you were truly okay with your body being used in such a way. 
Sensing his apprehension, you swiftfully and gracefully bucked your hips up to meet his, rolling him off of your body and pinning him beneath you. Your hands grasped his wrists and placed them above his head. His teeth grit against themselves, grinding them down painfully to continue holding himself back from ravishing you. He was a swordsman. He was disciplined under the way of the blade. 
“Zoro,” you began, sighing down with your eyes upturned in concern, “I know you are not well, and this may be the only solution to your problem.” You reassured him, claiming both of his wrists between your left hand, you placed your right hand over his heart and pressed gently on his chest. 
“Let me help you like this, okay?” You offered him a half-smile, “We can work out what it means once you’re through the worst of it. I just want my swordsman back,” you placed your lips against his forehead, feeling the scorch of his flesh burn your lips as he whimpered into your touch. “My knight, my protector,” you whispered against him, pulling back from his face and uttering affectionately, “Just let go. I can take it.” 
If you’d held any fondness for your pants and shirt, or your undergarments, there was no ribbon left salvageable as Zoro all but clawed them from your body. His own shirt and pants were not fairing in any better condition lying beside them. The throbbing of his veiny cock curving painfully hard upwards towards his stomach had you wincing in empathy at how hard he was holding back. 
The slit was slickened, pearled beads of precum glistening against the shine of his reddened mushroom tip. You could almost see the harsh thundered beat of his heart depicted in the rush of blood swelling his shaft, the veins protruding and pulsating in the air. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, nor halt the fluttered hitch in your breath at the girth of it.
“I-I wanted this to be different,” he breathily confessed, his body moving against his will to cage you beneath him once more. His cock twitched at the opening of your walls, a shuddered groan igniting tingles over his back as his tip prodded you, “I wanted to warm you up, stretch you wide with my hands some so you could take me easier. Y-You deserve better.”
A small shocked scream fell from your parted lips as his body lunged forwards, his hips snapping to fully sheath himself within your walls in one fell strike. You were thankful you allowed yourself to give into the lewd grinds and circled thrusts from earlier to allow some slickness to coat your walls with your arousal. He filled you completely, your body contracting and adjusting to him with each passing flutter.
He bit his lip painfully hard, his eyes scrunched shut as he felt each quiver of your walls soothing over his burning flesh. This was the remedy his body was searching for. He needed you. All of you. Every fibre of you. The taste of you, the smell of your flesh, your sweet cries falling from your parted lips as you adjusted around him. He wanted so badly for this to be as good for you as it was for him, holding his concentration to allow you a moment to catch your breath. 
“I can still take you like this, Zoro,” you taunted him with a gentle hum of encouragement. He snapped his eyes to yours, his pupils completely dilated and the corners of his eyes still stinging with concentration to not rail you completely into the harsh floor. You noticed his panicked expression, knowing exactly what his mind was plagued with. 
The words left unspoken holding heavy in the air, his eyes begging you to understand his meaning instead of attempting to articulate his words. The throb of his cock within your warmth propelled your heartfelt encouragement onto him.
“D-Don’t you worry about me, okay?” you reaffirmed him, your eyes depicting nothing other than adoration and affection for the first mate, “Use me,” you drew your palm up to his cheek, holding your gaze intimately with his, “Just let go.” 
At that final command, he drew his hands over your thighs and hooked them over his hips once more; starting a heavy laden rhythm with the smack of his hips. He withdrew himself almost to his slit before pistoning his cock within your walls fast and harsh. You clapped your hand over your lips to stifle your cries of pleasure as his velvety cock continued its bullying of your cervix. 
Every fiber of your being was alight and adjusting to quench the fire of Zoro’s insatiable lust, adoring the chase of his release being pushed brutally into your quivering walls. His cries for you, reciting your name like a prayer as he quested for his salvation buried within your body. 
He was an animal, a wild beast possessed his body and propelled him onwards to seek out his pleasure within you. His eyes never left yours; the man you knew before the beast lurking beneath his glazed gaze. Zoro was expressing gratitude and almost sorrow behind his lustful alterego. 
“I-I’m so-....nmff-... I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, his pace accelerating harshly. The grip of his hands on your thighs bruised their way up to find purchase on your hips, You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, shaking your head and hooking your arms over his shoulders to draw his head into your neck.
“It’s-... hhah-... okay, Zoro. It’s o-okay, truly,” you reassured him, your voice hitching on each syllable as the snap of his hips accelerated in their bruising thrusts, “I’m okay, y-you’re okay.” Your reassurances held his voice sighing out his relief while he continued to chase his high within you. 
His words became jumbled, the mixture of his precum and your arousal squelching sinfully with each harsh slab and thrust of his cock sheathing itself within your walls. If anyone were to walk past the kitchen, they would know exactly what was going on against the floor. Breathy chants of your name fell from Zoro’s lips as the coil within you began to tighten and spark the wick of your approaching orgasm. 
Unknown to you at present, as soon as Zoro initially sheathed himself within you; he was holding himself back more to ensure this was an experience as enjoyable for you as it was for him. He was biting his lip so painfully to ensure he didn’t cum as soon as his pelvis met with your own. He wanted to watch you cum, he didn’t want to be a selfish lover and use your body to chase his own high. No matter how torturous it was to hold himself back, he was accustomed to pain and this was no different. 
But you noticed. The way his brow was intensely furrowed as his forehead hid itself against the skin of your shoulder. The quiver of his own shoulders and his whimpered cries against you gave you cause to draw such a heinous conclusion. Zoro was in pain, and he was still not seeking the treatment your body was giving him. He was still putting you first.
You sighed as you felt his cock continue to quiver within you with each harsh snap, the pleasure he was bringing to you was overwhelming with the bruising pace he still held. Hardening your resolve, you reached your hands down and dug your nails into his ass cheeks and propelled him to grind himself against you further and deeper. You refused to have this pain elongate further for him, and felt the urge to remind him as such.
“Zoro, cum,” you ordered him, his breath hitching at your command, “I know what you’re doing, idiot. Cum in me. I want you to shoot your cum deep in me. I want to feel you ride out your orgasm with each pulse and throb of your cock. I want your cum so bad, Zoro. Cum in me-.”
“-Fuck! F-Fuck,” He barked, biting down on your shoulder harshly as his cock began to release his built up load immediately into your plush walls. Ribbons of his white translucent paint splashed against your walls, the muffled screams of Zoro’s voice crying praises while latched against your skin. He continued the harsh stuttered pace as he rode out his release. 
He was so built up with his relentless pleasure that the pressure of his cum brushed against the underside of your clit, his pubic hair grinding on the topside at the same time and prompting you to ride the waves of your own orgasm alongside his. Lights danced behind your eyes as the spark drew into a vibrant flame. 
Your fingernails continued to dig in the muscle of his ass as you both cried in bliss, your mouth agape while his teeth continued to clamp over your shoulder. His tongue lapped behind his teeth as his groans and whimpers began to die down as his hips came to a staggered halt. His cock remained fully sheathed within you, the final twitches and trembles relinquishing his body of the final spill of his load emptied within you. 
Panting of dual breaths within the four walls of the kitchen, the fuzziness of Zoro’s mind became once again his own, his eyes losing their glaze and his cock twitched its last within you. You whimpered as you came down from your high, the pain of Zoro’s teeth remaining latched on your neck had the realization dawn on both of you at once. 
“I-I…” he stuttered once he released your shoulder from his teeth, “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He stuttered, pulling out of you with his cum spilling from your opening and pooling on the floor beneath you. His eyes were wide, his lips swollen and bruised. Your own eyes widened at his panic, immediately rising to your elbows and looking up at him.
“You’re sorry we-,” you began, only to halt as he spoke over you.
“-No,” he barked his confession over you, stooping his body over yours once more, “I’m sorry it happened like that.” He wanted so desperately to relay all of his affection onto you, all of his adoration, all of his love - but was now lost for words as your eyes met his. 
You darted your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs, shifting your focus as you witnessed his afterglow. His body was lighter, his mind no longer plagued by lust. He was once again-.
“-Roronoa Zoro,” you uttered, collecting his hand beneath your palm and allowing a warm smile to spread over your lips, “I don’t regret helping you like this.” You drag your hand over his cheek, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and hold his focus with the intensity of your eyes. “I’m glad you’re back to yourself again. If this is where we leave our tryst-.”
“-Absolutely not,” Zoro growled. The rumbled tone of his voice had your breath hitching and mind halting its springing to conclusions, “I want you more than you could ever know.” He leant forward, his eyes shutting as he met your forehead against his own; your cheek still claiming his cheek beneath your palm. His temperature was more bearable, the warmth you were more accustomed to bringing you comfort. 
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch and allowing him to shepherd your body to the ground once more. He combed his fingers down the crown of your head, his fingertips gently raking their pads over your jaw as he finally claimed your lips beneath his in a slow and intimate kiss.
He parted his lips, dragging his tongue to meet against your own with a small groan of bliss. You felt him smile against your lips as you drew your arms around his neck once more. Toying with the small hairs at the back of his neck, you angled your jaw upwards to claim more of him against yourself. 
The rattle of a door handle broke you away from this moment of private intimacy, the wobble of the door shuddering beneath a strong grip immediately caused you panic. You were naked. Naked on the floor in the kitchen. Your clothes lay beside you in ribbons, nothing aside from a dish towel could be used to shield you from prying eyes. 
“Oi, Zoro! What’re you guys doing in there?” The voice of your captain called to you, “You better not be getting all the meat from the fridge! I took that from the celebration, it was your own fault you didn’t get there in time to try any-.”
“-We’re not eating your meat, Luffy!” Zoro roared, breaking his lips away from yours to answer him, “Bring us my yukata and some of my pants, would you?”
“Your Yukata and pants? What happened?” Luffy asked, puzzled momentarily before slyly asking into the door, “And what do I get outta it?” Zoro growled a woeful sigh, lips curling up to a snarl. Your warm smile and giggle broke him away from his anger, his eyes softening as they met yours once more. 
“Just bring them, will you? Then we’ll let you get your meat, Captain,” Zoro chuckled while leaning down to press his lips against yours once more. Although the air was lighter, your body began to succumb to the feeling of warmth falling from Zoro in waves. He hoisted you from the floor to sit atop his lap as his back sat flush against the kitchen counter. Seeking out the small bite he’d left on your shoulder, he began pressing fluttered kisses in apologies against your flesh. 
“I’m sorry,” he confessed once more between kisses, “I want to do this properly - be with you properly. You deserve better.” You sighed at his words, exposing your neck more to him in a gesture for him to continue pressing kisses into more of your available skin.
“I can take it,” you gasped, feeling his teeth rake slowly against your flesh as he moulded the skin of your back beneath his splayed fingertips. He gasped into your skin, still dizzy from coming down from the risen high between you both but mind truly clear of all prior affliction.  
“I know you can,” Zoro grinned into your skin, pulling away to gaze into your eyes. All affection was mirrored between you; eyes half lidded and smiles dopey and tired, “But you still deserve better. Let me treat you better.”
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eupheme · 1 month
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— sharing is caring
[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 4k
tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink
It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.
(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)
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The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.
It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.
A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.
It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.
Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.
Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.
You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.
Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.
But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.
Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.
"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."
It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.
"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"
Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.
“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”
It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.
“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”
Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.
"Don't have one."
It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.
'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"
Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."
"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.
Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.
Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”
There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.
“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”
There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.
“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”
As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.
The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.
“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”
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You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.
A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.
You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.
He doesn’t let you down.
“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”
It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.
There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.
“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”
That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.
Teasing. Logan is teasing you.
You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.
It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.
How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.
You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.
“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”
Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.
“Thought it was a one-time thing.”
You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”
And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.
He huffs, and your voice softens.
“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
The look he gives you is searching.
“Wade put you up to this?”
You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek.
“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”
Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.
Neither one of you had stood a chance.
“I’m sorry.”
You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.
“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”
There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.
Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.
Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.
You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.
This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.
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“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”
Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”
There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.
Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.
Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.
Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.
Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.
“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.
Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.
“I’m talking to king dong right here.”
There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”
“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”
He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.
It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.
“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”
Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.
“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”
A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.
“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”
The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.
“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”
There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.
He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.
“Cold day in hell before that happens.”
It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.
“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.
“I have a way of making people beg.”
You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.
The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.
There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.
It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”
Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.
Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.
“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”
The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.
“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.
Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.
A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.
You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.
It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.
“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.
There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.
A kiss dropped against your shoulder.
“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.
“That’s okay, I do too.”
His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.
A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”
Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.
Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.
“Room for two, honey.”
There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.
“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.
His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.
Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.
“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”
A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.
“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”
There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.
“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”
“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”
He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.
A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.
It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.
There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.
Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.
“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”
Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”
“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”
Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.
“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”
Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.
“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.
“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”
You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.
“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”
You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.
Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.
Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.
Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”
It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.
“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”
Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.
Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.
Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”
You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”
His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.
“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.
Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.
The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.
His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.
“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”
The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.
And if you were a betting girl…
You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.
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Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.
“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”
A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”
Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.
Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.
A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”
Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.
“Don’t ruin it.”
Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.
“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.
His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
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thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!
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corroded-hellfire · 1 month
Note
Older Eddie idea! May be he goes to eat reader out and she says no and he's like oh and she's like yea I haven't showered all day so u can't and he's so confused and she's like yea cuz what if it smells bad?! And Eddie comforting her and then making some comment on how he's a man (bc let's be honest boys her age r little bitches)
Is there anything better than older!Eddie going down? I think not.
Words: 1.1k
Warnings: smut, oral, f!receiving, older!eddie
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Your back bounces against the mattress as you land on top of the brown comforter. Eddie smirks down at you, a hungry gleam in his eye as he tugs down the zipper of his coveralls. It didn’t even take him two minutes to get you in this position after walking in the door from work. It’s not like he would’ve had to work hard for it anyway—you were already counting down the minutes until his truck rolled up to the trailer. 
Eddie shucks off his navy coveralls and kneels on the foot of the mattress. His hands make quick work of yanking your shirt over your head, his own undershirt following yours to the floor. You scramble back towards the pillows and Eddie unbuttons your jeans with ease. They’re deftly pulled off, your pink cotton panties right behind them. 
But when Eddie lowers himself to his stomach and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, a different kind of urgency surges through you.
“N-No, don’t,” you say, unsuccessfully attempting to sit up. With the way your body is positioned against your boyfriend’s though, it’s practically impossible. 
Eddie stays where he is, just lifts his head up and looks at you with a furrowed brow.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“I, um…” Your face feels like it’s on fire and it’s difficult to look him in the eye. “I haven’t showered all day. So, uh, you c-can’t.”
Eddie looks even more confused now that you’ve attempted to explain. He lets your leg slip off his shoulder and he pushes himself up until he’s kneeling between your spread legs.
“Wait, what do you mean I can’t because you haven’t showered?” 
The embarrassment only grows and makes you want to curl up in your own skin and die. 
“Because, like,” you start, lips fumbling over your words, “what if it smells bad? ‘Cause it’s not…freshly cleaned.”
Understanding clicks in Eddie’s mind and his scrunched-up face relaxes. A beat passes and a small smile curls the corners of his lips and makes the faint lines near his eyes crinkle.
“Sweetheart, you think you have to shower before I go down on you?” Eddie shakes his head and crawls up your body. He hovers over you until he comes nose to nose with you, then he lowers his body to rest on top of yours, making you squeak as if he’s crushing you with his weight. He chuckles and nips at your nose before he continues. “Oh, my love. Not to be gross, but you could go all summer without bathing, and I’d still rip your clothes off and bury my face between your legs.”
“Eww,” you say with a laugh.
Your boyfriend’s smile grows when he hears the happy sound. He reaches up with one arm and his large hand cups the side of your face. 
“Baby, thinking about eating you out got me through most of work today,” he says. “Not once did it cross my mind whether you took a shower before you drove over here or not.”
“Really?” you ask, one hand coming up to play with the curls at the base of Eddie’s neck. “You thought about it most of the day?”
“You kidding me?” Eddie asks. “I couldn’t get a new engine into a pickup truck, so I was grumpy and my back hurt from being bent beneath the hood for so long. Thinking about that pretty pussy of yours is all that kept me from knocking the hood down and crushing myself.”
“Don’t do that,” you say with the most adorable pout that Eddie’s ever seen.
“I won’t,” he vows. “As long as you don’t keep these sexy legs closed just because you haven’t showered.” 
“Okay,” you agree softly.
“Whoever made you think that you have to do that is an idiot,” Eddie tells you. “Must’ve been some stupid boy.”
You nod and Eddie lets out an unsurprised hum.
“Stupid, stupid boys,” he mumbles, pressing kisses against your jaw. “That was the problem, baby. All you needed was a real man.”
A pleasant shiver goes down your body at his gruff tone. 
“Now, let me show you how a real man treats his woman.”
Eddie scoots back to his previous position between your legs and wastes no time licking a stripe up your folds. A low whine rumbles from your chest and Eddie smirks against your heat. He nudges your legs even further apart and flicks his tongue over your clit. 
Time stands still as Eddie’s tongue moves down to prod at your hole. His saliva mixing with your arousal causes a lewd smacking sound that only turns you on even more. 
“Fuck, I love this pussy,” Eddie growls against you. The vibrations only add to the exquisite pleasure. “You taste so goddamn good.”
“E-Eddie,” you whimper.
He moans against you in response, his tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, and he greedily aches for more. 
Your hands find his hair as your eyes slip closed in pleasure. Fingers tangle in his salt and pepper curls and your nails gently scratch at his scalp.
Eddie’s arms wrap around your thighs and pull you impossibly closer to him, his face practically drowning in your pussy. He’d die a happy man that way. 
The rapid rise and fall of your chest and labored breath have you lost in the moment, your body inching its way closer to ecstasy with every swipe of Eddie’s tongue. 
His lips attach to your clit, and he gives a harsh suck, practically inhaling your soul out of your body. 
“Jesus, Eddie, I’m—I-I’m so close.”
Your boyfriend’s nose nudges against your sensitive nub as his tongue works at your throbbing hole. He knows just how to wind your body up to its peak. 
“Fuck!” you cry as the wave crashes over you.
Sparks dance behind your closed eyelids while your hips buck against Eddie’s face. Normally, he’d hold them down but he’s enjoying you writhing against him, using him to wring every bit of pleasure out of your orgasm. 
When he finally pulls away, his chin is shiny with your slick. You’re still trying to catch your breath as he crawls up and attaches his mouth to yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
“How was that, baby?” he mumbles against your lips.
It takes a few moments before you’re able to speak.
“Thank God…Thank God I have a real man.”
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spencereidluver · 10 months
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D is for Diana
august 25, 2008
summary: You overhear Spencer calling his mother and telling her about you and how he's finally found someone like him and who can understand him.
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
_____
With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
_____
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist
view the masterlist in a calendar version! 
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a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definitelymy favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!
_____
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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simjaexy · 3 months
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Movie Theater
Pairing: Childhood Best Friend! Yang Jungwon x Fem! Reader
Synopsis: Your best friend, Jungwon, asked you out to go to the movie theaters, not knowing he was going to confess his love for you in different ways other people wouldn’t do.
Warning: Fingering, Grinding, Jerking off, Cursing, Kissing, Humiliation
Genre: Smut
Notes: A little Drabble. Not proofread, enjoy :)
The sweet smell of popcorn filled your nostrils as you inhale softly. Jungwon was talking to the cashier while you waited.
He invited you to go see a comedy movie to which you happily accepted. Recently you felt like Jungwon was acting a bit strange.
Flustering faces coming your way whenever you touch him. His tone a bit softer towards you than usual. You didn’t know what was wrong with him at all.
Of course you noticed this behavior cause you have a crush on him. Ever since you guys were little you always liked Jungwon in a way no one would like their best friend they’ve known for ages.
Snapping out of your thought, Jungwon came back with two tickets and popcorn with a drink holder. You quickly stood up and helped him out. He chuckled.
You both headed to the room and entered. There was a few people sitting, so you guys decided to sit somewhere in the back.
Jungwon lead the way pass a few people and took a seat near the middle of the row. You sat down next to him and sighed.
Jungwon offered you popcorn which you complied. You ate the popcorn while the movie started playing. While you were watching the movie, you didn’t notice Jungwon put a hand on your thigh.
You looked down and blushed when he started to put his hand higher. You said his name, only to be ignored. Jungwon stared at the screen like he wasn’t doing what he was doing to you wasn’t bad.
As much as you wanted him to continue, you knew you could get in trouble for doing this in a public area. You held onto his hand and put it on his leg just instead.
It only last a few seconds before he was back to putting his hand directly on your clothes core. You gasped and covered your mouth. Some people stared at you confused while others just ignored you.
You glared at Jungwon and whispered for him to stop. He ignored you once again and started to rub on your shorts. You gripped onto your cup and muffled you moans with your other hand.
“Look this is the funny part.” Jungwon said. Just as it showed the funny scene he went under your shorts and palmed your clothed core making you bite back your moan.
Jungwon and other people laughed at the scene while you were having a hard time not to let out a moan. He started rubbing on your clothed clit making you bit your lips.
He moved your underwear to the side and started to rub up and down on your folds. You lay your head on his shoulder shaking.
He entered one finger without warning making you gasp. You put your face in his neck to which he chuckled. You wanted to assume he was laughing at a funny scene, but it’s in a part where they are arguing.
He fingered you slow making you buck your hip for more friction. He hummed and entered a second finger making you mewl in his ear.
“Fuck.” He breathed out. He started going at a faster pace and palmed your bud while he kept fingering high with his fingers.
“Ugh, fuck wonie.” You moaned. He smirked and rolled his fingers in causing you to silently cry out.
You felt your orgasm approaching and whispered him to go faster to which he did. You felt the knot in your stanch finally snap and that’s when you let out a silent moan.
You gasped for air as Jungwon took out his fingers and gave you a look. You glanced over at him to see him putting his fingers in his mouth.
You glimpsed at the screen and noticed it was most likely halfway through the movie. You but your lip as you suddenly felt confident to do something to Jungwon as payback.
So, you our your hand on his clothes dick and rubbed it. Jungwon jumped up from his seat surprised. The popcorn was hiding your hand which was rubbing Jungwon painfully slow.
Jungwon cursed and put his hand over yours making you rub him faster. You retreat your hand back causing him to let out a little whine. You smirked and started to let your hand wander inside his sweatpants making him furrow his eyebrows.
People were laughing at a scene but you and Jungwon didn’t care about the movie anymore. Instead you were focused on pleasuring him. You gripped his dick through his underwear and started to stroke it making him throw his head back and let out a quiet groan.
He slowly bucked his hips and sighed. You started to go at a faster pace making his breathing turn raspy. You felt him twitch under your hand.
You put your hand under his underwear and gripped his dick hard and went back at a fast pace. He accidentally let out a loud groan causing people close by to look at both of you.
You gave them an apologetic smile, “Sorry he doesn’t feel well.” You whispered. They let out ‘oh’ and put their attention back on the screen.
Jungwon covered his mouth and shut his eyes tight when he felt his orgasm approaching. You gripped his chin with your other hand and harshly kissed him making him hum in content.
He finally came and continued kissing you. You took your hand out and licked his cum. He looked at you with a dazed look. You put your focus back on the screen and laughed at a certain part.
Jungwon just sighed and held your hand.
The movie finally finished and people fathered towards the door. You and Jungwon both got up and headed to the door.
“Did you like the movie?” You teased. Jungwon chuckled.
“It was something, but I think we left on a cliffhanger.” He said. You gave him a confused look.
“Is that so?” You replied. He nodded and whispered in your ear.
“I know I pulled a stunt on you, but you doing it back makes me think you deserve a punishment.” He whispered. You felt yourself getting wet again and bit back a smile.
“Well then what are we waiting for?” You sassed. He didn’t say anything, just stead grabbing your hand and dragging you to his car.
You felt the excitement bubble inside you, excited for what he’s gonna do with you once you two get back to his place.
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andvys · 2 months
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Dancing with ours hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter twenty three ⭐︎ And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink? fluff, lots and lots of fluff!
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Your first date night leads to another confession.
Word count: 12k+
Author's note: the whole date was all sweet Roe's idea, give her big creative mind a kiss, and give her some love too cause she's always helping me with this amazing story ♡ thank you @hellfire--cult
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
You’re met with complete silence when you wake from your sleep – no rain, no thunder, no howling wind and no flashing lights greet you this morning. Sunlight peeks through Steve’s drawn curtains, the golden color kissing his skin, letting it appear even softer. 
You blink the tiredness away and shift in his arms, prompting him to pull you even closer, for a moment you think he is already awake but his calm breathing and his closed eyes indicate that he is still sound asleep. His arms are wrapped around you, all night they have stayed there, his hands on your back, legs tangled with yours beneath the thin sheets and your head in the crook of his neck. You needed to feel one another, you needed to be close and you are certain that even if you moved in your sleep, you didn’t let go of each other. 
You rest your palm on his chest, over his beating heart and lay your chin on the top of your hand. You raise your other hand up towards his face, caressing his cheek, grazing his skin with the tips of your fingers, you admire the pretty man before you as you push his hair out of his face. 
Memories of the previous night start rushing in, making your heart beat faster.
No one could have prepared you for his confession, for the feelings he harbored for you, for the love he felt for a while now. You hoped there was something and yet it shook you to your core when he blessed you with those three words and told you of the future he pictured you in by his side, the little infatuation he had with you even when he never wanted to admit it to himself. 
Your eyes burn with tears of happiness, you think of the girl you once were, before the upside down, before Billy’s death, when all you did was admire the man who holds you in his arms now, refusing to let go. 
You wonder how things would have gone had you known of his little crush on you, you wonder if maybe then you would have found the courage to ask him out. 
Steve’s hands move to your waist, giving it a squeeze before he wraps his arms around you again, hugging you against his chest, he peeks his eyes open, his lips curl into a smile the moment he sees your pretty face staring at him and feels the touch of your hand on his cheek. 
Today he wakes up knowing that you are his, that he no longer has to pretend the way he started to. 
“Caught you,” he whispers. 
His words make you blush, though they hold more meaning than you think. 
He caught you, not in this moment, not after waking from his sleep to catch you staring and touching his face, no, he caught you – after years and years of falling, he finally opened his eyes, he finally stepped forward after recognizing true love, he finally reached his hands – his arms out to you, he finally pulled you into his embrace. 
Steve cups your cheek, his brows pull together when he notices the tears in your eyes. 
“Hey,” he whispers, looking at you with nothing but worry in his eyes, “what’s wrong?”
You smile at his question and you shake your head, leaning towards his palm, you press your lips against it, giving him a kiss, “nothing,” you whisper, an unwanted tear falls from your eye, he catches it with his thumb, not letting it roll down your cheek. “I’m just so happy,” you whisper. 
Steve’s eyes soften, something deep within his chest stirs the longer he looks at you. The same vulnerability that flickered in your eyes the night before, is still there, still the same, if not more intense. 
You are not afraid, not anymore. 
He holds your face gently and leans in, kissing you softly, something he can now do freely, whenever he wants to, whenever he feels like it. 
He is happy, just as happy as you are. 
“So am I,” he whispers against your lips and reaches for your hand, holding it in his own as he entwines his fingers with yours, “you make me happy.”
Your hand gets lost in his much larger one, the size difference making your stomach flutter. You give it a squeeze and peck his lips once more, you lean closer to him, nuzzling your nose against his cutely. 
Steve’s eyes light up and a chuckle falls from his lips, one of surprise and adoration. Just like on the night of the fourth of July, you kiss him gently and continue to rub your nose against his, giggling as you do so. 
Who would've thought that the girl with the rough exterior is secretly so adorable, that the alcohol in her that one night brought out the real side of her and not some drunk version of her that normally doesn’t exist. 
Steve wraps his arm around you, and runs his middle finger up and down your spine. 
“So, you’re really like this huh?” He grins, feeling giddy about getting to see this you.
At that, a blush creeps to your face, one that you hide by pressing your face into the crook of his neck. 
“Oh no, baby,” he whispers, reaching for your chin, he pinches it between his thumb and his index finger, tilting your head back up again so he can see your face and look into your eyes again, “don’t hide from me. I love it. I knew I was fucked when you acted like this on the fourth of july.”  
Your cheeks heat up even more but the adoring smile on his face makes it hard for you to look away again. 
“Shit, I’ve been making love to you since that night, baby.”
Steve watches the way your eyebrows draw together, the way surprise flickers in your eyes along with the love and the happiness that drives his heart crazy. 
“You have?” You mumble, just above a whisper, like you can’t believe his words despite what happened last night. 
He can’t hold back from kissing you again, that’s all he wants to do now, kiss you, hold you, touch you, love on you. 
“Yeah, you stole my heart, darling,” he whispers in happiness. “It’s all yours, I’m yours.”
He said these words last night, he said these words now, he will say them forever. 
Your lips curl into the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, a delightful giggle escapes you. You cup his cheeks and lean in, peppering his whole face with soft kisses, making him now giggle too. 
“I love you,” you whisper softly, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington.”
His heart could burst at any second, the feeling of your touch, your kisses, your words, you, you drive him crazy and he still isn’t sure if you realize just how deep his feelings are, if the words he gave to you the night before were even enough for you to understand the weight of the love he feels for you. 
To hear you say these words, to hear them from you, from the someone he admired from afar, in secret and in bitterness, the girl he thought could feel nothing but distaste for him, the girl that pushes away most people has and always had a soft spot for him – a soft spot for the guy that most people can’t even bring themselves to like yet love. 
But here you are, happy to be in his arms, crying tears of joy, unable to stop smiling and saying those three words he was hoping to hear from you, hoping all day and night that this dream might come true. 
And now it’s here, you are here and you are all his. 
The future he wished for is finally no longer out of reach, no longer something to unrealistically long for, it’s right in front of him. 
He remembers the future you told him of, the wishes and dreams you have, the ones so alike to his. 
“I love you,” he whispers along with your name that rolls off his tongue so beautifully, “and I hope you know that I’m never letting you go.” 
“Good, you better not–”
He presses his finger against your lips, shushing you, he looks into your eyes intensely, squeezing your side as a sudden rush of overwhelming emotions crashes over him. 
“You’re mine now, forever.” He flips you over and pushes you underneath him, getting on top of you, he leans down to kiss your neck, pressing his lips to the spot that makes you whimper. “My Blondie,” he whispers possessively and kisses under your ear. 
His deep, husky morning voice and the possessiveness behind his words make all your insides flutter. 
You cup the back of his neck and tug at his messy hair, arching your back and tilting your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck. 
“I’m all yours,” you whimper when you feel his hand on your thigh, he is gripping it tightly and you instantly start spreading your legs for him, feeling the heat in your stomach rising quickly and intensely. “I always just wanted to be yours.” 
Steve’s heart swells in his chest, his lips twitch against you as he continues to kiss your neck, sucking on your skin and marking you up without a care in the world. You no longer have to hide. Nothing is official yet but it’s very clear what you both want. 
A shaky sigh falls from your lips when you feel his hand dangerously close to your heat, when you feel him throbbing against your thigh. 
This is the first time you woke up naked in each other’s arms since your first time, it never happened again.
Steve moves up from your neck, pressing his lips back to yours, he kisses you slowly and deeply, savoring each second of this morning. His fingers move closer and closer to your core. 
He loves the heat of your body against his, your soft bare skin so close against his. 
“New rule,” he mumbles against your mouth, opening his eyes to look into your pleading, hungry ones, “we always sleep naked from now on.”
“Really?” You giggle. 
He smirks, shrugging, “hey, easy access,” he whispers before he finally touches you, slipping his fingers through your already soaked folds, teasing your entrance and collecting your wetness before he brings it up to your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles around it, making you gasp and whimper in pleasure. 
“O-Oh fuck,” you breathe, tugging even harsher at his hair and pulling out a groan from his lips. 
“You’re so wet, darling,” he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, he cradles your cheek and kisses your lips, admiring you and the way you get lost in the pleasure so quickly because of him. You are putty in his hands. And you are so beautiful, even more so when your lips part and your brows scrunch together, nothing but an awestruck, pleasured expression on your face as moans fall from you. “My beautiful girl,” he whispers as he slowly drags his fingers down, keeping his thumb pressed against your clit, even as he slides two of his fingers into you, making you gasp out even louder. 
Steve doesn’t know where to look, your gorgeous face as you fall apart for him or the way your body reacts to his touch, the way your chest moves and your stomach contracts, the way you clench around his fingers, the way you got them soaked and dripping already. 
“Feels so good but–” you pause with a whimper, pushing yourself up on your elbows, you look down and watch for a moment, the way he fucks you with his long fingers, splitting you open for his cock. You pull your brows together strongly, biting your lower lip as waves of pleasure crash over your body. You see him, you feel him poking into your thigh, his length hard and throbbing against you, his tip red and leaking. You need him, you need to feel him inside of you. 
“But what, hm?” Steve murmurs, loving the way you squirm beneath his body, the way you look at him with big eyes, begging for more, begging for him. He grabs your cheeks, holding them with one hand, “tell me what you want, honey.”
His chest hair tickles your skin, brushing against your hardened nipples, making you whine even more. 
“You–”
A gasp tears from your throat when he curls his fingers inside of you, just the right amount. His thumb pressing against your clit as his fingers start moving vigorously. 
“Fuck,” you whimper and shut your eyes, taken by the pleasure, completely enveloped by it. You thread your fingers through his hair, holding onto it as though your life depended on it. You throw your other hand around his wrist and open your eyes again to look at him. 
He won’t take his eyes off you, he watches you with pleasure. 
“I-I need–” your voice cuts off again, a vibrating feeling crashing through you when he moves faster, flicking his wrist back and forth, fucking you deeply and roughly, nudging your legs open further with his knee as he leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple, teasing you with his tongue before he sucks on it, not taking his eyes off you, not even for a single second. 
“Oh! Steve!” 
Steve’s stomach flutters at the needy tone in your voice, the slick sounds that make his dick strain even harder against your skin – he needs to be inside of you or else he will cum just from pleasuring you. 
“P-Please, I need your cock, I need you to be inside of me,” you beg, nearly crying out from desperation, you are so close already, tears burn in your eyes, your walls are tensing around his long fingers and your stomach is burning in need. “Please, Steve! Fuck me!” You grab his waist, squeezing him as you try to pull him back up against you. 
And who is he to deny his darling?��
You cry out again, but this time due to the loss of his fingers inside of you, the emptiness that takes over for just a moment before he grabs your hips and adjusts on top of you, breathing heavily as he uses your wetness to stroke his length. He licks his lips and looks at you through hooded eyes, giving you a slight smirk when he slips it through your folds, prompting you to pull him even closer, pouting at him so adorably that he can’t tease you any longer. His hand holds your hip firmly, he sucks in a sharp breath and watches the way your glistening pussy takes him, the way you suck him.
You watch his face, watch the way desperation clings at him, the way his lips part and moans escape him. 
It’s hard for you to keep your eyes open when he splits you open and pushes in so deeply to the point that your mouth waters. 
He says your name, he says it so beautifully and he repeats it like a prayer, his eyelashes flutter and his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 
His right hand snakes up to your chest, squeezing your boob and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 
“Stevie… fuck…” 
“Your pussy is sucking me in,” he groans and looks down, watching just how much his cock is glistening when he bottoms out before pushing back in, faster and rougher this time, making you jerk against him. 
You don’t know how you find the strength to but you wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer. 
Steve smiles lazily when he moves fully on top of you, caging you in with his arms, pressing them on either side of your head as he leans his forehead against yours, “hi baby.”
You snake your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer, needing to feel his lips on your, his chest against your own. 
“Hi baby,” you whisper, giving him a smile before you press your lips against his, closing your eyes and kissing him with all your love. Your lips mold together perfectly, your tongues meet. There is no roughness behind this kiss, just a deep passion that makes your heart beat stronger. 
And it’s all so perfect. 
When he starts moving, he rolls his hips slowly at first, blessing you with deep thrusts, making you both moan into the kiss but it doesn’t stay slow for long, you are both desperate and needy. Your breaths quicken, your bodies heat up, your moans turn into whines and his slow strokes move into deep and fast thrusts, he knocks the breath out of you so hard that you are unable to continue kissing him. 
Your mouth falls open, your eyes stay closed, you fear your vision would be blurry anyways if you tried to open them. He is so deep, so deep inside of you that you can feel him in your stomach. 
And he keeps kissing your lips, even if you are unable to kiss back now, he keeps on moving his lips against yours, breathing into your mouth, moaning. 
His chest hair brushes against your skin, his hair falls in front of his face and tickles your forehead, he keeps a protective hand over your head, cupping it so you don’t accidentally bump it against the headboard behind you when he fucks you a little harder after each thrust. 
He is guided by a possessiveness he hasn’t felt before, he now knows that you are his, wholeheartedly. And now it drives him crazy, in the best way possible. 
‘Mine. Mine. Mine.’ That’s all that echoes in his head as he gets lost in you, in the pleasure you feel because of him, in the way you cling to his body and whine against him, in the way he feels by making love to you. 
“Can’t believe you’re all mine,” he whispers against your lips and opens his eyes again to find tears of pleasure running down your cheeks, tears that he doesn’t hesitate to kiss away. 
You open your eyes as well and look at him through your tears, tearing a gasp out of him when you clench around his cock. 
You swallow harshly when you feel waves cursing over your body, burning in your stomach and making your legs shake. You still grab at his hair, tugging and holding onto it as you gaze up into his hazel eyes. 
“Show me… how much you love me.”
He wastes no time to reach for your hand, gently taking it off his neck, he presses your palm against your own chest and keeps his own over it, slipping his fingers through the gaps, he holds it tightly and slides it down your stomach, stopping just above your belly button. 
“Can you feel that, darling?” He breathes, getting cut off by his own moan when he presses both yours and his hand stronger against your stomach, feeling just how deep he is inside of you. 
You nod your head quickly, biting your bottom lip as the burning sensation in you grows even hotter.
“Y-Yes! I-I can feel you! You’re so… You’re so deep!” You babble, losing your composure completely, “f-feels so good, Steve, so good…” 
“Yeah? You like that huh?” He whimpers as he changes his pace, opting for rougher, slower and deeper thrusts now, “I’m gonna do this every morning, honey, gonna wake you up and remind you how good we fit together, how we were made for each other.” 
“P-Please do,” you whimper as you cling to the hand that keeps your body pressed against the mattress. 
Steve leans his forehead against yours, he nuzzles his nose with yours and looks into your eyes as he brings both you and himself to edge. 
“Gonna fill you up and claim you, over and over again,” he whispers against your lips, letting go of your hand so he can press his fingers against your aching clit. “Gonna show you just how much I love you.” 
Your body shakes beneath his but he keeps it in place, holding you down with the weight of his body and his strong arms, he leans down to kiss your face, every inch of it, he rubs your clit and fucks you roughly, hitting the angle that makes you see starts. 
A string of I love you’s fall from your lips as you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts, begging for him to release with you. 
“I’m gonna show you too, Steve,” you whisper breathlessly, pushing yourself up enough to kiss his pretty lips, “but first, I need you to cum inside of me, baby, I need you to fill me up with your cum… please.” 
Your begs and your pleas only make his dick throb harder, his balls tighten and his hips move deeper, harder, faster. 
He admires the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your eyebrows scrunch together even stronger than before, your jaw falling slack, your boobs bounce with each thrust of his hips and you squirm beneath him, whining in need. 
You feel every inch of him, the veins around his length, his tip brushing that one spot that turns your vision blurry from the pleasuring shock waves in you, his fingers that work on your clit. He kisses you, pecks your lips over and over again. 
“I can feel the way you’re clenching around me,” he whispers against you, unable to hold back the sounds that fall from his mouth as he comes closer and closer, “your tight little pussy is begging to be filled up with my cum, huh? You want me to breed you, don’t you, princess?” 
You don’t know whether it’s his words or the strong thrust he delivers that makes you come undone – your back arches, your eyes shut tightly as your fingers cling to his hair, pulling harshly, your walls flutter and clench around him stronger than ever before as you scream his name in pleasure. 
“O-Oh fuck,” Steve groans as his eyes roll back and his stomach contrasts when he feels you cumming around him. He can’t even hold back anymore, he grabs your hips and pushes up higher on his knees, tilting your pelvis up the slightest bit before he starts pounding into you, chasing his high but aiming for your second, as well. 
“Oh my god, Stevie!” You cry out, your arms falling by your sides as weakness takes over your body. You feel sensitive and overstimulated already, and yet, you can’t get enough of him, of the feeling of him inside of you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy with rough and deep strokes, your name falling from his lips so beautifully as he moans because of you.
You watch him, the way his chest heaves up and down, the way his forehead is coated with sweat already, hair hanging in front of his eyes as he pounds into you like he had gone feral, strong, veiny hands gripping your hips so harshly, sure to leave marks on your skin, his dark eyes flicker back and forth between your own and the part that connects you and him. 
“J-Just like that, you’re doing so good for me,” you manage to croak out with a shaky voice, ignoring the tears that spill down onto his pillows and just like before, you manage to push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lower lip as you feel the need to watch, watch the way he fucks into your sopping pussy, the sight of it only adding to the overwhelming pleasure in you. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, looking at you with the eyes of a man in love and in desperation. He traces his fingers down to your knee, unwrapping it from his waist, he nearly makes you squeal when he hooks it over his shoulder instead, pounding into you from a different angle now as his lips latch onto your ankle, kissing you there but never taking his eyes off yours. “I fucking adore you.” How his voice still sounds so steady and confident surprises him, he could bust right this second but the need to drag this out is so strong, even when his body is screaming for release. “I’m so fucking in love with you, you have no idea what I’d do for you, honey.” 
Your bottom lip trembles and your whimpers grow stronger when he presses his thumb back to your clit. He keeps this pace for a while, holding your leg firmly. 
Just the sight of you alone could make him come undone. 
He needs more, he needs to feel you again, so he gently places your leg back down, “keep your eyes open for me, come on, I know you can do it,” he whispers, unable to stay away from your lips any longer, he presses his chest back to yours and kisses you, “look at me when I fill you up with my cum.”
You throw your arms around him again, looking up desperately as you grow weaker and weaker. 
“That’s what you wanted, didn’t you, darling?” He murmurs, against your lips, whimpering himself when you squeeze around his cock, gripping him tightly. 
“Y-Yes! Please do it, cum for me, Steve, fill me up, give me your cum, daddy!” You whimper, needily, your body letting go once more. 
Steve’s eyes grow wide, pleasure shocking his body, begging to let go but he manages to keep his composure, wanting, needing more. Your words wake something in him, a side that has yet to be explored – he holds your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, he bottoms out almost all the way before he snaps back inside of you, roughly and harshly, making you squeak and hold onto him like you never have before. 
"Daddy, huh?" Steve breathes as his thrusts become merciless, “that’s right, baby, I’m your daddy.”
You are nothing but a babbling mess at this point, whimpering his name, whimpering those three words, calling him by the name that just turned him into a man who has gone absolutely feral. 
And you love it, you love every second of it. 
You are barely able to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, wanting to see this, to see him and how he takes control in a whole new way, fucking you disrespectfully yet looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His arms look so strong, veins appearing thick on his skin, the muscles in his stomach are tense, he is towering over you, he is so big, so much bigger than you.
You feel him so deeply that it makes you drool, your stomach burns in a satisfying way. 
And Steve, he can’t hold back the whimpers, the needy noises that he would have felt embarrassed about if he wasn’t so lost in love and pleasure. 
You can tell that he can’t hold back anymore, that he needs to cum, so you grab his face and kiss him roughly just as he loses control and spills inside of you. His merciless thrusts slowing down when his hips stutter, your walls continue to flutter around him, intensifying the pleasure in him even more. 
He kisses you deeply, swallowing each moan of yours as your tongues clash together, needily, desperately and you kiss each other until you no longer can, until your breaths are knocked out of you and your hearts are pounding harshly, lungs begging for air. 
You pull away just enough to breathe again but you keep kissing one another, pressing soft pecks to each other's lips as lazy smiles appear on your faces. You’re running your fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with your nails, giggling when he nuzzles his nose against yours this time. 
“Good morning, Steve.”
He huffs in amusement, smiling brightly at you, his eyes crinkle, his dimples show, “good morning indeed, darling.” 
You giggle again, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you pull him down against you to hug him, not caring about the mess you both made, you need a shower anyways. 
He puts his head on your shoulder, happily falling into your embrace, enjoying the feeling of your fingers running up and down his back now. He is still inside of you, twitching and throbbing but he doesn’t want to pull out, loving your warmth. 
Steve tilts his head and looks up at you, his heart skipping a beat when he finds you staring with a loving smile on your lips. 
You reach your hand up to his face, brushing away his hair so you can see his hazel eyes better. 
“You called me daddy,” he says, causing your hand to freeze and your cheeks to heat up. 
You hide your face behind your hands but he quickly wraps his hands around your wrists and keeps you from hiding, “uh uh,” he shakes his head at you, smirking at your blushing face, “don’t hide from me, baby.”
Shame flickers in your eyes, your cheeks are glowing and you can feel the embarrassment flushing through you. 
“I don’t know what’s gotten–”
“I fucking love it, honey,” he cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “almost made me bust right away when you said it.”
His eyes light up when you giggle loudly. 
“Always kinda had the fantasy of you calling me that, for a moment I thought this was all just a dream.”
You shake your head at him, licking your lips as you stare at your man. You place your hands on his neck and tug him even closer, giving him a short but deep kiss, “no, it’s all real… daddy.” 
Steve groans when he feels his cock throbbing in you, overstimulating him now, especially when you squeeze around him again. 
“Fuck… I gotta pull out or else I’ll cum again.” 
You giggle once more, driving his heart crazy with your pretty noises. 
“We made a mess already, I won’t mind another.”
He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning at you. 
“Oh yeah? You want me to keep you in bed all day, huh?” He murmurs and slowly brings his hand up to your cheek, cradling with his large hand. 
“Mhmm what if I do?” 
“Then I gotta give my girl what she wants huh?” 
Your whole heart flutters, your stomach does too, a warmth you only feel with him curses through your veins as giddiness and excitement settle into you. 
My girl. 
You have always been his girl. 
You nod your head, your eyes flickering between his own and his lips. 
“Yes,” you whisper before you smash your lips back against his. 
And you do stay in bed, the whole morning you stay there, touching and kissing one another, repeating your actions from the night before, growing hungry and desperate for each other, not caring about anything else in the world but this moment. 
Minutes and hours go by without you noticing just how much time has passed already, the room smells like sex and the crumpled, messy sheets are evidence of everything that you have done. 
Your body is littered with marks, just like his as your lips chase to leave hickeys on every spot you haven’t marked up just yet, putting great effort into it as though it will linger like a tattoo. No fear of anyone seeing them now, no nervousness of leaving them in appropriate places no more.
He has to carry you into the bathroom by the end of it, too shaky are your legs to walk yourself, he finds pleasure in lifting you up into his arms though just as he does in being the one to wash you, all while stealing kisses from you the whole time. He washes your hair and massages your scalp, wearing a smile on his face the whole time, he is careful not to get anything into your eyes. He washes your body, using your favorite scent, he takes his sweet time, loving to take care of you, loving the thought of this being only the beginning of it all, that this is not a one time special thing, it’s something that will follow you both into tomorrow, into forever. 
You take your turn too, washing his hair with excitement bubbling in you, you’re both a giggling mess the whole time, when he has to bend down to make it easier for you, low enough for his face to be right in your boobs, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he grabs them, squeezing tightly. 
“You’re such a dork!” You giggle and slap his shoulder playfully, the foam of his shampoo on your hands landing on the glass doors behind him. 
“Yeah but I’m your dork,” he grins and leans in to kiss your chest.
“Yes, you are,” you smile, proudly, unable to contain the happiness in you and it turns his smile bigger as well. 
You are both in bliss. 
When you are done, you don’t get out right away, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly against him, he holds a protective hand over your head, pressing it against his pecs while you wrap your arms around his waist. 
You both stand there under the stream of the water, enjoying the warmth of it and each other. His fingers run up and down your spine and he keeps murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of his love for you. 
He doesn’t stop there, he makes you sit on the edge of the bathtub while he puts lotion on your skin, not holding back from kissing every inch of your body, making you giggle yet again. He helps you into one of his shirts before he carefully combs through your hair, refusing to let you dry your own hair after you get up and reach for the hair-dryer. 
“My own personal hair stylist,” you grin at him through the mirror, admiring the way the towel hangs low on his hips, the way water still drops from his hair and down his chest. 
“Mhmm, I’ll take good care of your hair,” he murmurs, winking at you. He places his hand on your waist and leans closer, reaching for the small glass bottle that is inside the box with all his hair products. 
“What’s that?” You ask, watching as he squirts some of it on his fingers before he places it back into the box, he rubs his fingers together before he runs it through your hair. 
“It’s hair oil, honey,” he says nonchalantly, “it’s gonna make your hair all soft and shiny.” 
“Huh.” You nod as you look at everything that he owns for his hair, it’s surely way more than you own, no wonder his mane is always so perfect. 
“You don’t use any?” He furrows his brows. 
You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his fingers in your hair. 
“See, your hair needs me too.” 
You giggle and lean your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side to look at him. 
Steve grins, letting go of your hair, he slides his hand under your jaw and cups your cheek, he leans down and kisses you softly, you are still smiling and so is he. 
All of this still feels so surreal, just a day ago, he believed this would be impossible, that this is something he could never have, not after Robin told him that it was just sex for you, that you had no feelings, no wishes to deepen the bond between you — he has to talk to her but not today, today belongs to you and him. 
He glances at you through the mirror, catching you staring at him with a big smile on your lips. Before he can say or do anything, you turn around and cup his cheeks, rising to your tippy toes, you steal a kiss from him. 
“I adore you, Steve.”
He grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands find home on your waist. 
“Yeah? I adore you, Blondie.”
He watches the way you gaze into his eyes, the happiness and the love so evident in yours, the excitement you can’t seem to contain coming through – feelings you have kept locked up for so long finally being let out, a side of you that you have buried underneath all the layers you have shown for so long, finally shining through. You feel safe with him, safe enough to show him that side that you were afraid of letting others see. 
But here you are now, kissing him, cuddling him, being clingy with him – something he thought he could only dream of, not long ago. 
You hug him from behind and kiss his shoulder while he prepares your coffee, you make ‘breakfast’ for you both late in the afternoon and you spend a long time sitting at the round table in his kitchen, talking and eating your first meal of the day, holding hands and laughing with each other. 
Robin calls and Steve watches the way you tense up when he speaks her name into the receiver. He doesn’t know what happened between you both, what Robin had said to you, you didn’t talk about it yet, you didn’t want to and he respected that, this day is about you two and that’s what he tells his best friend, as well. 
“You’ll apologize to her later. For now, she is with me… just the two of us.” 
He is not angry at her, he knows she only wants the best for him but he doesn’t want to see her right now, he only wants to be with you. 
And he doesn’t want to talk about the bad things, about the things he believed before you showed up and stood beneath the pouring rain, ready to fight for him. 
You were the first. 
The first person to fight for him. 
To love him without expecting something in return. 
And now you are here and you are his – officially soon. 
The date he planned so spontaneously was one that he had dreamed of since the night at the fair, where he wished to kiss you in front of everyone, where he thought of taking you on the ferris wheel and admire the fireworks with you on the very top, where he wanted to win you a bear and see those beautiful eyes of yours light up because of him. 
It didn’t take him long to decide where he would take you tonight. 
Anything would be perfect, a date at the movies, at the restaurant, a picnic on the lookout or even just movie night in his bedroom, the latter seems the most relaxing – but he really wants to take you out, hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless, not a single care in the world about who could see. 
The excitement in him keeps growing, even when he begrudgingly lets you go so you can get ready at your house – he doesn’t let you go easily, showering you in kisses and cuddling you at his front door before you even manage to take a step outside and even when he does let you go, he doesn’t waste a single second before he runs upstairs and starts getting ready as well, doing his hair as quickly as he can, picking out an outfit that is sure to impress you. It takes him approximately thirty minutes before he is standing on your porch with flowers in his hand and a wide smile on his face. 
While he is fully ready, you are still clad in his shirt, makeup only halfway done and hair up in rollers. You giggle when you see him, “I said an hour!” You throw your hands up, though there is nothing but excitement in your voice as well and you reach for his wrist, pulling him into your home. 
Your eyes light up when you look at the flowers he got for you, the thought of him hurrying around his house, getting ready and making a quick stop to get you flowers makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest. 
“I’m sorry, honey, I couldn’t wait,” he grins and leans down to press his lips to yours, tasting the strawberry chapstick on your mouth. “Besides, I can watch my girl getting ready.” 
“You’re so cute,” you smile and reach for the flowers he picked, pink tulips. You raise them up to your nose, looking into his warm eyes as you breathe in the scent. “I love them, thank you, Stevie.”
He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer, kissing your forehead softly, “you’re welcome, Blondie.” 
You place your hand on his shoulder and tilt your head up, pecking his cheek before you move away from him and make your way into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase. 
Steve follows, his smile never falling, he hears the music coming from your room, he can see the happiness on your face and all because of him. 
You fill the vase with water and carefully place the flowers inside, removing the string that ties them together and for a moment, you stare at them. He got you flowers, Steve got you flowers after he asked you out on a date, after he confessed his feelings, his love for you. 
Who would’ve thought that jumping into the water that night, would bring you here. 
You take the flowers up into your room and place them on your bedside table, a smile appears on your face again when you feel him coming up from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. His breath hits your neck, his lips follow and he nuzzles his nose against your neck, “you look so fucking hot.”
You tilt your head to the side, careful not to hit him with the rollers in your hair, “with my makeup half done and those granny rollers?”
“You always look hot, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck again, he trails his lips down lower and lower over the marks he left this morning, “especially when you’re wearing my clothes.” 
“Steve,” you sigh, your eyelashes flutter, moans threatening to spill from your lips, “I-I gotta get ready or else we’ll never make it to the date.”
His chuckle vibrates against you, he squeezes your waist before he lets go of you and puts some distance between you when he sits down on your bed, smiling up at you. 
“Alright, baby.” 
He leans back, looking you up and down with awe in his eyes, watches the way you blush for him, the way you step forward and tap his nose before you walk away and sit down in front of your vanity, picking up one of the brushes and your eyeshadow palette, continuing your makeup. 
His heart skipped at your cute action. He is still filled with surprise to see you act so carefree around him, to get to know more and more of this side of you. 
For a while, he sits on your bed and watches you in contentment, following every step of your routine as you apply glitter to the inner corner of your eyes, the way you draw the eyeliner so effortlessly, the way you put lipstick on your lips as though it won’t smudge in a few minutes again. 
You look so beautiful, it drives his heart crazy. 
He can’t wait to take you into one of the photo booths and take his first pictures with you – making up for the day when he could not find the courage to ask for pictures with you when you were taking them so happily with Nancy. 
Those pictures are on the clipboard over your desk now, Jonathan had printed them for you and you wasted no time putting them up, he was here when you did it. He should have known then that there was a side to you that no one had seen yet. 
He walks over to your desk and takes a look at all your favorite memories, at the polaroids of your best friends, ones of Billy, some of Eddie, the teens during movie night in your living room, Jonathan and Argyle smoking pot on the swing in your backyard, there is even a picture of him with Robin, she was wearing your heart shaped sunglasses and he gave her bunny ears. He wishes that there would be some of you with him. 
“Whatcha looking at?” 
He turns to you, you have taken out the rollers in your hair while he was distracted by all the memories you have kept on your wall. For a moment he stares at you, his chest filling with warmth, his heart skipping several beats. Your makeup is all done, your hair is framing your face gorgeously, you reach for one of your many perfume bottles and spray some on your neck and on your wrists before you dab some of it behind your ears. 
His stomach bubbles with excitement knowing that watching you getting ready will become a part of his everyday life now.
Steve smiles, pointing to the picture of you and Nancy, “I wanted a picture with you that day.” 
You turn in your chair and raise your eyebrows at him, tilting your head in question, “hmm?”
“You took pictures with everyone… except for me... I was building up the courage to ask for a group picture to at least be in the same one as you.” 
Despite everything that has been said since the previous night, you still feel the shock in you, the surprise that takes hold of you as you digest his words. 
He wanted to take pictures with you, on a day when things between you were still so fresh. 
He was building up the courage to ask for a picture. 
Your chair scratches against the hardwood floor when you push it back and stand up, making your way over to him with a soft look in your eyes and a slight pout on your lips. 
He looks so cute standing there, admiring the photos on your wall and wishing there’d be ones of him. You can’t help but snake your arms around his waist and hug him tightly. 
“I always wanted some with you too,” you murmur and look up at him. 
He wraps his arms around you, cupping the side of your head, he is careful not to ruin your curls. 
“yeah? We’ll take some today.” 
You raise your brow at him, “oh?”
You don’t know where he is taking you, he wants it to be a surprise. 
“Yeah so get your sweet ass in some clothes so I can take you on the date,” he grins and moves his palm down to squeeze your butt. 
The sound of your giggle makes his heart swell in his chest, the touch of your hand on his, making it beat faster. You pull him towards your closet, opening the door, and you give him a smile, “pick a dress for me.” 
You don’t have to ask him twice. 
He squeezes your hand and steps forward, taking in the colors and the amount of clothes that are way too much for this closet. 
“Jesus, Blondie,” he whistles and reaches his hand out, searching for the perfect dress, “your closet is gonna bust soon, where do you even get that many clothes?” 
You cross your arms over your chest as you shrug, “Indianapolis has some nice stores, besides I have a lot of free time.” 
“I can tell.”
“Hey! We all got something, you got your hair products, I like buying clothes, don’t judge me!” 
Steve chuckles at you, “I’m not judging, don’t worry, honey. You can buy as many clothes as you want, I’m just saying you need a bigger closet.” 
“Are you gonna build me one?” You joke. 
“Yeah, someday,” he grins. 
He stops at a pink dress, one he hasn’t seen you wearing before, it’s a sundress, one he’d normally want to see you in if the dress on the very last hanger didn’t catch his eye. The blue color suddenly stands out to any other, capturing his attention completely. 
Something settles in the pit of his stomach, feelings of guilt and regret from the day when he watched you walk away from him after you had come in so nervously, after you had stuttered whilst trying to talk to him. He was so awful to you, he said such rude things to you while you stood before him in this beautiful dress – how did he not fall to his knees back then? How was his stubbornness stronger than any other emotion in him? How could he be so awful to you when all you wanted was to talk to him? 
Talk… Is that all you wanted though? If your feelings had been there for so long, was talking to him really the only goal for you that day? Or was there more? Was there a reason why you walked away with sadness in your eyes? 
His heart starts dropping the longer he thinks about it, the longer he thinks about the day he missed the greatest opportunity that he had. 
“W-Why don’t you wear this one?” He asks and takes it out slowly. 
The smile that stayed on your face this whole time falls a little and that is all the confirmation that he needs. 
There is a sadness in your eyes that flashes for a split second, your throat bobs when you swallow. You uncross your arms and reach forward, pinching the dress between your fingers. You haven’t taken it out once since then. 
Billy picked it out for you. 
You wore it with such excitement, one that was ruined. 
Steve watches the emotions that flicker in your eyes, the memories that go through your mind the longer you look at it. 
He feels the need to make it right, make it better. 
If he wasn’t such a fool, if he didn’t mess up that day, you’d be his for a while now. 
“Let me finally see what I have missed this past year for being a fucking idiot,” he says with a smile, yet remorse in his features. 
You huff and chuckle at him. You take it from his hands and look up at him, at the fond smile on his lips, the apologetic, soft eyes he looks at you with. 
How can you not grant him this wish? 
“Alright.” You smile and step away from him, “I’ll be right back.”
You get changed in the bathroom, taking a moment to yourself, you put the dress on, not looking at yourself just yet, you zip it and fix the bow on the cleavage, taking slow but steady breaths. 
A year back, you stood here like you do now but instead of happiness and excitement, you felt nervousness and anxiety burning in you, everything that could go wrong plagued your mind, your hands were shaking and your chest hurt but now… things are different, you feel nothing but giddy, your stomach doing somersaults, your heart keeps fluttering, you are happy. 
You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror, at the smile you can’t even contain knowing that this is it. 
You no longer have to fear anything, you no longer have to hide, you no longer have to wish for something thinking that it will never be. 
You got what you wanted, nothing stopped you and now he is yours. 
The look in his eyes is one of love and awe when you step outside, his cheeks heat up, a pinkish glow now adorning his pretty face. He steps forward in excitement and he reaches for your hand, “my beautiful girl,” he murmurs and presses his hand to your hip, “you are so gorgeous.” 
“Steve…” You giggle, rolling your eyes playfully when he makes you twirl for him before he pulls you against him. 
“I thought the same thing about you back then, Blondie, I was just an idiot.” 
You place your hands on his chest and glare at him, “stop calling yourself an idiot, I was kind of a bitch to you too.” 
He snorts and shakes his head, “don’t, I deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t and you’re not an idiot anymore so… let’s go!” 
Amused by your impatience, he leans down with a chuckle and pecks your lips before he grabs your hand, “yeah, let’s go, darling.” 
On the way to his car, Steve notices something, feelings he had never felt before a date, comfort, warmth, peace. And he had gone on so many dates before but something always felt off, he could never pinpoint what it was but it just never felt the way it was supposed to feel, not even with Nancy who until you, he thought was the one for him – nothing ever felt this real, this delightful, this happy with her. 
A simple car ride with you can bring out feelings in him that he had never experienced in his life before, not with anyone. 
Colors he never thought he would see are right before him now that you are his, the touch of your hand makes him feel protected and safe. You can drive his heart insane but you can also calm it down like nobody else, you can light a fire inside of him yet mend it at the same time with a simple kiss. 
He couldn’t even begin to describe the kind of love he feels for you, not even if he tried. 
But he can safely say that you are the one for him and this time he knows that it’s real – he would put a ring on your finger right this moment. 
Everything you do, every smile, every reaction of yours makes him smile in a way his cheeks hurt, he blushes, something he had never done until you, he feels a giddiness in him he hasn’t felt since he was a kid. 
When you arrive at your destination, he watches you closely, the way your eyes widen when you see the flashing lights, when you see the rides, the ferris wheel and smell the cotton candy. 
“An amusement park!?” You yell, eyes lighting up like the ones of a child on christmas day. 
You grab his hand and squeeze it tightly, smiling excitedly at him. 
“Do you like it?” Steve asks despite already knowing the answer to his own question. 
You respond with a kiss and he does not hesitate to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss you back, smiling against your lips, feeling his heart racing from his own excitement. He keeps you close, he does so all night, keeping your hands and fingers entwined, stealing kisses every few seconds or so, unable to stop himself. 
You spend the night getting sick on the rides, eating ice cream and corn dogs, giggling at each other like two lovesick teens. 
When he finally spots the photo booth, he excitedly pulls you towards it, brushing past the crowds of people and the laughing children with you, he slides open the small curtain and gets in first before he grabs your waist and pulls you in with him, dragging you down on his lap. 
“Someone’s eager to get those pictures,” you say with a giggle as you shut the curtain again before you push back against his chest and wrap your arm around him. His breath hits your skin, his large hand grabs at your hip. 
“I am eager, honey,” Steve murmurs against your shoulder, pressing his lips against it, “I wanna take pictures with my girl.” 
My girl seems to be his favorite name for you now, every stop you make at any ride or food truck, he calls you that when he orders for you both. 
‘A ticket for me and my girl.’
‘Two ice cream cones for me and my girl.’
‘One diet Pepsi for my girl, please.’ 
It made you giggle every time while he smiled proudly every time he gestured to you during each order. 
You flinch in surprise when the first flash goes off and you feel his lips on your cheek and his arms tighten around your waist. You didn’t even notice when he slid the dollar in and pressed start. 
“I wasn’t ready!” You giggle, staring at the countdown on the screen, you quickly pull back a little and turn to face Steve, he is already staring at you, smiling. You cup the side of his face and look into his eyes. 
“Where’s your pretty head at, hm?” He whispers and gazes into your eyes. 
The flash goes off again, capturing a perfect moment of the two of you. 
“Always with you.” 
“Me?” He murmurs and cups your face, pulling you down, he buries his face in your neck and kisses over your marks, “I’m right here, darling.” 
You tilt your head to the side and wrap your hand around his wrist, closing your eyes when the feeling of his lips puts you into a state of bliss. 
The flashing light following each perfect moment of yours. 
Steve tucks your hair behind your ear when you pull him back from your neck, pressing your palm back to his cheek, you lean your forehead against his and nuzzle your nose against his, making him grin. 
“I feel like my heart bursts every time you do this,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“What?” You whisper and nuzzle your face against his again with a smile, “this?” 
He squeezes your hip and chuckles, nodding against you, “yeah, it’s so fucking cute.” He presses his lips against yours and you both close your eyes as you start kissing, getting lost in it so quickly, forgetting the flashing lights and the small space you’re in, forgetting the people outside and drowning out the noises. 
Your lips taste like ice cream, his taste like the pepsi he stole from you, his cologne makes your insides tingle, the touch of his hands making you whine into the kiss. You press yourself tighter against him, letting your hands get lost in his hair as his arms envelop you fully, large hands settle on your back before one trails up to the nape of your neck. He buries his fingers in your hair, messing up the curls a little but you don’t mind. 
The butterflies go wild in your stomach, his warmth pulling you closer and closer, his tongue now meeting yours as the kiss deepens further. 
The flashing lights keep going off but neither of you care or even notice at this point. 
You are so lost in each other, everything fades to nothing around you both. 
Even as you grow breathless, neither of you make the move to pull away. 
The emotions in you nearly overwhelm you, everything you have ever wanted now belongs to you. 
Everything you have wished for when you went to Scoops Ahoy that day has finally happened. 
When the two of you walk out of the photobooth, breathless from the intense makeout session that ensued, and you both look at the pictures, you can’t help but feel like crying. His lips on your cheek, looking at each other, him kissing your neck, and several pictures of you two just kissing, oblivious to the pictures being taken. You tuck those pictures safely in your purse, knowing their next home is your wall.
You feel the need to confess, to tell him about what you wanted, what you came for that day at scoops and how strong your feelings really are because you don’t think that he truly understands just how loved he had always been. 
So when he takes you to the ferris wheel you decide the perfect time is now. 
Your cheeks feel hot and without even looking, you know that your hair is a mess on your head from his hands, just like his is too, it’s disheveled and his cheeks are red, you don’t want to fix his hair though, you love the way he looks right now. 
“Hey,” you whisper as you hold onto his hand tightly, your stomach would have felt queasy being on this ride if you weren’t here with him. He makes you feel safe, no matter what, no matter where you are. 
His eyes never strayed away from you, not even to look down at all the attractions beneath you. His right arm is wrapped around your waist, you’re tucked into his embrace, not even the wobbly carriage that keeps taking you up higher and higher into the air could make you feel unsafe. 
“Hi,” he whispers softly. 
“Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.” 
“You know… that day at Scoops,” you pause, feeling guilty for even bringing it up when you see the look in his eyes, the one full of guilt. Of course he remembers, you knew from the moment he found the dress in your closet and you know that it’s haunting him, you can see it. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, his smile slowly fading but not completely. 
You hold his hand tighter, “I don’t want you to feel bad, I just want you to know something.” You don’t even know if it is necessary to still tell him about your plan from that day, he knows of your feelings now, of how long you have kept them in but a part of you needs you to let this secret go, as well. 
“What is it?” He whispers and reaches his hand out to your face when the wind blows through your hair, getting stuck on your eyelash. He fixes it and tucks it behind your ear, he keeps his palm resting on your cheek. 
“I wanted to ask you out,” you confess with burning cheeks. 
His hazel eyes flash with surprise, his stomach flutters as warmth tingles up to his neck. 
You wanted to ask him out on a date? 
You wanted to ask him out even though he was a dick to you? 
“R-Really?” 
You nod. 
What would’ve happened if you did ask him out? He wonders. 
How would he have reacted? 
One thing he knows for sure is that he would be standing with red cheeks before you, he would have stuttered and stared at you stunned. 
“Billy was the one who encouraged me.”
If Steve’s eyes could widen any further, they surely would. 
“Billy?” He nearly yells. “Billy Hargrove!?”
You giggle at the confused and shocked look on his face. 
“Yeah, Billy Hargrove encouraged me to make a move on you from the day I first told him about my feelings for you. He helped me pick out that dress, he even drove me to the mall and gave me a pep talk,” you confess, smiling at the memory of your best friend. 
He huffs, shoulders slumping as he blinks a few times. And then his shocked frown transforms into a confused one, “w-wait, how did he not kill me after the way I treated you?” He asks in shame, not liking the memory of that day. 
“I never told him,” you shrug and sigh, “I didn’t want him to fight you, I knew he’d kick your ass.” 
Yeah, he would and he would have deserved it, he thinks. 
But you thought so otherwise, you protected him, even on his worst days, when he did nothing but hurt you, you protected him. 
In middle school, in high school and later. 
No matter how young you were or how mature you had gotten, you were never angry with him, never bitter, no matter how he treated you, all you held for him was love, even when he did not deserve it. 
“I told him I chickened out, that I never asked you out or even stepped foot inside Scoops.” 
Steve whispers your name, a pained expression taking over his pretty features. 
You shake your head at him, grasping his hand even tighter than before, “don’t feel bad, I don’t want you to feel guilty, those days are over, I just wanted to tell you that I have always been there and about Billy.”
Billy who hated him, Billy who used every opportunity to start a fight with him – he could have talked you out of it, he could have tried to turn you against him but he didn’t, he pushed you towards him, towards a guy he could never stand. 
Steve looks at you, at the girl who went through hell and back for him, quite literally, you loved him from afar, you have jumped into a different world just to save him, to protect him, you followed him into darkness, you fought by his side, you would have died for him, he knows it, he knows you would and after everything, after every cruel world, after every push-back, you still love him unconditionally. 
“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, cupping both your cheeks and looking into your eyes intensely, “I wish I could go back and change things but I can’t but… baby, I was a fool, I didn’t understand my feelings, there was always something, I already told you that last night but I need you to know that my heart always went crazy over you, I didn’t understand these feelings back then, they confused me just like they did when you got dragged into this mess with us… I didn’t want you to be a part of it not because I didn’t want you around but because I was fucking worried about you, when we parted ways and you went to the Creel house with the kids, I felt like I lost a piece of myself… and when I saw you at the hospital–” he pauses, his voice getting shaky as tears well up in his eyes. “I think that was the first time I ever prayed, Blondie. I-I needed you to be okay and I didn’t know what I’d do if I– if I lost you.” 
Your bottom lip wobbles, your own eyes well up with tears as you look into his sad ones. You grab his wrists, holding on tightly. 
Steve sat by your side every day, for hours, sometimes until the nurses kicked him out. He sat there and held your hand, he waited and waited, and prayed for you to wake up. He felt anger for Jason Carver, he felt grief over you. 
To see him so distraught over what happened to you, to think that he felt this way even back then makes your heart hurt. 
“You didn’t lose me, Steve, you never will,” you whisper and press your forehead against his, “you’re stuck with me now.” 
His lips curl into a small smile, he caresses your cheek, not letting the tear that slipped from your eye, roll down your cheek. 
“Sounds like heaven to me,” he whispers against your lips, leaning into your touch, “my heart was always yours, I was too stupid to realize.” 
“Yeah,” you whisper, giggling through your tears, like your heart isn’t bursting at his words, “you were a real Lego Head.” 
Steve’s eyes crinkle, his eyes glow with amusement and love, you both giggle and lean in closer and closer. 
“I’ll never be one again,” he whispers against your lips. 
“Good,” you murmur before you close your eyes and kiss him, smiling against his mouth when a sweet sigh escapes him. You feel the wind on your skin, you know how high up you are now but you don’t care and neither does he. 
He cradles your face in his large hands and kisses you in a way you could only dream of months back. 
And he feels the same, he has dreamed of a love like this, of one that would strip him off the dark colors that have enveloped him, that have taken hold of him when people have stomped on his heart. You broke through the wall around him, you took his hand and pulled him out of a pit that he never wanted to admit he was in, you saved him and you gave him something that he will hold so dearly, that he will protect with his life, you gave him your heart, your love. 
He feels such joy and love in his heart, he can’t even contain it. 
You trail your left hand down to his chest, pressing it against his beating heart – the heart that belongs to you. He grabs it and toys with your empty ring finger. 
“Asking you to marry me is too soon… so I gotta settle into asking you to be my girlfriend,” he whispers after pulling away from the kiss, his heart thumping in his chest, his hope filled eyes staring into your awestruck ones. 
“Not too soon for me but I’ll take the girlfriend title for a while,” you say so calmly, like your heart isn’t about to burst, like the excitement in you isn’t vibrating strongly. 
If Steve wasn’t sitting down, he is sure that his knees would buckle at your words. 
He is so weak for you and he is not sure if you truly realize it. 
But he will show you, again and again until you finally see it. 
He makes you squeal when he moves suddenly and wraps you in his arms, hugging you tightly before he starts peppering kisses to your face, “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you so much, you have no idea how much I do.” Kiss. “You make me the happiest man in the world.” Kiss. “You’re my everything, you’re my stars and my sunshine.” Kiss. “You’re my heart.” Kiss. “My girlfriend.” 
Your cheeks hurt from all the giggling, your brows are scrunched as he keeps kissing all over your face, nuzzling his nose against yours and keeping you close. 
You feel like you’re floating, like the sunshine grazes your skin despite it being night, your chest feels light and you just feel… happy. 
“My boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips, words you never thought would come from your mouth. 
Yeah, his knees would definitely buckle again. 
“Say that again, darling, please…” He begs, pleading with his eyes, he needs it. 
“My love,” you kiss him and smile, “my boyfriend.” 
He kisses you again and again, even when you make it back down on the Ferris Wheel and the guy who advised you to your carriage tells you to get out with his monotone voice and his bored expression, Steve pecks your lips happily, not a single care in the world about the people around him, about the guy who is staring waiting for you both to move. Steve wants everyone to know that you are his girlfriend. 
You are both a giggling mess when you finally walk away and throw yourselves back into the crowd, hands clinging to each other, happy smiles on your faces. 
Before you leave, he wins you a teddy bear and you surprise him by winning one back for him. 
And when you make it to his car by the end of the night, he presses you against it and steals your breath away yet again, he kisses you deeply and holds you tightly, no hunger behind it but love, passion and sweetness. 
Though on your drive back to Hawkins, you both get a little eager when hand holding and kissing at red lights is suddenly not enough anymore. He pulls the car over into a secluded area, where nothing but trees and bushes surround you. You hastily undo the seatbelt and giggle loudly when he pulls you into the backseat, giving you no time to react before he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him, murmuring just how bad he wants and needs you when his hands slip under your dress. 
You spend the night making love in the backseat of his car, kissing and touching one another in ways no one else ever could. 
Tonight nothing matters. 
Nothing but the two of you. 
You are his and he is yours. 
After all those years, after the negative thoughts, after realizing that maybe you would have to live with this unrequited love for the rest of your life, after thinking that there is no chance at all… After you two started being intimate out of anger, or out of lust, not knowing all the feelings that were behind all of it. All the feelings you held that he didn’t know about, and all the feelings he had and you could only hope were there.
‘Told you you could do it, Sweets.’ It’s what he would have said to you, whispered in your ear as he shook Steve’s hand with disgust, welcoming him as your partner. Your boyfriend. Your future.
Steve is yours. Steve Harrington is finally yours. 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs
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