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#ending this here before I get SO out of hand.
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God's TV- DC x DP prompt
Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.
So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.
Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.
It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.
No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.
It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.
A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.
Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.
"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.
While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.
Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.
"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.
"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.
Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.
"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.
Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.
Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.
"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.
"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.
"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.
The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.
It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.
Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.
"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.
"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.
"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.
"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.
"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."
"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.
"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."
"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"
"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.
"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.
"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.
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criminalamnesia · 3 days
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Traitor part 8
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.
let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3
thank you again!
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after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.
it never ends, does it?
apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.
it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.
you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.
you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.
your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.
it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“hello?” you say as you answer the call.
“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”
you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”
you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.
“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.
she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”
you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.
why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?
your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.
laswell is coming here to do damage control.
you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.
you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.
but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?
you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.
and when you start something, you see it through.
you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.
price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.
“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”
“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.
“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.
“whatever she told you—”
“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”
price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.
“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”
“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.
“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.
“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.
and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.
you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.
like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.
on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.
in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.
when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.
it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.
it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.
and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.
what they condemned you to.
what he condemned you to.
he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.
price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.
“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.
“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.
he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.
instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.
“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.
“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.
and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.
but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?
you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.
more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.
blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.
you would’ve thrown it away anyways.
you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.
his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.
you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.
“done?”
and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.
it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.
because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.
and yet he didn’t stop you.
“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.
he shrugs. “you needed it.”
he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.
“least I could do,” he says.
you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?
“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.
maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.
“no,” he says, and you know he means it.
he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.
he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”
that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.
and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.
“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.
the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.
“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.
“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.
“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”
you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.
“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.
he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”
“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”
you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.
“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.
“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”
you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”
his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.
those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.
you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.
their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.
“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”
you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”
finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”
you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”
none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.
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a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.
you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.
the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.
none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.
(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)
the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.
you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.
you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.
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you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.
“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”
you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.
you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.
you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.
you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.
nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.
your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.
how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?
you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.
the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.
a new beginning, you think.
you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.
the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.
eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.
who else knows you’re here?
perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.
you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.
its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.
a new beginning indeed.
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gojoest · 2 days
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FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru
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girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!
satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well
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“come on, my life — say it”
satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—
“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.
this has been going on for the past few weeks.
your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.
“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”
lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”
okay, you shrugged and backed off.
and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.
after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)
but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.
it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...
all of a sudden,
the doorbell rings.
“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.
it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.
“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.
“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…
…at nanami.
a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…
she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.
she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—
“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.
silence in the kitchen befalls.
you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.
“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”
p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.
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xo100 · 23 hours
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Coming home - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’
*:・゚ Word count: 2214
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୨ৎ
It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.
“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.
She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.
-
It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.
At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.
“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.
Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.
“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”
It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.
“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”
Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.
He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.
“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”
Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.
A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.
After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.
Then, finally, she called him.
Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.
“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.
“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”
There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”
“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.
“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”
Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”
There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”
“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”
“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”
“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.
He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”
-
The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.
Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.
“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.
He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.
She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.
“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”
She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”
Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”
She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.
He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.
“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”
She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.
Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”
-
The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.
“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”
He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”
By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.
“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.
She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.
Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.
“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”
Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”
They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”
She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.
Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.
With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.
“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”
She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.
“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”
She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.
Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.
He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”
And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.
She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!
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A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.
When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.
It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.
Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?
Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.
It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.
I stabbed him with his own pencil.
I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)
That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?
The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.
This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”
I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.
By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.
I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.
All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”
“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”
Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.
Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”
My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.
After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.
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sinner-as-saint · 1 day
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here forever
Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 
Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)
a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry
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It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 
It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 
You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 
Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 
But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 
‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’
Seconds later: 
‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 
Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 
‘Go straight home.’ 
‘Is your class over?’ 
‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 
‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 
And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 
But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 
It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 
And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 
And here you were now. 
In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 
Fuck! You had messed up. 
You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 
He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 
A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 
They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 
And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 
Bucky was here. 
But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 
You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 
They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 
Perfect. 
By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 
So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 
A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 
Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 
Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 
You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 
But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 
A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 
The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 
A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 
But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 
An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 
You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 
You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 
The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 
“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 
You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 
That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 
“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 
You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 
He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 
You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 
Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 
“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 
“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 
More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 
He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 
Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 
He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 
Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 
And that was all he said for the next few hours. 
– 
By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 
Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 
It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 
You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 
He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 
You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 
When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 
But where had Bucky gone? 
You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 
You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 
Then he disappeared. 
You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 
You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 
You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 
“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 
You shook your head. 
“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 
You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 
He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 
You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 
But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 
It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 
You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 
The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 
Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 
You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 
But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 
Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 
You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 
First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 
You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 
“I know you’re awake.” 
You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 
“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 
You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 
He hummed. “It better not.” 
You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 
“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 
You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 
“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 
You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 
Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 
Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 
His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 
Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 
You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 
“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 
All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 
“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 
Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 
“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 
You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 
Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 
The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 
It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 
He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”
You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 
“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 
You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.
The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 
His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 
“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 
Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 
“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 
You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 
“Good girl.” 
And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 
Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 
You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 
You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 
He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 
Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 
Your heart throbbed and pinched.  
He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 
You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 
“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 
“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 
He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 
You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 
Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 
You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 
He wasn’t.
706 notes · View notes
seventeenpins · 3 days
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new rules
pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅
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You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.
DO NOT PICK UP
You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.
And then it lights up again.
Just ignore it. Just ignore it.
As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.
It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 
But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–
And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.
“Hi, baby-”
Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.
“Hi Logan.”
“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 
“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”
“But you answered.” 
Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.
“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”
It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.
"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.
“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”
You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.
“What do you want, Logan?”
He takes a deep breath.
“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”
“No.”
“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”
You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.
It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.
“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.
“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”
He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”
You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.
Is this really living?
“Fine. You can come over.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”
With a snort, he ends the call.
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He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 
With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.
He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.
When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 
Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.
It sends a shiver down your spine.
You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 
You need to gain some control back.
“Condom,” you tell him. 
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”
He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.
Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 
In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.
“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.
“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”
“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”
“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”
“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”
You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.
“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”
“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.
You groan, and he laughs.
You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 
The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.
But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 
You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-
He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.
After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.
For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.
But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.
“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”
Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.
“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”
He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 
He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.
“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”
You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.
“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-
“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 
“Fuck you, Logan.”
“Use your words.”
“Yes-”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”
You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.
It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.
He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 
As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.
He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 
You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.
At least you got those tide pens. 
You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.
You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.
—-
You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.
You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.
Back to this-
"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.
"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 
You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”
"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 
He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.
This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.
You leave the room.
A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.
"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”
He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.
"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.
You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”
He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.
You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.
A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.
"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”
Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.
You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.
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You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.
And then one night you get a text. 
He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.
DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video
With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.
You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.
Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–
It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.
It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.
There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.
This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.
You hit play. 
At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.
“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”
AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.
Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 
A moment later, the text comes through.
“Ready for you, princess.”
God, if only it would take more than that.
As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 
You’re at his house an hour later. 
You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 
You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.
And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.
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632 notes · View notes
svtiddiess · 1 day
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Thot Hour
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Synopsis: You're supposed to be mad at Mingyu, but how can you when he's looking so delicious working out…wearing only his boxers?
Pairing: Mingyu x afab!reader
Genre: smut, one shot, established relationship
Rating: mature
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: pet names (baby, puppy), unprotected sex (don't do this!), penetrative sex, overstimulation, sub!Gyu, thigh riding, creampie, jealous reader, biting, Mingyu in Calvin Klein boxers (yes, that needs a warning), jealous reader, kinda mean dom! reader, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This was inspired by a dream I had. Guess which part I dreamt of.
Big love to @tomodachiii and @tusswrites for helping me with the plot and beta reading!
Click here to join my taglist!
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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"Baby, I said I was sorry."
You could hear the desperation in his voice as he apologised for the umpteenth time today. He stands before you, placing your hands against his chest, whipping out the puppy eyes. You'd fall for it in any other instance, but today, when you're this annoyed, nothing works.
"Baby, I told you what I did was just fan service. They don't mean anything. You're the only one I have feelings for," you hear him almost whine as he pouts at you.
Yes, that's what you're pissed about: him giving fan service. You may seem petty, but you have valid reasons for getting upset. You don't mind him giving fan service; it's part of the job. But lately, it seems as if he's giving a bit too much fan service.
Several moments of his fan service have gone viral, littering your feed with constant comments from fans stating how he's the perfect man. And he is, but just not at the moment. Not even when he looks down at you with his precious big eyes blinking at you, resembling a puppy. If you stared hard enough, you could swear his ears had drooped a bit, lips pursued in a pout that seemed to dissolve your anger.
Stay strong; you have to prove your point.
Huffing, you snatch your hands back from his, afraid you'll cave in if you stare for even a second longer. He lets out a defeated sigh, walking away, leaving you to brood alone.
Several minutes pass, with you wallowing in your self-pity before you are interrupted by the sound of grunting. Straining your ears, you catch on to the louder grunts and huffs from the other room. Shifting your eyes to the nearby clock, you stare at the time and widen in realisation.
It's 6 pm.
6 pm is Mingyu's usual workout time, infamously known as Thot Hour. Why, you ask? Well, it's the time of day when you sit back, relax, and shamelessly ogle at your beefy boyfriend working out. If you're lucky enough, he might end his workout with cardio, which involves you between his legs.
Losing the silent debate in your head, you make the right decision to go and watch him work out; just cause you're mad at him doesn't mean you're not allowed to appreciate eye candy. You will not let the fangirls take this away from you.
You enter the home gym that Mingyu has slowly built over the years, jaw-dropping at the sight. There he is, your boyfriend, Kim Mingyu, working out in nothing but his Calvin Klein boxers.
"What are you doing?" You ask, clearly not expecting the sight in front of you.
He sets down his weights with a grunt and then looks at you with a straight face.
"Working out," he deadpans as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"In just your boxers?" you ask, waving hands around his body to emphasise your point.
"It's a hot day today," he shrugs casually, but you can see him fighting off a smirk.
Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch.
You scoff and turn around to take your prime seat to watch him work out; you will not let him win. You pull out your phone, purposefully ignoring him (or trying to, at least). Upon noticing this, Mingyu grunts and moans even louder, trying to win your attention. And while you try your best to ignore his obnoxious sounds, you can't help but get a peek at him from your peripheral vision.
Ooh, you're drooling on sight. His muscles contract and relax every time he moves. His head's thrown back; his eyes scrunched up in concentration while his already big muscles visibly get even bigger due to the pump. Your eyes are drawn to the sweat dripping down his almost naked sculpted body and the prominent bulge straining against his boxers.
Fuck, he looks so juicy.
Your boyfriend was big everywhere, and he prides himself on it whenever he splits you open. His bulge looks so big, and he's not even fully hard yet. Gulping hard, when you notice a small wet patch on his boxers. Too bad he notices you staring and smirks.
"Like what you see, baby?" He asks with a cocky cadence to his voice.
You quickly snap out of it and scoff, remembering you're supposed to be angry at him. You go back to staring at your phone, making him chuckle. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face so bad.
Then it hits you: the perfect revenge plan. You smirk to yourself as you put away your phone and start stripping down to your underwear as well.
Two can play that game, Kim Mingyu.
He's halfway through his set when he notices you. He drops the weights and turns to look at you, visibly confused.
"What're you doing, baby?"
"Like you said, it's a hot day," you shrug, mirroring his actions from earlier.
He looks with intensity as you move to unroll a yoga mat. You smirk to yourself when you hear him groan when you begin stretching and purposely manoeuvring your body into tempting yoga poses. From the corner of your eye, you can see Mingyu get more and more riled up as the poses get more and more provocative. You hear him whine by the time you’re doing t the 'Cat-Cow' pose, your ass facing him. You shift to face him with a cocky smirk on your face.
"Why're you whining, Gyu?"
"I can't focus if you act like this baby," he whines.
"Like what?"
"You know what," he huffs and pouts like a child.
You shrug, then go back to doing more poses. You see him approach you with a permanent pout plastered on his face. He crouches down to your level and tries to touch you, but you quickly swat his hand away.
"Thought you were working out?"
"Baby, please," he whines, and you can almost taste the desperation in his words. This is fuelling your ego a bit too much.
"I need your help; it's becoming too painful," he strains, and you look down at his now fully hard bulge. It was huge and had you salivating, but you can't give in, not yet, at least. Not when your pettiness from earlier sets in.
"Go ask your fangirls for help," you huff and scoot away from him, sitting down on the mat.
He shifts to kneel in front of you. "Please, baby. I'm sorry. I'm yours and only yours. I promise I won't act out of line ever again. Please, please, please just touch me. It hurts so bad, baby, please," he's full-on begging at this point, and you're sure you can see tears pricking the corner of his eyes.
Something about a 6-foot-something man kneeling in front of you and begging for you to touch him makes you feel powerful. You smirk, knowing you have Mingyu exactly where you want him, desperate and needy in front of you. If he's going to act out of line, then you'll just have to put him in his place.
"You want me to touch you, Gyu?" You tilt your head and pout in faux sympathy.
"Please," he whispers, voice straining as he tries his best not to cry.
"Sit down."
You stand up, giving Mingyu room to sit on the yoga mat. He sits down with his legs outstretched on the mat. Shifting above him, you move to sit on one of his thick thighs, almost moaning at the contact.
"You're gonna sit here and take whatever I give you like a good puppy; if I catch you touching me, I won't let you finish. Okay?"
He nods frantically, desperate for anything at this point. Slowly, you start grinding against his thigh, moaning his name and holding onto his shoulders for support. He moans at the feeling of his thigh slowly getting more and more coated in your arousal. He throws his head back and grips onto the yoga mat below to prevent himself from touching you.
You lean forward and start leaving bite marks on his neck and shoulders. You make sure to bite down extra hard in places that would be visible even if he was wearing a shirt. He whimpers and groans at the feeling of your teeth digging into his skin.
"Mine," you mumble against his skin.
"Yours, only yours," he whimpers, body straining to keep still.
You start grinding on his thigh faster, determined to reach your high; Mingyu notices this and flexes his thigh, giving you more stimulation. You pant and whine out his name, getting close to the edge.
"Fuck, please cum. Cum all over my thigh, please," Mingyu whines out desperately, tipping you over the edge.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, making him hiss as you cum all over his thigh, your arousal drenching the bare skin. Resting your head against his shoulder, you take a minute to catch your breath.
"Baby, please, need you so bad. It hurts too much," he whimpers.
You look down and notice the wet patch on his boxers got bigger. You snake your hands down and cup his bulge, making him hiss.
"Yeah? It hurts?" You whisper whilst grinding your hand against his bulge, making him moan out and nod frantically.
"Please, I can't take it anymore," he whines, tears escaping his eyes.
"I don't know, Gyu; I don't think you earned it," you hum in faux pity, jutting your lips in consideration.
"No, no! Please, I'm begging you. I can't take it anymore," he cries out, desperately bucking into your hand.
"Why don't you ask your fangirls, huh? Since you seem to be more desperate to please them than me," you mock, squeezing him hard, causing him to let out a desperate sob.
"No! No, please! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! It's only you that I want. I'll be good. I promise!" He cries out, distraught clear in his eyes, with tears now streaming down his face. You can see him try so hard to restrain himself from touching you.
You smirk with satisfaction as you watch your big, beefy boyfriend break under you. You remove your hand from his bulge and move it to wipe his tears from his face.
"Oh, you poor thing," you coo, "How badly does it hurt baby?"
"It hurts so bad," he sniffs, "I need you so badly, please."
"I don't know," you hum and move to get off his lap, "You've been a bad puppy lately, and you know bad puppies get punished, right?"
His eyes widen, and his hands fly to grab your hips to prevent you from moving away from him.
"No, no, no!" He begs, "Please, don't leave! Please!" Tugging you back onto his thigh, he pleads, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll be good! I'll be a good puppy! I swear!"
"What did I say about touching me?" You tch, and his mouth falls open in realisation, and he quickly retracts his hands as if he's burned you.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, please. Forgive me, please." He whimpers.
You shake your head and sigh. "I did warn you, Gyu," you sigh and stand up.
In an act of desperation, he manhandles you back onto the mat, making you lie on it. You let out a squeak as your back hits the mat.
"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he murmurs before smashing his lips onto yours into a messy and desperate kiss. You kiss back with equal fervour, tangling your fingers in his permed hair. He starts grinding against you like a bitch in heat, letting out small whimpers and pants between the kisses.
He separates from you and quickly discards whatever remaining clothing the both of you have, throwing it to god knows where. You look down at his cock; it's thick and angry, with beads of precum dripping down it. Spreading your thighs, he aligns his tip against your entrance and starts slowly pushing in. You gasp and grab onto his shoulders; no matter how many times he fucks you, you can never get used to his huge size.
"I don't think I can go slow," he rasps. He's not even halfway in, and you already feel so full. Without warning, he slams the rest of him into you, causing you to scream out his name so loud you're sure the neighbours heard you. Your eyes roll to the back when you feel his tip kiss your cervix.
His thrusts are sloppy and erratic. Neither of you are thinking straight anymore. Your thoughts are only filled with how big he is and how good it feels being split open on his cock whilst his own thoughts are only filled with how warm you feel and how you're perfectly wrapped around him.
"S-Shit, I'm cumming," he pants out. He cums whilst moaning out your name, filling you up to the brim with his seeds. He chokes back a whine, but he doesn't stop thrusting. He snakes his hand down to your clit and starts rubbing it in circles, desperate to make you cum as well.
"Please, cum. Please cum all over me," he whines out, body shaking from overstimulation. After a few more thrusts, you cum, hard, convulsing around him. He pants and whines as you squeeze around him. After a few more clumsy thrusts, he collapses onto you.
"Gyu! You're heavy!" You whine.
"But you're so cuddly and warm," he says breathlessly as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you, making you grumble.
"Are you still mad at me?" He looks at you with a pout.
You grin an easy smile, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing him, causing him to groan reflexively.
"I don't know. Maybe you should fuck me again just to be sure."
494 notes · View notes
jinwoosungs · 2 days
Text
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09/23/24; 01:32pm
{ 18+ headcanons / drabbles }
[ the things they say to try and keep you ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
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you were getting tired of this constant back and forth relationship you had with sylus, where getting a true reading on sylus and how he was feeling was forcing you to walk on damn near eggshells around him.
despite how you had a cordial relationship with him, it was completely different when night came. despite never once moving in and sharing a living space with him, that didn't stop sylus from visiting you.
his arrival would always be at the most inopportune time as well, usually when you came straight out of a shower. before you could even fully wrap the plush towel around your naked body, sylus would suddenly appear beside you, his hot mouth pressing heated kisses behind your ear.
"s-sylus?" you bite back a moan, feeling the way his teeth lightly nips at the sensitive skin of your neck. he ends up licking away the stray droplets of water that remains against your skin, letting out a soft groan of your name all while pushing his large hand up against your damp towel.
"ssh, work has gotten... pretty taxing lately, and i need you." dear gods, when you hear his husky voice whispering within your ear, oozing seduction while tasting as decadent and sinful as chocolate, you felt your knees tremble beneath him.
his erection was felt pressed up against your backside, making a familiar ache appear between your legs. needing to kiss him, you turn your head to press your lips against his in a searing kiss. you nearly fell against your linoleum floors the moment sylus pressed the palm of his hand against your naked cunt, shamelessly collecting the moisture against his calloused skin with a grunt.
with his lips never once leaving your neck, he continues pressing heated kisses against your skin all while sliding a single finger within your slick heat. the sensation of it all was enough to make you melt for him, your moans echoing throughout the bathroom. the squelching sounds that comes out as evidence to your neediness fills at the air, making the onslaught of pleasure you felt become all the more sweeter in response.
you were so close, and just as your pussy gripped at sylus's fingers in a vice grip, the insufferable man ends up removing his thick digits from it. the sudden loss of him was what makes you let out a string of curses, feeling sylus turn you around before setting you on top of your counter.
a smirk paints his ridiculously devastating face, and you were left breathing heavily when sylus slides the plush towel off of your body. goosebumps end up appearing all across your skin as sylus takes off the belt that hold the waistband of his pants in place. he pulls it down just enough to release his hardened cock from the confines of his boxers, its tip an angry shade of red as beads of precum was seen coming from it.
with a few strokes, sylus presses his cock against your entrance, earning a moan from you. he teases you for a few seconds, sliding the tip of his dick around your pussy lips before licking at his lips.
what he does next makes you do a double take, watching as he removes his phone from the pocket of his suit before setting a timer that counts down from the 3 minute mark. setting off the timer to the side, sylus grips at the fat of your thighs before telling you with a smirk, “if i can make you cum in less than three minutes, you’re mine.”
no other warning was given to you when the onychinus leader was felt completely sheathing his cock deep inside of you. your voice echoes throughout the bathroom, with your hands clawing at sylus's back the moment he continues to pound harshly inside of you.
you had been with a few other men here and there before in your life, but never one who was quite like sylus. even as he continues his relentless pounding against your cunt, you swore that you could feel him pressed up against your throat. the hedonistic sensations of it all was enough to make your head spin, feeling the way his veins seemed to pulsate eagerly as his shaft was buried so sweetly deep inside of you.
and despite your best efforts to hold off on climaxing against him, you lost all of your senses as you felt that familiar snap within your abdomen, making you spill your juices against sylus's still hardened cock.
with a grunt of your name, sylus looks down at the way your walls seemed to clench around the tip of his cock, seeing a clear fluid reach down the base of it before looking at his phone. a smug expression paints his features, and he reaches over to show you his phone. "you came within 2 minutes... heh, looks like you're mine after all."
your mind was in a haze, trying to comprehend what had just happened, "what?"
"tch, no complaints, sweetheart." lifting up both of your legs, he tosses them both over his shoulders before proceeding to pound into you once more, "a deal's a deal; you're mine now."
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when zayne had invited you into his office for a 'regular checkup'-
this was not what you were expecting.
it was late at night, nearing 3am when your good friend and doctor, zayne, suddenly calls you, alerting you of how he had to see you. detecting the worry in his voice, you head over to akso hospital almost immediately.
after taking the elevators to his floor, you meet with zayne in his office, watching him as his pristine demeanor morphs into something a bit more... casual-
sensual, even.
his usually perfectly styled, ebony locks of hair appeared mussed, like he had spent a considerable amount of time running his fingers through them. along with his tousled hair, you noticed how his dress shirt had a few of the top buttons unbuttoned, giving you a brief view of his chest.
his voice takes on an almost husky quality, saying your name before leading you toward the examination seat. he coaxes you to lay down against it, "zayne, what is this?"
zayne gives you a familiar, kind smile, "you've been long overdue for a routine check up, right? so i figured i could help you out with that."
"yes, but, i have my own doctor i could go to-"
"nonsense." zayne brushes off your words, already grabbing his stethoscope as he makes his way over to you. "now, just take deep, even breaths for me."
you nod, simply remaining still as zayne began his physical examination on you. grasping at the fabric of your blouse, he gently unbuttons it, revealing the soft material of your bra. you nearly jump when he places the flat end of his stethoscope against your chest, listening to your rapidly beating heart.
"hm, your heart... it's racing. are you nervous?" zayne trails his stethoscope across your skin, taking note of the goosebumps seen erupting. "interesting..."
your breathing becomes labored, watching as zayne sets aside his stethoscope. he suddenly leans closer to you, pressing his hands between your thighs, "so tell me, are you sexually active currently?"
feeling your mouth turn dry upon hearing his question, you felt your heart skip its beats before shakily telling him, "w-why do you need to know?"
"i'm a doctor, and it's important to me that you maintain your health, especially if you're sexually active."
you could feel the heat against your cheeks, a wave of embarrassment coursing through you when you shake your head and admit to him. "n-no, i'm only active when i'm in a relationship..."
zayne lets out a gentle (yet approving) hum. "good... now... on to the next part."
suddenly, zayne frames at your face, his expression filled with longing, before crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that takes your very breath away. unable to hide your feelings for him much longer, you kiss him back with just as much fervor.
gone were all thoughts of coherency, for all you wanted was himhimhimhim...!
in the midst of your passions, zayne had managed to take off all of your clothes along with his, throwing the crumpled fabric in a pile near the back of the room. he keeps your body against the bed, spreading your legs with both of his arms while slotting the side of his cock beneath your entrance.
his voice was hoarse, filled with need for you when he tells you, “if i can make you spill yourself all over me, then you’ll belong to me alone.”
your mouth was open, ready to tell him that you would have belonged to him either way when zayne suddenly thrusts himself into you. stars immediately fill your vision as the red hot pleasure seemed to course through your veins.
with your name coming from zayne's lips in broken syllables, you could feel your arousal getting stronger, watching as such a perfect doctor was falling apart-
all because of you.
"i-i never believed i could feel so strongly about you... you came into my life when i needed you the most." zayne tells you with a gasp, still moving his hips rapidly in and out of you all while pressing lingering kisses against your hand. "you're mine... and if i can just-"
an intense look of concentration was seen on zayne's face, and when he manages to angle his cock ever so slightly inside of you, you felt the way your pleasure seemed to intensify. words left you, and your moans were the last thing zayne could hear when you felt somethin snap deep within you, making a gush of fluid travel down his cock.
you listen as zayne lets out a broken groan, stilling his hips before releasing everything he had inside of you. the overwhelming sensation of your walls spilling all of its juices against zayne's cock takes your very breath away, leaving you in a haze. just as you were about to let the exhaustion take over, you could feel the way your new lover presses kisses against the side of your neck, murmuring a single phrase like a never-ending mantra:
"you're mine... you're finally mine."
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xavier had simply invited you over to have a movie night with him. he knew all about the stress you felt when it came to your university work, and he wanted to do something to help you with relieving it.
at first, you thought he was referring to the arrangement you had set up with him-
the friends with benefits type of arrangement where you could help each other destress in the most pleasurable of ways.
with you helping xavier blow off steam after his work as a hunter-
and you letting out your frustrations from college.
upon entering his apartment, you had already planned to shed your clothes, but he holds up a hand to stop you. "no, we're not doing anything like that... i just wanted to help you relax... literally.”
you give him a wide grin, "is that so? so, you seriously don't want-"
the way xavier looks away from you, yet still shakes his head in mere seconds, makes you feel a bit suspicious. "no, i don't. lets just relax together. i even ordered something for us to enjoy tonight."
not wishing to question him, you enter his apartment, feeling your eyes go wide upon seeing the spread of your favorite takeout on his coffee table. "no way! you ordered all of this for me?"
xavier simply gives you a sheepish smile. "yeah, i figured you needed something like this after your brutal midterms. come on, let's dig in. i'll put on something for us to watch."
staying true to his words, xavier allows you to enjoy your evening, all while spoiling you with all of your favorite foods. as you both ate your dinner in silence, you looked at the movie playing on the screen, but wasn't really paying attention to it. throughout the night, you saw the way xavier kept sneaking glances at you all while seeming to inch his body closer to yours.
by the end of the second movie, you couldn't ignore xavier's proximity and decided to play a little game with him.
"hey, xavier?"
he was currently flipping through the movies on the television screen, "yeah?"
you shake your head and take away the remote, turning off the tv as xavier gives you a questioning glance. "i think i've had my fill of movies... why don't we play a little game?"
"okay, what's the game?"
you give xavier an innocent smile before climbing on top of his lap. watching his eyes go wide before a blush dyes his cheeks makes you give him a victorious smile. "it's a simple game, really... we'll take turns touching each other, teasing the other party's weak spot, and whoever moans first loses."
his once sapphire eyes were now eclipsed by darkness, serving as evidence of his lust for you. with a grunt of your name, xavier places both hands against your waist. "okay, if you win...?"
"then you have to take me to the amusement park next weekend and pay for everything, tickets and all." you giggle, teasingly wrapping your arms around xavier's neck. "and if you win...?"
xavier meets your gaze, eyes filled with determination, "if i win, then i get to keep you as mine- we'll be exclusive."
his words manages to catch you off guard, making it easier for him to pin you against his sofa within mere seconds. a look of hunger graces his handsome features when he spreads your legs, gently unbuttoning the button of your shorts before sliding them off of you. you were left in your panties, jumping when you felt xavier pressing his finger against your clothed heat.
"n-no fair! you're cheating-" your protests end up breaking off in a moan, feeling the way xavier slides down your panties with his teeth alone. once you could feel the cold air hitting at your aching core, you swore that the moisture was felt nearly flooding out of you the moment xavier places his hot mouth over your cunt.
his tongue works on tasting every inch of you, drinking up all you had to offer as your hands automatically delve into his hair. your moans were all that were heard echoing throughout the living room. when you could feel xavier's smirk against your pussy lips, you gave his hair a sharp tug, his groans sending pleasant vibrations throughout your entire body.
using his extensive knowledge of your body, he plays it like an instrument, eliciting gasps and sighs of his name at the right moment without fail. and when he became so needy for you, he manages to stop eating you out like a man starved, replacing the spot where his mouth had once been with his cock.
you were quickly losing your mind now, letting out cries of his name when he sits back on the couch, forcing you to bounce up and down his cock all while weakly glaring at him. "n-no fair, you were totally c-cheating!"
xavier ends up smiling, all while watching you taking him in with such expert precision, “what can i say? i don’t play fair when it comes to you… especially when it comes to finally having you.”
upon finishing his statement, he places one of your perky nipples in his mouth while simply enjoying the show, wanting nothing more than to see you lose control all while claiming you as his-
forever.
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when you accepted rafayel's confession, allowing him to claim you as his sole girlfriend, he was afraid that you didn't understand just how serious he was when it came to you.
he recalls his first meeting with you as being something serendipitous; one where he caught the eye of a pretty girl while exploring the museum together.
the young artist saw how you were all alone then decided to keep you company. of course, his act of kindness was simply a means to keep you safe and away from any potential males who could cause you discomfort. yes, all he wanted to do was to give you a peaceful experience-
yet what he wasn't planning on was falling head over heels for you, the lumerian's heart somehow resuming its once silent beats as it came back to life the moment you smiled at him.
of course, he was so happy when you accepted his confession-
but now, it was time to show you that you were truly his forever.
getting close to your 6 month anniversary together, rafayel invites you over to his place, already planning a wonderful spread of food filled with the most luxurious of seafood dishes. from king crab legs served with butter to the lobster fettuccine, everything was perfect.
between sips of the sparkling white wine, rafayel simply takes in the sight of you enjoying the meal so happily, his eyes never once straying away from you for too long. once you had your fill, rafayel gently reaches over to you, wiping away the stray sauce that decorates your lips momentarily before kissing you.
the artist swore that he lived for your laughter, hearing the sweet sound coming from your parted lips. unable to hold back his love and adoration for you for much longer, rafayel picks you up from your seat, carrying you like you were his bride before placing you on top of the silk sheets of his bed.
"rafe?" you call out to him, and he could see the way your expression became flustered when he places himself between your legs. leaning down, he grasps your hands within his larger ones, leaning down to press lingering, butterfly kisses against your features. upon feeling such soft touches, you visibly relax from beneath him, giggling once more.
rafayel smiles against your skin before moving his head back, framing at your face as he met your gaze, "you are by far, the best thing that has ever happened to me. your unconditional love and care for me... has become something i truly cannot live without."
your name escapes from his parted lips in an almost reverent manner. "when i asked you to be mine, i didn't mean this as something that's meant to pass and grow stale with time... i meant this is as the start of forever."
he looks away from you, taking something out of the confines of his dress pants before revealing a tiny velvet box to you. his eyes were glimmering with hope and affection for you, gesturing at you to open it.
you sharply inhale, opening the box to reveal a cute promise ring in the shape of a seashell. in the middle of the shell was your favorite gemstone, and the sight of it was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes. "oh, rafayel... it's beautiful."
his smile was filled with pride the moment he takes the ring out and places against your left ring finger. "a promise, for what's to come... but... if you need more convincing..."
your beloved was felt leaning closer to you now, whispering against your ear, “if i can make you cry out my name, then you are mine to keep forever.” he finishes his statement with a bite against your earlobe-
and you knew that your heart was doomed from the start-
that you never stood a chance when it came to resisting him.
clothes were tossed carelessly aside, as if you were both filled with a hunger to feel each other without any barriers. skin to skin, heart to heart-
like how it has always been when you are with rafayel.
when he settles your body against the bed, all while exploring the sweetness between your legs with his tongue alone, you knew that you were close to losing your mind, your hair pulling against those precious strands of curls. rafayel was insatiable when it came to finally tasting you, almost greedily drinking in all you had to offer as you moved your pulsating core against his face.
only when your desire to have something fill you became too much did rafayel finally relent. letting out a gasp of your name, rafayel pulls you closer to him by grasping at your ankles. he teases your entrance with the mushroom tip of his cock, allowing your sweet arousal to stain at it before gently pushing himself deep inside of you.
your mind felt like it was drunk, eagerly taking in every inch that rafayel had to offer, your breasts bouncing in tune with his thrusts that were quickly becoming fueled by desperation and need for you. and throughout the night, neither one of you wished to stop as you ended up bouncing on top of rafayel with only his name being screamed at the top of your lungs each time you pushed your hips against his, riding him with an equal sense of desperation.
and as you chased your pleasure using rafayel alone, you were unaware of his sly smirk against your skin, for now, you truly belonged to him forever.
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end notes: a thirst post based on the fantasies i've had pertaining to the lads men 🫠 currently unedited, but i'll make changes once this is posted. my laptop is heating up as i write this;;;
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
596 notes · View notes
sunflowersteves · 3 days
Note
um so getting fucked by logan in public place...i mean getting fucked by logan-
(please know the way i'm salivating over this man is downright sinful.)
author's note || babes,,, i feel u. this man is in my dreams 24/7. i lov u for requesting this <3
summary || basically, you defend Logan and he quite literally goes feral.
warnings || fluff, some angst, anti-mutant rhetoric, SMUT [minors dni], P in V sex, praise kink, public-sex, desperation
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Logan was used to being alone. It was second nature for him to blend into a crowd and survey the bustling fullness of the night. Usually, he hightailed to the back of the bar, his eyes studying carefully while he nursed the beer in his hand. 
When Logan met you, though, some things changed a bit. Instead of being at the back of the bar, he usually sat right next to you. While he wasn’t much for PDA and often abstained from it, he still let the hardness of his thigh rest against yours. It was such a simple touch, but you knew how much Logan needed to breathe in your presence. It soothed him. 
Tonight was like any other Friday night. You both wanted to go to the bar for a little bit of fun before another mission killed the atmosphere. Logan usually has a beer in his hand and his other subtly resting against your back. His eyes would bore into yours as he watched you talk about your day. It was always something he looked forward to. The ways that your eyes would sparkle underneath the illuminating bar lights. 
The bar was packed tonight, though. Bodies were practically on top of one another—playing pool, dancing to the stereo, or attempting to chat up someone to take home. Your idea to go to the bar had not just been your own. You could hear Logan’s heartbeat race as someone kept bumping into him—despite the very menacing aura rolling off of him. 
So, in response, you were currently nursing a whiskey all by your lonesome. It wasn’t that you were lonesome, it was much of the opposite. Logan had stepped out of the bar for a quick smoke, wanting to calm the nerves that pricked his skin. Logan needed a breather. He never wanted to leave you by yourself—although he knew you were completely fine. He just didn’t want to. You smiled at him with one of those breathtaking ones that caught his breath. 
“Go. I’ll still be here.” You whispered. God, he loved you. It was so evident, yet the years of having a broken heart shattered his ideas of loving someone again. The pain was etched across his chest, back, organs—everything. Add the number of people surrounding him, caging him in had reached an overwhelming capacity. So, he stepped out toward the back and dragged his cigar across his lips. He let the nicotine softly quiet the aches in his chest. 
You sipped the bitter taste of Jim Beam, your body almost shuddering at the hot feeling of liquor going down your throat. You felt the buzz already—not having much of anything to eat despite Logan asking if you had eaten. He handed you a granola bar in the car. He already knew the answer to his question. During a heated discussion with Scott, you had completely forgotten to eat some lunch. 
Logan was as caring as always—rubbing a hand across your wrist to ask if you had anything to eat today. However, your thoughts of him were screeched to a halt from a presence coming straight toward you. 
“Where’d the big guy go?”
Your eyebrow quirks up at the sensation of a tall silhouette behind you. You didn’t respond, though. You and Logan were used to the comments—usually, fans wanting pictures with the well-known X-men. Those you didn’t mind. Men like these, though? The ones that taunt you for your differences, the ones that make your skin itch.
“C’mon. That mutant scum isn’t here anymore. No need to act so tough.” 
You huffed out of your nose in disgust. There was a sizzle underneath your chest that made you want to scream in anger. You held your ground, though, knowing that it wouldn’t help very much. You knew men like these. Any use of your powers could end up with a call to the police and another article about how “violent” mutants are.
Although, not budging made the stranger even more pissed than he was. “You’re too pretty to be with a beast like him. Didn’t you hear, anyway?” This man just wouldn’t stop fucking talking. “The Wolverine hurts anything he touches. He’s a fuck up. A low life. A fucking animal—” 
Now that comment is what made you turn your head. You had heard enough before you slammed your glass on the bar counter. The man beside you jumped in surprise. A scowl on your lips, nostrils flared. “What the fuck did you just say?” 
Logan’s eyebrows twitched as he heard the snarl in your voice. He burnt out the cigar on his skin—slightly wincing at the sizzle of his skin. Worry surged through his chest at the mere idea of your discomfort. A primal need to protect the thing he loves was fogging his brain. The leather of his jacket was straining against the bulge of his muscles as he sauntered back through the bar. His shoulders were taunted back, surveying the bar as everyone’s head turned to you and some guy. 
His eyes widened at the sight before him. You had bunched the collar of the man, lifting him off the floor. Your eyes were wild with anger, your teeth clenched tightly as you spoke to the stranger. “If you ever talk about the Wolverine like that again, I’m going to cut off your head and feed it to your fucking wife—” The boom of your voice echoed through the bar. It was so silent that a pin could drop. 
You could handle comment after comment thrown at you. That, you knew quite well. However, you knew how Logan actually felt about the comments. They called him an animal. A beast. They forced him into something he was always scared of. Himself. You knew him differently. He was Logan. He would make you a cup of coffee every morning, adding a sprinkle extra of cinnamon that he knew you loved. He left fuzzy blankets in his room after the first time you spent the night with him. You commented how itchy his sheets were and ever since, he silently wraps you up in one with an arm attached to your waist. He would place a protective arm in front of you during missions—always assessing the danger to make sure that you would never get hurt. He was so much more than anything they portrayed him as. He was human and everyone—including the team—sometimes forgets that. 
“Darlin’—” You felt your shoulder visibly relax as his large hand enveloped your soft skin. “They’re not worth it.” 
Your heart was beating fast against your ears. You did everything in your power to not throw the man across the room. Your teeth snarled at him—the guy visibly winces, expecting the worst. You slowly lowered him to the ground and let go of his collar. 
“Fucking mutants.” He spits before backing up as far away from the two of you as possible. You turn to move again and the guy gets startled and jumps in fear. Logan squeezes your shoulder to try and ground you once again.
He sees you visibly relax, some regret etched into your features. He knew that you didn’t want to cause a scene but you couldn’t help it. He knew that feeling quite well—when it came to you, he was the same. 
“Let's go home.” 
Logan was silent as the two of you walked out of the bar. You cringed at the pure stillness of the night. You didn’t mean to do more than you should have. It was just an instinct, especially as the vexation flowed through your veins. 
You stop in your tracks for a moment. You opened your mouth to say something which prompted his steps to a halt, as well. “Logan, I’m—” He never let you finish. He grabs your shoulders and shoves you against the brick wall of the bar. You let out a gasp, but it’s quickly swallowed by his mouth on yours. 
His heart is beating fast, echoing against his ears. For once in his life, someone had protected him. Someone had stood up and defended him. Sure, Charles has done that many times, but not from an act of pure love. Charles believed in him. You loved him. 
He has this feeling in his chest. He wantonly has an itch to devour you. He wants to lick the sides of your body and ravish in the pure essence of you. He’d never had this feeling before—this animalistic, pure affection was pounding against his chest. 
“You just couldn’t help it, huh, princess?” He grunted against your ear. His hands caged you in, one resting beside your head and the other deliciously attached to your hip. His teeth nipped at the skin below your ear. “You just wanted to defend your old man, hmm?” He hummed. 
The hand on your hip lowered to your thigh and squeezed the plush flesh. You were wearing a pretty dress tonight, one that you knew he would rip off later. You just weren’t expecting it now. “I just—” He breathed in the smell of your shampoo and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I couldn’t let him talk about you like that, Lo.” 
You let out a whine as he growled against your ear. He was insatiable—unhinged. Something was brewing beneath his stomach that he had never felt before. “Oh, pretty girl. You wanted to protect me?” His lips were at the shell of his ear. You nodded. You almost felt shy now, a direct contrast from earlier. 
Your leg moved to wrap around his own, curling right around his hip. He smirked at the sparkle in your eyes. “Yeah, I know, baby. God, you’re just so fucking good to me.” You were both losing your patience from the pliant kissing and stumbling of limbs. You both were desperate and wanting of one another. 
His lips lowered down your neck. The hand that was caged against the side of your head was now pressed up against your breast. You whined, “They can’t—” You gasped as he squeezed the plush flesh. “They can’t say those things. Made me—” He smiles, lips curling into a little smirk. He moves his arm down to your aching cunt. “Made me see red, Lo.” 
Your hips buck into his hand, the wall scratching against your shoulders as you’re shoved more into the brick. “Yeah? Wanted to hurt him, baby?”
He groaned into your ear at the thought of blood covering your hands from destroying the man trying to insult him. It only fueled more of his fire. He couldn’t take it anymore—mouth still sticking to yours in a gruesome dance across your lips. The saliva spread to his beard, messy and filthy. 
“Wanted—ah—wanted to see him pay.” His hand fully dipped between your panties, bunching up your dress as he lifted you up against the wall. It happened swiftly, yet your mind burned with want and need.
“Fuck. You’re so wet.” He teased your slick entrance, making your legs instinctively pull him closer. “Logan, please.” 
He could smell the way you were leaking for him, spreading the slick around with his fingers. He let out a growl and swiftly unbuckled his belt. He couldn’t wait any longer and neither could you. 
“Can’t wait to fill you. Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He moves your panties with his thumb and swiftly glides in his wide girth. You moan in unison, but you swallow his own and yours with a long kiss on his lips. Your tongues swirl together and you could’ve sworn he pulled you even further. You could feel every inch of him inside of you. He moaned at the stretch of your cunt wrapped around him. “Feel so good, pretty girl. Gonna—fuck—gonna make you mine.”
Your head hits the back of the wall and you start to feel fuzzy in the head. “Lo–” You whine. “Love you.” You whisper into the night air. Something hits Logan in the chest and he can’t help but snap his hips into you even further. 
It makes you see stars, but all Logan can think about is how much he loves you. His chest was burning with something different—something more primal than he had ever felt. It made him want to drool, place his head against you, and live there forever. 
“Love you too, baby.” He grunts. He wanted to do this properly—to be a gentleman. He wanted to take you out to dinner, make sweet love to you, and then tell you those three little words. It completely went out the window when you defended him—when you stood up for him like no one else has. You completely had his back and he couldn’t help but let the happiness burst through his veins. “Love you so fucking much. You know that, baby?”
He makes you turn your head towards him to look him in the eye. You nod immediately, but that isn’t enough for Logan. “Need to hear you, baby. Say it.”
“You love me. I know you love me.” He groans and pumps his cock straight onto your cervix. It makes you squeal at the sensation and he feels the slick run down to his balls. The cold night air made goosebumps on your skin, though, your mind not even noticing. 
“Fuck, I love the way you sound. Don’t be shy, baby.” You fully moan, more than likely the sound echoing across the bar parking lot. “That’s it.” You both were beginning to feel dizzy with love and lust. He couldn’t stop staring into your eyes. He was too immersed in them and he never wanted to look away from them again. 
“Fuck, Logan!” 
“Let go, baby. Let me feel you.” The coil finally snapped as you unleashed the precipice of your orgasm. Your body shuttered against him, all while he was singing praises in your ear. You clench around him so hard that in one thrust, he’s filling you up to the brim. He slowly pumps his salty cum into you, your body convulsing with pure ecstasy. 
You start to giggle in his arms about the whole night. Logan couldn’t help but smile too. You were just too contagious. 
“Let’s go home, Lo.”
He couldn’t help but smile brightly at the thought. He couldn’t suppress the pure joy like he normally could.
“Yeah, okay.” He whispers.
You were home to him. 
He never had to do anything alone anymore. He certainly didn’t have to deal with the demons attached to his hurt heart.
He finally had you.
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toruily1 · 1 day
Text
gojo x camgirl!reader
MDNI
1.3k
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fuck he’s late. fuck fuck fuck.
in the past few months since gojo discovered your online cam shows, he’s never missed one. he’s always been there at least ten minutes before you went live to make sure he caught every second, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues sitting next to him on his bed as he waits for you to begin.
but here he was, scrambling through his flat, dropping his belongings randomly on the floor as he rushes towards his bedroom, pulling his laptop out and logging onto the website.
by the time he clicks on your live you're already completely naked, fingers playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and tugging on the hard nubs as he feels his cock harden almost instantly, the sight of your beautiful body never failing to turn him on.
he drops his laptop on the bed, eyes never straying away from your form as he feels around his nightstand drawer searching for the bottle of lubricant he knows is in there.
he lets out a triumphant hum when he locates it, tossing it onto the bed as he begins stripping himself of his clothes. quickly pulling his shirt over his head, not wanting to miss even a second more than he already did, pushing his pants and boxers down in one go.
satoru crawls into bed just as you zoom the camera out a little, and moving to lean against the headboard as you giggle at something said in the chat.
"so.." you begin and satoru's attention is automatically pulled to your lips, plump and pink and shining with gloss, opening and closing as you talk. "which toy should i use tonight?" you question, taking the camera in your hand and showing off the couple of toys you had prepared for the night.
satoru takes in the items as he decides which one he should cast his vote for.
there's two differnt dildos, one pink and thick and he knows it would look so good stretching you out. the other one, this one clear, is on the longer side and fuck he wonders if you can take the whole thing?
next to them lies a small black butt plug with a pink gem on the end and he wonders what it would look like close up, shining up at him as he fucks into you from behind.
satoru wraps his hand around his cock, stroking languidly as he makes his decision, not even bothering to look at the other options.
he hits on the donation option and types in an amount, adding an extra zero at the end to make up for being late, pairing the money with his choice, the clear one since its the one that resembled his own cock the most and pressing send. It’s longer than it is thick but with a slight upwards curve that'll hit all the right places inside of your walls.
he hits send and watches as the corner of your lips tug up into a smile at the influx of donations as everyone watching comments which one they want to see the most.
"so you finally made it huh thechosenone127?" hearing his username fall from your lips has his cock twitching in his hand. "got sad when i didnt see you earlier, thought you forgot about me" you pout, bottom lip jutting out as you pick up the dildo he chose, and bringing it up to your lips.
he's quick to type out a response, hitting send without even reading it over for any mistakes.
thechosenone127: i coud never forgot about yuo
theres a couple of typos but that doesnt stop the point from getting across because your smiling again, wider this time as you take the tip of the dildo between your lips, tongue swiping over the silicone head.
"yeah?" you question teasingly, closing your lips around the tip and sucking on it. “you better not”
satoru imagines its him that your mouth is on, tongue swirling around his tip as he brings his hand up to rub his tip, smearing the pre that's beaded at his own tip and using it to make the glide easier. he groans loudly when you take the dildo further into your mouth, sucking on it messily as if you were sucking a real dick, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth as you gag at the intrusion at the back of your throat before pulling it out and letting the string of saliva drip down your chest.
your drag the dildo down your body, moving from your mouth down to your chest, circling it around on of your nipples before doing the same to the other. you continue to drag it down the length of your body until your settling it between your legs.
gojo swallows, adams apple bobbing up and down as he watches you slap the dildo against your cunt, moaning prettily when it hits your clit.
you do it a couple more times before your dragging it through your slit, instantly coating it in your arousal with how wet you are. he has to tightly grip the base of his cock to keep from cumming the second you begin feeding the dildo into your tight pussy, watching as your hole stretches around the dildo, knowing it probably stings seeing as you didn't open yourself up on screen like you usual would.
"fuckkkk" he hears you whine out "you're so big daddy, don't— dont know if i-I can take it all"
he speeds up his strokes, matching them up with your own movements as you begin fucking yourself with half of the dildo. gojo's eyes are glued to your cunt as you push it in further and further, babbling incoherently as you force yourself to take the last few inches.
he hears you say something about feeling it in your throat and how you've never been so full but he's so enthralled by the sight of your hole clenching around the dildo that it’s hard to focus on what you're saying.
he close, so close that he's practically leaking, barely even needing to use the lube that he took out, his precum more than enough for the slide to be nice and slick.
"-na fill me up right? get me—fuck! get me n-nice and full with your cum, right daddy?" you ask, blinking wearily at the camera and gojo watches the chat go crazy, donation after donation rolling through as horny men, desperate to get the chance to actually fuck you, beg you to meet up with them in real life so that they can 'show you what its like to be with a real man, instead of some toy'
gojo rolls his eyes but types out his own comment, praising you for taking him like a good girl and how he'll fill you up until your leaking his cum.
"fuck daddy, m' so close" you bring you hand down to rub messy figures on your swollen clit.
gojo cums instantly as he watches you squirt for the first time on camera, the gush of juices flowing from your pussy enough to force the dildo out, your hole clenching and unclenching rapidly as your hand continues rubbing your cunt and spraying your juices everywhere. he continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, making sure to get out every last drop as he paints his stomach and chest with his seed, not having enough time to grab a tissue to cum in before he was cumming.
"fuck" you breathe out as you finish cumming harder than you ever have before.
"everything's wet" you let out a chuckle as you wipe your hand on your sheets since you have to change them now anyway.
gojo watches with half lidded eyes as you finish out the last few minutes of your live, thanking everyone for watching and blowing a kiss to the camera before the live ends.
he already cant wait till next week so he can watch you do it all over again.
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i'm not sure how i did with this but at least i had fun writing it! I would really appreciate your feedback, so don’t hesitate to let me know what you think!
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rafey-baby · 2 days
Text
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older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...
cw: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy
wc: 1.6k
in love w this man so more of him on the way xx
this is an additional part to this
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Rafe has had a bad day.  
She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale. 
For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.  
He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.  
”What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.
In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.
”Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal chords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.  
”Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. ”How was your day, hm?” 
”It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps.
”Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.  
And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.  
Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her. 
”Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.  
However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.
For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.
”Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.  
”So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.  
However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.  
”Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.  
She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.  
”Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.  
”Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth.
”Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.  
However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.
"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.  
”I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.  
And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.  
Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers. 
”Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.  
The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently she's 'not ready yet'.  
She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. ”Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.  
”Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants.
”I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.
It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.  
She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled. 
”What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.  
”Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.
They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her.
”Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves…
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prael · 23 hours
Text
Phonecalls
Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia
IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut
words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist
Happy Gaeul day!
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Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’
A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.
She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.
There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.
Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.
"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.
"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.
"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."
"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."
Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"
"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.
"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.
"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"
"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"
Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 
She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.
That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.
"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."
She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."
"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."
"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."
"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."
"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"
"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.
"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.
"You know where I get my fun."
"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.
The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.
"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.
"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."
You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.
"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.
"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."
"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.
"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.
"And what did he pick?"
"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.
"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."
"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.
"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."
"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.
"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."
"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.
"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.
There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."
"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.
"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."
"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.
"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."
You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."
"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."
"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.
"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."
"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"
"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."
"Let's hear it," you urged.
"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.
"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"
Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."
"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.
"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.
"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."
"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.
"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."
"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.
"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.
"I hope not."
"You wanna know what's funny?"
"Tell me," you plead to her.
"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."
You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.
"Not funny?" she asks.
"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."
"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.
"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."
"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"
"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"
"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.
"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"
"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.
"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."
"Then?" you prod her on.
"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."
"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.
"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.
You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.
"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."
You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"
"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.
"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.
Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.
"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...
"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.
It's an amazing fucking image.
"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."
You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.
"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."
"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."
"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."
You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."
"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.
You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.
"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."
"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.
"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.
"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.
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Text
After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU
Summary - So the hunt begins.
Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. Omega has a shotgun, I REPEAT, Omega has a shotgun. Mentions of violence.
Prologue Chapter 1
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The others looked at Gaz like he had finally lost his marbles but only Soap was the one to speak up and say, "Ye've gone and lost yer mind."
Gaz shook his head and grabbed Soap's wrist, forcing him to kneel down and smell the old blood. He waited for his reaction and Soap sat back, his cold blue eyes wide.
"A 'mega out here? After all this time..." Soap looked to Price and Ghost who both exchanged looks. Price rolled his shoulders and Ghost seemed to relax just a little.
"Well, if there is one we should go and find them," Price finally said.
"And where would that be?" Soap asked but his eyes had already trailed over to the forest at the edge of the town. Large enough to hide a place for an omega to hide.
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You triple checked the trap you just set, making sure the string was hidden and that it was ready to go off for the poor alpha's that made the mistake of coming onto your land. Your territory had been littered with traps for years though some had gone into disrepair due to your own negligence.
No matter, you thought as you layered more leaves on top to conceal the pit below, you're sure you'll get them with this.
Back when libraries hadn't been mere ruins with musty, rain ruined books you had developed a small fascination with the tactics and traps the Vietnam soldiers had left for the American ones. Nasty, down right awful traps but they drove America out of their country and you were intent to do the same to these alphas.
But even as you thought about the harm you would bring down upon them like a vengeful goddess, your inner omega had started to awaken more. She scratched and whined at the idea of there not only being one but four alphas near by. After years of nothing but your own fingers and the old dildo, your inner omega was desperate for something.
Yet, there was also confliction.
Yes, the deep seeded desire to be bred by four burly alphas was there but also a certain feral aspect bubbled closer to the surface. This is our land, your omega hissed, ours and they've entered it. We smelt them. They haven't left. She pushed you to make more traps, set deadlier ones.
An agreement had been made, or a compromise. Get the alpha's off your land and if one of them survived, keep him. What the next step would be, neither you or your omega had thought about that. Or if all of them survived.
A twig snapped to your left and it yanked you from your thoughts immediately. You hastily covered the trap further before you scrambled up a near by tree and waited. You fought to scratch at the dried mud caked onto your scent glands. It was damn near stifling. Worse then the stuffing in your nose.
You waited, heart pounding in your chest as you kept listening for more signs. Nothing. You let yourself breathe again and slide down from the tree you had perched in. Then you heard them, eight feet tramped down snow and broke twigs under their weight.
They were so loud.
You turned your head just in time to see a hat above a fern and a peak of something black behind it. Your hand found your shotgun with practiced ease and you stepped back and over your trap for more protection. Then they emerged from the bushes.
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May the strongest alpha win
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bro-atz · 3 days
Text
sore all over
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in which: san hates seeing you miserable during your period, and he wants to help any way he can.
pair: san/afab!reader
word count: 2.2k
content: smut, pwp, nicknames (baby), established relationship, lowkey kinda self-indulgent shhh, period sex, safe sex, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan @ja3hwa @temptaetions @flurrys-creativity @mercif4l for the input (and the validation i lowkey needed to write this lol)
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Not going to lie, San was a little worried when you didn't get out of bed all day. Well, you technically did get up to drag yourself to the bathroom every so often, but then you immediately went back to bed. He knew that you were in a lot of pain because of your period, but he didn't realize that you were going to be completely out of commission that day.
Usually, your periods didn't hit you that hard, but this time around, it was like you were being stabbed in the uterus over and over again. Your entire body was aching like there was no tomorrow, and you truly thought it was going to be over for you because no matter what you did, you were in a world of pain. Hot packs didn't help, painkillers didn't help— nothing was working to alleviate your pain. So, you just curled yourself up into a ball and hugged a pillow to your body while burying your face in the pillow.
"Baby?" San asked as he approached you on the bed slowly from behind you. "Are you okay?"
"No," you mumbled into the pillow. "I wanna die."
"Don't say things like that, baby," San said with a frown.
"How about I kick you in the balls, then you talk?" you couldn't help but retort. "You would wanna die, too, wouldn't you?"
San shivered at the thought of anything hurting his crotch. He shook his head to keep himself from derailing from his original thought and said, "Well, I'm here to help you, baby. Can I do anything else to help you?"
You tried turning to face him, but your back was so sore that it hurt when you moved even a millimeter. Still laying on your side, you grunted in slight pain as you pulled your shirt up slightly and asked, "Can you massage my back for me please? My lower back?"
"Of course I can," San replied.
San knelt on the bed, his knees on either side of you at first as he waited for something, although you had no idea what until he spoke again.
"Shouldn't you lay on your stomach for me to massage your back, baby?"
You huffed in frustration, but before you could even contemplate turning, San said, "Never mind. Don't move— I think I can still massage you well from the side."
"You sure?"
"Yes, baby," San said as he left a light kiss on your temple. "I want you to feel comfortable."
San ended up lying on the bed right behind you, his warm hands resting on the small of your back. He pressed his thumbs into the dimples on your back, and you groaned. It was still painful, but the pressure from his thumbs did alleviate some of the pain, so it was worth the momentary suffering.
Every time San pressed his fingers into your back, you groaned and sighed, the massage actually working better than the hot pack did. You found yourself pushing your body towards his magic touch, sighs of pleasure tumbling out of your mouth as his massage continued.
What you didn't realize, though, was that San was getting harder with every passing second because your moans were incredibly sensual. He knew that you were in pain and suffering because of your period, but he so badly wanted to fuck you in that moment because you sounded so fucking sexy to him with your constant moaning and groaning.
Now that the dull, throbbing pain in your back was slightly relieved, you felt your breasts get more sore. You dropped the pillow you were hugging to the floor and tried to massage your own breasts, but your hands were too weak to get the same level of pressure that San was using on your back. So, you asked, "Can you... Can you also massage my breasts, please?"
"Of course, baby. Whatever you want," San murmured.
San's hands slithered up your shirt, his palms resting flat on your ribs, his fingers brushing your underboob. As he hugged you from behind, he pulled you closer to him, your back flush against his chest. He then gripped your breasts gently, his fingers pressing into your sore breasts and starting to massage them. However, when you moaned in slight frustration, he immediately used more power and gripped your breasts tightly. As he did so, his fingers brushed past your nipples, making you moan loudly and erotically as hell. Embarrassed, you covered your mouth, your face heating up.
"That was so cute, baby," San teased as he buried his face in your hair. "Can you make that noise again for me? Please?"
"N-No. Shut up," you rejected.
Despite you rejecting him, San was determined to make you moan like that again.
"S-Sannie," you moaned when his fingers started pinching your nipples. "I-I'm really sensitive right now, baby..."
"Do you want me to stop, then?" he asked you, his breath tickling your neck and his low voice tickling your brain.
"God, no... Don't stop..."
San chuckled. He pinched the slightest bit harder before tugging on your nipple. You arched your back and sighed sensually as he continued to tug. You reached back for his head and ran your fingers through his hair. You gripped the roots of his hair and tugged his head back slightly whenever he rubbed your nipples in his fingers.
Your eyes began fluttering the more he massaged, and you completely closed your eyes when you felt him begin to leave small little kisses in the nook of your neck. You were thoroughly enjoying his massage and got sucked into your own little world of pleasure, only for your eyes to fly wide open when he pressed his pelvis into your ass.
"Sannie, you're turned on right now?" you couldn't help but giggle as you asked.
You managed to reach back and cup his clothed hard-on in your hand, the man moaning slightly as you did so. His breathing hitched as he replied, "How can I not be when I'm touching you like this... And while you're moaning like that...?"
Finally, thanks to his hard work, your soreness was relieved just enough for you to turn in his arms. You palmed his cock over his pants and whispered, "How about I help you with this, then? It's my turn to help you, after all."
"Actually," San said slowly before gulping nervously. "I think there's a way we can help each other out, baby..."
"What do you mean?"
You were honestly left completely shocked when San suddenly got up from the bed and disappeared from your bedroom. However, moments later, San returned with a couple of towels and a condom.
"Do you think you can get off the bed for a second, baby?" San asked you.
"W-What— You can't be serious right now, San," you said in disbelief, your eyes wide.
"I read online that having sex on your period should help with your cramps," he explained to you.
"But— Won't the blood freak you out?" you questioned.
"It's a natural thing, baby. Why would I be freaked out?"
"It'll get all over you, and it'll stain the bed sheets! Also, it's dirty—"
"That's what the condom and towels are for," he interrupted you. "Don't worry, baby. We don't have to if you don't want to, but I think we could at least try it out."
Honestly, you had read the same information online about the benefits of having sex on your period, and it did cross your mind to ask your boyfriend to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but you didn't think he would be open to having sex when you were bleeding; so him being so willing to have sex with you on your period without you even asking kind of freaked you out a bit, and you would've probably pushed back a little harder had it not been for your hormones turning you on earlier when he was massaging your breasts.
You agreed, and San immediately set up the bed. He laid the towels down on the bed and removed the comforter and pillows to make sure they wouldn't accidentally get stained. He had you strip down to nothing before having you lay down on the bed.
As you laid on the towels, you were already worried about bleeding onto them, and you couldn't help but fidget. Noticing the slightly stressed look on your face, San quickly removed his own clothes and rolled the condom on his twitching, hard cock before straddling you. His fingers held your chin gently, forcing you to look at him as he lowered his body onto yours.
"Baby, don't think about it as blood. Think of it as lube, only red," he said calmly. "And if you're so worried about the color, then just close your eyes, okay?"
With a soft exhale, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut as San got closer to you, his lips meeting yours. He kissed you softly and slowly, your mind melting as his kisses got more sensual. You didn't have a single care or worry with the way San was kissing you in that moment, and you were so out of touch from everything else that you didn't realize he was rubbing the tip of his cock along your cunt.
San pushed his cock into you slowly but easily, his cock filling you up. You moaned against his lips, your hands clutching the towels underneath you as you started unintentionally getting nervous again. As a result, you couldn't help but clench your cunt, and of course, San felt your nervousness.
"Baby," San interrupted your chain of kisses with a soft sigh. "Relax..."
His hands reached for your arms. He brought them up and laced his fingers with yours. He kissed you again, and when he felt your cunt finally relax, he started moving. His waist rolled into yours slowly, and the dull pain you felt earlier started melting away thanks to the friction from his cock. You couldn't help but sigh with relief the more he moved in and out of you.
"You feeling better, baby?" San asked you, his forehead pressing against yours.
"A little bit, yeah," you admitted softly.
"Then, can I move a little faster?"
San lifted his face so he could look into your eyes. You opened your eyes and nodded before closing your eyes again— technically, San was blocking your line of sight, but you were still worried that you were going to see red, so you closed them again. San buried his face in the nook of your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone. He started rutting into you a little faster, making you sharply inhale and moan while exhaling.
The wet sound of his waist meeting yours repetitively was honestly freaking you out a little bit. No matter how you tried to think about it, you knew that the wet sound was not your arousal or lube, but before you could spiral thinking about it, San moved his lips to your ear, and he started whispering sweet nothings into your ear, drowning out the sound of him fucking you.
Your entire body started shifting along the towels as San not only sped up but started thrusting harder. He let go of your hands to hook his arms under your legs, pushing them upwards, easing the strain on your lower back as he quite literally bent you in half. You could hear him grunting and moaning softly in your ear with every thrust; you could tell he was close, and honestly, you didn't realize you were as well until he grabbed your breasts again.
San intentionally rubbed his fingers against your nipples, the pleasure from how sore they were building rapidly within you. It was when San rammed his hips into yours as hard as he could, hitting your cervix with the tip of his cock, did you cum. You moaned loudly and pushed your head back while arching your back as you came, San's cock still buried inside you.
As you came, you clenched your cunt tightly, giving San's cock the right amount of pressure for him to cum as well. He moved up so he could hold your waist tightly and thrust a couple more times into your cunt. He groaned and sighed, meeting your same decibel as he filled the condom he had on his cock with his seed. Hs cock twitched and throbbed inside you as he finished, and he dropped his head back into the nook of your neck.
The two of you were breathing heavily at that point. You remained in a puddle on the bed as San got up to take the condom off and properly dispose of it before returning to your side. He wiped his fingers on one of the towels as you finally reopened your eyes to look right into his eyes, still afraid to see the damage done from him fucking you during your period.
"We should get cleaned up, baby," San said. "Why don't I help you?"
San tucked his arms beneath your back and legs, lifting you off the bed. You held onto his shoulders as he walked you to the bathroom.
"Besides," he continued. "We could always go for round two in the shower. Right, baby?"
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hgfictionwriter · 3 days
Text
Discovery - Part Three
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie spends the night for the first time and things come to a head. She's trying desperately to not hurt you, but instead, it's all she seems to be doing.
Warnings: G!P content. Masturbation (J). Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts. Angst. Reluctant gaslighting??
A/N: Chapters one and two.
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“Are you sure you have everything you need?”
Jessie smiled as she stood at the end of the couch, freshly changed into her pyjamas. You stood across from her, casually leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom. You wore your sleepwear as well, a baggy t-shirt and some shorts which she found incredibly cute. She tried to not let her eyes linger too long on your toned legs.
“I’m totally fine. You’ve set up quite the digs for me here,” she said as she gestured to the pillows and blankets.
“Okay,” you said with a small laugh. “And I set aside a couple of towels for you in the bathroom in case you want to shower when you wake up.”
“Awesome. Thank you. I tend to get up pretty early. I’ll try not to wake you up.” You waved her off.
“Don’t worry about it. I may not be up quite as early as you, but you know I’m a morning person myself.” You paused. “Okay, well, I hope you have a good sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. And if you need or want anything, just help yourself.”
“Will do. Thanks, babe,” Jessie said as she gave you a soft kiss. She sensed how you both wanted it to linger, but she forced herself to pull away. She smiled. “Good night.”
“Good night. And,” you shrugged trying to put on an air of nonchalance, “thanks for spending the night.”
Jessie chuckled and brought a hand to the back of her head. “Well, I know me biking home at ungodly hours of the night has been stressing you out the past few weeks, so, you know. Happy to finally put your mind at ease.”
She gave you another quick kiss and you retreated to your bedroom. She stared at the closed door for a few seconds before releasing a tight breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She settled into the couch, turning off the light and getting under the blankets.
She sighed contently and stared up at the ceiling. She could hear soft noises coming through the wall as you settled into bed as well.
The weeks had passed and Jessie was really happy with how your relationship had grown. Emotionally, things were even stronger - there was no question of that. Though she had to cast aside guilt every time you mentioned how close you felt to her.
That aside, simple acts of affection, like a kiss, were easier and more commonplace for you both now. And you even made out regularly, but they were always short and fleeting sessions. Jessie had been working very hard to desensitize herself and had even started wearing different clothes in hopes of better concealing a rogue erection. Still, it wasn’t a solution.
You were patient with her, but she could see your frustration building. And God, she understood, she was frustrated too.
It was inevitable that she’d need to spend the night at some point. You’d been dating for a few months and though her travel and schedule bought her time, she was running out of excuses as to why she couldn’t stay. Questions were starting to mount from your friends as well and though you laughed it off as you retold the stories to Jessie, she could see it weighed on you.
As for tonight, you told her she didn’t need to sleep on the couch, but didn’t push it at all.
Jessie was used to sleeping pretty much anywhere and everywhere, so she slept soundly through the night. When she woke, the first rays of light were just starting to break through. She blinked a few times, slowly coming to. She shifted slightly before freezing in place.
“Shit,” she mouthed as she lifted the covers and glanced down in a panic, only to confirm that her cock was jutting up and pulling her sweats tight.
She dropped the covers and looked up at the ceiling with an inaudible huff, her irritation with herself immediate.
It wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to wake up like this, and in recent years, it didn’t really matter. But laying here in your living room, sporting a raging hard on that would serve as a devastating discovery, it filled her mind with flashbacks to panicked mornings at sleepovers she tried desperately to avoid in high school.
She closed her eyes and worked to relax. There were two ways of resolving this and one was not an option right now.
She lay there for a few minutes and frowned in frustration. Normally, if she just relaxed or went about her morning routine it would just go away. She huffed under her breath and picked up her phone to start scrolling to try to distract herself.
Every time she thought of something else and was close to settling down, her mind insisted on shifting back to you and she'd remain at full attention. She rubbed her face in agitation.
"Come on," she coached herself.
The friction of the fabric being pulled taut against her as she fidgeted made matters worse. When her toes began to curl and her fists began to clench and unclench she shook out her head.
She stared at the bathroom door.
She shouldn't. She really, really shouldn't.
She checked the time. You normally woke up around this time. She couldn't just be laying out here, cock standing up defiantly, when you came out. Sure, the blanket might be able to conceal it to some degree, but...then what.
A heavy exhale escaped her lips. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She threw off the blanket and walked as swiftly and quietly to the bathroom as she could, closing the door gingerly behind her so as not to wake you. She checked the lock before turning on the shower and getting undressed.
It was a relief when she took off her boxer briefs and her cock sprang up. She stepped into the shower and wasted little time before dealing with her nuisance.
At home, it didn't take much for her to cum. She could drag it out if she wanted to, but if she was in a time crunch, that wasn't a problem. Right now? The minutes passed as she stood under the warm water and grit her teeth as she tried to find some release. She leaned a hand out against the shower wall and closed her eyes again as she pictured you - what your touch would feel like, how you'd feel gripping her, how you'd sound, how you'd look beneath her or riding her cock.
Fuck, she should be cumming, but she was too in her head.
"Jess - what do you-"
"What!" Jessie bellowed, her eyes flying open as she recoiled from the wall. Her chest heaved, breaths shallow and her heartbeat deafening in her ears as she stared in panic at the inside of the shower curtain before taking a tentative step and peering around it. The bathroom was empty.
Her lips were parted as she tried to catch her breath. She could've swore you were inside. She could see from here the door was still locked.
"Sorry," you said through the door, tone undecipherable. "I'll just talk to you after."
She cleared her throat, staring helplessly at the back of the door.
"Sorry! I-I was just surprised. What's going on?"
Silence.
Well. That was one way to deal with her arousal. There was nothing to worry about now.
Jessie dried herself off as quickly as possible and got changed. The pit in her stomach was heavier than ever as she recited different apologies or explanations in her head.
She yelled at you. She couldn't believe it. She didn't yell at people like that - especially not people she cared about. Loved. She grit her teeth together almost painfully.
This secret was twisting who she was and how she was showing up for you.
Her hand on the door knob, she took a deep, steadying breath before twisting it and stepping out. It only took a second to see you sitting quietly at the dining table with a book in hand. You didn't look at her right away and her stomach dropped.
"Hey," Jessie said gently as she approached. She tried to not be tentative, she didn't want to exacerbate what happened, but she couldn't help herself. "Good morning." She forced a smile onto her face.
"Hi," you said. Though a hint of a smile remained on your face, the open smile you started with dissipated as quickly as it formed. Your gaze fell briefly before you refocused on her. You smiled again, nervously this time as you gestured vaguely towards the bathroom. "Um, sorry about that. I didn't mean to-"
"Oh no," Jessie interjected, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hands. "I'm sorry. I-I was just surprised. It didn't mean anything though."
"Oh. It's okay," you shrugged, dropping eye contact. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I could've just waited."
"No," Jessie countered with a frown. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."
You chuckled lightly, a faint, perhaps rueful smirk forming at the edge of your mouth. "I mean, it caught me off guard - not gonna lie. But I caught you off guard too, so, we're even."
Jessie felt her face heating up and she scruffed up her hair.
"No, that's not fair. I'm sorry," Jessie persisted.
You shrugged, sitting back, eyes fixed on your now-closed book for a moment. "We're still new; learning each other's boundaries. You don't like to be interrupted when you're showering." You laughed as you looked up to her with a smirk. "That's completely fine. I just didn't know."
Jessie held back a heavy sigh. This was so stupid.
"It wasn't that. I think I just thought you'd come in and I freaked out. I'm sorry."
"I wouldn't do that," you frowned in disbelief. "I," you gave an exasperated sigh and dropped your hands to your lap, "was just trying to see what you wanted for breakfast." Jessie was about to speak went you frowned deeper and spoke in a somewhat hushed voice. "Why would I barge in on you? We haven't even- never mind." You shook your head.
Jessie's stomach tightened and she sighed in an effort to reset. "Look, I'm very, very sorry. And yeah, it was stupid of me to think you were just barging in. I-" she shook her head as she tried to conjure up the right words. She shrugged in defeat. "This is entirely on me. Not you."
You gave her a look. "Oh, I love that line."
"It's not a line," she refuted before hanging her head in her hands and groaning. She straightened back up and gave you a beseeching look. "Can I make you breakfast? Please?"
You half rolled your eyes. "I was going to make you breakfast."
"No, come on," Jessie said as she headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I owe you."
You relented and soon enough Jessie was sitting down across from you, plates of eggs and toast in front of you both.
There was conversation during breakfast, but it was stilted. This was not at all what Jessie pictured for your first morning together and of course it was her fault. It took valiant effort on her part to not get down on herself in this moment. If she did, she'd clam up and it would only make things worse.
Jessie insisted on doing the dishes after breakfast, despite your protests. You didn't finish your food, instead claiming it tasted good, but you just weren't that hungry. She hadn't even had a chance to inquire as to your plans for the day before you excused yourself, telling her you had to run some errands and meet up with a friend after. She wanted to offer to join you for errands, but got the sense you didn't want that.
When you parted ways that morning, she well and truly felt like shit.
----------
Thankfully, the awkwardness of that morning was fleeting and soon you two were back to normal. She'd even stayed a few more times over the passing weeks without incident and for that she was grateful.
She begrudged your situation more and more because all she wanted was to be with you. She wanted to spend every night with you, she wanted to fall asleep with you in her arms and wake up just the same. But, that couldn't be. Yet anyway.
Janine had been on her case to tell you everything, and she knew Janine was right, but every time she went to broach the subject her mouth went dry and she just chickened out.
At the start, she tried to tell herself that if she gave your relationship more time, it would be more comfortable to bring up, you'd have a solid foundation to fall back on. Even then, she knew it was a lie to cover up her cowardice. But now, several months into your relationship and even longer into your friendship, it felt like an impossibility to address. It felt like a betrayal.
And stupid moments caused friction. You two had been laughing about something and Jessie sat down after and you sat in her lap. Though she let you sit there for a short while, the way you shifted against her was far too risky. She tried to subtly coax you off, but she caught the look of embarrassment on your face.
Tonight, you were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie together. Then, of course, a hot and heavy sex scene started playing.
You both remained perfectly still as you both watched. The tension and anxiety Jessie felt was palpable and she was sure you felt it too. It's not that you'd never come across explicit scenes before together, but it was more and more awkward over time.
"Wow. They're really going for it," you muttered at some point as the scene dragged on, breaking the silence. She looked at you out of the corner of her eye and saw you rub your temple with a near-grimace on your face.
Her heart raced. Maybe she could use this as an opportunity. She cleared her throat and resettled into her position on the couch. She scratched at the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, totally," she said distractedly in response to your comment. "Um," she could feel her face heating up already, "I know you're into girls - I mean, obviously." Jessie's head lolled to the side as she shrugged. "But um, does that mean, you know, you've never slept with a guy? Or you know, been interested? In you know, sleeping with a guy?"
When she turned to look at you, she was met with a very perplexed stare. You frowned.
"What do you mean?" You asked, a slight edge in your voice and Jessie felt her face burning hot. She pulled her hand out of yours as she held out her palms while she spoke.
"I was just curious," she said as she brought her shoulders high in a prolonged shrug.
"Have you?" You asked pointedly.
"Wha- Me? Slept with a guy? Well, no," Jessie stammered, feeling your eyes bore into the side of her face as she spoke towards the TV. She looked back at you as she finished and you looked away.
"Mm," you voiced and you settled into the cushion a bit further, still not looking at her as you folded your arms tight against yourself.
"Well, um," her gaze flit about as she tried to map out how to proceed, "is that bad?"
"That you haven't slept with a guy?" You asked, that edge still in your voice as you looked at her. "Guess that all depends if you think it's bad that I have."
"You have?" Jessie asked brightly and you gave her an even more confused look. "Did you like it?"
"What? I'm so confused right now." You pushed yourself back up and turned your body partially towards her. "I don't know where you're going with this. But me sleeping with a guy before doesn't mean anything." You frowned. "If you're asking if I liked fucking a cock," you gave a faint laugh with a pointed look, "clearly not enough." You sat back against the couch once more and shot her a smirk. "That curiosity was satisfied and I don't ever need to do it again. A strap is more than enough for me."
Jessie's body froze and she held her breath in her lungs unknowingly. She eventually swallowed and looked away, settling back into the couch as well, but unable to speak. She felt numb.
"Hey, did I say something wrong?" You asked. She could see you sitting forward to peer at her. She felt your hand rest on her thigh and she cleared her throat, pulling away slightly before fixing her gaze on the TV again.
"Wha-" You started, shoulders dropping as you stared at her in confusion. "Babe, I don't-" You trailed off again. A moment passed, but you didn't break your stare. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong."
"It's all good," Jessie said lightly, offering you a fleeting glance before nodding at the screen. "I was just curious. Can we watch the rest of the movie?"
She saw your body slump out of the corner of her eye and felt your eyes still on her. You seemed to contemplate what to do, but eventually sat back. You went to grasp her hand, and although she didn't pull away this time, she didn't reciprocate as her fingers rest loosely around your grip.
"Do you want to sleep with a guy?" You asked slowly, not letting up.
"No," Jessie responded firmly.
"Well, what is this about? I'm sorry," you repeated emphatically. "I know we never talk about sex. I'm sorry if I said too much. But you asked, so I answered...," you trailed off.
Your note about how you avoided the topic of sex like the plague made matters worse. She tried not to let out a sigh of exasperation, settling for a glance down at your hand and a feeble shrug. "It was nothing. Let's just watch the movie, okay?"
"I can tell it's not nothing," you went on and Jessie turned to you this time, giving you a steady stare. You looked so sorry, confused, helpless even. Part of her felt bad, but at this point she mostly felt bad for herself. Her emotions were churning and she wasn't sure how to feel or what to say. She wanted to leave.
She stood up and caught the look of concern on your face, but turned her back to you anyway.
"Where are you going?" You asked. She could hear you push yourself to the edge of your seat.
She scratched the back of her head. Her conviction to leave now wavering. She pushed her hair back.
"Just gonna grab some water," she settled on, her voice low and flat. She forced herself to turn and give you as much of a smile as she could muster. You looked unconvinced and were about to speak, when she cut you off. "Want anything?"
You paused, seeming to relent. You stared at her for a couple of seconds before dropping your gaze. "No," you said quietly as you sat back.
When Jessie returned to the couch, the tension was no better, but you'd seemed to be giving her space, which she was grateful for.
Her mind ran rampant throughout the rest of the movie. She caught herself fidgeting several times over; running her palms harshly against the top of her thighs, picking at her fingers, bouncing her knee. She wasn't being very subtle about her unrest, but you kept your distance.
The movie ended and the credits rolled and neither of you went to speak or make a move. Jessie fought the renewed urge to leave.
Eventually, you spoke.
"It's pretty late. Guess we should go to bed?" You asked in more of a statement than a question. Jessie didn't look at you and simply nodded. Another pause.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want," you offered, voice softer than before.
She shot you a look, holding eye contact. Even though she wanted to leave a moment ago, the fact that you offered it caused her temper to flare.
"Sure. If that's what you want," she said in a restrained manner as she stood.
"What? I-no. Jess," you implored. "That's not what I meant." She heard you stand, but she kept her back to you. "I-you just seem...restless. And not happy with me. So..., I was just saying you shouldn't feel obliged to stay the night. I want you to stay, but, only if you want it, too."
"Why would I be upset with you?" Jessie asked evenly as she turned to face you. She knew it was entirely unfair to ask, but she was so out of sorts and didn't know how to manage.
You gave almost a pained laugh. "I was hoping you could tell me. Because I don't know." You gave a quick shake of your head and held out your hands in defeat. "You asked me this question about sleeping with guys. I answered, and now you won't talk to me."
"And I told you it was nothing. I was just curious. I'm just tired. It's been a long week," she said. She knew she should offer you some kind of reassurance - the truth, for one - but even a smile or a kiss or something. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
You didn't believe her; that was clear. Still, you nodded.
"Okay. Well. If you want to talk at some point, I'm open. I'd like to," you offered before clasping your hands together and shrugging. "And, I do want you to spend the night still. If you like."
How? After how cold she'd been. Cagey. You still wanted her to stay. You were too good for her. The anger she'd been using to build a wall between you weakened.
"Okay," she said quietly, kicking idly at the hardwood floor, her eyes downcast before looking up at you. "If you're alright with me staying, I will."
You gave a discouraged shake of your head. "Yes, of course I want you to stay. Jess, you-" you stalled and just shook your head further. "Yes. Please stay."
She set up on the couch like usual. Tonight you didn't even attempt to offer sharing a bed together and you retreated to your room after a tentative and brief 'goodnight' kiss.
Jessie didn't know how long she laid there staring up at the darkened ceiling. Her mind wouldn't let up.
You had no interest in cock. So, you weren't interested in her. At least you wouldn't be once you knew.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She really wanted things to be different with you. She was so stupid. She'd let things go far too long. She'd been too scared to address things - to risk losing you. And now she was going to lose you anyway, but she'd let too much time pass, your connection grow too deep. Her chest ached already.
How could she protect herself so much, but still leave herself so vulnerable?
All of the 'should've' and 'could've' moments from your relationship were playing endlessly in her head. Her nails dug painfully into her skin as she tried to retain composure.
Alarm shot through her body as she heard your bedroom door open. She lay entirely still as the door softly opened. It was a couple of second before she saw your figure tentatively stepping out into the dark only to stop at the foot of the couch.
"Jess?" You whispered.
Another flare of panic went through her and her body stiffened further. She managed to respond though.
"Y-yeah?" She said, needing to clear her throat and hating how muffled her voice sounded with residual emotion.
You were quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"I can't sleep," you said, and Jessie's chest panged when she heard your voice waver.
She cleared her throat again. "Me neither."
You sniffled and took a seat on the arm of the couch. She could make out the shadow of you staring down at your hands as you fidgeted.
"I don't like how we left things tonight," you said quietly.
A renewed wave of anxiety went through Jessie, her hands clenching into fists.
"Yeah. Same," she said. It was true, even if you were upset for different reasons.
"Can we talk, then?" You asked. Jessie exhaled silently. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted things to be better. To be different. But she didn't want to have the hard conversations that would likely be the end of things.
"Sure," she agreed.
"Can you...," you trailed off momentarily, "tell me what upset you this evening? Because, if I said or did anything offensive or upsetting, I really want to know so I don't do it again."
"You didn't do anything," Jessie told you, already feeling herself start to withdraw despite everything.
"Jess," you implored, some impatience bleeding in. "Please. I know something's wrong. And I-" You paused, eventually exhaling. "Knowing that I've upset or hurt you in some way is driving me crazy. I-I care about you so much. You don't even know. I just want to fix things."
Jessie felt tears started to pool at the corner of her eyes again and she felt her defenses weaken.
"You didn't do anything wrong, baby," she said gently. "I'm just in my head."
You moved from the arm of the couch to the cushions. You leaned forward, resting your weight on your palms that you positioned outside of her legs, close enough to touch.
"You don't need to be," you said. "I want you to feel safe talking to me. Isn't that the point of how we're approaching our relationship? To build things emotionally?"
Jessie ground her teeth together as she fought off impending emotions. Even if she knew what she wanted to say, she wasn't sure she'd be able to speak without her voice trembling. She saw as you watched her quietly before looking away in defeat. Still, your thumb tenderly grazed the side of her leg.
"I don't know what to do," you said, gaze set on the floor. You eventually looked back to her, a pained smile on your face as you looked at her through the dark. "I really love you, Jess." Your voice broke as you said her name.
Jessie lifted her head to look further at you before pushing herself up so she was sitting. You loved her. Or at least you thought you did. Her chest tightened painfully as your words settled in.
"You don't have to say the same," you spoke quickly. "I just- I just want you to know."
She stared at you through the dark. She wanted to reciprocate. So badly. But how could she tell you she loved you when she couldn't find the courage to tell you anything else?
Her thoughts turned dark. Truth was, you didn't truly love her. You legitimately couldn't. You only loved what she presented and time was quickly running out.
The longer she waited the more hurt you looked. She felt so conflicted and eventually just reacted.
"Come here," she said softly as pulled you by the shirt towards her and kissed you deeply. She felt your body hitch with initial hesitation before melting into the kiss. You pulled back briefly, studying her for a second before kissing her again, deeper and more passionately than earlier.
Things escalated quickly. Your touches were hungry and urgent and this time Jessie did nothing to stop you. Soon, you were straddling her on the couch as you made out and your hands wandered along her body.
It wasn't long before a tightening sensation in her pants brought her back to her senses. Her grip on your waist tightened and you moaned into the kiss as you ground your hips into her.
Jessie's eyes flew open in a panic and she pushed you off of her. She tried to be gentle and gradual about it, but there was still an audible thud as you made contact with the arm of the couch.
Jessie watched you, wide-eyed and terrified as you looked back at her with shock that quickly dissolved into hurt. You cast your gaze to the wall, your body stiff, and Jessie could see emotion starting to bubble up.
"Y/N, I-" she started, but her words caught in her throat as you stood up and walked briskly into your bedroom. You threw the door closed behind you, and whether intentional or not, it didn't quite close and was left a few inches ajar.
A completely different kind of anxiety swept through Jessie's body as she rose off the couch and strode towards your door, pausing and staring at the gap between the frame and door. She wanted to push it open, but she remained rooted to the spot.
"Y/N," she called your name softly. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I-"
"Just go away, Jessie." Your voice was congested and strained and left her with little doubt that you were crying. Even then, you didn't sound angry, you sounded dejected and defeated and it hurt Jessie far more.
She let out an exasperated breath, bringing her hand to the door and opening it just a touch as she peered in. You were already under the covers at the far edge of the bed with your back to the door.
"Can we please talk?" Jessie asked, hoping desperately that you could feel how sorry she was.
You sniffled and she saw you curl into yourself under the covers. "No. I'd really rather not right now." Jessie's heart ached and continued racing.
"I-I can understand. But, please let me explain-"
"There's not much to explain," you interrupted. Jessie protested your claim and you cut her off again, trying valiantly to keep your voice steady though it still wavered. "I'm just going to go to sleep, okay?"
Jessie's stomach was in knots as she stared at your figure in the dark. There was so much she wanted to say.
"Please close the door," you pleaded softly.
She opened her mouth to speak, even lifting herself up onto balls of her feet before stopping herself. Defeat swept over her as she saw you wipe at your face. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed quietly. Her stare lingered a few moments longer before she reached up and closed the door.
She walked in a daze back to the couch and sat down heavily and stared blankly forward. This morning, you two were close as ever. Now...
Her shoulders shook as she started to cry. The display of emotions caught her off guard and she sat up pin straight and grit her teeth together harshly. Her lip trembled and she held her breath firmly in her lungs as she tried to regain control.
She dug her fingers painfully into the tops of her thighs and a small whimper escaped her. She'd tried to be so careful about everything, but instead made a royal mess out of everything.
She sniffled as she pushed herself off of the couch. She found herself at the front door, putting on her shoes and jacket. She grasped the doorknob, stilling, hesitating for just a moment before swinging it open and stepping out.
Glancing back, she contemplated texting you or leaving you a note of some kind. Her throat grew tight once more with grief and she closed the door.
Let's be honest. The way she was hurting you, the way she was lying to you for so long, she clearly wasn't ready to be in a relationship. You deserved so much better.
A/N: Folks asked to be tagged @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp
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