#WAIT THAT’S THE PERFECT WAY I FEEL. I FEEL LIKE: <:]

[moonsgemini]

cherry wine - firefighter!rafe pt. 2

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summary: Rafe’s job gets in the way of your first date, but you’re not mad about it.

warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, fluff, mutual pining, flirting, sexy rafe, SMUT, fingering, fem rec oral, fem!reader, inaccurate descriptions of firefighter duties, alcohol, cursing

an: I have no idea how a fire fighters schedule works so I made it up bc it’s fiction. oh & do we like the long fics?? oh & it’s my birthday yay to 24

part one

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The night at the bar Rafe made sure you were sober to drive. He had you drink lots of water and even ordered you a plate of fries. His mind wandering off when you would lick the salt off your fingers. He was gone for you from the start and he didn’t mind one bit.

After walking you to your car he asked for your number and promised to see you the next day. Leaving you with a kiss on the cheek and permanent butterflies. The whole drive home you belted out the lyrics to your favorite pop music, feeling like a high school girl with a crush.

Rafe drove him in silence with a grin on his face. When he got home and texted you that he had a great time and couldn’t wait to see you again that grin never vanished. It only widened when you replied reciprocating the same feelings.

The next day came and a couple hours before picking you up Rafe got called into the station. Instead of texting he called you wanting to make sure you knew he wasn’t flaking. You believed him of course. Yet you couldn’t help the natural feeling of disappointment that flowed through your bones.

That feeling was soothed when he texted you late that night that he had finally gotten back to the station. Along with that he sent a picture of the station dog Max on his lap. You couldn’t help the way your mouth watered at the sight of his veiny big hand that was resting in the golden retrievers fur. In return you sent back a picture of your steaming mug of tea and a horror movie playing on the tv in the back.

It sparked a conversation about movies which led to you and Rafe talking non stop the following week. Besides the times you were teaching and he was out training or helping people.

Rafe promised you a proper date that upcoming Friday. Making sure to let you know that he would do anything to make it work out this time. You reassured him it was okay if something came up again. That made his heart burst, it wasn’t often that someone was willing to work with his hectic schedule.

-

The outfit you had planned for the previous weekend still sat on your vanity chair waiting to be worn. And hopefully waiting to be taken off. You had finished your hair and makeup all done to perfection. As it neared closer to the time he was picking you up your anxiety spiked. He hadn’t called to reschedule so it was really happening.

Rafe had gotten worked up all week with the pictures you’d occasionally send of what you were doing. The one that really got him was when you had gotten out of the shower and sent him a picture of you in a fuzzy robe with wet hair and your skin glistening. Most likely due to a skincare routine you had mentioned to him.

Rafe thought you looked like a goddess, he wished he could have gotten down on his knees and untied that robe with his teeth before worshiping you. His kind had been in the gutter all week.

He was making sure this date was going to go perfect. He bought a bouquet of flowers from a street vendor and worn his best date outfit. As he rang the doorbell to your small cottage he started to get a bit nervous. He hadn’t put this much effort into a date since high school. Even then how much effort could a teenage boy put in. He didn’t actually remember the last time he went on a date.

Rafe’s runaway thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door. Standing in front of him in a short black skirt and black top. A jacket hanging over your arm and your glossy lips turning up into a smile. The boots you were accentuated your legs making them look even longer. Rafe wanted to lick every inch of you. Especially after the smell of your perfume hit him, he wanted to kiss your neck.

“Hi,” You said with a teasing tone.

He didn’t realize he hadn’t said anything, “You look beautiful.” He made it a point to look her up and down.

She laughed as heat creeped up her neck, “Thank you Rafe.”

He loved how you said his name, “These are for you.” He handed you the flowers.

“Come in while I put them in water,” You nodded towards the inside of the house, “They’re beautiful Rafe. You really do know how to treat me good.”

He closed the door behind him as you began filling a vase with water, “Oh this is nothing.”

“If there’s more than this I might start to like you a little too much,” You joked hoping the weight of those words don’t send him running. You didn’t mean to say something so forward so soon. Literally on the first date, but you decided to stick by your words. You didn’t want to hide that you liked him.

“Perfect, because I already like you a little too much.”

You froze with the kitchen towel in your hands as you dries them. As you looked at him his smile was sincere, no hint of teasing or lying. You finished drying your hands as you laughed softly. The crush you had on Rafe was growing by the minute.

“Ready?” You asked.

He nodded opening the front door for you. He even opened the passenger door of his truck for you. Of course you knew these were bare minimum things but you couldn’t help how giddy it made you feel. Especially when it was him doing it for you.

-

Everything couldn’t have been going more perfect. Rafe was almost grateful he had to postpone the date because in the week the two of you talked he learned a lot. With the knowledge of you he had he planned the perfect date.

He took you to a record shop that you hadn’t been to before. You had told him about your extensive collection you had started building in high school. He even remembered a few of the bands you liked when he came across them. Of course he insisted on buying you a couple which you repeatedly told him not to. Obviously he didn’t listen and bought you them.

Next door was the Italian restaurant Rafe had been raving about all week. Promising you it’d be the best pasta of your life.

But as you looked over the menu, a ghost of a grin hasn’t left your mouth all evening, his phone started ringing. Rafe took his phone out of his pocket beginning to apologize for not silencing it. He was going to ignore the call but the name across the screen had his brows furrowing in worry.

“Everything okay?”

He looked up briefly, “Uh yeah it’s my captain. I’m so sorry I need to answer this.” You nodded understanding as he gave you a regretful smile as he slid out the booth to take the call. You continued to look over the cocktail menu.

Rafe sighed as he sat down across from you again, “Everything okay?” You asked

He shook his head, “I hate to do this but I got called in. I wasn’t supposed to work today but there’s a hug pile up downtown where there’s a big concert and they need all the help they can get.”

You tried not to show the disappointment you felt because it was his job after all. Rafe could still see how your eyes lost a bit of their shine and your smile wasn’t as bright anymore. He really hated this. In his career so far he had never been called in so much. But now when he meets the hottest woman he’s ever seen work is taking over his life. He was not about to have you slip through his fingers.

“Oh yeah I understand. You can just drop m-“ You began saying before he interrupted.

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

He shook his head with a laugh, “Not to the wreck to the station. Wait for me there.”

He didn’t even wait for you to reply because for one he needed to leave now or Captain Matthews would chew his head off. And two if you decided you didn’t want to and wanted nothing to do with him anymore he’s take you home, but the sound of your laugh as he pulled you through the restaurant was enough of an answer. Your hands stayed locked together until you got back into his truck.

The station wasn’t too far from where you already were so the drive was short. Rafe rushed out to open your door and grab your hand once again. As you trailed behind him you saw a few of the guys from career day and some new faces as they all stood by an engine in the garage. A couple were checking equipment and a few others were already getting on the truck.

“Sorry to interrupt your date but we need your help here Cameron,” An older guy said as the two of you approached. You assumed this was his captain.

You smiled, “Duty calls right?”

He laughed, “It sure does.”

“I’ll be right out,” Rafe said leading you into the station. He walked you into a room that was like a big living room with couches and a tv. Max was laying on the couch and when he saw Rafe he immediately got up and walked over to the pair.

“This is Max. Say hi Maxie bug,” He pet the dogs head who then sniffed your leg. You bent down petting his fluffy head.

“Hi Maxie.”

“Make yourself at home and feel free to anything in the kitchen. I’ll be back hopefully in a couple hours. If you get bored and uber home I won’t be offended I promise,” Rafe said placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, “Got it. Be safe and good luck.”

He leaned in with a grin and kissed your cheek gingerly. Even that small touch had your head spinning. You and Max watched as he jogged back outside and only a couple minutes later you heard the truck leave.

-

It had been almost two hours now and Rafe was still out. You had watched a fe episodes of your favorite sitcom and played with Max a bit. You even explored the station finding the kitchen and a few of the rooms used for sleeping where you stole a blanket from to lay over yourself on the couch. The only issue you were having was that you were starving.

Since you two had to leave dinner you hadn’t eaten since lunch and that meesley turkey sandwich was not cutting it.

That’s when you wandered into the kitchen and that habit of wanting to take care of people kicked in. You looked through to see what the guys had almost expecting to find the bare minimum. You were so wrong. The fridge and pantry were filled with groceries. You thought these guys must really eat a lot.

You started brain storming and decided on making lasagna and garlic bread. You figured they’d all be hungry when they got back and you were also starving. As the garlic bread finished in the oven and the lasagna cooled down you heard the rumbling of the fire truck. Perfect timing. You hoped you didn’t overstep but he did say make yourself at home. You even baked some chocolate chip cookie dough they had in the fridge. Even also tossing a salad to have on the side.

As Rafe opened the door that led to the station the smell of garlic bread and fresh baked cookies hit him. He thought he must be hallucinating until he walked into the kitchen and saw you getting plates out from the cupboard. A few of the guys walked in behind Rafe.

“Hey we’re back,” Rafe said stepping towards you, “Did you make dinner?”

You nodded a bit of embarrassment creeping up your spine, “Yeah hope you guys don’t mind. I was hungry and I figured you were too so I made food for you all.”

Josh stepped forward looking at the pan of lasagna, “Rafe keep her please, this looks amazing.”

“Seriously thank you this looks so good,” Captiain Matthews said as he stepped in.

“No problem please help yourselves,” You motioned towards the counter of food.

Rafe couldn’t look away from you. The way you stood so comfortably in the station kitchen talking to his coworkers. He walked closer towards you as the guys served themselves.

“You are just too sweet huh?” He teased.

“Well we missed our italian dinner so I made it myself,” You shrugged with a grin.

“That just means next time I’m cooking for you,” He said. The thought of there being a next time brough butterflies to your stomach.

“I’ll hold you to it,” You nodded.

Rafe grabbed a plate and began to serve you food. Handing over the plate before serving himself. All the guys thanked you as Rafe led you to the living room area. He also grabbed a bottle from one of the tall cabinets along with two glasses.

“Now I know this isn’t what I promised you but next time will be better,” He promised as he opened the bottle of wine.

“There’s no complaints from me about this date,” You shrugged, “Since when are you allowed to have alcohol in here?”

He smirked, “Well miss I’m technically off the clock again and this is from the christmas party we had a few months ago. Cherry wine?”

Your eyes lit up, “It’s like you know me already, I love cherry wine.”

-

After your stomachs were full of good food and a bit of wine that made your head feel a bit floaty you both settled on the couch. This was the best date you’d ever been on. Rafe was sweet and flirty never hiding his desire for you. Not even in a sexual way but in a way where he constantly asked questions about everything wanting to know more about you. He talked about his life as well which only made you like him more. Hearing about his troubled privileged childhood that led him to where he is now. It was admirable to hear him talk about it with no shame since it made him who he is.

As it got later Rafe drove you home. You were disappointed the night was ending but it was nearing one in the morning and you still had lesson plans to create.

He walked you up to your door with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“I had a really great time with you tonight. I’m sorry again for the interruption.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it Rafe. I still had a great time.”

“The guys are going to want you around all the time now,” He laughed.

“Oops,” You shrugged with a smirk.

He stepped closer, “Be careful now I might get jealous.”

“Maybe I’ll keep going then,” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “I know it’s late but uh do you want to come in?”

Rafe didn’t hesitate, “Yeah sure.”

You unlocked your door leading him in, “I can make you a cup of tea if you’d like or something else.” You asked as you set your things down on the entryway table.

“hmmm something else?” He asks as he steps closer to you.

You look through your cupboards, “I have tea, coffee, some random-“ your words caught in your throat as you turned around to look at him only to find Rafe behind you.

“That all sounds good but I think I want something sweet,” He said as he inched closer. Your hands rested behind you against the counter. Eyes wide with anticipation and curiosity as to what his next move would be.

“Like sweat tea?” You asked knowing exactly what he means but not wanting to jump to conclusions.

His smirk turned into a lopsided grin. He rubbed his hand over his mustache and shook his head stepping closer, “No that cherry wine was pretty sweet right?”

You nodded in agreement not taking your eyes off him.

“I think I want a bit more of that,” He was now practically caging you in against the counter. You felt like you were suffocating in him in the best way possible.

“Oh I don-“ He interrupted you by leaning forward and brushing his nose against yours. It shut you up immediately and then he broke the rest of the distance and pressed his lips to yours. You reciprocated moved your hands from the counter to pull at the blonde hair at the back of his head. His hands went to your hips pulling you closer to him then sliding up to your waist.

His thumbs going under your shirt the skin on skin contact made you shiver in the best way. Your mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened.

Rafe could taste the sweetness but he wasn’t sure if it was the cherry wine or just you. He knew he was addicted to you now. He loved the way your hands felt in his hair and on his biceps and shoulders. He slotted his leg in between yours making you feel even closer to him. The small noises you were making made him sigh into the kiss.

He pulled away before kissing you a few more times and murmuring, “So sweet.”

You whined and tugged at his shirt to pull him back in. He smirked and gave you what you wanted. He’d give you anything you wanted.

This time you pulled away feeling a bit bold and the feeling of his thigh pressing against the place where you needed him the most helped you say, “You wanna see my room?”

He laughed softly kissing your nose, “You inviting me to your room?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Nooo I’m asking if you want to see my room. There’s a difference.”

“I’d love to see your room.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved him. Grabbing his hand and leading him down the hallway to your room. You turned on the lamp on your nightstand which illuminated the room with a soft glow. Rafe had decidedly that he loved seeing you in that light. You looked like a real like angel.

“So this is it,” You said motioning to your surroundings.

He threw his head back with a hearty laugh, “Oh I really like you sweetheart. Come here,” He motioned with his fingers for you to come closer. A motion that had your mind in the gutter.

“Why do you say that?” You question as you walk forward to where he stood at the end of your bed.

“Because you’re all cute and sweet like you didn’t almost make me come just by making out.”

“Rafe!” You said with a surprised laugh.

He shrugged, “What? It’s the truth.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck still feeling bold. There was something about how unabashedly he admitted his feelings towards you that had you feeling confident. It felt good to be wanted. It felt good to be wanted by Rafe.

“You’re ridiculous,” You said as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His eyes moving down to your still swollen lips.

“Mhmm,” He hummed and nodded. He leaned in just like he did earlier in the kitchen. Kissing the air out of your lungs. His hands moved all over you gripping and holding anything he could.

His hand slipped down your back and over your butt, giving a squeeze as he past it, down to the end of your skirt, His fingers trailed up the back of your thigh and up your skirt. Hands gripping your ass under your skirt. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips which allowed him more access into your mouth.

There was a small part of your brain that hadn’t quite turned off yet. Rafe’s lips began to trail down to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses that had you arching into him. The feeling of his mustache against your smooth skin had you shivering.That’s when that part of your brain decided to speak up.

“Oh Rafe,” You said breathily eyes fluttering shut, “are you sure, it’s late and don’t you have work?” Rafe groaned as he kissed the spot behind your ear. He couldn’t help but get more turned on at the sound of her caring about him, but work and sleep were far from his mind. Right now he just wanted to bury his head between your thighs and have you moaning and withering underneath him.

“Baby I could care less about that right now,” He walked you back until you were sat on the bed. The bed wasn’t very tall so when he stood in between your legs you had to look up at him. The way he towered over you had your flimsy underwear feeling soaked. You had never been so turned on by a man.

Rafe reached forward to cup your jaw. Thumb stroking your cheek gently. Now that part of your brain was completely silent. All you could think about was him.

“You’re so beautiful,” He mumbled almost to himself.

A soft smile appeared on your face and he practically groaned again. Your doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent smile had his cock hardening even more if that’s possible. He bit his lip and watched as your eyes moved to his mouth. He knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you and that made this all the more exciting.

He slowly trailed his thumb to his mouth, pulling at her bottom lip teasingly. Almost like a habit your mouth opened slightly. He took this as a sign to gently push it into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it sucking and licking.

“Fuck,” He muttered as he felt your warm tongue. Where had you been all his life. He was never going to let you go. He pulled it out and leaned down kissing you again.

“You’re so hot,” He mumbled as he got on his knees in front of you. He removed your boots that you were still wearing and kissed up both legs. The intimacy of it all had your chest rising rapidly. The anticipation of just how good you know this man is going to treat you was enough to make your toes curl.

“I’ve been thinking about these thighs since I first picked you up,” He said as he kissed your inner thighs. He had placed your legs over his shoulders, hands gripping the outside of them. You sighed as your body ignited in pleasure.

You let out a small yelp as he pulled your center closer to his face causing you to fall back, “And fuuuck I’ve been thinking about pushing this little skirt up all night.” He hummed in appreciation as he pushed the black material up. Your feet now resting on the end of the bed. Your barely clothed pussy on display. Leaning back on your elbows you watched with hazy eyes as Rafe admired you.

He looked up at you through hooded eyes and a smirk, “Can I please taste you?” He knew you wouldn’t say no but he wanted to be a gentleman anyways.

“Please,” You whispered slightly bucking your hips up.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lace covered clit. The black lacy panties you had on barely doing anything to cover your slick cunt. He took a mental picture for the next time he was in the shower.

You moaned softly as he continued to kiss over panties, eventually pulling them to the side. He murmured curse words as he lifted his thumb to run through your folds. Gently slipping the tip of it inside you to gather your wetness. He trailed it up to your clot beginning to rub soft circles. The motion had your head falling back with a sigh.

Rafe turned his head and peppered kisses on your inner thigh. He pressed down a little harder as he watched you get wetter. After a few strokes he tentatively dipped his head down and licked your clit.

That was enough for him to know this is what he wanted to taste forever. He roughly pulled off the lacey matterial throwing it somewhere in the room.

He groaned as he fully dived in. Licking, sucking, and kissing just where you needed him to. He listened to your moans and soft whines to see what you liked the most. He was so painfully hard but he didn’t even care. Rafe just wanted you to come.

“Oh god Rafe,” You moaned as his tongue dipped into you. Your hands gripped his hair tugging when something felt extra good.

He moaned and the sound sent even more pleasure through you, “You taste so fucking good.”

“Rafe I’m close,” You panted, “you’re so good don’t stop please.”

He shook his head with his mouth still on you, “Never baby, you’re gonna have to pry me away from this pussy.”

The dirty words sending you even closer to the edge. You had never been talked to like this and you loved it. You liked how he ravaged you and actually paid attention to what you liked.

You felt his finger nudge your entrance before he slipped it in. Your walls tightening around his thick finger. You arched you back as he reached one hand up to press flat against your stomach to lay you down more. Then he added a second finger and you couldn’t help the cry that escaped your lips. It felt so good the way he moved them in and out. Fingers curled up hitting that spot you so desperately needed.

The lewd sounds of his fingers fucking you and his mouth on your clit filled the room. Along with your loud moans and his occasional groans. The roughness of his mustache felt so good on the sensitive bud.

“Rafey I’m-I’m gonna,”

“Mhmmm let go for me pretty girl,” He encouraged as his fingers moved faster and mouthed hungrily at your clit.

You became a shaking moaning mess as he continues his ministrations. Your orgasm taking over your body. His hand gripped your thigh roughly as he kept going until your high was over. Once your back was flar on the mattress he slowly pulled out and pressed one last kiss on your puffy clit.

He made his way up your body kissing your stomach over your shirt and then you exposed cleavage. He kissed you fully and you could feel his mustache damp with your arousal. You could also taste yourself on his tongue which had you moaning again. Rafe lifted you to be farther up the bed so he can comfortably lay on top.

“You taste so fucking good I already wanna do it again,” He said smirking as he pulled away.

You smiled in a daze, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” As you reached your hand down to the front of his pants. Your hand cupped him through the material and he groaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Fuck I really really want to do more but I actually do have work in a couple hours,” He groaned. He wishes he could just call off and spend the whole night rolling around in bed with you.

You looked at him with slight disappointment but understanding, “You sure?”

He leaned down and bit your neck playfully, “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll be easily convinced.”

You giggled, “I understand Rafe.”

“I’m seeing you again though. I never lied about that. Especially after you let me have a taste of you,” He groaned dramatically, “So fucking delicious I’m addicted.”

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[thecameronchronicles]

Heat of The Moment

TW: unhinged Rafe. Dominant sex. Dirty talk. Language. Oral sex. Hair pulling. Cum swallowing.

REQUESTED:

@gianadrichardson-blog

So the idea I have in my mind is that y/n and Rafe are dating and Rafe KNOWS that every guy wants y/n from tourons, college guys and even his best friends want her. So while y/n was out of town with her parents, Topper accidentally revealed that he had feelings for y/n and tried to date her while her and Rafe was in the talking stage. So Rafe calls y/n and sees where she at. When Rafe gets y/n location he shows up and let out his frustration he had and record them having sex with y/n then send to topper with the message “keep away from my girl”

Maybe y/n older brother have y/n phone and decided to play a prank on rafe acting like a guy had y/n phone

Heat of the Moment

"What the fuck, Top?!" Rafe accuses, holding Topper's phone high enough out of reach. But your pictures remain on the screen. More specifically, pictures the friend of your boyfriend shouldn't have.

"I- just stop it, man-"

"My girlfriend's tits are on your screen! What am I supposed to think?"

"She's in a bikini but it it doesn't matter okay? Just-just let me have it back." But Rafe smashes it before Topper can even brush his fingers against it. His finger is pointed in his former friend's face before he can right Rafe's actions that he believes wholeheartedly are justified.

"Rafe. When you and her were just talking, I...I thought I had a shot. I get that now, okay? I just, sometimes I wonder what if-"

"If I even see you looking at her after this, you won't be able to ever look again."

Rafe was already fuming. He was jealous and curious, both existing to a dangerous degree that meant his knuckles were bloodied more than healed and his voice hoarse from having defended you.

There wasn't a soul within a dramatic radius within the Outer Banks that didn't see your beauty. Whether it was the stunning way your eyes could focus and become instantly lustful with one look at your boyfriend or the way your voice warmed even the coldest of hearts, Rafe Cameron knew exactly what he had.

Perfection.

He just didn't expect to have to have to defend you to someone so close to him- someone who has apparently had feelings for you since before you were officially anything with Rafe. It makes his hands wrap tightly around the steering wheel and his foot practically punch a hole into the floor of his truck as he races across the Carolina road.

He never thought he left it to question. You were his. He was yours. It was as official as it could be without a ring or contract of marriage and yet he knew he needed to make it unquestionably true to the one person it mattered to.

So without a call or text in warning, he is pounding at your front door.

"Rafe? Are you okay baby, you-" He is over your threshold, face between your hands, your body pulled into his as he kisses you between words.

"You know I love you, yeah?" You nod with your hands coming up around his wrists. If you didn't trust him so gravely then you'd worry for the strength behind his hands as he brought you against him.

"You know I'd do anything for you?" He kisses with a grunt, more animal than the man you talked to earlier this morning.

"And that you say our word and it stops, no questions asked? That you know I put you first?" His forehead rests against yours as he waits for your agreement. It takes less than the time of a blink before he gets it.

"Good, remember that because I'm about to fuck you like I hate you." He lifts you around him and up your steps, suddenly too far away from your room.

You were the complete opposite of touch starved and yet you felt as if you had been drowning without his touch, the first moment of contact being an exhale for relief. Only in the juxtaposition that was being his girlfriend it also made you lightheaded.

"Rafe-" His hand comes up over your mouth as he only manages to get to the steps and turns you to cover them. Your knees dig into the uncomfortable wood and yet all you can focus on is the heat of the moment.

"Need to use that word, baby?"

You shake your head as he guides your hands around the open spaces between the bars making up your bannister.

"Then hold on." His belt sounds first and then the rough fabric of his pants being shoved.

"Jesus Christ, baby, I don't even need to spit on my cock, so I?" He leans over you, kicking your legs just wide enough to leave some comfort in the angle. "Always so wet for me isn't that right?"

"Always!" You moan into his hand as he grins against your shoulder before reaching into his pocket.

You hear the wrapper of the confom being torn and make the mistake to turn and see him do it with his teeth. Something about the savagery of it and the heat behind his eyes, still possessing your care above all else, and it sends you drenching the valley awaiting him.

"Safe and-" He moans, a deep honey tone, that makes your toes curl knowing you wrap around him snuggly enough to cause such a reaction.

"Tight, baby! Fuck!" He hits the stairs beside your cheek and yet it does nothing to limit anything. If anything, it spurs you both on as his other hand releases your mouth and you're able to kiss the skin of his fist as if to soften his rigidity.

"How are you so sweet AND sexy-hmm? Always know just what I need don't you baby?" Your body wills itself to endure all that is Rafe Cameron. Every tension soiling his happiness now pumping through every snap of his hips until all that remains is the frustration you know he veils from you. Still, you trust that every shove of him into you is only a method of showing you he cares.

However, it has never been quite this possessive before. Quite this needy. Quite this deep or hard.

And you fucking love it.

His hands can't move fast enough and yet they are graceful and not amateur. He rolls your nipples as he kisses your neck, thrusting without break, and whispering every dirty thought you have constructed in your time apart.

And then he becomes completely and utterly unhinged. Taking you in his lap, he pulls you facing away from him, still seated to the root. He bounces you, one hand around your neck, as the other rubs your clit. It can't be comfortable for him with the wood beneath you and still he is too driven by the cries you're making in the sound of his name to care about anything but this next thrust-or the dozens that follow.

"Nobody knows just how dirty you get for me, isn't that right baby? How deep you take my dick in this perfect little pussy? Yeah?" He slaps your clit with just enough pressure to make you jolt until he lifts his hips and makes you forget of the sting it leaves behind.

"How loud you get? It's a miracle nobody has called the cops yet. You sound like you're in pain, shit-" He turns you to him with the grip around your neck moving to your jaw and turning you to him.

"You good baby?"

"Harder-"

"That's my fucking girl?" You're lifted with a gasp following you as he takes you into your room. You are only allowed the reprieve of wood beneath your soles for a second before he's rutting you into the bed. Hand pushing your face into the sheets to somewhat muffle your screaming, all you hear is the repetitive "yeah"s in the mix of your name as he wallows in you.

"Do I have to worry about anyone else ever knowing about how good you feel?" You are torn away from your blissful daze at the question.

"What?" You turn and face him, seeing the phone pointed towards you. The heat from your skin accelerated until it is now the marrow in your bones and you can't cool it, not that you want to.

"Who fucks you deep enough to make you soak his cock like this?"

"Rafe!" You manage as he pulls your hair and makes your back arch for him.

"Who makes you dizzy and shit when he knows just where to hit?"

He pulls you to him, against his chest until you can look up at him.

"Who loves you enough to prove to everyone on this goddamn island you're his?! Huh?"

"RAFE! GOD! YOU, RAFE?" You sob, the pleasure almost painful as he grips your hip with one hand and keeps the phone recording in the other. The video is shaky and then disposed of as his cum begins to shoot from his heavy balls and up his shaft.

"On your knees, baby-" He takes the phone back, pointing it to your face. As always, he kisses you sweetly and runs a thumb over your lips, before you take him behind your smirk.

"Ohhh baby-" You accept him slowly before opening your throat to him. Eyes locked and cheeks prepped to be hollow, you wait as he cocks his head before powering through. He thrusts.

Twice.

Once.

And then becomes a blur.

Only grunts and 'fucks' leave between moans.

"Shit baby, you're gonna make me come- you want it?" He asks, managing to open his eyes long enough to see you nod. Digging your nails into his thighs, you drive him to pulse into your throat, over your tongue, and along with your swallow.

"Open-" he points the camera to show just the good girl you are.

"I fucking love you, baby, and now nobody will question who you belong to again."

"I don't think they do, Rafe..." You laugh it off as he helps you to your feet and into his arms within your bed.

As you fall asleep, you hear him tapping away on his phone before finally focusing completely on you. You rest well within his arms, satisfied in the countless orgasms you had as he reached his own, sweet dreams awaiting you that pale in comparison to what it means to be loved by Rafe.

Across town, Topper's phone buzzes. A video file from Rafe. The new phone, bought not even ten minutes after his last one was smashed sits in wait for the message.

MP4 file.

It is opened. The sound of slurping around the impressive shaft, angry and near completion is spliced with the sight of you spread for him on the stairs as well as the hip of the bed. Your cries are only of pleasure and they echo as the video plays.

"Stay away from my girl." Comes a warning meant for Topper.

Only it isn't Topper's eyes that come to the scene.

And it isn't Topper's life that gets the threat.

It is your brother's and he has just been waiting for an excuse to let out his own rage out against Rafe.

MASTERLIST

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - Devotion

Summary - Cregan's obsession with his wife is obvious, constantly showering her with affection and praise, making sure she always feels his unwavering devotion. Even amidst the grandeur of her brother's wedding, he struggles to restrain himself, after all, she is his, forever and always.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Strong reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2302

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek as his face hovered inches from mine. I smiled, a faint blush spreading across my cheeks at his intimate compliment. 

His arms wrapped around me from behind, the touch both reassuring and affectionate.

I was dressed in a delicate grey gown, chosen for its simplicity and ease of travel. It was perfect for our journey to Dragonstone, where we were to attend the wedding of my brother Jace and his betrothed, Baela. 

Despite its understated elegance, the dress shimmered subtly, catching the light as I moved.

"I've been told," I whispered, leaning back to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Cregan was never shy with his affections, always finding ways to remind me daily of how much he cherished me. His compliments were a constant comfort, his words a balm to my heart.

"Now, come," I said, slipping my hand into his. "We must hurry. I do not wish to delay our travels any longer." The excitement in my voice was palpable, a mixture of anticipation and eagerness to reunite with my family.

The journey, which usually took around a month had been shortened to just under three weeks, thanks to my fervent eagerness to reach Dragonstone. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the rugged coastline, Dragonstone emerged from the mist like a majestic sentinel. The castle's towering spires and weathered stone walls loomed against the fading light, blurred into a series of excited memories as we approached.

As we finally arrived, the sight of my mother waiting for us was like a beacon. Her face lit up with the brightest smile, a warmth that instantly melted away any lingering fatigue from our travels.

"Your Grace," I greeted, my own smile matching hers.

"Come here," she whispered, her arms opening wide. 

She enfolded me in a long, tender hug, holding me as if she could keep me forever. When she finally drew back, her hands gently cupped my face, her touch a soothing balm.

"I have missed you dearly," she said, her voice a soft murmur that wrapped around my heart like a comforting embrace.

Her gaze softened as she placed a gentle hand on my stomach, a radiant smile lighting up her face. 

"You're going to be an incredible mother," she murmured, her words brimming with affection. I smiled widely in response, the news still fresh in my mind. The maester in Winterfell had said I was barely a moon along, now, after our journey, it was almost two moons.

Jace was next. As I moved towards him, he pulled me into a hug so tight that I could hardly breathe.

"I trust you would like your sister and niece or nephew alive?" I joked, my voice muffled against his shoulder. 

He chuckled, loosening his grip with a sheepish grin as his eyes wandered to my still-hidden belly, where the babe was growing though not yet visible.

Turning to Baela, I found her beaming at me with a warmth that matched her smile. "The beautiful bride," I murmured, drawing her into a hug as well. 

"Where are the little ones?" I asked, glancing around for my younger brothers, eager to see them.

"Inside, eagerly waiting to greet their older sister," Rhaenyra replied, linking her arm with mine. Her voice was filled with the same warmth that defined our family's gatherings.

I looked back at Cregan, who stood nearby, his face alight with the joy of the reunion. The sparkle in his eyes reflected the enchantment he felt witnessing these heartfelt moments. 

I beckoned him towards me with a smile, and he moved to my side, walking in step with me as we proceeded together.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

I thanked the handmaidens as they finished dressing me, their hands moving with practised grace as they adjusted the final details of my attire. The red and black beaded gown I wore was nothing short of ethereal. 

The delicate beadwork shimmered in the candlelight, and the sheer material, coupled with the plunging neckline, made me feel both beautiful and slightly hesitant. 

The gown was daring, exposing more skin than I was accustomed to, and the subtle curve of my barely visible bump was hidden beneath the fabric.

"Gods be good," a deep voice mumbled from behind me. I turned to find my husband standing in the doorway, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide as they roved over me.

"Is it okay?" I asked, my voice tinged with uncertainty. His silence stretched on, and I shifted nervously, my fingers playing with a strand of my hair before settling on my stomach.

"I know, I think it looks rather scandalous. Perhaps I should change," I rushed out, my insecurities bubbling to the surface. 

Before I could move, he closed the distance between us in quick strides, taking my hands in his.

"You, my sweet wife, are a vision," he began, his voice filled with awe. "The epitome of grace and beauty." His hands moved gently up and down my arms, his touch soothing my nerves. His fingers then traced the curve of my stomach with a tender reverence.

"I can already tell that our little one will be as beautiful as their mother," he added, his eyes soft with affection. 

I visibly relaxed under his tender attention.

"A true dragon, in dragon colours," he continued, his fingers brushing lightly down the exposed skin of my chest. The heat of his touch sent a shiver through me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

I grabbed his hand, interlacing my fingers with his. "We should really be off. I do not wish to miss a moment of the celebration," I said, my voice soft but firm. 

He exhaled deeply, stepping back as if he had to physically restrain himself from drawing me closer.

"Of course," he murmured, a mix of longing and admiration in his eyes. 

He offered his arm, and I took it, the touch of his hand a comforting anchor as we made our way towards the grand hall where the celebration awaited.

The wedding was grand, a magnificent celebration to commemorate the union of Jace and Baela. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh flowers and the rich aroma of roasted meats. Laughter and music swirled around us, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with the energy of celebration.

The festivities stretched late into the night, with joy, melodies, and merriment filling every corner. 

Amidst the revelry, I noticed Cregan growing increasingly fidgety, his usual composed demeanour slipping.

As the musicians struck up a lively tune, we took to the dance floor. His hands gripped my waist firmly, and I wrapped mine around his neck, feeling the tension radiating from his body.

"Are you alright?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to catch his gaze. He took a deep breath, nodding, though his eyes betrayed his unease.

I placed a hand on his chest, furrowing my brows in concern. "Please tell me if something is bothering you," I urged softly, wanting to ease his distress.

He leaned closer, his voice low and intimate, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"I do not think I can restrain myself any longer," he confessed, his hands travelling up and down my sides with a possessive urgency.

"I need you," he murmured, his tone tinged with a desperate whine. "Please."

His words and the intensity of his touch sent a wave of heat pooling between my legs. I bit my lip, struggling to maintain my composure as my own desire mirrored his.

"Lead the way," I whispered, giving in to the need that coursed through me. A victorious glint sparked in his eyes as he stepped back, taking my hand and rushing us toward my chambers.

Once inside, the door barely closed behind us before Cregan's lips were on mine, his kiss urgent and demanding. His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer as if he couldn't bear even a moment's distance between us.

My fingers tangled in his hair, matching his fervour as our bodies pressed together. The weight of the evening's formality melted away, leaving only the raw, unrestrained need we felt for each other. He backed me toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine, and we fell onto the soft covers in a tangle of limbs and desire.

"I've wanted you all night," he breathed against my neck, his voice a ragged whisper. "Seeing you in that gown, so beautiful, so perfect... I couldn't think of anything else."

"Now I want it off," he growled, tugging at the material. I laughed, gently pushing him back as I carefully slipped out of the dress, placing it aside with deliberate care.

"Have me then," I teased, my voice low and inviting, leaving myself naked and exposed before him.

"I will," he promised, his eyes burning with an intense desire. He quickly discarded his own clothes, his movements hurried and eager, not wanting to waste another moment.

I scooted back on the bed, watching as he knelt before me, his gaze locked onto mine with a fervour that made my heart race. His hands slid up my legs, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within me.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured, his voice filled with awe as his fingers traced the curves of my body. "Every inch of you."

His words sent a flush of heat through me, and I arched into his touch, craving more. He leaned in, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His hands continued their exploration, each touch leaving a trail of burning desire in its wake.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our bodies pressed together.

"Cregan," I moaned softly as his lips travelled down my neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. 

"I need you," he whispered against my skin, his voice thick with desire. "I need all of you."

"Take me," I replied, my voice barely more than a breathy plea. "I'm yours."

My words were all the confirmation he needed. He adjusted himself, positioning his body above mine, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. 

Slowly, deliberately, he entered me, his movements controlled and purposeful. A soft groan escaped my lips as he filled me, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

He started with a slow, measured rhythm, each thrust deliberate and deep. His eyes never left mine, the connection between us palpable and electric. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I arched my back, meeting each of his movements with my own. 

The pleasure built gradually, a slow burn that intensified with each passing moment.

As the heat between us grew, his pace began to quicken. His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate as if he couldn't get enough of me. The room was filled with the sounds of our lovemaking, soft moans, breathless gasps, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

"Cregan," I moaned, my voice barely a whisper, filled with raw need.

His hand moved from my legs to the sensitive spot between us, his fingers finding my clit with practised ease. "Cum for me, princess," he groaned, his voice a deep, gravelly command.

The sensation of him inside me, the feel of his body moving against mine, combined with the skilled movement of his hand, sent electric shocks of pleasure through my entire being. 

My eyes rolled back, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that built within me.

With a final, deliberate thrust, the cord in my stomach snapped. I cried out, the pleasure crashing over me like a tidal wave. My body convulsed, shuddering as the orgasm tore through me, his name a desperate plea on my lips. 

Cregan followed soon after, his own release leaving him breathless and trembling. 

As the waves of pleasure subsided, we lay together in the aftermath, our bodies still entwined, slick with sweat and the remnants of our passion. He held me close, his arms wrapped protectively around me as if he never wanted to let go.

"We should return," I said, attempting to pull myself away from Cregan's embrace. "Cregan, come on," I added, laughing as he finally relented.

He helped me get dressed, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary, savouring the feel of the gown's fabric against my skin. 

Once I was clothed, I smoothed down my hair, trying to make myself look presentable despite the flush in my cheeks and the sparkle in my eyes.

Hand in hand, we made our way back to the celebrations. The laughter and music seemed brighter, more vibrant, as if our shared moment had infused the celebration with a deeper sense of joy.

"There you are," Rhaenyra said, her eyes lighting up as she saw us approaching. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I nervously giggled, trying my hardest to keep our recent activities a secret.

"I needed a moment to myself," I lied, patting my stomach and hoping my mother wouldn't notice the lingering flush on my face or the slight dishevelment of my hair. I settled into my seat, Cregan sitting close beside me.

My eyes met Cregan's, and he gave me a knowing smile, his hand finding mine under the table.

"Are you enjoying yourselves?" she asked, her gaze flicking between me and Cregan.

"Very much," Cregan replied, his voice warm and genuine. "It's a beautiful celebration."

My mother nodded, satisfied with his response. "It is," she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked at me. "I'm glad you're here."

I leaned into Cregan, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me. His eyes met mine, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a fierce tenderness that made my heart swell. "I will always love you."

"I love you too," I replied, my voice equally soft and sincere. "Forever and always."

A/n - Editing this rn and there was originally no pregnancy and then I had a very sudden impulse to add it could not tell you why lmaoo

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[mwahsol]

Jewelry with initials

Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.

“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”

“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”

‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’

‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”

“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”

After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”

As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.

“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”

“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”

As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”

Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”

“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.

“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.

“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”

What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.

I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[silverdragonfly]

Homecoming | Aemond x Reader

part i here or can be read as a standalone

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: !MDNI! mature content (p in v, oral fem-receiving, daddy kink, praise, riding, unprotected sex, language). English isn't my first language.

word count: 4K

summary: 8 days Aemond spent on a business trip with his brother. 8 days that felt like an eternity. 8 days are finally over, and he’ll be home very soon.

a/n: i hope you enjoy the taste of this reunion! feedback, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated 💗

divider credit @cafekitsune

7:23 PM, Aemond 🤍: On my way home

7:24 PM, You: Waiting for u ❤️ 

Vhagar stretches out on the shoe rack, licking her paw and paying extra attention to her claws, making you glance at your own manicure. She knows he'll be home soon; it’s her regular waiting spot. Whenever you and Aemond come home together, she’s always lying on the shoe rack, keeping an eye on the front door. Afterwards, she jumps off and lazily saunters toward her food, as if your return doesn’t really matter to her.

26 minutes—that’s how long the ride from the airport usually takes. Another 26 minutes of waiting. You spent the entire day cleaning the apartment, and the evening was dedicated to cooking. Aemond said he wouldn’t mind ordering takeaway, but you needed to distract yourself from mindlessly checking the time as if house chores could make the time go faster. Surprisingly, it worked.

Your phone lights up with a notification.

7:28 PM

Aegon sends a message.

Furrowing your brows, you tap on the notification. There’s a photo of Aemond in his Black Sabbath t-shirt and Adidas pants, striding through the airport with his two suitcases. You burst into giggles at the message.

Aegon: I think he’s trying to kill me with THAT look. HELP

You're quick to type back. 

You: Must be a reason

You follow the three moving dots as Aegon types his response.

Aegon: Literally none

Aegon: Okay maybe one

Aegon: Or two

You: I might say a word on your behalf…

Aegon: Yohooo!

Aegon: u 2 have my blessing! 🙌

7:31 PM.

Looking out the window, the city sprawls out like it’s resting in your palm. Millions of other windows beam with lights, and the traffic creates a sparkling, moving line, all visible from the top floor of your apartment. You clearly remember being freaked out for the first time you got close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aemond had to come and hug you from behind; only then did you feel safe, with his broad chest pressed against your back and his veiny hands holding you securely by the waist. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck, and you could see the reflection of your sheepish smile in the glass.

Straightening your oversized cotton t-shirt over your shorts, you wonder if it's too late to change into something more... lacy. You’ve long passed the stage of trying to impress each other with such small things. But sometimes, the small things speak volumes about deeper intentions.

You flinch at the sound of the alarm clock.

7:35 PM – alarm: Pie.

Moving into the adjacent kitchen, you turn on the LED lights, and the matte beige cabinets glow warmly. Pressing the off button, you open the oven, quickly turning away from the billowing steam. The mouth-watering aroma of apple and cinnamon fills the air. Wearing kitchen gloves, you take the springform pan and place it on the stove. A fork pierces the pie, sinking into the soft pastry and revealing no trace of raw dough inside.

Perfect.

You cover the pie with a cotton kitchen towel.

With a clink, you take two plates from the cupboard and place them on the wooden table. The cutlery follows. You’ll light the candles during dinner.

At the sound of Vhagar’s meow, you rush toward the door, your heart racing faster. The cat is already sitting on the front door rug, her round green eyes fixed on the entrance.

“Vhagar, move aside,” you gently nudge her further inside the hallway. The last thing you need is to chase her down the stairs to the ground floor.

Unlocking the door swiftly, you find Aemond standing there, keys frozen in his hand, lips spreading into a smile.

“Hi, love,” his voice comes out velvety.

Your hands instantly reach for his neck as he lifts you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs swing in the air as he spins you around, happiness flooding through you as you inhale his musky cologne. Squealing with delight, you don't care if you look silly.

“I missed you so much,” you giggle as he plants gentle kisses along the crook of your neck before pressing his lips to yours in a short, sloppy kiss.

“I missed you too,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s yours, he’s finally home, and—

“Phew, you two are disgustingly sweet.” Aegon’s voice cuts in, making you peek awkwardly over Aemond’s tensed shoulder.

Your lips part in surprise but quickly turn into a smile.

“Hi, Aeggie,” you say as your feet touch the ground again. Stepping between the suitcases, which roll in different directions, he walks into the apartment clearly unbothered as always.

“Hi, Y/N, you look gorgeous!” he says, brushing past Aemond to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How was your trip?” you ask, helping Aemond push one of the suitcases into the hall, propping it against the wall near the kitchen.

"Good. What’s that smell?" Aegon's gaze shifts toward the kitchen as he walks further into the apartment, his nose twitching. “I’m staying at yours tonight. Shall we dine and watch Avengers?” He grabs a shrimp from the salad and pops it into his mouth, moaning in praise.

“Mm, delicious!”

You give Aemond a confused look, but he just rolls his eyes.

“He’ll just pee and leave.”

“Rude,” Aegon replies, pointing a finger at his brother. “You know how important it is to stay hydrated during a 12-hour flight?”

“Easier when you’re not hungover,” Aemond retorts, irony lacing his voice as he kicks off his white Adidas.

“You need to talk to him,” Aegon nods at you, popping another shrimp into his mouth before heading down the hall.

“Second door on the left,” Aemond calls after him as he scoops Vhagar into his arms, his demeanour softening instantly.

“Hi, girl!” he coos, pressing a few kisses into her soft fur. “I missed you too.”

You bite back a smile as the cat purrs softly.

Leaning closer to him, you pet Vhagar’s back and quietly suggest, “He can stay for dinner, you know.” Aemond shakes his head, stroking the cat under her chin.

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure? He can’t be that bad.”

When Aemond meets your gaze, you notice the bags under his eyes, mirroring your own under the thick concealer you applied earlier. Among all the evening plans, dinner and a long rest seem the most urgent.

The door creaks open, and Aegon reappears, humming a tune.

As Aemond sets Vhagar down, she trots toward the suitcases, inspecting them with her nose, her tail in the air.

“Dine with us?” Aemond nods toward the table. “But no Avengers,” he adds firmly, making Aegon laugh.

“What’s the point, then? Nah, I’m good. All by myself,” he sings in a dramatic, high-pitched voice. “Besides, I have a dentist appointment in an hour.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, and you glance at him, amused.

“He’s got a date with a dentist he met a few hours ago.”

“Hot dentist chick,” Aegon corrects casually.

“Why do you call it a dentist appointment, then?” you ask, laughing.

He shrugs. “Well, because she’s a dentist.”

“Or maybe somebody can’t commit?” Aemond teases, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Firstly, commitment is boring. Secondly…” Aegon pauses, holding Aemond’s gaze and snapping his fingers as if in thought. “Eh, fuck whatever!”

With that, he strides toward the door. “Enjoy dinner!”

“Thanks, Aeggie! Have a great dentist appointment,” you call after him with a wink.

As the door shuts behind him, you and Aemond both let out a relieved sigh. But the door swings open again, and Aegon bursts in like a hurricane.

“And have good sex!”

The door slams shut once more.

Your laugh gets muffled against Aemond’s chest as his arms wrap around you, making you feel incredibly safe and secure. Suddenly, the apartment itself feels more like a real home.

“You survived that,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“Mm,” he hums, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I was counting the days till... this,” he whispers, inhaling deeply against your hair, as if savouring your scent. Your hands trace soothing circles on his broad back.

“Dinner?” you suggest with a smile, gazing up at him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “but first, I need a quick shower.”

His face glows copper in the candlelight. You press your hands to your cheeks, feeling the ache from smiling all evening. Sitting inches away from him, you can’t believe your happiness.

“And then it turned out that the entire week, Baela and I were attending the intermediate class. We couldn’t figure out why yoga suddenly felt like torture,” you say, stabbing a piece of pie with your fork and taking a bite. The dessert is practically melting on your tongue. “Today is the first day I don’t actually feel sore.”

You notice the flicker of emotion in Aemond’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on your words. Instead, he takes a bite of the pie, and you look at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Delicious,” he nods, taking another bite, making your smile widen.

“Glad to hear it!”

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s almost 10:00 p.m. Time flies so fast with him at your side. A tinge of self-reproach tells you that you should let him rest.

Rising from your chair, you start collecting plates and cutlery.

“It’s late. You need to get some sleep,” you say, walking into the adjacent kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.

"Why don't we just use the dishwasher?" Aemond suggests.

“There are only a few plates. No need,” you reply, lathering the sponge and wiping the dishes thoroughly.

You hear the chair move against the floor; his barefoot steps are almost cat-like. As he wraps his arms around your waist, you resist the urge to lean into him.

“One more plate, and I’ll join you,” you say with a soft chuckle, but he seems to ignore your words, pressing a kiss to your temple and trailing his lips down to your cheek, then to your jawline.

“You know what else has been torture?” His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you ask, turning off the tap and setting the final plate aside.

“Not being able to touch you, to taste you, to feel you,” he murmurs, each word punctuated with a kiss to your neck, making you tilt your head to the side.

Your breath hitches as his hands slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your stomach before gently squeezing your breast through your bra. Your core tightens, a reminder of how needy you are. A week without his touch, and you feel like you could melt at just a few caresses. 

“Don’t you want to rest?” you ask, looking up at him. You know it’s been a 12-hour flight. You know you should insist he get proper rest. You know he never sleeps on planes. You know you'll have enough time for this.

But when his beautiful lips whisper, “I want you,” you can’t resist.

The next thing you know, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his mouth pressing urgently against yours. His tongue moves deeper, and you gladly let him in. He tastes of wine, cinnamon, and apples. Neither of you cares about the dishes clattering or the cutlery ringing as it falls to the floor.

Your hands find the hem of his white T-shirt, and you pull it off with his help.  Your T-shirt quickly follows. Trailing your fingers along his collarbones, you clasp your arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, as he nudges your hips apart. You pepper his neck and chest with tiny kisses, giving attention to every inch of his body. Perfect. He’s perfect, just for you. You lick, you kiss, you bite. You wish you could devour him completely, and mould him into your skin so he’d never leave again.

His hand tangles in your hair, massaging your scalp, and you feel like you could purr under his touch. A hiss escapes your lips as he tugs your head back, goosebumps spreading across your body at the sensation. His kisses feel wet against your neck as he sucks on your skin, leaving love marks.

His other hand unclasps your bra, and you pull away to let it fall. Your nipples harden further in the cool air. His mouth envelops one, sucking gently before nipping it with his teeth, sending a moan escaping your lips. His hand remains tangled in your hair, adjusting your position for better access, and you obediently bend to his touch, getting drunk on his touch.

“I see you’ve been doing well with your yoga classes,” his words are a gentle puff against your breasts.

“Aemond, please…”

With that, his broad hand presses you fully against the counter, your body shivering at its coldness, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your lower belly. As you prop yourself up on your elbows, your knees bend beneath his touch, your feet resting on the counter.

“Get that perfect ass up,” he murmurs, and you instantly obey. He strips off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, your body glows warmly under the kitchen light. You’d be self-conscious about your position if it weren’t for his worshipping gaze, taking in every curve and form. You furrow your brows as he steps away, only to return moments later with a chair, adjusting it with a teasing slowness right before you.

“What are you…?”

“Gonna eat my dessert,” he says bluntly, with that he settles himself on the chair, and pulls you closer by your hips, securing his hands mightily around them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the realisation of how unholy you must look, but the thought quickly drifts away as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, giving both of them his undivided attention. Your breath hitches as you feel his breath against your heated core, your entire body prickles with anticipation.

“Fuck!” You exhale deeply as his tongue traces a line along your outer lips before burying itself inside you. Your head hits against the kitchen counter, but there’s no pain—only pleasure. Your back arches as if an avalanche is surging beneath it, making you burn. You buck your hips against his mouth shamelessly, greedily. His hand presses against your pelvis, trying to hold you in place as he devours you—faster, deeper. He feasts on you like a man starved all his life.

You choke on your moans, calling out his name like a prayer. Your nails scratch the surface while your other hand grips his soft hair, urging him to lap at you with a ferocious intensity. His groans against you send waves of electricity through your body. The unrelenting heat of his gaze never leaves you, turning you into glowing embers. You lose your mind when his nose presses against your clit again and again. The spray of light from the lamp above you blurs into a halo, as if you’re glimpsing heaven itself. For sure, the pleasure he gives you and the climax that follows are beyond anything earthly.

Your feet slide off the counter to rest gently on his lap, and he presses his hands around your shins, drawing soothing circles as he waits for you to come down from your heights. Catching your breath, you sit up, swaying slightly on the counter. Aemond’s hair is dishevelled, with a few strands falling across his forehead. His lips, full and red, glisten with your juices. You reach out to clean him with your fingers, but he captures them with a slow, deliberate suck, savouring your taste. Your breath catches. Gods, he’s so beautiful. And yours.

Letting your fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, he leans closer. “You know what I think?” he murmurs, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your neck, your eyes mesmerised by his lips. “That each dish you create is more irresistible than the last.”

Fuck. One phrase of his ignites a need within you again. His lips twitch into a smirk, as if reading your dirty mind, and all the things you wish to do with him, all the things you’d let him do to you.

“Shall we have another course in the bedroom?”

With that, he lifts you off the kitchen counter, carrying you toward the bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Vhagar dart into the kitchen toward her cat plate. You giggle softly against his chest.

“What’s funny?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Baby Vhagar was just waiting for us to leave the kitchen.”

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, she’s got a few good hours, for sure.”

As he sets you down on the bed, your gaze is fixed on his happy trail while your hands eagerly tug at his Nike pants. Your bottom lip is caught by your teeth at the sight of precum soaking through his fabric. You slide his briefs down, and he quickly tosses them away. His cock is thick and hard before you, and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Aemond’s hand slides under your chin, prompting you to meet his gaze.

“You remember our conversation?” His voice is low, almost a purr, making your brows furrow. You’ve had quite a few conversations over time.

A dangerous glint dances in his eyes. “The one about the nicknames.”

Heat floods your cheeks as the memory returns. Oh. Shit. You swallow hard, and he doesn’t miss it. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.

“So, do you enjoy it or not?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, parting it just enough to push his finger inside your warmth, gathering saliva and spreading it across your mouth. A gesture that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “Do you enjoy calling me daddy?”

Your body goes still. A mix of embarrassment and arousal swells inside you, even though it’s Aemond.

“Come on, tell me,” he urges, his voice sweet and coaxing. You give him a small nod, feeling the tips of your ears burn with blush.

A sense of triumph flickers in his eyes. “I fucking knew it,” he breathes. “There’s nothing to be shy about. You can tell me any desire of yours.” His hands cradle your face now, his touch both possessive and tender. “And I’ll make sure to satisfy them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl. You hear me?” He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yes,” you say, feeling unconditional love bloom inside you.

He hums in approval, and with that, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Now, will you be a good girl and come sit on daddy’s cock?”

And that question alone feels like a match striking the haystack.

As you straddle his hips, his hands fall on your waist, his blue eyes following you closely. Grabbing his shoulders, you adjust yourself. When the tip of his dick brushes against your entrance, everything within you shivers with the anticipation. Swallowing him inch by inch, you sink yourself down on his length. Your gasp is muffled in his neck at the delicious stretch, your eyes prickling with tears. He’s so fucking thick.

His voice is hoarse against your ear. “Somebody’s gonna be sore again.” 

You see his jaw muscles twitch, as if restraining himself from taking matters into his own hands and jackhammering into you, but he patiently waits for you. Catching your breath, you slowly start moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You burn under the blue of his eyes. You see passion, you see lust, you see love, and you feel like you could burst from the feeling alone. It feels so heavenly to have him inside you again.

“Keep going, keep riding my cock like a good girl,” he praises you, his gaze watches ravenously as you’re bouncing on him, your folds greedily capturing his length.

He presses soft kisses against your jawline, shifting towards your ear, sucking on it before giving it a bite.

“I bet the stretch my cock gives you can’t compare to your yoga class.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant in response, your fingers weaving through his hair, tugging as your hips move faster.  The burn in your thighs only fuels the pleasure, throwing you deeper into a haze of desire. 

Aemond's eyes riveted to the soft sway of your breasts, mesmerised by their movement. There's a hunger in his stare, one that makes your skin tingle under his attention. A moment passes before he grips your hair and pushes you back, making your back arch. His mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking it while his other hand holds you steady. 

“Fuck, I just can't get enough of these,” his voice is a low growl.  His tongue swirls and sucks on your sensitive bud before he moves to the other, lavishing it with the same eager devotion. It’s been too long since they felt such exquisite attention, and every flick of his tongue sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

As your hips angled, his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, making you see stars but also slowing your pace down. You need to cum. You need a release or you’ll lose your mind.

“Daddy,” you whisper so quietly, that it almost surprised he hears you.

Letting your nipple slip with a lewd pop, he asks softly, “What’s that?”

Your words come out in fragmented syllables. “My hips are…ah.. tired.”

“Mm, you wanna daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you nod eagerly, making him chuckle softly in response.

In a swift motion, he lifts your hips and turns you over on the bed, never letting his cock slip from your heat. The sheets are soft against your back. As he places your right shin upon his shoulder, holding it firmly, he begins to slam into you. Leaning forward, you capture the silver chain in your lips for a fleeting moment; the metal feels cool, a stark contrast to the heat of your bodies. But your head tips back as he sets a mind-blowing tempo, he pours all the love and lust he’s been containing inside into each thrust, throwing you over the edge like only he can. Your fingers dig into his back, undoubtedly leaving pink marks against his ivory skin, and you know you’ll be kissing those tomorrow morning.  

“Such a pretty, good girl.” Your eyes flutter, as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear, as you drown in pleasure, arching against him. “Gonna cum all over my cock, won’t you?”

Your moans come out as shuddered breaths. He looks at you in awe as if he were an artist trying to memorise each micro expression to turn you into the art. Your walls spasm and contract, as he fucks you through your orgasm. Through your blurred gaze, you see his eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, sighing at the feeling of your walls taking every drop.

He stays inside you, letting your foot drop onto the bed as you feel his cock soften within you. His hand caresses your cheek, gently pulling a few naughty strands of hair from your mouth before kissing you, tangling his tongue with yours and drawing a soft moan from you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your chest tightens at the sweet gesture.

“That was… Fuck!” Your eyes widen.

“I know.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He furrows his brow at you. “I mean that was great, but fuck, we didn’t blow out the candles.”

“Fuck.”

Your legs are tangled with his, one of his arms cradling you beneath your body while the other securely wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in his embrace. His soft, rhythmic breath is a soothing caress against your shoulder. As your eyes flutter open, you see Vhagar sprawled on the floor, basking in a stream of sunlight, her green eyes fixed on you. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze at the fluffy creature, whispering, "Daddy's finally home."

With a relieved sigh, you let your eyes close, a sense of peace washing over you as you drift back into delicious sleep, safe and sound in his arms.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

By Wednesday afternoon the whole of Hawkins High had exactly one piece of gossip on their minds.

You and Eddie Munson. Specifically you and Eddie Munson appearing hand in hand that morning, much to the shock and in Jason's case worst nightmare.

No one had to know that the little show you were putting on was fake...

It had been your idea to approach Eddie and casually bring up the subject of fake dating. Because why not piss off a mutual enemy? You knew Eddie couldn't stand Jason and vice versa.

Plus it might be the little bit of vengeance you had been waiting to exact on Jason for months now; ever since he had tried to get you to date him.

When you refused he took great delight in humiliating you. After months of bidding your time you figured out the perfect way to get back at the asshole.

Naturally Eddie was suspicious when you approached him. Not that you could blame him. It's not like the two of you ever interacted. You weren't super popular or anything but you were friends with Chrissy and Jackson.

So yeah, you totally understood why he was hesitant to talk but he quickly came round to your way of thinking.

"I like the way you think sweetheart and anything that pisses Carver off is good in my book. What are the rules though? Like kissing and shit like that?" you nod and count the rules.

"Kissing is okay, I mean it has to be believable. Holding hands, hugs. I swear he watches me like a creep all the time and since I turned him down he's been even more of an asshole, maybe if he thinks I'm seeing someone, especially his enemy he will leave me alone" Eddie frowns then his eyes light up with mischief.

"Well that's even more of an excuse to piss him off. I'm in sweetheart" the two of you shake hands and you smirk.

"Pleasure doing business with you Munson"

...

From the minute that the two of you started introducing your "relationship" to the world it caused an uproar in the high school gossip chain.

Jason as expected was fuming and Eddie found it hilarious. He made a show of fawning over you and calling you "milady", doing sweet gestures (kissing your hand and calling you princess was one of your favourites)

He was hilarious, snarky and sarcastic and you actually liked spending time with him.

Your first kiss with Eddie is meant to be something that's quick and done just to advance your "relationship" but the minute Eddie's lips met yours it was intense and passionate, honestly it blew your mind a little bit.

It's not like you didn't notice how handsome Eddie was. He was gorgeous. Even some of the girls who ridiculed him and called him a freak mentioned how hot he was. So it's not like you were blind to his charms. His goofy, overdramatic and passionate gestures never failed to hold your attention.

The two of you were having fun and yeah you liked spending time together but that's all it was. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

...

It was a rowdy lunch at Hellfire Club as usual, you were perched on Eddie's knee and listening to the chatter while ignoring Jason's glare in your direction.

Thankfully he seemed to be leaving you alone...at least for now. Who knew how long that would last? The current conversation takes your mind off Jason and you focus on that.

"Don't you two ever get mixed up sometimes? I mean the two of you get pretty close all day?" Gareth asks curiously. Eddie shrugs and you find yourself feeling sick with anticipation for his answer.

"It's just fake. It's not as if we have real feelings for each other or anything" Eddie waves off Gareth's concerns and something inside you breaks.

Of course that's how he felt. It was like a cold dose of reality and boy did it hurt. It was so easy to lose yourself in this, for the lines of fake and reality to blur.

Faking a smile you nod along and then bury your head in Eddie's chest, he probably thinks you're doing this to annoy Jason but it's so he doesn't see your tears.

You were so stupid for falling for Eddie when all of this didn't mean anything to him.

...

Yes I will be expanding on this if people want that 🥰❤️

[julietsf1]

Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3

warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?

AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies

----------------------------------------------------

The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.

When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.

“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”

He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”

I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Without another word, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.

With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.

“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.

He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.

I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”

A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.

Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.

“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.

Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.

“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.

My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.

I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.

His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.

I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.

[elliesgaythoughts]

toxic bbf!ellie pt2

angst & smut

a/n: now idk how i feel about this one but i kinda like it but i kinda don’t so idk yall can be the judge of this

warnings: long ahh fic, strap r! receiving, size kink, exhibitionist kink, squirting, use of mama ofc, use of doll and pretty girl, titty sucking, masturbation e!receiving.

jealousy coiled in the depths of ellies stomach as she watched the pale hand skim the outside of your bare thigh.

it was just the three of you in the house. ellie, with her auburn hair pulled back into a messy bun as she sat manspread. her palm rested against her stomach that was twisting with guilt and jealousy as she watched the pair of you from across the living room in her single chair. 

she came over to meet with your brother but he wasn’t back from football practice yet so she thought she may aswell show up early and fuck you for a while until he arrives.

her plans took a sudden turn for the worse when you answered the door to her with an abby anderson standing behind you with low eyes and arms wrapped around your torso.

“you can wait in the living room ellie” you rolled your eyes dismissively and slammed the door behind her..

you sensed the way ellies green eyes bore into your cleavage that peeked above your tight vest. it ignited a flame in you as you watched jealousy eat away at her from the corner of your peripheral as abbys firm hand massaged the plush of your thigh as she watched the tv mindlessly.

you invited the muscular blonde over tonight knowing that ellie would be there. you needed someone to make you feel better after all ellie had put you through and you knew the girl that ellie has hated since childhood was just the one you needed.

abby lightly tapped your outer thigh signalling you to climb onto her lap. your ass peeked out of the bottom of your tiny little shorts, giving ellie the perfect view as abbys hand slid higher and higher up your thigh, her thumb lightly brushing your clit caused your breath you to hitch as she giggled at your reactions to her touch as you blushed stupidly.

ellie coughed to clear her throat, catching both of your attention before she spoke with sarcasm dripping in her tone “maybe you two may want to go upstairs” she said, knowing what was about to happen and hating how the sight of your face blushed and your nipples poking through your tiny vest had her clit throbbing in her jeans. even though it was because of another woman she still took in the sight of you like she earned it. her mind ran wild with thoughts of how it could’ve been her making a mess of you on that sofa and it ate away at her.

“why?” you groaned, not even sparing ellie a glance as you kissed at the side of abbys neck, licking up the vein that appeared there as she strained a moan at the feeling of you grinding against her belt buckle.

ellies pussy was fucking beating as she resisted the urge to buck her hips up against nothing. her nails dug into the armrest of her chair as the plush of her lips separated to speak “because you both are being whores”

you could hear the irritation in her voice and you couldn’t help but giggle at how easily you got under her skin before you sighed softly at her “oh ellie you can leave whenever you want” you teased. the room went silent as you waited for her to leave, knowing she wouldn’t.

you couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you softly gripped abbys throat and looked into her baby blue eyes “you don’t mind putting on a show, do you?” her hands gripped your hips tightly “i don’t give a fuck about that bitch.”

usually ellie would be on her feet at the sound of somebody talking shit about her but right now her mind was at other places while her ears rang, not hearing the “thank you, daddy” that rolled off of your tongue before you gave abby a sloppy kiss.

her tongue rolled against yours. almost as slow as your hips moved back and forth against the bulge in her pants as you grew wetter at the feeling of this girl being completely lost in lust over you and the thrill of putting on a such a show for ellie.

the longer you made out the more frantic abby became over you as her hands wondered every curve of your body, skimming the goosebumps on your thighs, cupping your breasts and toying with your nipples before lifting your vest over your head and tossing it in ellies direction before instantly latching her mouth onto your perky tits, making a moan leave your throat as you gripped the back of her head “mhm just like that mama.” you groaned out.

after a few minutes of abby moaning against your tits pathetically you gripped her plait and pulled her hair back, making yet another whine leave the girl. she was fucking crazy over you already. this felt so much better than whatever it was ellie had going on.

abbys eyes met ellies as your hands trailed down abbys chest, skimming the material of her nike sports bra, down her firm abs and finally to her buckle as you trailed your false nail over the cute little design on it “may i?” “uh huh” abby hummed as her hips thrusted up gently against you.

you undone her belt and pulled her zipper down as the pink silicone sprung out of her trousers “fuck” you spoke to yourself as you took in the size of her. it was bigger than anything you’ve ever had before but that only excited you more as she gripped it and tapped it against your pajama covered pussy “you think you can handle it for me baby?”

butterflies danced in your tummy as your face heated up “mhm” you spoke shyly but to be honest with yourself you weren’t to sure but you knew you weren’t going to go down without a fight…

your head was spinning as the tip of her strap stretched you out and your chest grew hot “oh fuck” you whispered as your breath left your body and your eyes fluttered close as you gripped her shoulders and lowered yourself onto her. the burn from the stretch was addictive as your eyes teared up and your pants turned into zoned out whines “oh my god” you strained out to say as two pairs of eyes watched how drunk you became because of abbys dick.

ellies hand fell against her crotch as she closed her eyes and listened to the sultry sounds that left you. she wore a furrow on her forehead as her fingertip pressed against her clit while she heaved a breath through her lips and rocked her fingertip back and forth as her thighs spread farther apart.

a broken moan left you as you took in the last of abby.

your eyes were still closed as you steadied your breathing. your arms wrapped around her neck, loving the feeling of her back muscles under your fingertips and her dick taking up more room inside you than you had to offer.

you opened your heavy eyelids as your eyes met abbys. sweet whines left you as you swayed your hips, opening yourself up as she reached down and massaged your clit back and forth. your movements were in sync with hers as you got lost in her gaze.

ellie watched your back arch to reveal your soaked pussy that swallowed abby so greedily. ellie fucking hated this. her fingers sped up as she rubbed her pussy frantically over her trousers as her other hand clasped firmly over her mouth, catching a moan against her palm.

you loved the sound of the muffled moans from behind you mixing with yours as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. abbys dick hit deep inside you with every bounce of your hips down onto her as you gasped for breath and moaned curses to yourself.

you leaned back and held yourself up with one of your hands against her knee while the other reached down and played with your clit as you gave the tall blonde the image of her cock nestled inside you as you released a pornographic moan as your head fell back and your eyes landed onto ellies.

almost instantly all of the freckled girls pride disappeared before your eyes as her breath hitched and she shamelessly humped her hand right in front of you “ohfuck” she rushed out as she felt her pussy leak through her trousers. her hips stuttered and with the way her mouth fell open you already knew she was done for as you quickly turned your attention back onto abby.

you gripped her chin to steady yourself as your hips rolled up, keeping just her tip inside you as you circled your waist and slammed yourself back down against her over and over. the harness bumping her clit had her bucking her hips aimlessly as you leaned over her, looking into her glossy eyes as tears of ecstasy threatened to spill “so pretty doll” you cooed.

abby nodded as her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure and she landed a harsh smack to your asscheek and pulled you closer as she grinded against the base of her harness, grinding her dick into you farther as she whined in response to you licking the side of her ear and whispering “cum for me.”

somehow ellie must have thought you were talking to her because right after abbys eyes rolled to the back of her skull ellies voice cracked with a “fuck you” as you noticed the all too familiar final low groan of her reaching her orgasm.

both of the girls laid there twitching as their orgasms pulsed through them while they watched you rub your clit softly and your eyes flutter close. “damn” you hummed as your pussy squeezed her dick and your forehead pressed against abbys while she watched you in awe as your legs shook and stomach contracted as your orgasm creeped closer “im gonna cum. c-can i cum?” you begged shakily.

“y-yeah cum for me baby” abby stuttered out. her big hand reached forward and gripped your both of your tits as has her mouth met your sensitive bud. her tongue rolled over your nipple before her cheeks hallowed and sucked a bruise onto to flesh, bringing you over the edge as you shook and moaned ellies name as you finally came, squirting all over abbys dick and lower stomach as your body convulsed and you lost basically all consciousness.

your eyes fell closed. you felt pure ecstasy as your vision went white and your ears rang. all you could hear was the sound of your own breath’s steadying and ellies little snicker in abbys direction as she realised the hold she continued to have over you.

ellie stood on wobbly legs and ran her fingers through her messy auburn hair  that fell out of her bun.

she spoke down to abby “clean her up for me.” as a sick laugh left her and she walked out of the room, leaving you and abby in silence as everything started to come back to you. fuck. why the fuck did you say that.

your forehead left abbys shoulder and your eyes met hers. guilt coursed through you when you saw her eyes well with tears and your gut twisted as her head dipped “uh l-let me help you get cleaned up” she barely whispered.

“babe-” your voice cracked as you tried to speak while you lifted her chin.

tears spilled over your eyes and ran down your cheeks as you sat there speechless.

“it’s okay” abby sighed through her lips.

“baby she’s nothing to me” you rushed out.

her words were barely above a whisper at this point as she pulled her shirt back on and guided you off of her gently. leaving you on the sofa as she stood over you. she jumped slightly as she heard the front door slam and ellies truck start in the driveway.

“don’t fucking lie to me” and just like that abby left you too. leaving you in puddle of your own cum and guilt.

you hated how you felt. your body convulsed as you curled up into a ball and sobbed into your palms as snot ran down your nose. you felt like you were about to fucking puke as you heard someone pull out of the driveway.

you ran out of your front door hoping to see abby but your blood started to boil at the sight of ellie rolling a joint in the front of her truck.

“what the fuck ellie?!” you yelled.

she rolled her window down and tilted her head for you to come closer as you walked towards her “what?! what the fuck do you want?”

“aye calm down mama. it’s not my fault you had to think of me to cum with that bitch”

you started to giggle as tears fell from your eyes again you felt like you were going insane. “what the actual fuck?” you asked throwing your arms out to the side “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

she shrugged her shoulders as she took a hit and blew the smoke towards your face making you break out coughing as you waved the cloud away.

“get the fuck out of my driveway ellie” she took a deep breath “nah. im good” you pushed her through the space in her window “get the fuck out!”

ellie ignored you entirely “here take a hit princess. you really need to calm down” you ripped the joint from her hand and tossed it down onto the ground “fuck you ellie”

ellie simply rolled her eyes and turned the radio up before muttering “psycho bitch” under her breath and pulling out of the driveway, leaving you standing there in front of your fucking neighbours with your hair a mess and tears falling for the what felt like hundredth time tonight as your brother pulled up against the curb.

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull

[propertyofemilyprentiss]

Soft skin and soft lips

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x non-bau fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: Emily coming home from a case late at night, finding your stubborn form still awake (but not for long).

TWs: none

A/N: wrote this last week to cure my writer’s block (safe to say it did wonders). anyway! here’s my first fluff fic. enjoy <3

Word count: 1.5K

The sound of keys rustling into the door got you out from the half-asleep daydreaming state you were in after eliminating every possible distraction from boredom you had - a random TV show, scrolling endlessly on your phone, even cleaning the apartment. Normally, you would’ve gone to bed by now, but it was a Friday night and your girlfriend was coming home from a case, and you knew she would be exhausted after six days of tracking down another criminal. The least you could do is be awake when she gets home, though she always insisted that you didn’t need to do that.

But one thing was for sure - your stubbornness could almost compete with hers.

So here you were at almost one-thirty in the morning on your couch with a blanket over your legs, waiting for that magical sound. And as soon as you heard it, it felt like you’ve slept all day - you were wide awake, with a stupid smile on your face as you got up and went to greet Emily.

’’Hey, you”, came along with a long embrace as soon as she closed the front door behind her. 

You immediately noticed the corner of her lips moving upwards, her exhaustion temporarily fading when she got you back in her arms.

”Hey, I thought you'd be asleep by now”, she murmured, not really letting go, but pulling back enough to look at your face. That beautiful face of yours, those eyes that always made her heart skip a beat because of the look of pure adoration that engulfed them every time you saw her.

”And miss the opportunity of going to bed with my girlfriend tonight?”

The way you say that word, the way it lingers perfectly from the tip of your tongue, it’s almost embarrassing how you perfectly know how to tease her - she still gets flutters from it. She’s already sure by now that she will never get tired of hearing it, always making her feel like a lovesick teenager instead of a very capable FBI agent, for God’s sake.

”I missed you”, she whispers, her voice hinting the vulnerability she was feeling in that moment.

And that’s when you knew - the case was a lot tougher than usual. You didn’t need to ask questions, didn’t need any profiling skills to read the look in her eyes - the love, the worry, the exhaustion, the relief of your presence. It was all there.

That’s why you’ve always loved her eyes.

You smile affectionately, cupping her cheeks and planting a kiss on her forehead. And then you felt the urge to do more, continuing your kisses on both her soft cheeks to the tip of her nose, your own heart fluttering in your chest when she scrunched it adorably in response.

“I missed you too, love. Now how about a nice cup of tea while you go change, hm?”

Emily nods reluctantly, hating the thought of letting go of you in this perfect moment, but she knows that she can’t stay glued to you forever - though she would happily do it if she could. So the next best thing was a hot shower and a fresh pair of pajamas, knowing that you were waiting for her in the bedroom afterwards.

Her hands linger on your back for a moment before she forces herself to move away, but not before stealing a kiss, her lips tender against yours. 

“You missed that spot”, she teasingly whispered before heading towards the bathroom.

You couldn’t help the silly grin that emerged on your face, the flutters in your heart only increasing with her gesture. The way her lips are perfection, always in unison when they meet yours, the way she slightly squeezes her hands on your sides in a comforting way, the way her breath feels against your face-

‘God, get a grip on yourself’, you shook your head as you made your way to the kitchen, trying to do the impossible task of not falling in love even more as you made that cup of tea.

Searching through the top cabinet, you grabbed the only box there was, analyzing it for a moment. Berries, raspberries, strawberries - this should do it. You got one tea bag out, moving automatically around the kitchen with a comfortable familiarity as you gathered the rest of the supplies needed. And as you were waiting for the water to warm up, you inspected the mug with another stupid smile tugging at your lips.

“I ❤ my girlfriend” , was written with black font on a white background - you and Emily got a matching set after Garcia subtly suggested it at a girls’ night, rambling non-stop about how adorable it would be. And though you never thought you were that type of person, the idea immediately grew on you once you spotted Emily’s proud grin as she looked at you the whole time Penelope was talking.

Needless to say, those mugs were the most used ones in your apartment at the moment.

Fifteen minutes later, you were sitting on your side of the bed, Emily’s mug waiting patiently for her on the nightstand while you were not so patiently waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. You leaned against the headboard and sipped from your own matching mug, but soon put it back down when you felt your eyelids grow heavy. This was not the moment to fall asleep.

But maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt, right? You will definitely hear when she gets out, or when she joins you in bed. So you closed your eyes and melted back down on the soft mattress, sighing tiredly before unconsciously succumbing to sleep in record time.

—

Emily was humming a gentle melody as she got out of the bathroom, feeling much more refreshed and excited to see you again. She was already dreaming of that cup of tea and the thought of finally sleeping in the same bed as you instead of an uncomfortable hotel room without your presence.

”Dar-“, she stopped talking as soon as she saw you fast asleep, adorably gripping the blanket, your hair laying messily all over the pillow. She swore her heart just melted on the spot.

Carefully, she tiptoed to her side of the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible to avoid waking you up, and picked up her mug, another smile creeping on her face as her eyes landed on the words on it. Yes, this was indeed her favorite one. 

Well, everything that included you was automatically her favorite. 

A few sips later, she placed it back down on the nightstand, turned off the lights and compensated with her nightstand lamp, and slowly got into bed, rolling on her side to gaze at your sleeping form. Then, almost subconsciously, her fingers gently started tracing all the lines and features in sight, your slightly parted lips, your cheekbones, nose and eyebrows, taking in your peaceful expression. It’s almost unfair how beautiful you look even when you’re sleeping. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?”

With an even gentler motion, she snuggles up next to you under the blanket, letting her arm loosely around your waist while she buried her face in the crook of your neck, the familiar scent of your shampoo filling her nostrils. She lets out a long sigh, leaving all the stress and tension behind with it and setting herself present in this moment. With you here next to her, in your shared apartment, feeling your skin against hers and listening to the sound of your breathing, Emily finally feels the familiar sense of comfort and contentment - finally feels at home.

And God, how she missed this - she sometimes wished she could stay like this forever.

So, even if she can already feel herself starting to drift off, she forces herself to stay awake for a few more minutes, just savoring the moment of being close to you.

”I missed you”, she repeats against your chest. “I love you so much, it sometimes becomes scary, you know? When I’m away for more than usual, I dream of you…every single night. And somehow I wake up with my heart aching more for you”, she kept rambling in a whisper, taking advantage that you can’t hear her. “It’s like it can feel your absence in every place I go without you. And now I’m home and everything feels right again. Because you are here…thank you for being here”, her voice slightly trembled at the end.

And a few minutes later, after her breathing became deep and regular, signaling her asleep state, you let the smile finally break onto your face. You were definitely going to bug her about it in the morning.

”I love you too”, you said it back with the softest voice, placing one final kiss to her temple.

[fyiin7]

You must be haunting me..!

⋆˚✿˖° In which you're forced to join the ghost hunting at the haunted house with your friends, but then they left you with the lingering ghost.

⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Ghost!Satoru X Fem! Reader

⋆˚✿˖° SMUT, oral sex (f receiving), missionary, p in v, swearing

It's kinda long, but enjoy ;D

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

The soft hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filled the cozy little restaurant as you sat with your friends. It was one of those rare moments when the four of you managed to gather around a table without someone running late or bailing at the last minute. The smell of freshly cooked ramen filled the air, and you were halfway through a steaming bowl when Nobara spoke up, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"You guys know about that old haunted house, right?" Nobara's voice cut through the conversation like a knife. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, her usual boldness giving way to an almost mischievous grin. "We should totally go check it out tonight."

You paused mid-bite, glancing between Yuji and Megumi, unsure if she'd just suggested what you thought she had. Yuji, ever the thrill-seeker, looked intrigued already. He set down his chopsticks and shot Nobara a grin. "Ghost hunting, huh? I'm in! It sounds like fun."

Megumi, however, wasn’t sold. He raised an eyebrow, the usual calm expression on his face hardening slightly. "That place? You mean the one everyone says is cursed?" He sighed, clearly conflicted. "I don’t know, Nobara. People have gone in and… well, weird things happen."

Nobara waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon, Megumi. Weird things always happen when you look for them. It's just an old house. What’s the worst that could happen?"

You could see the hesitation in Megumi's eyes as he looked at you, like he was silently asking if you were going to back him up on this. But then Yuji nudged him with his elbow. "Don’t be such a buzzkill. It's just one night, and it'll be over before you know it."

Megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but if something actually happens, don't say I didn't warn you."

As they turned to you, all eyes locked onto yours, you could feel the weight of the decision pressing in. You weren’t exactly eager to spend your night in a house famous for scaring the living daylights out of anyone who dared enter. But with your friends clearly set on going, it was hard to see a way out of it.

⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖° ⋆˚✿˖°

Whether you like it or not, you'd still need to join anyway. The house stood before you like a shadow of its former self, tall and looming, with broken windows and peeling paint. The air around it seemed unnaturally still, as if the night itself held its breath. The old iron gate creaked in the wind, and the overgrown lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. A cold chill ran down your spine as you stared at the dark structure.

"Well... here we are," Yuji said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

Nobara grinned, her excitement unshaken. "Perfect. Look at this place! It's just like one of those haunted houses from the movies. We’re definitely getting some good stories out of this."

Megumi sighed, his eyes narrowing at the house as though sizing up an enemy. "This is a terrible idea."

"You already agreed, remember?" Nobara teased, nudging him. "Don’t chicken out now."

You stayed quiet, your gaze locked on the front door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. The longer you stood there, the more the oppressive atmosphere of the place seemed to weigh on you. It was as if the house was watching, waiting.

"Alright, let’s do this," Yuji said, breaking the silence as he pushed open the rusty gate, the screeching sound making you wince. He led the way with a flashlight in hand, illuminating the narrow path that led to the entrance.

As the group walked closer to the house, every step seemed heavier than the last. Nobara was practically bouncing with excitement, while Megumi lagged behind, his eyes scanning every shadow, every movement.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you approached the front door. There was no turning back now.

The air inside the house was thick with dust and the faint scent of mildew. Each step you took echoed through the empty hallways, but after a while, the fear you felt outside began to fade. The house was silent—too silent—but as time passed, nothing unusual happened.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Yuji said with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “All those stories must’ve been made up.”

“Right?” Nobara added, glancing around at the cracked walls and sagging ceiling. “A haunted house, my foot. I bet people just freak themselves out.”

Even Megumi, who had been tense the whole time, seemed to relax a little. “Let’s just hurry up and leave. We’ve seen enough.”

You nodded, relieved that the visit might end without anything strange happening. But just as you were about to agree and suggest heading back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind you—footsteps that didn’t belong to any of you.

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Yuji, who had been walking a little ahead, turned to face the hallway behind him. “Did… Did you guys hear that?”

Before anyone could answer, the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Then, at the far end of the hallway, a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared, floating in the darkness. The light from the eyes was dim at first, but as they grew brighter, the air around you felt colder, heavier.

Nobara’s bravado cracked, her voice trembling as she whispered, “What the hell is that?”

Without warning, Yuji let out a panicked yelp and bolted down the hallway. “Nope! I’m out!” His footsteps pounded against the wooden floor as he sprinted ahead.

“Yuji, wait!” Nobara called after him, but the fear in her voice betrayed her own nerves. She and Megumi quickly ran after him, disappearing around a corner.

You stood frozen for a moment, the glowing eyes still fixed on you from the other end of the hall. A cold sweat ran down your back, and you turned to chase after them. But before you could make it to the hallway's end, the door to the room you were in slammed shut with a deafening bang.

You grabbed the handle, twisting it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. “Guys?” you called out, your voice breaking as you pounded on the door. “Guys, the door’s stuck!”

But all you heard in return was the faint echo of your voice, swallowed by the heavy silence. The glowing eyes vanished, leaving you alone in the dark room, the air around you suddenly colder than before.

Your heart raced as you tugged at the door, desperate to get it open. Panic surged through you, but before you could call out for your friends again, you felt something else—something cold. Icy fingers wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you away from the door.

You gasped, struggling for breath, your heart hammering in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, but when you turned around, the sight before you made your breath hitch in an entirely different way.

Standing before you was a man—a ghost, no doubt about it. His skin was impossibly pale, almost glowing under the faint light of the room. His eyes, an eerie yet mesmerizing shade of blue, twinkled with mischief. A sly smile curled on his lips, and though the chill from his touch still lingered on your skin, there was something undeniably handsome about him.

"Whoa there," he said, his voice smooth and playful. "Where do you think you're going, running off like that?"

You blinked, your mind struggling to process what was happening. His arms stayed casually wrapped around your waist, holding you close in a way that felt far too intimate for a ghost.

“Who… who are you?” you stammered, trying to push back, but your movements were weak under his steady gaze.

He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Name’s Gojo Satoru,” he introduced, his voice laced with confidence. “And you are… definitely not supposed to be here.”

You swallowed hard, trying to pull your thoughts together, but he made it impossible to focus. “W-what do you mean?”

Satoru’s grin widened as he leaned in a little closer, his cold breath brushing against your neck. “I mean, a place like this isn’t meant for someone as cute as you. So what brings you to my humble, haunted abode?”

The way he looked at you—how his gaze roamed over you like he was savoring every second—made you painfully aware of just how touchy he was. Even though his skin was cold, his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, fingers lingering as though he were still alive and not some phantom.

Your face heated, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else. “We—my friends and I—we just came to check out the place.”

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Curiosity’s dangerous, you know. Especially around here.” His voice dropped into a teasing tone as his other hand lightly brushed your hair back from your face. “But then again, I can’t say I mind having a little company.”

You were flustered, torn between the chilling realization that you were talking to a ghost and how undeniably charming, even flirty, he was. Every word he said dripped with playful teasing, and his constant touch only made your pulse race faster.

“Are you always this... forward?” you managed to ask, trying to regain some composure.

Satoru smirked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “When I see something I like? Absolutely. Besides…” His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to talk to. Might as well enjoy the moment, don’t you think?”

His playful, flirtatious demeanor wasn’t helping your already frazzled nerves, but despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the strange pull he had over you. He was a ghost—he shouldn’t feel so real, so present. And yet, here he was, teasing you, touching you like you weren’t separated by life and death.

Satoru's arms stayed firmly wrapped around you, his presence overwhelming in the stillness of the room. His smirk widened as he studied your flustered expression, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned in a little closer, his breath cool against your skin.

“You know," he drawled, his voice dripping with playful mischief, "it's pretty naughty of you to be in here alone... with a male ghost, no less."

You blinked, his words sinking in. Alone? Your gaze quickly flickered around the room, only now realizing where you were standing. The creaky old bed in the corner, the tattered curtains, and the musty scent—it wasn’t just any room. It was the bedroom.

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you tried to pull away, but Satoru held you firmly in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Something wrong?" he teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched your discomfort. "I thought you’d be more adventurous, sneaking around a haunted house at night. Or were you hoping for a different kind of thrill?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his words caught you off guard. Before you could speak, Satoru tilted his head slightly, his voice softening into a low, seductive whisper. “Tell me, have you ever thought about... experiencing something new?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?”

The grin on his face deepened, and without answering, Satoru leaned in closer. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek gently, his icy fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His face hovered just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. The air felt thick, charged with an intensity you hadn’t expected.

“What I mean,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, “is something like this.”

Before you could react, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, but undeniably electrifying. The coldness of his touch contrasted with the warmth that suddenly bloomed in your chest, and for a second, the world outside that room ceased to exist.

Satoru’s kiss was slow, teasing, as though savoring the moment. He was a ghost, an ethereal being, and yet somehow, he felt so real, his presence so tangible that it made your head spin. You couldn’t tell if it was the fear, the surprise, or something else entirely, but you felt like you were sinking deeper into the strange, thrilling connection that held you both together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes gleamed with playful mischief. “So… how’s that for something new?”

Before you could even gather your thoughts or catch your breath, Satoru leaned in again, this time with far less patience. His lips crashed against yours in a rougher, more urgent kiss, one that left no room for hesitation. Your breath hitched as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the chill of his touch seeping through your clothes.

The softness from before was gone, replaced by an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body. His kiss was deeper, more demanding, like he was claiming you in that moment, and despite every rational thought screaming at you to push him away, your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the magnetic pull he had over you.

The sensation of his lips, cold yet somehow fiery with passion, made your head spin, your mind blanking out everything except for him. His fingers trailed up your back, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin as his mouth moved against yours, not giving you a second to process what was happening.

Satoru broke the kiss for a split second, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he whispered, “You taste even better than I imagined.” His voice was low, husky, dripping with a teasing tone that made your heart pound even harder.

Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his kiss rougher still, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, cold and possessive, as though he was determined to make sure you wouldn’t forget this—wouldn’t forget him.

And with the way your body reacted, you weren’t sure you ever could.

Without warning, Satoru's hands tightened around you, and with a swift, effortless motion, he pushed you backward. You stumbled, barely managing to gasp before your back hit the mattress, sinking into the creaky old bed. The springs groaned beneath your weight, and you stared up at him, your heart racing.

Satoru loomed over you, his pale face framed by the dim light filtering through the cracked window. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and something darker, more primal. His grin widened, satisfied with how easily he had you at his mercy.

Satoru grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to admire the sight, before straddling your waist, his hands gripping both of your wrist together with his hand.

"You're mine now," Satoru growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'll take what I want from you." He pressed a kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin, before trailing his lips down to your collarbone, making your breath hitched and let out a small whimper. "And tonight, I want to fill you up with every drop I have."

Satoru's hands roamed your body, unfastening the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. He leaned in, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it, before switching to the other one. His hips rocked against you, grinding against you through your shorts. You feel your panties sticking to your pussy because of how wet you are.

"Soon, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Soon you'll be begging for more." You couldn’t help but rock your hips back to his harden cock, needing to release the desire pooling between your thighs.

Satoru chuckled darkly, feeling your body respond to him. "You're such a tease," he said, his voice laced with desire. He pressed his body further down on yours. "But I like it," he admitted, his mouth finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

Breaking away, Satoru trailed his lips down your body, his hands exploring your curves, making your body shivered slightly with his cold lips. For some reason, it makes your desire for him heightened. He pull your shorts down before hooking his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them aside. He could see the wetness, smell the scent of arousal, and it drove him wild.

"You're so ready for me," he said, his voice low and husky. He spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. "But first," he said, his eyes locked on your wet pussy, "I need a taste."

"W-wa- ngh..!" before you could protest, he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lick your folds, tasting the sweetness. Satoru groaned, his cock throbbing at the sweet taste of you. He began to lick and suck, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving your mind to a haze, your back arching slightly at the feeling of the wet muscle exploring your cunt. Your hand instantly went down to tugged on his hair, his tongue is cold too, and it provides you a different sensation.

Satoru grinned, feeling your hand in his hair. "You like that, don't you?" He asked, his voice muffled by your body. He continued to pleasure you, his tongue teasing your clit, flicking it before he sucked it into his mouth. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueling his lust.

"S-satoru..I-I can't..!" you moaned, your clit too sensitive at every single flick of his tongue.

"It's okay, baby. Cum for me," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let me taste it." He continued to work your body, his fingers joining in, slipping inside your wetness. He knew the perfect rhythm to push you over the edge, and he was determined to succeed.

Satoru's own arousal was nearly unbearable, but he wouldn't let himself climax until you did. He wanted to feel your body quiver against his mouth, your release coating his tongue.

You feel the coil in your belly tighten and he knew you were close by the way your walls tighten around his fingers. You bucked your hips against his mouth, seeking for more pleasure. "F-fuck..faster please..!" you begged.

He smirked as he obliged, speeding up his ministrations, sucking harder on your clit, his fingers pumping inside your pussy. "You want it faster, huh?" He teased, his voice thick with lust. "You'll get it."

He could feel the tension building, your body trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to miss the moment you came undone. "That's it, darling," he encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. "Let it go, let me feel it."

Satoru increased the pressure, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out, hitting your sweet spot. "N-ngh! Satoru..I-I'm gonna...g-gonna cum-!"

It was only a matter of moments before he felt your body shudder, walls clenching around his fingers as you came. He lapped up your juices, savoring the taste, before pulling away.

"Good girl," he praised, smirking as he wiped his mouth. "Now it's my turn." He pull down his pant enough to reveal his cock, long and girthy as he positioned himself at your entrance, throbbing with need.

Satoru pushed his cock into you slowly, groaning as his length fills you up and how tight your pussy is. You bit your lower lip, holding in your moans. "Y-you're so big Satoru.." you said softly.

Satoru smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "You'll get used to it," he promised, before he began to move. Slow, deep thrusts, letting you get accustomed to him. He could feel your body adjusting, tightening around him, and it made him even more aroused.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss, his hips rolling, grinding against you, your moans muffled with the kiss. "God, you feel so good," he whispered against your mouth. His hand reached up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently, before moving down to stroke your clit. Your body quiver, your nub still sensitive.

"Let me hear you, sweet," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me hear how much you love this." He began to thrust harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of her, the sound of bodies slapping together filling the room.

"H-hah! F-feel so good..!" you moaned, eyes rolling back to the back of your skull at each of his thrust against your G-spot. Satoru's grip on your breast tightened, his other hand holding your hip, keeping you pinned. "Cum for me, my sweet," he demanded, his voice thick with lust. "Cum while I'm inside you."

Satoru groaned, his own pleasure building. He was close, so very close. "That's it," he praised, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his body losing control. "You're so tight, you're going to make me lose it."

His thrusts became more desperate, more frantic, his grip on your body tightening. He could feel the tip of his cock swelling, the need to release building. "Come for me," he growled, the last of his restraint slipping

"C-cumming!" you screamed. Satoru could feel your body tensing again, and it was enough to push him over the edge. With a deep growl, Satoru let go, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed. "Fuck," he swore, his body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over him.

He collapsed onto your body, his breathing heavy, his cock still buried deep inside you. "God, that was good," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected to you, before pulling out and rolling off you.

"That was...something.." you spoke, still trying to process what had happened. Satoru chuckles softly, his finger caressing your cheeks with a smile. "Sleep my darling, I'll clean you up."

For some reason, his voice makes you sleepy, like he's lulling you to sleep. So you decided to trust him and closed your eyes. It doesn't take too long until you finally fell asleep by his side. By the side of a ghost.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings. The warmth of the blankets cocooned you, and for a moment, you felt safe and content. But as your eyes adjusted, the reality of where you were began to seep back in.

You turned your head to the side and froze. Yuji and Megumi were sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched across their faces. Nobara stood nearby, her arms crossed, looking equally worried.

“Thank goodness you’re awake!” Yuji exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. “We were so worried!”

“What happened?” you croaked, the memories of the night flooding back in a chaotic rush. The haunted house, Satoru...

“We found you unconscious in that bedroom,” Megumi explained, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. “We thought you’d just gotten scared or something, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Nobara stepped forward, her brows furrowing in apology. “I’m so sorry for leaving you alone! We should have stayed with you.”

You shook your head, still trying to piece together what had happened. “I was fine. I… I was just resting.”

“Resting?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “You were out cold! What really happened?”

You hesitated, the memories of how you just had sex with the ghost in the house still vivid in your mind. “It’s... complicated,” you finally said, your heart racing at the thought of how to explain.

Megumi's gaze softened. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. We thought maybe something... strange happened to you in that house.”

You glanced at them, their concern genuine, and felt a wave of gratitude mixed with confusion. “I’m fine now,” you assured them, though the lingering feelings from the night before were hard to shake. “Really. Just a little... overwhelmed.”

Yuji grinned, though his relief was clear. “Well, let’s get you something to eat. You need to regain your strength after scaring us like that!”

As they helped you sit up, the warmth of their friendship surrounded you, but the memories of what had happened in that haunted house lingered at the back of your mind, leaving you wondering about the strange encounter that felt so surreal. You hope..that it's actually a real encounter.

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[wowzer-bowzer]

Title: Breaking the Press

Summary: Paige wants to be more then teammates

Paige was already drenched in sweat, her heart pounding in sync with the squeaking sneakers on the court. Practice had been brutal, but that was nothing new. She thrived in the chaos, in the exhaustion, in the moments when the game demanded everything from her.

“Y/N, hit me on the wing!” Paige shouted, her voice cutting through the noise as she sprinted down the court.

You had the ball, your eyes scanning the defense like a hawk. You were the calm in the storm, Paige’s perfect counterpart on the court. Where Paige was fire, you were the ice, and together you burned through the defense like wildfire.

Your pass was clean, crisp, and exactly where it needed to be. Paige caught it in stride, barely breaking her momentum before rising up for a three. The ball sailed through the air, spinning in slow motion, and then – swish. Nothing but net.

“That’s what I’m talking about Paige! You yelled, grinning as you jogged back on defense. Paige gave you a quick wink, her usual way of saying ‘thanks.’

The practice continued, a blur of drills, scrimmages, and sweat-soaked jerseys. By the time Coach finally blew the whistle, the team was wiped, but satisfied. Paige wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, her eyes finding yours across the court. There was something about the way you moved, the quiet confidence that always caught Paige’s attention. It wasn’t just that you were a great player – it was the way you seemed to understand Paige without needing words.

As everyone filed into the locker room, Paige hung back, waiting for you. She needed to talk to you, about something more than basketball, something she’d been pushing down for a while.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Paige asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

You looked up, slightly surprised but nodding. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You both walked out the locker room, the noise of the team fading as you headed towards the empty bleachers. The gym was quieter now, the only sound being the faint echo of your footsteps.

Paige sat down on one of the lower bleachers, you joining her. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out between the two of you. Paige fiddled with the hem of her jersey, trying to find the right words.

“You ever feel like… I don’t know, like something’s missing in life?” Paige finally said, her voice quieter than usual.

You looked at her, your eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just, lately, I’ve been thinking a lot. About the game, about life, about…the future.” Paige’s heart was racing now, and she could feel her palms getting sweaty. This wasn’t like her – she was usually so confident, and sure of herself. But now all she could think about was, what if everything went wrong.

You didn’t say anything, just waited, your eyes never leaving Paige’s. That was the thing about you– you were patient, always letting Paige take the lead.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…I want you in my future. Not just as a team mate but more. You mean a lot to me. Not just on the court, but… in every way. I don’t want to mess things up, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel something more.”

You blinked, your expression unreadable. For a moment, Paige thought what she dreaded the most was happening, that she’d ruined everything and made a midrange. But then, you smiled – that slow, warm smile that always made Paige’s heart skip a beat.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” you said softly.

Paige felt a wave of relief wash over her, a grin spreading across her face. “So, where do we go from here?”

You chuckled, leaning back on the bleachers. “Wherever we want. We’re a team. We’ll figure it out together.”

Paige nodded, feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. She reached out her hand, it finding yours naturally. For the first time in a long time, Paige felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. And the only thought in her mind now was her future… her future with you.

A/N: Not my best work 😔.

[cryptfile]

Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Lost in Translation 🇳🇴📰

Ingrid Engen x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

In your cozy Barcelona apartment, you and Ingrid sit down for a Norwegian lesson. In hopes to help you prepare for your upcoming trip to Norway and making you feel more confident about meeting her family.

Ingrid sat at the small round kitchen table, sunlight pouring in through the large windows of your cozy apartment in Barcelona. Her long hair was tied into a loose bun, her focus completely on the cup of coffee in her hand. Across from her, you sat fingers tapping lightly on the notebook in front of you.

"Okay," you started, flipping to a new page, "I’m ready. Teach me some more Norwegian."

Ingrid chuckled softly, setting down her coffee. "You’re so determined, I love it."

You had been trying to learn Norwegian for weeks now, ever since Ingrid had playfully teased you for only knowing how to say "jeg elsker deg" (i love you) which, to be fair, was a solid start. But you wanted more. After all, Ingrid had worked so hard to learn English when she moved abroad for football, and you felt like it was time to return the effort.

"Let’s start with something simple today," Ingrid suggested. "How about we go over some common phrases?"

You nodded eagerly, holding your pen above the notebook, ready to jot down every word. Ingrid smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with affection as she watched you.

"Alright, how do you say 'good morning' again?" she asked, knowing you'd already learned this one.

"God morgen," you said confidently.

"Very good! Now, if I wanted to say 'have a nice day,' I’d say...?"

"Um…" You hesitated, wrinkling your nose as you tried to remember. Ingrid leaned in, her voice soft as she gave you a hint.

"Ha… en…"

"Ha en fin dag!" you exclaimed, finally remembering.

"Perfect!" Ingrid grinned. "You’re getting the hang of it. Soon you'll be fluent."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m trying."

Ingrid leaned across the table, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You’re doing amazing. But, maybe we should add some more useful phrases? What would you say if you were visiting Norway with me?"

"Like, asking for directions?" you asked, scribbling the new idea into your notebook.

"Exactly," she replied. "Let’s say you’re lost and need to ask someone where the train station is. You would say, "Unnskyld, hvor er togstasjonen?""

"Wait… "Unnskyld"? That means 'excuse me,' right?"

"Exactly." Ingrid beamed. "Then "hvor er" means 'where is,' and "togstasjonen" is the train station."

You repeated the phrase a couple of times, trying to wrap your tongue around the unfamiliar sounds. Ingrid watched, her expression softening as she saw the way you furrowed your brows in concentration.

"It sounds so much better when you say it," you mumbled, embarrassed at your attempt.

Ingrid laughed lightly, reaching across the table to take your hand. "You’re being too hard on yourself. I love hearing you speak Norwegian. It’s cute."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart swelled at her words. "Alright, what else should I learn?"

Ingrid tilted her head thoughtfully before a mischievous smile crept across her lips. "How about some romantic phrases? For example, "Du er vakker"."

You blinked, looking at her suspiciously. "Okay, I’m going to assume that’s something nice, but I’m not sure."

"It means, 'You are beautiful,'" Ingrid said softly, her gaze locking with yours.

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced away for a moment, suddenly flustered. "You say that all the time, but now it’s even sweeter knowing what it actually means."

Ingrid chuckled, standing up from her seat and walking over to you. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders from behind, her chin resting on the top of your head as she whispered, "Jeg elsker deg."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. "I know that one," you said, your voice teasing. "I love you too."

She kissed the top of your head gently before sitting back down. "You’re getting there, love. Soon, you’ll be able to speak with my family when we go to Norway for Christmas."

"Yeah, about that," you said, your tone turning a bit nervous. "What if I completely embarrass myself?"

Ingrid shook her head, her expression turning serious, but still filled with love. "You won’t. Trust me, they’re going to adore you no matter how much Norwegian you know. They’ll probably be impressed you’re learning at all."

You sighed, feeling a bit reassured. "I just want to be able to talk to them without you having to translate everything."

Ingrid smiled gently, reaching across the table to hold your hand again. "You’re already doing more than enough. And besides, we’ll be together. That’s what matters, right?"

You nodded, your worries slowly melting away as you gazed into her eyes. "Right."

A comfortable silence fell over the room, only the sound of birds chirping from outside filling the air. Then, after a moment, you cleared your throat and asked, "Okay, serious question though: how do I ask for more cake in Norwegian?"

Ingrid burst out laughing, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, I should’ve known you’d want to learn that. It’s "Kan jeg få mer kake?""

You repeated the phrase a few times, testing it out, before grinning. "Perfect. Now I’m ready for Norway."

Ingrid laughed again, her face lighting up with joy. "I think you’re going to do just fine."

You knew you wouldn’t be fluent by the time you went to Norway with Ingrid, but with her by your side, you felt like you could take on anything. And if all else failed, at least you knew how to ask for more cake.