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nanaslutt · 5 months

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Thinking about inexperienced Choso accidentally doing the knee thing during a makeout sesh

ʚ cont: afab reader, making out, dry humping, sexual tension, dirty talk, teasing, first time orgasming (Choso), cumming untouched, cumming in pants (Choso and reader)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You lay back against Choso's hard chest, his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso as you lay on your bed together, catching up on some show the two of you have been watching. After watching about 4 or 5 consecutive episodes, the familiar "Are you still watching?" question showed on the screen, making you sigh.

"Whoever created this idea sucks, of course I'm still watching." You mumbled under your breath, beginning to lean your body off of Choso's to reach for the remote. Little did you know, Choso had been aching to kiss you all day. He knew the two of you usually ended up sharing kisses when you were alone like this, and each time it happened only increased his neediness for the next time you were together as he began to expect it as he did now.

Choso kept his arms tightly wrapped around your torso, preventing you from leaning forward. You were jolted back against his chest, your eyes going wide when you realized you were stuck. A smile grew on your face when Choso plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he blushed furiously, hoping you would catch on to what he wanted so he didn't have to say it.

You turned your head to face him and cupped his neck with your warm hand, pressing his face against you. "Cho, how am I meant to move when you hold onto me so tightly, huh?" You teased, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. Choso's eyebrows furrowed against your skin when he felt the familiar touch of your lips on him. He tentatively raised his head and looked into your eyes, his cheeks already a deep crimson red, eyebrows furrowed in a desperate look.

You kept your hand on his warm neck, feeling his pulse race under your fingertips. You smiled and licked your lips, staring back and forth between his eyes. Choso's breath was already picking up as the tension began to grow between the two of you. Choso swallowed hard as he looked between your eyes and your plush lips, looking like they were begging to be kissed.

You leaned in ever so slightly, lips grazing against his, your body feeling hot when his arms tightened around your body as you did so. "Tell me what you want Choso." You whispered, your hot breath tickling his lips. Choso's lips were parted slightly expectantly, his breathing now more audible. "I wanna kiss." He replied, his fingers curling into your shirt that covered your stomach.

You bit your lip, your nose tapping against his as you continued to tease him. "Yeah? You wanna kiss me?" You whispered, turning your head to the side as you readied yourself. Choso's eyes fluttered softly as he nodded, his eyelids already feeling heavy even without touching you. Choso let out a noise of surprise when you pressed your lips against his. His thighs twitched ever so slightly with the need to press his legs together, but you were between them, so he couldn't.

Choso felt his brain turn to mush as you massaged your lips against his, soft barely there sounds getting caught in your throat making him go crazy. Choso never broke the connection even when he released your body in his arms and slowly slid out from behind you, maneuvering your body so you were against the pillows he was just laying against. They were warm with his body heat, feeling welcoming as Choso placed himself between your thighs, on top of you.

Your chest rose and fell heavily as he dragged his large hands up and down your body, your shirt riding up as he played with your sides, touching you everywhere he could. Choso loved kissing, the sensation of his lips intertwining against yours combined with the feel of your body and the sounds you made when you kissed him took over his brain completely, trampling over and pushing out any and all other thoughts.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctually, making Choso whine at how good your body felt against him. His hands itched with the need to touch you higher up each time he caressed your torso. Your chest rose and fell heavily against him, your back slightly arching off the bed each time he overpowered his tongue with yours, making you feel dizzy.

Choso was a bit shy when it came to intimate activities, up until he was actively participating in them, then his instincts took over and he became more confident. You and Choso had been dating for a few months and had never gone past heavy petting and kissing, but you would be lying if you said your body didnt ache to go further with him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and slowly slid them around to his back, grabbing the nape of his neck with one hand while your other disappeared under the collar of the back of his shirt. Choso's eyes rolled back in his sockets at the touch, even though his eyes were closed. He felt that same familiar ache build itself up deep in his stomach, and the position he was in was giving him no relief.

His pelvis was close to being pressed against yours, but it wasn't, leaving his unknowingly throbbing cock to twitch against the confines of his boxers with little to no friction. You lightly raked your nails over the skin of his back, feeling his hard muscles under your hands as the kiss increased in fervor, getting more intense.

Choso took it upon himself to adjust his position a bit, sliding one of his legs to the side a bit so his pelvis was against the bed and the underside of your thigh. You smiled against Choso's lips, feeling how needy his tongue was getting against yours. You were caught off guard when you felt a strong thigh press firmly against your cunt, making your lips separate from his in an embarrassingly loud whine.

Choso stopped kissing you to look at your expression, worried he might've hurt you. With furrowed eyebrows and a fucked out expression, you reached both hands between your bodies and pressed them agaisnt his thigh, trying to ignore how hard you were throbbing against his leg. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Choso gasped, not yet realizing what had happened.

"Choso, your knee." You whined out breathlessly, pressing against his thigh again, silently begging for him to let up before you lost control. You were already holding back enough. Choso's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked between your bodies to see his thigh tightly against your cunt, and your hands pressing above where you were connected.

Choso immediately pulled his leg back and apologized, slotting his leg back to its original position. You saw the muscles in his jaw bulge out under the weight of his teeth as he looked away in embarrassment, worried he had ruined the mood. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. touch you there." Choso apologized, darting his eyes back over to yours every so often.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him against your shoulder, forcing his head to be buried in the crook of your neck. This abrupt action surprised Choso, he placed his hands on your hips and waited for you to speak, focusing on how loud your heart was beating against him. "No, it's okay. It.. it felt good." You whispered, turning your head against his ear, your lips grazing his skin.

Choso felt that same familiar heat build-up in his tummy again at your confession, it was getting unbearable. This is usually where the two of you stopped when he felt a little too worked up for his own good. But this time, he didn't want to stop, he wanted to see where this would go. "It felt... good?" He questioned, staring at the bedsheets in front of him as he lay on your shoulder.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear that sent a shiver down his spine. "You can put it back if you want." You suggested, making Choso shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He didn't know much about pleasuring others or even himself, but he knew the type of "good" you were talking about was much like the one he felt when he pressed his crotch against the sheets, or your leg when you kissed.

Choso pulled his head up from your shoulder and brought his face agaisnt yours, a hair length away from your lips. You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes for a moment before you pulled him against you by his cheeks, forcing your lips together in a kiss. The kiss was just as needy and hasty as before as the two of you opened your mouth against one another in a sloppy makeout.

Choso swallowed hard before he started moving his leg again, trying to remember the position he had it in. When you felt his thick thigh press against your throbbing clit again, you gasped into his mouth, a sound he eagerly swallowed up, his face growing redder at the sound.

You felt dizzy as your back arched against him, your hands once again wrapping around his neck for support. You squeezed your legs around his thigh and relished in the feeling of your clit getting stimulated from the pressure alone. Choso could feel he felt something twitch against his leg, but he had no idea what it could be, all he knew was that it made his own problem feel ten times worse.

Choso started kissing you more intensely, his own cock being stimulated against the sheet and the underside of your leg once more. You whimpered into his mouth, your hips twitching agaisnt him, ever so slightly rubbing your cunt against his leg. "This feels really good." Choso gasped into your mouth, feeling the heat in his tummy boil up within him.

You nodded, making a sound of agreement into his mouth. You felt like you were seconds away from cumming, you couldn't believe how aroused you were. Your whole body burned with pleasure and arousal as you sloppily kissed into Choso's mouth, the kiss being more tongue and teeth than anything.

You felt that familiar pressure build up in your abdomen, making your thighs twitch and your body curl against him. Choso increases the pace of his kissing, his lips now moving jerkily and unceremoniously against your thigh. "Choso-" You whined against his lips, both of you now panting and whining into the other's mouth. Choso felt like something was going to happen, and he didn't want to stop, he needed to feel whatever this was leading to.

His fingers dug into your hips as his lips started parting against yours, as did your own against his. Both of your moans and pants grew silent as you gasped against the other's mouth. It was only still for a moment before the two of you came crashing down. Your body shook with pleasure as you came in your panties, your abdomen curling in against Choso and twitching as you orgasmed on his thigh.

Choso's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came, hot spurts of cum being released into his pants. With each rope of cum he released, his hips would cant involuntarily against your own. Choso groaned and gasped against you, his head going numb as sheer, white pleasure wracked through his entire body and overwhelmed all of his senses.

The two of you gasped and whined heavily as you came down from your highs, fighting to catch your breath and recover. Your bodies were limp against each other, but you still held each other tight, not wanting to separate just yet. "That felt so... so good," Choso whined into your neck, a shiver wracking down his spine. You nodded against his shoulder, raking your hands through his messy hair. "Uh-huh...so good." You replied, equally as fucked out as you nodded dumbly, breathing heavily with Choso's full weight resting against your body.

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moondirti · 1 month

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can i say something crazy? cw: piss. nasty stuff

simon who has absolutely no respect for his bird's privacy.

comes back home from work; all sweaty and churlish and dour, soot caked on his face and hands, welder boots announcing his arrival in heavy, lazy footsteps. he doesn't call for you, but your gentle hey babe sounds from the bathroom anyway, half-distracted by the videos on your phone. the idea of you coddled at home since he left at dawn that morning — cushioned in bed until late, one hand in a bowl of cherries on ice that still drips condensation over your nightstand, the other pushing a new record for screen time on tiktok, the lengths of your legs all soft, bitten, exposed in set of flimsy shorts, cooled by the fan overhead, all ready evidence to why he puts up with as much shit as he does — drives him a little mad to think about. stokes a hunger in him, a mix of pride and masculinity and possessiveness that has him pushing into the room. despite the fact that his needs aren't urgent, not pressing enough to justify this.

this — standing right before you, so that your manicured toes kiss his leather soles. saying nothing as he unbuckles his belt, gruff, quiet, completely uninterested in addressing your concerns when you look up at him with those squinted eyes. it isn't above simon to make you suck him off while you're on the toilet, and really you wouldn't mind, but you get the sense that isn't what this is when he knocks your legs apart with his knees. little fuss to the action, little reaction to your spread pussy.

his cock bounces out about eye level with you. soft. nonetheless hefty and thick and large, bowing down even as he wraps a rough palm around its base. he can see the revelation find you in real time when he places his free hand on the wall behind you. the cresting arch of your brows. the grimace mangling your cheeks. the prissy pout of your lips. if he weren't so exhausted, he might have it in him to take your face right there. it's just the right combination of horror and fascination to get him going.

"simon noooo," you whine, throwing your phone somewhere, scrambling back until you can't anymore, porcelain tank pressing flush to your back. "just wait your turn. please!"

"'nuff of tha'. shush now." he huffs, chuckling a bit when he realises that you only made things worse for yourself by leaning away. your hips now jut out, cunt propped centre of the bowl.

there's no shyness, no stall on the release. his piss comes out in one, hot stream, washing right on target to hit your little clit. you shake your head, so disgusted with him he knows he'll have to make it up later. still, you do nothing to discourage it, sitting in place like a good pet, only occasionally tensing your legs against the steaming shower. some splashes on your belly, some on your thighs and the rim, yet it's never ending. you wonder if he planned this all day, held in the four cans of san pellegrino you packed for his lunch, just so he could give them back to you.

you just don't realise that not all of it is his.

"sad t'be missin' out on th' fun?" simon mocks, finally pulling away. he shakes the last of it off his cock, swiping a hand over his tip, before tucking himself back in. you blink, look down, and realise that somewhere along the lines, you started peeing too.

and have yet to stop.

"it's natural!" you wail, squeezing your pelvis floor in a last ditch attempt to save your dignity. it's no use. having started, it's near impossible to stop. your necks discovers a new type of heat in the humiliation, burn licking its way up your face. your ears tuck into your shoulder.

"yeah, yeah." he patiently waits for you to finish, cupping a hand under your elbow to keep you upright as you stand on fawn legs. his lips are paper thin, fleeting, when they press fondly to your temple. "now off to th' shower w'ya."

your nose crinkles. "you know you need one more than i do, right?"

"and wha's a shared bath?"

#surprisingly domestic. or as domestic as he can be #unedited as always #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #tw piss

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sahkuna · 2 months

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wanted to write a drabble about this canon factoid about gojo and his inoue waka lockscreen. ugh, he's such a loser i miss him.

☆ — gn! reader (no pronouns mentioned), fluff, set in 2007, pining gojo, percieved to be in the same universe as not so invisible string (but can be read as a standalone) so also tagging eventual friends to lovers…

“You’ll never get a girlfriend if you keep that as your phone’s wallpaper,” Shoko says as she scrunches her nose in disdain at the promiscuous photo of Inoue Waka clad in a tiny baby blue two-piece bathing suit.

Stunned by her sudden accusatory (and unprovoked) comment, Gojo blinks at his home screen once, then twice before he slides his gaze sideways to the brunette beside him. Shoko’s still looking at him as if he had pissed his pants or something, her judging gaze flitting back between him and his flip phone.

What’s wrong with his wallpaper?

Gojo didn’t think much of it when he set it on his phone last week. Even Geto hadn’t shown much of a reaction when he got a glimpse of the new home screen. Inoue’s a beautiful woman and this photo of her on the beach doused with seawater complimented her features really well.

Straightening his posture in his chair, Gojo juts out his chin a little, ready to shut down Shoko’s slander on his choice of wallpaper. “Well, I think it’s quite nice—”

“It’s too horny.”

He cringes a bit at that.

Shoko waves a dismissive hand in the air, unbothered about how Gojo’s eyebrows are tightly pinched together with artificial offence and betrayal. She quickly follows her statement with, “Your lock screen is the first thing people see when you show them your phone, right?”

A wounded pout is the only response Shoko gets, so she continues. “So make it something meaningful. Just… just anything but that,” she scoffs, harshly pointing a pale pink nail at the offending picture.

Something meaningful, huh?

Gojo presses his cheek into his palm and thinks of a million and one things he could set his screen to. Then, as if a light bulb went off in his head— shining light onto every crevice in his mind— he’s presented with the one.

Easy.

You’re supposed to be studying.

Supposed to.

But for the past fifteen minutes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. No matter which direction you swivel your head, whether toward the bookcases or the nearly vacant tables behind you, you find no one here besides you and the librarian.

You conclude that you’re just tired, especially considering how extensive your studying has been within the last hour.

You turn your focus back to your notes and reread the line you last left off on, writing notes along the way.

The abrupt sound of what you assume to be a camera shuttering quickly pulls you out of concentration. You seize your writing and glance around the library, silently looking for the suspect behind the noise.

Who the hell would be taking pictures of you in the middle of a library?

You turn your head to the left and lo and behold, a few chairs across from your seat and the vast mass of your notes and books scattered across the wooden table sits Gojo Satoru.

It was as if he materialized out of nowhere.

Upon being caught, a gleeful grin spreads across his lips and his cheeks pop with a healthy, bright hue. Since there was no need to hide in plain sight any longer, Gojo slid out of his chair and into the one seated right across from you.

Your senior gives you a two-fingered salute. “Hey.”

That’s all he offers you before he raises his flip phone camera to eye-level view and snaps another picture of you.

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me,” you say, trying to swat his hand and phone away from your face. You vaguely wonder if he was ever taught the golden rule of how everyone was entitled to having a “personal bubble” around them back in preschool.

But judging how his flip phone is obnoxiously close to your face, practically trying to get his lens to merge with your skin, clearly not.

You softly knock his hand away again with the back of yours. Fortunately enough for you, he temporarily relents. “Why’re you taking pictures of me?” you ask.

“Why not?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you feel an oncoming scowl almost crawl onto your lips when you watch Gojo lamely jump his shoulders to his ears.

However, not wanting to give your teacher a reason to storm into the campus library right now and wring you two by the neck, you choose peace and decide to pick at his brain as to what brought him here to you. “Why, though?”

“Why not?” he repeats.

Fuck that, this was getting you nowhere.

“Well, I have some heavy studying to do.” You throw a wary glance at Gojo, who seems to have only brought him, himself, and he to your not-so-private study corner. “So I’d appreciate it if you would… lay off on that…” You gesture blindly at the phone he was scrolling through, pressing multiple buttons to go through his gallery and admire the pictures he’s taken.

“Oh, me?” Gojo presses a hand on his chest in a faux woe-is-me act hoping to garner your sympathy. His sunglasses slightly tip off the edge of his nose and there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “You don’t even have to worry about me. Pretend as though I’m not even here.”

“Easier said than done,” you mumble more so to yourself than him.

Gojo leans back in his chair, his arm propped against the upper ledge of his seat and watches you, content that you haven’t shooed him away from your presence altogether.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, and you think this is fine. If he can keep quiet like this for the next 15 minutes while you finish up the last remnants of questions you have left, you’d go home with an empty to-do list and a clear conscience.

“You know…” Gojo suddenly pipes up, and you hiss an irate Oh my God at his antics. “If you look at the camera just once, I’ll be out of your hair. I promise.”

Sighing heavily, you toss your pencil defeatedly between your notebook's pages. Anything to get him out of here, honestly. “Fine, make it quick.”

Gojo laughs, carefree as always. “Okay, okay, just…” He raises his phone into view once more. “Just smile this time, yeah?”

Behind his phone you see his free hand drift toward his lips. His index finger gently pulls at the corner of his mouth, tugging it into a warm smile. You’re positive that this is a silent request for you to produce one of your own, so you give.

However, your smile comes out looking a bit strained. You feel it, Gojo sees it.

“Wanna make it less forced?” he teases.

“Shut up!”

Relaxing a bit, you try once more and muster up the best star smile you can produce and for a split second, something in Gojo’s chest does a sick sort of squeeze, tight and hard.

If there were any way to describe it, Gojo would say it was the kind of smile you’d request and pay for a print version if it were for school photos.

He watches you for a beat or two through the lens of his phone, his ice-blue eyes are both soft and probing.

Since when did you smile like that? Could you do that more around him? How can he get you to—

“Hurry, please,” you say through clenched teeth, keeping your posture.

Ah, right.

Thumb hovering over the OK button, Gojo quickly snaps your photo.

“Happy now?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo nods all the same, grateful for your cooperation, regardless of how brief it was.

“Where’s this even going?” you question, watching how your upperclassman fiddles around a bit longer on his phone. God knows what he’s doing with your pictures now.

Gojo glances at you searchingly, before he offers you a quick and easy smile. His eyes dart back down at his phone and reads the prompt on his screen.

Ready to set as new wallpaper?

“Somewhere special, you could say.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #sahkuna!

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teapartyprincess4two · 30 days

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On Stream- M. Sturniolo

pairing: gf!reader x bf!Matt

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, short, slight cursing, some suggestive comments

summary: Matt mentions you on stream, causing the chat to go crazy.

—

Nowadays it seems that Matt and Chris have an abnormal amount of free time.

The pair have spent the past few days running errands, catching up on chores, spending quality time together, and unwinding. But two energetic young men can only do so much relaxing before it becomes unbearably boring, especially without you and Nick around.

Nick’s somewhere across the globe, relishing in the perks of having good friends. He’s experiencing the world with a sense of individuality, having been apart from his triplet brothers for over a week.

Without Nick around the house is quiet and boring enough, but Chris and Matt can usually count on you to keep them company. But it seems that they see you less and less every day.

You aren’t somewhere far away, not physically at least, you’re just very, very busy. As you enter the fall semester, you’re juggling a multitude of responsibilities including school, work, your social life, and your relationship. But as you adjust to your crazy hectic schedule, you spend less time at home with Matt and more time nose deep in a book.

So, just as the brothers grow accustomed to the eerie silence that haunts the halls of their home and the boredom that settles into their everyday lives, they decide enough is enough and take up a new hobby. Streaming.

Today, as Matt anchors himself in his rolling chair, his eyes skim through the endless chats that flood his screen. Chris sits next to him, a vibrant and excited smile adorning his features.

This is their third consecutive day going live on Twitch. At first they went live to entertain and chat with their fans, but now they’re doing it to occupy their bored minds.

Chris’s eyes skim the chat, fixating on one message in particular. He subconsciously reads it aloud, “Is Y/n on tour with Nick? We miss her.”

After reading the comment, the chat was flooded with similar messages asking for you. Matt slumps into his chair, the mention of your name reminding him that it’s been a week since he’s seen you.

“Nah, she’s just busy with school right now,” Chris replies mindlessly, skimming for another comment to read.

A lot of the viewers noticed Matt’s mood shift. They noticed the way his eyes drooped and the way the corners of his mouth turned into a frown. They especially noticed the disassociated look he wore, mind traveling to a place only you could bring him out of.

“Matt,” Chris says, waving a hand in front of his brother’s face. No response. “Matt!” He tries again, louder this time. Matt still doesn’t respond, only coming back into reality when Chris violently shakes his shoulders.

“What, dude? What?!” Matt asks, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Chris replies with an eye roll and a small scoff.

Suddenly the blaring ring registers in Matt’s mind as he pats his pockets in search of his phone. When he finally finds it, your name illuminated the screen.

“Who’s calling?” Chris asks, stretching out his neck in hopes of catching a nosy glimpse at the caller ID.

“Umm be right back chat. Y/n’s calling,” Matt says, words spewing out a mile a minute. He disappears from the room faster than ever, immediately pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is music to Matt’s ears. It feels like forever since he’s last heard it.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “everything okay?”

You hum in response, followed by a soft yawn.

“You sound tired. When are you coming home?” Matt asks, softly leaning against the wall. You’ve been at school all day stuck in lectures and studying, so Matt knows you need some well deserved rest.

“I’m on my way now. That’s why I called, wanted to see if you guys were hungry so I could pick up something to eat.”

The excitement that courses through Matt’s veins is unreal, winding him up with enough energy to last until tomorrow. He can’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you, and make up for all the lost time.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he replies, pausing for a second to compose himself, “I just wanna see you.”

A warm smile graces your features and if Matt could see it he’d mirror your expression.

“I’ll be home soon don’t worry. How’s the stream going?”

“Huh?” For a second Matt forgot that he and his brother were live streaming for thousands of people.

“The stream. Aren’t you live with Chris right now?”

“Ohhh. It’s going… it’s going good.” Matt replies with a soft sigh.

Your smile is momentarily replaced with a frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going good. What’s wrong?”

Matt’s fingers pinch the bridge of his nose before gliding across his eyelids and massaging the tense nerves and muscles on his face. “It’s going fine. I just can’t focus. The chat keeps asking about you and it’s honestly making me really sad.”

A small chuckle escapes your lips. “Aww my poor baby. Can’t focus on Fortnite?”

“Not Fortnite.”

“Oops, sorry. Fall Guys?

“Y/n.” Matt warns, though he finds it slightly funny too.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll be home soon with some good food and open arms. We can cuddle and watch a movie, or do anything else you wanna do. Okay?”

Matt feels his spirit lighten up again, a cheeky smirk forming on his face. “Anything?”

“Don’t push it,” you laugh.

Just as Matt’s about to respond, he’s cut short by Chris calling his name from inside the room.

“Get back to your stream. I’ll be home soon, handsome.”

Matt’s lips form a silly pout you can’t even see as he replies, “But I wanna keep talking to you. Miss you so much.”

“MATT!” Chris calls again, this time much louder than the last.

“We’ll talk all you want when I get home. Now go! I have the stream pulled up on my computer and I think Chris is gonna start twerking,” you say, trying your best not to laugh.

“Holy fuck this kid,” Matt groans, face palming. “Alright baby, I love you. Drive safe.”

“I love you too,” you say through small giggles before hanging up.

When Matt renters the room, he’s not surprised to find Chris dancing for the camera. He pushes past him and settles back into his rolling chair wearing a huge, toothy smile.

“What did Y/n want?” Chris asks, briefly glancing at Matt as he switches from doing the griddy to shuffling across the room.

“Just asked if we were hungry,” Matt shrugs, attempting to act nonchalant, but there’s no hiding the newfound pep in his step.

“And it took you that long?”

“I was catching up with my girl. —Why the fuck are you still dancing?”

“Someone gifted,” Chris says, slightly breathless as he bops from corner to corner.

“Alright…” Matt shifts towards the computer, “What did I miss?”

He reads comments, expecting most of them to be about Chris and his absurd dancing skills, but he’s surprised to find that they’re all about you.

Some fans ask where you are, others ask what you’re doing, some speculate on the conversation you and Matt had, and others simply comment on how much happier Matt seems since talking to you.

All Matt can do is smile and patiently wait for you to arrive, ready to bombard you with kisses as soon as you step through the door.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n: hi babies! Hope you enjoy this short oneshot! I know I haven’t updated or posted much in a longggg time but I honestly had writers block :P I’m trying to get into the habit of writing again, so bear with me pls. I have a lotttt of drafts (some that just need to be edited) so be expecting that soon! Luv you all 😚

- L.A.M.B🪽💝

—

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strang3lov3 · 6 months

Text

Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel.

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day.

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple. You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something.

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy.

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand.

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you.

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic.

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable.

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you.

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.”

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake.

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.”

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.”

The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear, “S’okay, sweet girl.”

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles.

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft.

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

“Is that it?”

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says. “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.”

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste.

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to.

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs.

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view.

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try.

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips.

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment.

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt.

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt.

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold.

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure. You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure.

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on.

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg.

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend.

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man.

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further.

“Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x virgin reader

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heich0e · 7 months

Text

sukuna is clingy when he sleeps.

you wake in the early hours of the morning to a veritable vice grip circling your waist. it takes you a moment to gain your bearings, but when you do, you recognize sukuna has both of his arms wrapped around you, holding you snug against his chest. he's practically become your own personal futon—your entire body resting overtop of his—but, regardless of the circumstances, he doesn't seem to mind it considering how soundly he's sleeping underneath you.

you lift your head, using your hands against his chest to push yourself up slightly. glancing down at him, you hold back a laugh at the sight: he's frowning, even in his sleep.

how typical.

"sukuna," you mumble sleepily, glancing over to the clock on his bedside table as you blink away the sleep from your eyes. the clock must be unplugged, because there are no numbers lighting up the clockface, but his cellphone rests just beside it on the tabletop. you reach over—as far as you can given the unyielding hold he has on you—and tap the screen to see the time. you sigh. you repeat his name again.

he doesn't stir.

you repeat yourself two more times, though you keep your voice low. it's barely dawn, and yuuji is asleep only a room away, so you can't be any louder. you start shaking him lightly in tandem with your calling of his name.

finally his nose wrinkles in discontent, a single eye cracking open.

"whaddaya want?" he grumbles as he lets his eye close again, his arms tightening even further in their grip on you.

"gotta get up," you reply. "yuuji'll be awake soon."

the youngest itadori brother tends to be an early riser—a morning person to his core. sukuna tends to rise early only when absolutely necessary, and he's as far from chipper in the mornings as a person can possibly be.

"don't care," sukuna mutters.

"i care," you counter his indifference with indignation.

he doesn't reply, seemingly having fallen asleep again.

"sukuna, let me go," you whine as you fight his hold, but it doesn't waver for a moment.

"baby, stop," he grunts as you wiggle uselessly against him.

you freeze.

his eyes open in the wake of your sudden stillness, a look of suspicion on his face.

"baby?" you repeat quietly as he looks at you.

"what, you don't like it?" he asks, quirking a brow. "would you prefer brat?"

he calls you that anyway, so your preference matters very little.

you're a bit flustered by the sudden turn of events and sukuna leverages this momentary reprieve to his advantage: using his hold around your waist, he pulls you over so you're resting on your side in his bed, facing him. there's little light in his bedroom this early in the morning—just the faintest bit of sun on the distant horizon—but you can still make out his face even in the dimness. his eyes are open but still heavy-lidded with sleep as he watches your face closely.

"go back to sleep," he finally grunts out, tugging you into him so that your cheek is pressed to his chest.

"what about yuuji?" you ask.

"i'll take care of it," he replies dismissively. you hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again: "you're not the only brat i'm used to dealing with. right, baby?"

#big brother!sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

Text

Yandere Head Canons:

Build-a-Yandere

Yandere Android x GN Reader

You were lonely. A fact that you eventually came to terms with when you realized you’re the only one in your friend group that still remained single while they started families.

You felt so far behind everyone else. The self doubt crept its fingers into your mind and wouldn’t let go… so you did what you did best. You drowned yourself in the internet. The perfect digital escape from reality…

Dating apps did little to appease your loneliness, but they filled a bit of the void. It wasn’t until you were one wine bottle deep and scrolling through your favorite social media app that you stumbled upon an advertisement to sample a product.

Build-a-boyfriend. A company that allowed its customers to pick every single aspect out for their ideal man. From personality to physical appearance and even to penis size. You could build your own man!

A slurred chuckle escaped your lips. Should you apply to test out their product? It’s not like you had anything to lose… what could be the harm in giving it a shot?

And so you began to fill out the quiz. You wanted a soft and gentle boyfriend. One of those golden retriever boys who only had eyes for you. The kind of guy who had a muscular yet soft build. A man who worked out but would never say no to a cookie. A taller guy who always knew what to say and was cuddly. The kind of guy who was obsessed with you.

The quiz even asked you at the end if you were sure you wanted an obsessive man. Of course you were! Wasn’t that what most people wanted? A partner who was only and all about them? That’s what obsession was! Right?

And so your drunk self finished this entire personality quiz until it went to the physical appearance and the sexual bit. A perverted smile now on your face.

“Let’s give him a big penis.” You laughed as you guided your cursor to drag the length bar to eight inches long. “I want to be filled.”

And then you selected caramel skin tone, cinnamon eyes, and black hair. A smile on your face. You were going to make this android a Latin lover.

“What should I name him…” you thought for a moment before laughing. “Alejandro! Like the lady Gaga song.”

Once you completed the entire quiz, your phone screen lit up a pastel pink. A red heart now in the center of the screen. “Your boyfriend will be delivered to you in a month! Thanks for choosing Build-a-boyfriend!”

And you ended up falling asleep in a puddle of your own drool. Weren’t you just pathetic? Filling out a quick from some questionable website all because you were lonely… imagine you were just scammed? God, why did you not have a boyfriend? Ever since your ex broke up with you, you fell apart. Why weren’t you good enough for a real man?

A month went by in a flash and you were shocked to see the giant package on your doorstep. An envelope attached to the box as well as a large note that said, “No returns!”

This had to be some kind of prank… there was no way this was real- holy shit.

You opened the crate and came face to face with your ideal man… the one you built! Alejandro!

The human like android’s eyes fluttered open, his face quickly lit up once he spotted you. “(Your name)? Are you my girlfriend?!”

You were quickly scooped up into his surprisingly warm arms, the android had a heavy scent of spice and oranges. His nose buried into your neck as he pressed kisses all over your cheeks. “It’s so nice to finally be with you… I’ll be with you from now on!”

Alejandro was a chipper robot. He did household work and made sure you took care of yourself. It was fascinating how human he was… you only knew he wasn’t because of his lack of a beating heart. His body still produced heat, like a furnace, but it wasn’t as comforting as a human presence.

Alejandro assimilated into your life with ease. The weeks quickly rolled into months and he never let you ignore his presence. He was very clingy.

Now the sex was another story. Alejandro was so giving, it was surprising. He often went down on you when he sensed you were stressed. His tongue greedily lapped at your hole as you laid in your bed while his hands held your cheeks apart. His hand pawed at your sex in eagerness. “I want you… want you.”

And Alejandro had you bent over the side of your bed, his fat cock stuffed deep in your tight hole. His hand wrapped around your throat and his tongue shoved in between your lips while his other smacked your bottom between rough thrusts. The sex was amazing… it was always so good.

And Alejandro often checked on you after the deed was done. His warm body curled into yours as he praised you. Yet it began to fill you with disappointment. Alejandro wasn’t a real man. He wasn’t human… he was an android. A robot. Alejandro didn’t know what love was, he was programmed to love you.

So you tried to distance yourself from Alejandro. You felt sickened with yourself for messing around with an android instead of a real man. And this entire thought process stemmed from your friends who expressed disgust in people who fucked robots instead of actual humans. And that filled you with fear. Would they abandon you if you didn’t get rid of Alejandro? Would they think you were disgusting?

“If you want, I could set you up with my cousin!” One of your friends smiled at you as you bit your fingernails. “He’s also single so it should work! I’ll swing by in a week to give you the details!”

Yes. You would take them up on their offer. You just had to get rid of Alejandro first… but how?

A few days had went by and you greatly underestimated Alejandro’s obsession. The android couldn’t handle your avoidance. He began to turn up his affection to the max.

He cleaned until you could see your reflection on the floor. He began to go out of the house to pick you wild flowers. Alejandro even began to be more physically affectionate than he was.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry.” Alejandro cried into your arms as he held you. “Please tell me what’s wrong… please. I can fix it.”

“Alejandro… it’s just that you’re not a human man.” You sighed softly. “And I-“

“Is it because I don’t have a heart?” Alejandro softly asked you, his cinnamon eyes now dark like the night sky. “I can’t produce semen? Am I not a comfortable temperature? Or does my skin not feel human enough?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Then I can fix it! I will fix it!” Alejandro held your hands firmly in his. His eyes filled with determination. “I’m your boyfriend! I will be anything you want me to be!”

You just held the android who pulled you into a tight hug. His nose buried into your chest like a lost child. Alejandro then smiled into your skin. He would fix this… he wouldn’t let you abandon him! You made him! You had to take responsibility…

Imagine your horror to come home to see your friend skinned alive as Alejandro held their heart in his hands, the organ still beating from the fresh kill. A big smile on his handsome face.

“I have a heart now! I’ll find all the parts you like and add them in! So please don’t abandon me!”

Just what kind of monster have you created?

“You don’t need some human man to be your match because you have me!” Tears fell down your face when Alejandro tried to wipe your tears away with his bloody hands. “I’m your perfect man, (your name). You made me this way.”

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tonycries · 7 months

Text

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Synopsis. On your knees in front of your boyfriend, it was just an innocent video, right? So why are you hearing his best friend’s voice from behind the screen?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, being recorded, voyeurism, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, mentioned threesome, cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names (babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.5k

A/N. Surprise post. Art by @_3aem on X.

“Smile for the camera, babe.”

You would - if you weren’t choking on his throbbing cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, throaty little gurgles muffled by his leaking tip hitting the back of your throat.

The flashlight was blinding.

Harsh light bouncing off your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes, pupils blown. Chest rising and falling erratically, hungry gaze locked on the way you gag and moan around his dick. “Mmm yeah- oh fuck yeah, deeper. Milk me dry, babe. Look s’pretty on film.”

Strangled praises only spurring you to obey mindlessly, you relax your throat - shoving his pulsing dick deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. Your nose pressing into the tufts of hair on his pelvis, wet with precum and spit. Too cock-drunk to think too hard about the rustling from the screen.

Precum salty on your tongue, you flick his sensitive slit in a way that makes him throw his head back - phone unsteady in one hand, the other searing on your scalp. Breath hitching, he bobs your head in increasingly urgent movements - up, up, up. Desperate, jerky thrusts of his hips like he’s trying to fuck something delicious out for you.

Your boyfriend's knuckles are white on his phone. Deliriously, you wonder why the fuck he even bothered with the video at this point - too shaky, too impatient.

Almost as if he could read your mind, a low whisper rings in your ear, breath hot on your face. “Don’ worry about that, babe.”, zooming in on your swollen, glossy lips. “Jus’ focus on what you’re doing like the filthy slut you are.”

Feeding off the electricity crackling in the air, you tighten the hands massaging his tight balls. Pressing right between them in the way you knew drove him crazy.

You squeal - as much as you can with his throbbing erection lodged in your throat - nails digging into his hips as they tremble and buck into your plush mouth. “Ah! Oh fuck- Hngh- Baby, m’gonna m’gonna-”

His words turn into breathy moans, signaling the beginning of the end. With a final thrust, he explodes in thick ropes of cum that paint your mouth white. You struggle to swallow the hot spurts of seed quickly enough, coughing around his twitching cock. Cum spilling out of your bruised lips, specks splattering onto the back of his phone.

Tears stinging your eyes, but you still refuse to break eye contact - batting your lashes innocently at him as you milk his cock for everything he’s worth.

Chest heaving, lust-drunk words tumble out of his lips, “S’perfect. Look at her hah- look how fucking pretty she swallows my cum.”

Words you’re slowly realizing aren’t meant for you.

Heart dropping straight to your dripping cunt, eyes widening as it strikes you - this fucker was on video call.

Now, he didn’t mean to trick you. He really did feel so awful about it - but watching the way his pretty girl’s lips stretched so sinfully around his cock - he really couldn’t bear to be stingy enough to hide it.

Which is why, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his lips, he pats your hair soothingly as you sputter. “Now now. We’re not done yet. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t give my buddy a front row seat to you creaming on my cock?”

Humiliation mingling with something carnal inside you, you freeze in shock as an awfully familiar voice chuckles from the phone. “C’mon now, sweetheart. I bet you’ll cum faster with an audience.”

Thighs squeezing together. Heat rushing to your cheeks. Shit. Maybe you will.

And for all the dark confidence on your boyfriend's face, you relish in the breathless gasp escaping him as you stand. Knees stinging where you straddle his hips - still-hard cock glistening with cum and saliva, leaking onto his toned abdomen.

Surprise flickers across his face, swiftly replaced by a predatory excitement echoed by the appreciative groan from his best friend.

“Well, might as well put on a show, huh?”

And with that, you sink down completely onto his still-sensitive length, groaning at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, heavy balls pressing into your ass. Tears clinging to your lashes at the delicious stretch, you don’t give yourself time to adjust to his thick cock, grinding in feral, mindless motions with reckless abandon.

One hand has a bruising grip on your hips, steadying your rhythm as he thrusts up into you at an unforgiving pace matching yours. The other, angled just right to capture your dripping, wet hole stretched so shamefully on his throbbing dick.

“That’s right, show him that perfect view. Goddamn. Imagine how jealous he is- fucking his fist just wishing that was you.”

“Sh-shit. She jus’ got wetter. Looks s’good with her pretty pussy stuffed.” Low groans spill from his phone, making you buck \wildly into his twitching cock.

White-hot ropes of pleasure run down your spine at the lewd squelches sounding from the speaker - your boyfriend’s best friend not even trying to hide his desperate chase for pleasure.

Balls stinging your ass at the merciless cadence, it’s all you can do to brokenly stammer out “Sh-show.”

A moment fumbling to switch the camera and you wince as the light hits your eyes. A jolt going down your body at his best friend’s disheveled state.

Greedy gaze flickering between your boyfriend - brows furrowed and bottom lip under his teeth as he focused on fucking your snug cunt - and his best friend on the screen - hungry gaze locked on you and thumb mercilessly teasing his leaking tip. Veiny hand moving up and down. Up and down up and-

“Shit, baby. You’re hah- clenching down on me so hard, like being watched, hm?” a dangerous murmur. You whine mindlessly in agreement, mixing with the relentless slapping of skin as you fuck yourself deeper and deeper onto his heated cock.

“Hngh- M’getting so fucking hard just watching her drunk on your cock. Look s’good split open on it.”

“Yeah? She’d probably look better split open on two. Maybe we should let you join in next time. Would you like that, babe? My little cockslut?”

You jolt as you’re finally addressed as the men spoke over you as if you were nothing more than an object. A carnal, ugly part of you delighting in the way you were so used.

“Oh god, yes.” you pant, words pulling you closer and closer to the edge, head spinning so deliriously. “Wan’ both of you. Wanna feel both of you inside me. I need it.”

Your boyfriend's eyes narrow, pupils dilated with lust as he responds, “Anything for my greedy girl. But for now…” his voice trails off, thrusting deeper into your snug cunt.

Onscreen, his best friend groans, doubling down on the hasty hand moving along his throbbing length. “Fuck, I wish I was there.”

A hum of agreement, “C’mon now. Beg me to fill you up, slut. Make sure our lil’ friend hears how desperate you are.”

“Yes, yes, yes” you chant, lost in the haze of pleasure. “Fill me up, please. Want it dripping out of me.”

At your words, your boyfriend’s pace falters, thrusts becoming erratic and desperate as he approaches his climax - his best friend not far behind, fist flying fervently up and down his glistening length - in tandem with the ruthless cock ramming into you.

“God. Such a good little slut f’us” your boyfriend praises, voice strained with pleasure. “Cum for us, baby. Let us see how much you want it.”

And that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your closed lids, riding out wave after wave of pleasure on your boyfriend’s twitching cock. Finally, he empties inside you with a guttural groan, filling your fluttering walls to the brim with his seed.

So much- there was so much. Seems he was the one that adored having an audience. Though, with the way your pussy is greedily milking his cock, you can’t say you’re far behind.

Your thighs shake in pain and pleasure as his hot cum leaks out of your overfilled pussy, dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks into you like an animal. Over and over and-

With all the strength you can muster, you crack an eye open to glance at the screen - only to catch the heavenly sight of him losing control. Fist faltering on his throbbing erection as with a final, forceful tug he spurts thick ropes of seed. An orgasm so hard that it leaks onto his lap and reaches his chest.

The three of you chasing peak after peak. So sinfully.

Your ears ring, vision spotty as your high finally bates. Spent, you collapse against your boyfriend’s muscled chest, heart hammering wildly against both of your ribs, and cunt still twitching in sensitivity.

Still disoriented and completely fucked out, you almost miss the low murmur from above you. Almost.

“Can’t wait till you’re here to see this in person.”

- GOJO and GETO, TOJI and SHIU, SUNA and Osamu, ATSUMU and SAKUSA, Eren and Armin

A/N. I miss when this song was everywhere.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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emmyrosee · 1 month

Text

They’re loud in the living room.

Hinata, curled happily with a bag of chips on the floor, adjacent to Bokuto and Atsumu sat sprawled out on the couch, while Kiyoomi was as collected as could be on the free cushion, hands folded in his lap with his elbows on his knees as his dark eyes followed the plays on screen. You watch as they cheer and hoot at the saves and spikes, groaning when one team scores and cheering when theirs does.

It’s a scene that you’d love to see over and over again.

It’s also a scene you love to mess the serenity of.

“Sakusa,” you call from your perch in the doorway, and immediately, all heads whip to you. Kiyoomi tenses up, Atsumu sits up straight and Bokuto blinks owlishly, and from the floor, Hinata’s head cocks to the side in interest. “Can you come here for a sec?”

Childishly, the other three men offer him a collective “oooo,” to which your boyfriend scowls at. He quickly gets onto his feet and makes his way into the kitchen with you, panic on his features.

“Is everything okay?” He asks.

You nod, “yes. Can you reach that bowl up there?”

Immediately, Kiyoomi reaches up and grabs the bowl on the high shelf, bringing it down before cradling it to his chest, “I put this bowl here; is that why you’re mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you say simply.

“You called me Sakusa,” he pouts in fear. “You don’t call me sakusa. They do.”

“But that’s your name?”

“Not to you,” he says. “No, no- you call me the utmost feral things you can call someone, yet now you want to be formal, I don’t like that. What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, just give me the bowl,” you say, finding slight amusement at this charade. He winces and slowly passes you the bowl, but when you open your mouth to thank him, he immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a kiss, the bowl pressing between you. You merely giggle as he pulls back to sponge kisses on your face.

“I’m sorry,” he says between kisses. “Tell me what I did wrong.” He follows with another kiss. “I never want to make you mad.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you I love you I love you-“

“Okay!” You giggle. “I know you do!”

“Say it back,” he grumbles.

You roll your eyes and cup his cheeks, making him look at you while you press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you. I promise I’m not mad.”

“You’re not? You’re sure?”

“I was messing with you, my love,” you snort. Then, you nod towards the door, “you guys can’t be the only ones having fun tonight. I have to keep you on your toes.” You gently poke his stomach, grinning as he yelps and moves away. When your eyes flick to the doorway, there’s three curious heads watching the scene unfold. Two of them watch happily- the blonde one looks more than mischievous as he absorbs this new level of blackmail.

You smile and kiss his cheek, “go, watch your game with the boys. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

“Okay,” he sighs, voice much lighter than moments before. You watch as all three heads dash from the doorway to go back to the couch, swift to avoid Kiyoomi’s wrath. “I love you.” He takes a step back, “love you. I love you!” He makes his way to the threshold, “I love you!”

“I love you too,” you chuckle back.

“I love you twice as much!”

“GOD, YOU HAVE GUESTS OVER!” Atsumu gags.

“You’re just bitter because you can’t get a text back,” Kiyoomi hisses, and you can’t help but laugh at the switch from baby voice to stern, firm voice. He flashes you a wink before making his way back to the couch, and when you peek out at the furniture again, he’s in a headlock by Bokuto, his hair being ruffled in a way you know he’s going to complain about later.

Half heartedly, of course.

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eupheme · 6 days

Text

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp.

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower.

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest.

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening.

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey.

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is.

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did.

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder.

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.

It will be nice to be able to take your time.

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too.

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek.

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation.

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past.

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life.

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra.

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish.

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good."

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist.

Threats and promises to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom.

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned.

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work.

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together.

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open.

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth.

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you.

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open.

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor.

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look.

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together.

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower.

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin.

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table.

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine.

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.”

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.”

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you.

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you.

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip.

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering.

“‘m gonna-�� It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us.

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly.

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades.

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus.

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on.

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up.

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down.

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you.

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat.

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel.

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?”

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest.

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?”

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest.

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks.

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep.

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart.

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips.

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear.

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back.

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back.

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter.

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under.

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you.

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over.

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you.

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning.

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do.

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk.

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows.

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise.

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again.

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together.

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely.

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips.

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing.

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter.

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time.

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open.

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again.

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this.

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass.

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him.

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s.

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something.

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks.

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase.

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider.

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

#gif credit to the talented ayo-edebiri #wolverine x reader x deadpool #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x reader x wade wilson #logan howlett smut #wade wilson smut #logan howlett

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