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#i just started thinking and then i was gone
5sospenguinqueen · 23 hours
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Suck My Balls - Kevin Magnussen x Mercedes! Reader
Summary: When you and Kevin collide on track, fans half-expect you to start attacking each other. That’s not… quite how it ends.
Warnings: 18+ after the cut. Male oral. Enemies to lovers. Not an original title but how could I call it anything else 
Requested: No, which makes it worse lol
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln just posted
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liked by georgerussell63, hulkhulkenberg and others 
yn_ln starting p3 tomorrow, looking forward to going racing. in a position to push for a podium
2,044 comments
mercedesamgf1 that’s our girl! looking forward to a masterclass of overtaking 
georgerussell63 flaunting the gear, are we? yet you make fun of me when i post the tommy
→ yn_ln “flaunting the gear” and “post the tommy” this is why twitter say you have 0 aura
→ georgerussell63 @/mercedesamgf1 she’s being mean again 
→ user i love the 2019 rookies in merc
charles_leclerc you couldn't have gone a little slower and let me on the second row instead? 
→ yn_ln it’s against my contract to help pretty boys 
→ danielricciardo is that why you gave max a tow?
→ maxverstappen1 that was an accident! 
user she’s such a great starter. i bet she ends up leading by the second lap at least 
user yn podium incoming
→ user i think you mean yn win incoming 
→ alex_albon i can feel it in my bones 
→ yn_ln thank you my #1 fan
→ georgerussell63 so you steal my aura and my alex? 
user it’s a shame that yn’s time knocked nico into p11
→ user it's okay because haasband kevin magnussen will be committing war crimes to defend him 
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f1 posted a new story
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18+
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A throaty groan filled the room as nimble fingers tugged harshly on cropped blond strands. In response, his lips sucked on the pulse point below your ear. Kevin chuckled against your skin when your hips rolled eagerly against him.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this,” you spat, shoving him away from you.
“Skat, I have my thigh between your legs. There’s no way for me to not enjoy this.”
You rolled your eyes at the smug grin on his face, pushing him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the hotel bed. He let himself fall backwards with a soft thud. Tucking an arm behind his head, he watched your eyes track the flex of his bicep with a smug smirk.
“Don’t be an asshole. Or I stop.”
“Now that would be more disappointing than the DNF.” His words trailed off as he choked on his own breath. The palm of your hand pressing down harshly on the bulge in his jeans. “Fucking hell.” He groaned, throwing his head back.
“Do you really want to piss me off right now?”
Kevin lifted his head, blue eyes darkened and pink lips apart, breathing heavily. Your hand moved to the top of his jeans, popping open the button and revealing a glimpse of grey boxers. A dark spot had formed where his tip sat.
“Desperate, are we?”
“Do you ever shut up?” Kevin groaned, pink staining his cheeks.
“Only when my mouth’s full.”
“Then I suggest you get on with it.”
He lifted his hips, helping you to pull the denim down his thighs, giving up once they’d reached his knees. He watched eagerly, holding his breath as your fingertips reached for the waistband of his boxers. He squirmed when your fingers skimmed his stomach. His boxers are pulled down, freeing his cock. It slaps against his stomach, thick and heavy. The cool air paired with the way you’re looking at him sends goosebumps rippling across his thighs.
A stuttered breath left his lips when your hand wrapped around him. Slowly working him, you sink to your knees between his legs. Your hair tickles his thighs when you lean down to press a kiss to the bottom of his stomach.
“Don’t be such a tease,” he hissed.
You ignored him, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his thigh all whilst your hand pumped him. Your tongue licked a stripe up his balls, enjoying the way his body jolted beneath you.
“Fuck,” he grunted when you took his balls in your mouth, sucking slightly. You chuckled against him, sending vibrations through his balls. “Oh, shit.”
Your tongue trailed a line from his balls, up the underside of his shaft before wrapping your lips around his tip. Looking up, your eyes connected with his just as you sucked. Enjoying the way his head tipped back, you took more of him into your mouth before pulling back up. His hips bucked up, chasing your lips. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down. His abs clenched when your tongue traced his slit, and you were rewarded with a throaty groan from Kevin. His hand reached for the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He hesitated for a moment, waiting for you to pull back. Pulling back up, your lips sucked gently on the head of his cock.
“You’re so beautiful.” Kevin whispered, pushing a strand of hair back from your face.
Using his hold on your hair, he pushed your head down further. His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged slightly. Your hand continued to pump what you couldn't reach with your mouth. Allowing Kevin to control the pace, you relaxed your jaw, taking more of him in when he pushed you down again.
“Shit, you’re so good at that. I’m so close.”
Encouraged, you suck harder, hand reaching down to cup his balls. With a slight squeeze, you let Kevin push your head down once more as he releases with a loud curse. Thick white ropes of cum paint your tongue, leaking from the side of your mouth.
“Oh, god. Oh, fuck. So good.” Kevin whimpered, sensitive as your mouth slid off him.
Hair dishevelled, cheeks pink, mouth wide open, looking spent and satisfied. You decided you could get used to this sight of Kevin.
“I told you that you’d like that.”
Before you could laugh at your own joke, you felt the world spin and your back landed on the white sheets. An involuntary wince escaped you, body bruised from your earlier crash. Kevin immediately scrambled back, off your body.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I forgot- and it’s my fault-“
Your arms reached out for him, yanking until he lost his balance, almost collapsing atop you. His arms fell beside your head, bracing him.
“Shut up. You’re not here to be nice. If I wanted nice, I’d have asked your teammate.”
“He couldn’t fuck you like I can.”
“Prove it.”
And, as Kevin reached down to yank your leggings away, a darkness in his eyes, you knew he would.
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yn_ln just posted
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liked by kevinmagnussen, francisca.cgomes and others 
yn_ln it’s a shame some people don’t have better reaction times but the main take away from this weekend is that i’m okay. a little bruised and a lot disappointed. now for a little girly self care 
2,750 comments
landonorris oh god, my eyes (puke)
georgerussell63 blimey, warn a man first. not what i wanted to see 
→ yn_ln "blimey?" do you need to calm your nerves with a spot of tea?
alex_albon treat yourself, girly 
user i love how the 2019 rookies are together
→ user alex being the only supportive one
mercedesamgf1 we’ll see you on that top step soon enough, yn 
user not k mag liking this post whilst she shades him in the caption
→ user can you blame him. she’s thirst trapping
→ user he probably saw people on twitter talking about it and came to drool 
user being a passenger princess is the ultimate form of self care
alexandrasaintmleux loving the aesthetic 
→ user even the man?
→ alexandrasaintmleux especially 
charles_leclerc is the bath a good place to cry?
→ yn_ln yes
→ charles_leclerc can you show me how to make one like that?
→ yn_ln also yes. on my way 
lilymhe okay, i see you. treating yourself in more ways than one
→ yn_ln it definitely was more than one way 
→ landonorris filth!
user why aren’t more people freaking out about the fact that there is clearly a man touching her???
→ user thank you! like who is he? is this a soft launch or just miss thing flaunting the fact that she probably got railed after the grand prix
user anyone else think that tattoo looks a lot like kevin’s?
(picture 3 has been deleted) 
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Requests are open
No tags because this is smut and I don't know if all of you are comfortable with that :)
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Trinkets
Five presents Jason brought you back from his adventures and one you asked for. (+ one) ~1.2k words of fluff
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Jason Todd brings you home gifts from his missions, which wouldn't be a problem, but he never really explains what they are.
The first time it happened, you had laughed at the green ring with a lantern symbol in the middle. It looked cheesy, like one of the fake ones you can buy from the superhero merch stores littered around malls and outlets.
You'd kissed his cheek in thanks, put it on your shelf, and never gave it a second thought.
At least you didn't, until a bright green glow woke you up from your sleep. You'd sat up immediately, jaw practically dropping to the sheets as the ring lifted itself off your shelf and flew out the window.
Jason barely budged, his arm still thrown over your waist. He let out yawn and cuddled closer before speaking, voice groggy and heavy, "Huh. Didn't think they noticed that one was gone."
"They," You half yell, voice pitching as you stare at his outline, hidden in the shadows of the room.
"The Guardians, babe," he yawns out, "They're in charge of the space cops. Just go back to sleep."
Naturally, you do not go back to sleep. You drag him to the kitchen, make tea, and demand he explains why a Green Lantern ring was in your apartment. (He's very happy to)
The second time it happens, you're much more wary of the gift he brings home. But to be fair, he can't really pass off an Amazonian steel sword as something he just picked up.
It doesn't take as much convincing as it should for you to let him mount it on your wall. But it's a sword! No one can blame you for thinking it looks cool in your living room.
It turns out keeping it around is pretty useful, because a few weeks later, your boyfriend crawls through your window, dressed head to toe in armor.
"Hey, doll," he drawls, "Can I borrow your sword?"
"Sure," You chirp back, more preoccupied with your book as he saunters over to the sword, "what for?"
"Artie's got confiscated, and we haven't gotten to steal it back yet," he supplies, stopping long enough to pull his helmet up and kiss your head.
"Oh, that sucks," You answer, offhandedly, "Give her and Bizzaro my love."
"You got it, babe," he chirps already halfway out your window.
He does bring your sword back, covered in green blood, but no worse for wear. It still looks great on your wall.
He brings you a box next. It's kind of ugly looking, but you thank him nonetheless.
"Be careful with it," he tells you as you flip it over in your hands, "It opens boom tubes."
You almost drop it, and if you hadn't already experienced the power ring, you would have shrieked at him. Instead, you manage to put it down very carefully and calmly ask, "It does what?"
"Open boom tubes," he answers, which clears absolutely nothing up, "I figured we could use it to country hop for our next date night. You know, dinner in Paris, drinks in Dubai, dessert in LA."
"Okay," You answer slowly, as if that makes complete sense.
It turns out, it does. Date night is lovely, and making out with your boyfriend on a random beach in Spain is very, very nice.
Batman waiting in your apartment to take back the boom box isn't so nice, though.
Jason tells you it was worth it. He's absolutely right.
The third thing Jason brings you is a plant. Flowers aren't a rare show of affection from him, but ones that move are.
"Uh, thank you, Jason," You start, prodding at the moving petals, they nuzzle your fingers the same way a kitten would, "But I don't know how to take care of these."
"Same way you take care of any other plant, water, fertilizer, nutrients, all that fun stuff," he says fondly, stroking a few of the petals.
"What if it gets sick," You ask, uncertain.
"We'll call Ivy," he says, unbothered.
"Right. Ivy. Poison Ivy. Who you know," You mumble, but the little plant is already worming its way into your heart. (You affectionately name it Daisy, for no other reason then it sways happily when you say that name)
The fourth thing Jason brings you makes you laugh because you know exactly what it is, "Jason, we can't keep this."
"Why not," he pleads, shaking the bright green quiver filled with arrows at you.
You giggled harder, smiling wide as you shake your head at him, "We don't even know what those do. Don't some of those explode?"
"So what," he huffs, practically pouting, "We can ask Roy. And it's not like I don't know my way around explosives."
"I guess so," You relent, trying to stifle your laughs as you inspect the bright green arrows, "How did you even get this?"
His eyes light up mischievously, "Do you really want to know?"
You stop short and narrow your eyes at him, "I would lose my plausible deniability."
"But you wanna know," he says, sly and playful.
You do. (It involves mutated chickens, tar, and one distracted Oliver Queen. You hang the quiver next to the sword)
Jason's getting ready to leave, bags packed and helmet lazy held under his arm, "Can I bring you back anything specific, doll" he asks, his free hand resting comfortably against your cheek, "Lasso of Truth? Maybe something with magic?"
You grin at him, leaning into his touch, "I actually do have something in mind."
"Oh," he prompts, eyes glinting with excitement.
"I want to complete my batarang collection."
He falters, "Your– what?"
"No one has," You exclaim, pulling away to showcase your collection, "I have Nightwings, Batgirls, Batmans, yours, of course, one of Robin's. But I'm missing Spoilers, Batwomans, Signals, and Red Robins."
He blinks at you, "That's– if that's what you want."
You giggle at how dumbfounded he looks, practically bouncing back over to him to kiss him, "Thank you, Jason."
He catches your waist and pulls you back in for another, longer kiss that leaves you both breathless and panting. His voice lowers, like it's a secret, "I'll bring you back some batarangs. See you in a few days?"
"See you in a few days," You echo, and he winks at you as he tugs on his helmet, leaving out your window.
Sure enough, you get your batarangs when he gets home. It takes some convincing, a few kisses that leave you senseless, but you get Jason to help you mount your batarang collection alongside the sword and quiver.
"I should get you a plasma rifle next," he drawls, admiring your growing wall of weapons.
"I think I'd fall over if I tried to shoot one of those," You point out, all smiles.
"I'll teach you," he tells you, hooking an arm around your waist to draw you closer.
Jason's a man of his word, and sure enough, he brings you home a plasma cannon after his next mission.
You only destroy most of the shooting range in the batcave when he lets you try it out.
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gguk-n · 2 days
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Fading Shadow (Lando Norris x ex-Reader)
Part 2 of Last Straw Inspired by this request
Summary- Y/N moved on. Lando is still stuck, on what they had and what he lost.
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{Reader's POV}
The moment I landed back home, I felt relief wash over me when I cried in my mother's arms. I had been holding on to too much, it seems. My father brought my favourite food and we ate together and we laughed together. This was the therapy I needed. My siblings weren't very happy with Lando since they had seen everything unfold on social media but they were happy to have their sister back. I was happy to be back home. I needed this, I needed my people.
I decided I needed a change of pace, a change of scenery. I had been mourning my relationship while I was still in it. Now, I was a new me, I was going to do everything I wanted.
I applied at the company I always wanted to work at but due to there being no vacancies I was assigned a job in a different country and I was ready to take on the world. I knew Lando would never search for me, he never truly loved me but I still wanted to leave. I needed a fresh start.
{Lando's POV}
The silence after the break up was exactly what I needed, or so I thought. I could leave as I wished. I could go out whenever I wanted. I didn't have to explain myself to anyone. It's so much better to be single then to be tied down.
I didn't think I would ever miss Y/N, but I did. I remember exactly when I missed her for the first time; it was after a difficult race and I had finish decently with the shitty cards I had and I just wanted someone to tell me how well I did; but there was no one; no one who knew what I wanted to hear. I felt so alone even when I was surrounded by hundreds of people for the first time in a long time.
The second time I missed her was when I was stood on top of the top step of the podium. I wanted to have her around so I could share my highs with her. I didn't get a 'do you wanna go out to celebrate?' like the last two times and I aired her both time to party with random girls. Right now, I was in the club celebrating my third win of my career and season and I felt empty and alone. Not even the alcohol helped.
The house we lived in was a stark reminder of the time we spent together. All our dates we had. All the times she would teach me how to cook but we would always end up with a big mess and half cooked or burnt food since I would get distracted. In retrospect, I loved every second of it even though I never admitted it then. I love all the time we spent together or the laugh she would emit when I messed up. I missed her and I wish she was here; I was too stupid to admit it then but I do now.
Oscar was getting sick and tired of me using his phone to check on Y/N's social media accounts since she had blocked me every where. I would end up borrowing the other driver's phone to check, just in case. Until one day, her account stopped showing up for Oscar too. I went through almost everyone on the paddock's phone to see if she had blocked my friends. Turns out, she had deactivated her social media accounts; I realised that after one of the gossip pages posted about her deactivating her profiles, across all the platforms.
I would wake up from dreams about her and I would fall asleep to the thought of her. No woman interested me anymore; I wish I was this loyal when we were dating, when she could see that I loved her, not now when she couldn't even see I had changed.
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My PR team was losing their shit when I tweeted that. I had to sit through a stupid meeting after everything. It was miracle I didn't start crying in the middle of the meeting.
People had started to notice I guess, since Carlos approached me. "Cabron, what's up?" he asked while I was lying on my couch after media day. "Nothing" I hummed. "I fucked up right?" I asked. "I can't say no" Carlos said. I laughed painfully. "I didn't know how good I had it until it was all gone. I'm an ass and I deserve everything I'm getting" I cried. Carlos comforted me, hugging me tightly. "I just wish she would talk to me, at least once. So, that I could show her that I've changed. I really have Carlos. I love her so much, it hurts" I cried into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lando" he said patting my back.
There's a saying, You don't know what you've got until it's gone. I was living that nightmare and I will never stop living it.
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eddiethebrave · 2 days
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secret admirer part twenty-two
759 words
one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one
Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H
You���d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?
Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 
It only makes him think, though. 
Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?
What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 
On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 
The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 
For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 
The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 
Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 
Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 
Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 
It’s a drawing. 
A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 
Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 
Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 
Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 
Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H
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calware · 2 days
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as time goes on my interesting in shipping (for homestuck) (that's really the only fandom i'm in) has just gone down lower and lower because i used to see "shipping" as just "characters who were compatible in some way". for example i would look at karkat and feferi and be like "they didn't interact much but a lot was going on with the two of them in terms of their themes and how those themes intersect. and since romantic relationships are "more complex" or "better" or "more potent" than other relationships the natural progression is to ship them together romantically" but the stuff that would make them potentially interesting as a pairing isn't inherently romantic at all. and i feel like that goes for a lot of if not most of the characters. homestuck to me is way more centered on the idea of friendship (and family sometimes but moreso friendship) than romance and when characters have something important going on between them the interesting part is usually not inherently romantic
even the characters that start dating where their romantic attraction IS very important is based on their initial friendship..!! vrisrezi wouldn't be nearly as meaningful if they weren't friends first, same with dirkjake, etc. arasol is such a popular ship and they only dated once when they were 8 years old…. their relationship from that point on is SO important to who they are but it isn't even inherently romantic after the fact, but people see romance as the "natural progression" from there so clearly they "should" date once they get the chance to do so again. my point is i wish people would pay more attention to some of the non-romantic aspects of relationships in hs because i really think that's what takes center stage within the story most of the time (not ALL of the time of course there are definitely parts where romance is important. but you get what i'm saying)
and then of course to take that a step further and be even more of a hater i'm so tired of people taking stuff and putting it into a romantic context when it's entirely unnecessary…. i made a video with dave and karkat bickering and people tagged it as davekat for no reason. literally that post about dirk and john meeting each other that people kept tagging as dirkjohn for no reason. i'll make posts about the alpha kids being friends and doing stuff together and someone went through my entire blog tagging all of these as "alphacule" for no reason. i'll draw dirk and hal literally just looking at each other and someone will tag it as dirkhal. girl they're just looking at each other. seeing someone liveblog collide and they go "did anyone else think dirk and dave should've kissed >_<??" no i actually don't think they would do that. it's so dark in here
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rosenclaws · 3 days
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obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut
summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE
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How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.
Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?
You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 
He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.
But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 
"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 
You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 
"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 
He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 
"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 
It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.
Need.
You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.
You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 
"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 
"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 
"Let me take my time." He purrs.
His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.
"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.
Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.
You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 
"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 
"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 
"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.
You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.
You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 
"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 
"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 
"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.
The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 
"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 
"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 
"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 
"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 
"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 
"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.
Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.
"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 
"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.
Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 
"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 
"You loved her..." You croak out. 
"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 
"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 
When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.
"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 
"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 
“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 
“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.
“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 
“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.
“Please, I just need you.”
“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.
He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.
“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.
“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.
“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.
“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.
You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.
“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.
“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.
There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.
“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.
“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.
You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.
“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.
This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.
“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.
“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.
His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.
You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.
“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.
“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.
“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.
“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.
How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.
You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.
For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.
Just you and Logan. Forever.
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mssalo · 2 days
Text
safety - Part: III
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Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.
As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.
Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.
Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Panic episode/Paranoia, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, he sees stuff that isn't there, Mentions of war and combat-related trauma, Emotional manipulation, Power dynamics, Noncon/dubcon elements, Unstable mental state, Reader feeling conflicted. Joel needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.
10k
Enjoy!
Part I Part II
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
The soft afternoon sun filtered through your curtains as you did one last sweep of your small apartment, making sure everything was in place before heading out.
Your camping gear—neatly packed and checked twice—sat by the door, ready for another adventure.
This one felt different, though.
Maybe it was because you’d never gone so far out, or maybe because the spot had been suggested by Joel, the rugged, quiet man who came by at the supply store.
The thought of him made your stomach do a tiny flip, and you smiled to yourself, biting your lip.
Joel.
He was... intense, that was for sure.
Handsome in a way that took you by surprise—older, gruff, with that scruff on his jawline and those eyes that seemed to see right through you.
He’d been kind of closed off whenever you tried to talk to him, always giving short answers, but there was something about the way he looked at you.
You shook your head, grabbing your bag. Don’t get carried away.
Sure, he looked at you sometimes, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary, but that didn’t mean anything.
You were probably imagining it. After all, he was always so reserved, so hard to read.
And you? Well, you were... you.
He probably thinks I’m just a kid, you thought with a small sigh.
Cute, maybe, but nothing more.
You laughed at yourself, shaking your head as the trees closed in around you.
Stop it. Focus on the trip.
You weren’t here to daydream about handsome older men—you were here to camp, to prove to yourself that you could handle this on your own.
He was just... nice, in his own way. That was all.
You couldn’t help but smile as you tossed your gear into the backseat and slid behind the wheel, already feeling the excitement buzzing in your chest.
The open road stretched ahead of you, leading to the spot Joel had mentioned—someplace out past the ridge, quiet and secluded. It sounded like heaven.
The drive was peaceful, your fingers tapping the steering wheel as the scenery shifted from city to countryside.
The trees seemed to grow taller as you left the main roads behind, the air turning cooler and cleaner with every passing mile. You loved this—the sense of leaving the noise behind, of stepping into a world that was all your own. Out here, you could breathe.
The road eventually narrowed into a dirt path, and your car rumbled over the uneven ground as you followed the directions Joel had given you.
The sunlight flickered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.
It was beautiful out here—quiet, untouched, with the kind of peace you could only find miles away from anyone else.
When you finally pulled into the small clearing, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Wow.
The space was perfect.
The trees formed a natural border around the clearing, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The ground was soft with pine needles, and the air smelled fresh and earthy, with just a hint of woodsmoke from somewhere far off.
You stepped out of the car, your boots crunching on the ground, and for a moment, you just stood there, taking it all in.
This is exactly what I needed.
You popped the trunk of your car, the warm breeze rustling through the trees as you grabbed your backpack and gear.
The sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky, casting a golden glow across the clearing, but you had plenty of time to set everything up before dusk settled in.
With a smile tugging at your lips, you slung the pack over your shoulder and took a deep breath of the crisp, earthy air.
It smelled like pine and moss, with just a hint of the nearby sea.
Perfect.
First things first—the tent.
You dropped your backpack onto the ground and knelt beside it, unzipping the side pocket where you’d stashed the tent poles.
Your fingers brushed over the cool metal, and you couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you pulled them out.
These damn poles always give me trouble.
You spread the tent fabric over the grassy spot you’d chosen, carefully laying it flat and adjusting the corners.
The fabric crinkled under your touch, the sound almost lost in the hum of the wind and distant birdsong. The air was still, quiet, as if the forest itself was holding its breath while you worked.
With a determined sigh, you grabbed the poles and got to work.
The metal clinked softly as you tried to fit the pieces together, but as usual, they resisted you. You grumbled under your breath, fumbling with the last stubborn connection.
After a few minutes of struggling and a minor battle with the pole that just wouldn’t line up right, you finally secured the tent frame, the fabric puffing up as it took shape.
Not bad, you thought with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire your handiwork.
The tent stood proudly in the clearing, and you wiped a bit of dirt off your hands, brushing them against your jeans.
You weren’t done yet, though.
With the tent in place, you moved on to your cooking supplies. You pulled out your small camp stove, some pots, and a few basic utensils, setting them neatly near the fire pit.
Everything had a place, and you liked knowing where everything was. Organization was important to you—it gave you a sense of control, made you feel prepared for anything.
It was comforting, like you were creating a little slice of order in the middle of the wilderness.
As you set down your cooking gear, your gaze flicked up toward the treeline, where you could just make out the glimmer of the sea through the trees.
The light reflected off the water like tiny diamonds, and you felt a pull in your chest, a desire to sink into that cool water after all your hard work.
Soon, you thought, grinning to yourself.
Just a little longer.
You double-checked your setup, making sure everything was where it needed to be.
The tent was secure, the cooking supplies organized, and the fire pit was ready for later. With everything in place, a sense of accomplishment washed over you.
The silence of the clearing felt peaceful, almost sacred, as if this place had been waiting just for you.
You took another deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs, and as you exhaled, you felt lighter, freer.
It was just you and the wilderness now, the weight of the world falling away. And with that thought, you couldn’t resist any longer.
You straightened up, glanced back at the sea shimmering in the distance, and a surge of excitement bubbled up inside you.
Without thinking, you raised your arms toward the sky and let out a loud, joyful, “Wooooohooo!”
Your voice echoed through the trees, the sound dancing on the wind.
You couldn’t help but laugh as the echoes faded, your heart pounding with exhilaration.
It was a small victory, this moment—being here, in this beautiful place, by yourself.
“Thank you, Joel!” you called out, a grin stretching across your face.
You weren’t sure if you were talking to the wind or to yourself, but it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t here, but somehow, it felt right to thank him.
After all, he had recommended this place, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the suggestion. You stood there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle in again.
Then, with a smile still tugging at your lips, you turned toward the path that led to the sea.
It was time to reward yourself with a swim, to feel the water against your skin, cool and refreshing.
This is going to be a good trip.
And who knows? you thought, maybe I’ll come back and tell Joel all about it.
· · ──────
Joel had been watching her since she arrived, hidden in the treeline, his gaze sharp and steady. His truck was parked a ways back, well out of sight.
He’d walked the rest of the way, making sure to stay quiet as he moved through the brush, his boots silent against the earth.
He was always careful—old habits from his time in the military never died, and neither did his instinct to remain unseen.
Joel watched her step out, wide-eyed and eager, like she hadn’t the faintest clue about the dangers lurking in a place like this. Even though he’d told her where to come, seeing her here alone had set him on edge.
He had to protect her. Make sure she was safe.
She started setting up her camp, fumbling with the tent poles like he expected she would.
His lips twitched in amusement as she muttered to herself, the poles giving her more trouble than they had any right to.
He watched her struggle, clumsy but determined, and despite himself, he felt his chest tighten again, that same damn feeling that had been gnawing at him for weeks.
He shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching her like this, but the more he told himself that, the more his feet stayed planted. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a tree as he kept his eyes on her.
She was smart—he could see it in the way she double-checked everything, making sure the tent was secure, the cooking gear laid out just so.
She wasn’t careless, not exactly. Just… naive.
Still, something about her innocence, her softness, drew him in, despite his better judgment.
As she finished up, he was about to move, maybe head back to his truck and give her some space, but then she did something that made him freeze.
She raised her arms to the sky, her voice bursting out of her in a loud, joyful, “Woooohooo!”
Joel tensed, his instincts flaring, his hand instinctively hovering near his belt. The sound had startled him, snapping him into high alert.
He scanned the area, eyes narrowing, but there was nothing.
Just her. Alone. Safe.
Relief washed over him, but then he felt something else—a strange amusement creeping in.
She wasn’t screaming out of fear. No, she was celebrating, shouting into the empty wilderness like it was hers to claim.
She laughed, carefree and so full of life that it almost… unsettled him. His chest loosened, and before he could stop himself, a low chuckle rumbled deep in his throat.
She had no idea he was there, no idea how close he was.
Then, to his complete surprise, she threw her head back and shouted, “Thank you, Joel!”
Joel’s eyebrows shot up, the words hanging in the air between them, the sound of her voice almost too sweet.
His grip on his belt relaxed, his pulse slowing as he realized she was… thanking him.
For this. For bringing her here.
His amusement deepened, and he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. A soft breeze rustled through the trees, and Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice a low murmur as he whispered under his breath,
“You’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
He watched her for a moment longer, her happiness infectious despite himself. She was something different, that much he knew. Something soft in a world that had long since hardened him.
And as much as he knew he should leave her alone, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Not now.
Not when she was out here, completely unaware of the dangers that could surround her at any moment. Because that’s what he was here for, wasn’t it?
To keep her safe. To make sure nothing happened to her.
Joel watched her from the shadows, still on high alert as she busied herself around the campsite. His amusement had faded, replaced by that familiar tension coiling in his chest, the constant need to keep her safe gnawing at him.
It didn't sit right with him, her being out here all alone.
She had no idea what kind of dangers lurked out in the woods, no clue just how vulnerable she was. He clenched his fists, eyes narrowing as he kept his distance.
She was endearing, sure.
Sweet, even.
But that sweetness was going to get her killed if she wasn't careful. And as much as he wanted to keep his distance, to leave her be, he couldn't. She needs to be protected, he thought, his jaw tightening.
She doesn't even realize how easy of a target she is.
He kept his eyes on her, watching every movement with a careful precision. It wasn't just about keeping her safe from wild animals or the natural dangers of the wilderness.
People-men-could show up.
She was vulnerable in more ways than one, and Joel knew just how ruthless the world could be. His mind was spiraling again, his paranoia threatening to take over, when he saw her heading toward the small lake just beyond the campsite.
His eyes followed her, every muscle in his body tensing as he realized what she was doing.
She was undressing.
Joel's breath caught in his throat as he watched her pull her shirt over her head, her soft skin catching the light of the fading sun.
His mind screamed at him to look away, to respect her privacy, but his body betrayed him, his eyes glued to her every movement.
She dropped her shorts next, standing there in nothing but her underwear, the curve of her waist and hips on full display.
Joel's chest tightened, that familiar, unwanted heat rising inside him. He swallowed hard, his grip on the tree next to him tightening.
All the blood rushing to his cock.
But then she did something that made his blood boil.
With one fluid motion, she unclasped her bra, letting it tall to the ground.
His eyes locked onto the bare skin of her back, the soft curves of her body now fully exposed. She bent down, slipping out of her underwear, her entire form now vulnerable and exposed to the world.
What the hell is she doing?
A surge of anger flared up inside him. She was defenseless, naked, out in the open with no protection.
If anything-anyone-were to show up, she wouldn't stand a chance.
His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, the kind of things he'd seen during the war, the kind of things that made his skin crawl.
She's making herself a damn target.
Joel's jaw clenched, his fists tightening as he took a step forward, every instinct screaming at him to go to her, to tell her to put her damn clothes back on, to stop being so careless.
But then he froze.
His eyes swept over her again, this time with less anger and more... something else. The tension in his chest shifted, the fire in his veins cooling to a slow burn as he watched her step into the water, her body moving with a grace he hadn't noticed before.
Her bare skin glistened in the fading light, soft and smooth, the curves of her hips and the lines of her back almost too perfect.
She moved so effortlessly, her body swaying gently as she waded into the water, unaware of the eyes on her.
Joel's breath came out in slow, uneven bursts as he watched her. His anger faded, replaced by a twisted sense of admiration.
She was beautiful-there was no denying that. Her body was soft, untouched by the harshness of the world. His eyes traced the curve of her waist, the way her plump ass shifted as she walked deeper into the water.
Joel's chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy as he watched her.
His hand twitched at his side, his mind warring between the desire to protect her and the desire to... take her.
Take her - right here, right now on the forest floor.
His gaze followed the curve of her back, the way her hair floated around her in the water.
She was so oblivious, so innocent, completely unaware of the dangers around her.
And that was what enraged him—the recklessness, the vulnerability.
She had no idea how exposed she was, not just to the world but to him. The thought gnawed at him, tearing at the edges of his resolve.
He should have been disgusted with himself for standing there, hidden in the shadows, watching her like this. But the desire twisted deep inside him, growing stronger the longer he stared.
Joel swallowed hard, his throat dry, as his eyes roamed lower, taking in every inch of her.
The tightness in his jeans was almost painful, his cock pressing hard against the denim, aching in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
The war inside him raged on.
His mind wavered between the desperate need to protect her and the darker, more primal urge he had no right to feel. He wanted to shield her from the world, from the dangers lurking just beyond the trees.
But at the same time, he wanted to take her in all ways possible, to claim her as his. To fuck into her small body. To make her understand just how much she needed him.
No. Stop.
Joel leaned against the tree, his knuckles white as he fought to steady his breath.
His breath hitched as she resurfaced, water cascading down her bare skin like liquid silver.
The way the sunlight danced across her damp figure, catching on every curve and hollow, made her look almost unreal—like something ethereal, pulled straight from a dream.
Her skin shimmered in the fading light, her hair slicked back, clinging to her neck and shoulders in wet strands that only accentuated the softness of her features.
She didn’t belong out here.
She looked too delicate, too pure for the wildness surrounding her.
The contrast between the untamed wilderness and her serene, almost angelic form sent a shiver down his spine.
She was grace in motion, completely unaware of how vulnerable she was.
Each movement she made, each ripple in the water as she waded further in, was almost hypnotic, drawing him in deeper.
He had seen a lot in his life—too much.
The ugliness of the world had hardened him, left him numb to the softness it still had to offer.
But now, watching her, something in him cracked.
It wasn’t just the lust. It was something else.
Something about the way she seemed to glow in the dying light, so peaceful, so unburdened by the weight of the world.
She was everything he wasn't—everything he’d lost a long time ago. Ethereal, untouchable, and yet here she was, right in front of him.
Joel felt the pull again, that urge to protect her, to shield her from the darkness that had consumed so much of his life. But more than that, he wanted to keep her for himself, to have her softness against all his rough edges.
And in that moment, he realized, there was no going back.
Joel's jaw clenched as she started to wade back toward the shore, the water slipping down her body, revealing more of her as she emerged. The way the droplets glistened on her skin, made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.
His pulse quickened, the primal urge to keep watching nearly overwhelming him.
But then, Joel forced himself to look away.
Not yet.
His fists tightened at his sides, nails digging into his palms.
He wanted to see her fully, to drink in every inch of her-but not like this.
In due time.
The thought stirred something deep inside him, the hunger gnawing at him even more fiercely.
He swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls.
Joel exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down, forcing his gaze back to the safety of the trees.
· · ────
The sun had finally dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across your camp.
You moved around with a sense of contentment, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.
Everything felt peaceful—the kind of peace that you didn’t often get to experience in your daily life.
You set about lighting the small lantern, but as you reached for your flashlight to help navigate the growing darkness, a frown crossed your face.
“Where is it…?” you muttered, going through your bag again.
You checked each pocket carefully, but no flashlight.
You’d been so sure you packed it.
With a sigh, you knelt to check your gear one more time, shaking your head at your forgetfulness.
But then, there it was.
Sitting right in front of the tent flap, the flashlight gleamed in the soft light of the lantern, as if it had been there all along.
You blinked, rubbing your eyes in confusion.
“I swear that wasn’t there before,” you whispered to yourself.
It didn’t make sense.
You hadn’t seen it when you set up the tent, and you definitely would’ve noticed it while sorting through your gear. But after a moment of hesitation, you shrugged and picked it up, flicking it on to make sure it worked.
The beam cut through the growing twilight, casting long, gentle shadows over the campsite.
You felt a little silly for doubting yourself.
Maybe you were just distracted—too caught up in the excitement of the trip.
“Good job, brain,” you muttered with a grin, brushing off the strangeness as you moved on.
As you dug through your pack to prepare for dinner, your hand paused mid-search. You realized something else was missing.
Your lighter.
“Oh, come on,” you groaned, slumping your shoulders in frustration.
This was supposed to be the easy part.
You sat back on your heels, glancing around camp, trying to figure out where you might have left it.
But before you could even get up to start looking, something caught your eye.
A lighter.
Sitting near the fire pit.
You squinted, taking a step closer. It wasn’t just any lighter.
It had a goofy design on it—bright colors with some sort of cartoon character.
You raised your eyebrows, picking it up and turning it over in your hand. The lighter had a ridiculous picture of a grinning, cartoonish frog on it, wearing sunglasses. Beneath it, the words “Coolest Camper Ever!” were printed in bold letters.
You burst out laughing, the absurdity of it breaking through your earlier frustration.
“What the heck?” you giggled, flicking the lighter on and watching the small flame flicker to life.
“Well, guess this’ll do,” you chuckled, tucking it into your pocket.
You had no idea where this thing came from—it certainly wasn’t yours—but it was too funny to care.
Besides, a free lighter was a free lighter.
You couldn’t shake the feeling of oddness, though. Finding the flashlight and then this strange lighter? Maybe you were just a bit more scattered than usual, but still… it was weird.
You shook it off, letting the humor of the situation lighten your mood as you went back to your tasks.
· · ────
Joel moved like a shadow through the trees, his steps soundless on the forest floor. Years of survival had taught him how to blend into the background, how to become invisible when needed.
This wasn’t his first time sneaking up on someone—far from it—but something about doing it now, with her, made his chest tighten.
It wasn’t the same as before.
No enemy patrols, no immediate danger. But there was a weight to this, a tension that hadn’t been there for years. He was on edge, his senses heightened, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.
She hadn’t noticed him yet. Not once.
That fact gnawed at him, frustration bubbling under the surface. She was so damn easy to watch, so completely unaware of the world around her.
It bothered him how vulnerable she was, how easily someone could sneak up on her like this.
Like he was doing.
But that's different.
As he moved closer, crouched low among the trees, he caught sight of her bent over her bag, her back to him as she searched for something.
nice view.
Joel quickly dismissed the thought.
He narrowed his eyes, watching her every move, assessing the scene like he had a hundred times before in far more dangerous situations.She was clumsy, fumbling with her things, but she didn’t seem to care.
Didn’t seem to realize how exposed she was.
Joel moved closer, his heart beating steadily in his chest, the thrill of sneaking up on her stirring something dark inside him. He reached into his bag, picking up the flashlight with ease, his rough fingers brushing against the cool metal.
He considered leaving it there for her to find but decided against it. She didn’t deserve to fumble around in the dark. Not on his watch.
Instead, he stepped toward the front of her tent, staying just out of her line of sight.
He placed the flashlight down carefully, making sure it was in a spot where she’d see it right away.
Then, he stepped back, blending into the shadows, watching her from his cover.
The satisfaction he felt when she spotted the flashlight was immediate, that small spark of pleasure flaring up in his chest as she picked it up, her face lighting up with a smile.
She thought she’d just found it by chance, like it was some kind of lucky accident.
Joel’s chest tightened at the sight of her, the tension in his muscles easing for a moment as he watched her laugh softly, holding the flashlight like a prize.
Sweet, sweet girl, he thought, his lips twitching into a small, satisfied smile.
Helping her, watching her without her knowing—it stirred something in him, something deeper than just the need to protect.
He liked seeing her happy, seeing that soft, innocent smile on her face.
And maybe, just maybe, he liked knowing that he had a part in it.
But as she continued with her setup, completely oblivious to his presence, Joel’s satisfaction turned to frustration.
She was too trusting, too naive. Anyone could sneak up on her like this—hell, anyone could do worse. The thought made his stomach churn.
She was easy prey. He could see it. Anyone with the wrong intentions would see it.
That didn’t sit right with him. She should have been more aware, should have been on edge, watching her surroundings like he was.
Instead, she was just… carefree.
Smiling to herself, humming that soft tune, completely at ease.
Joel’s hand clenched around the lighter in his pocket, his thumb brushing over the ridiculous cartoon frog on the side.
He almost didn’t bring it—didn’t want to be caught with something so ridiculous—but it was the only spare lighter he had on him.
He’d groaned internally when he fished it out earlier, irritated by the childish design. But now, watching her, it felt like it fit. She was the kind of person who would laugh at something like that, who would find it cute instead of stupid.
Joel moved again, slipping the lighter out of his pocket and placing it by the fire pit while her back was still turned. He retreated quickly, his heart pounding a little faster as he watched her from the shadows.
Her reaction was immediate. She spotted the lighter, her eyes widening in surprise as she reached for it.
She held it up, inspecting the cartoon frog, and then let out a soft laugh.
Joel shifted slightly, his eyes still locked on her as she moved around the camp, still smiling to herself, still humming that soft tune.
A mix of pride and something darker twisted in his chest.
She’s doing alright, he thought, his eyes softening for just a moment.
She’s managing.
But it didn’t change the fact that she shouldn’t be out here alone. So damn easy, he thought, his grip tightening on the tree next to him.
She wouldn’t be easy prey for anyone else.
Not while he was around.
· · ────
The night had grown darker, the soft glow of her campfire flickering against the tall trees.
The shadows seemed to stretch and shift as the wind rustled through the leaves.
She was oblivious to how exposed she was—how vulnerable. Joel could see it, though, with each breath he took, his eyes fixed on her.
Then it happened.
A sudden thud and a sharp, startled yelp echoed through the still night air.
His body reacted immediately.
Joel’s heart lurched, and his mind instantly raced back to those moments he tried so hard to forget—those moments where a single sound could mean life or death.
His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. His hand reflexively reached for his knife, muscles coiled, his senses heightened. Without thinking, he moved forward, his feet silent against the earth, ready to act, ready to fight.
His breath came fast and hard as his eyes locked onto her form.
She was sitting, clutching her knee, her face twisted in a mix of pain and frustration.
“Stupid root,” she muttered to herself, clearly frustrated.
She wasn’t in any real danger—just a small cut, a scrape from tripping over one of the tree roots near her tent.But Joel couldn’t process that right away.
All he saw was blood.
And in his mind, that blood meant danger.
His fingers twitched around the handle of the knife, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as the past threatened to swallow him whole. Memories slammed into him—the screams, the gunshots, the sight of bodies crumpling to the ground.
He couldn’t lose her, too.
His mind flashed back to another time, another place, where he couldn’t protect someone. Someone who depended on him.
No. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
Not with her.
She shifted, wincing as she gingerly touched her scraped knee, bringing Joel back to the present.
His chest heaved with heavy, erratic breaths as he forced himself to focus on her—on the here and now.
She wasn’t hurt. Not really. But she was vulnerable. Alone.
And she had no idea how easily that could change.
Joel gritted his teeth, the panic still clawing at the edges of his mind, even as he crouched back into the shadows, watching her, making sure nothing else was lurking in the dark. His grip on the knife loosened, but only slightly.
Her yelp still rang in his ears, echoing in his mind like the sounds of explosions, of soldiers calling out for help, of people he couldn’t save.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe, trying to pull himself out of the spiral, but the need to protect her—to keep her safe—burned hotter than anything else. It consumed him.
Joel blinked, his eyes snapping open, refocusing on her.
She was bandaging her knee, her movements slow but steady.
She didn’t realize how close she’d come—how easy it was for something to go wrong.
She never did.
Joel swallowed hard, pushing the memories down deep where they belonged, forcing himself to stay in the present. She finally stood up, brushing herself off with a soft sigh of relief, and Joel let out a shaky breath of his own. She was okay. For now.
But that fear, that suffocating terror of losing her, lingered in his chest, gnawing at him, refusing to let go.
As Joel watched her by the fire, his mind began to drift, despite his efforts to keep it anchored in the present.
He should’ve been focused, alert, scanning for threats the way he used to on patrols. But tonight, his attention wavered, his thoughts tugging him back to a place he’d rather forget.
The darkness around him wasn’t just the night anymore.
It felt like the blackness from years ago, the same emptiness that had swallowed him whole when the world had gone to hell.
The firelight flickered against her face, soft and warm.
A shadow of something ugly crept over his chest, a weight pressing down on him as memories surfaced.
Old sounds echoed in his ears—the screams, the gunfire, the deafening silence that always followed. He blinked hard, trying to shove it all away, trying to stay here, in the now.
But the harder he fought, the more it pressed in. His jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply through his nose, his fingers digging into the ground beneath him, grounding himself.
He wasn’t back there. Not anymore. He was here, with her.
Watching her.
Focus.
But the silence around her, her obliviousness to what could be lurking in the shadows—it made him feel the same helplessness he had felt back then.
It crawled under his skin, a sickening reminder of what happened when you let your guard down, when you trusted too much.
His heart pounded in his chest as the old memories of blood and failure threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t lose control. Not here. Not now.
He was responsible for her, for keeping her safe. That’s what mattered. That’s why he was out here in the dark, crouched behind trees, sneaking around like a damn ghost.
But the sight of her, so unaware, so damn vulnerable, gnawed at the edges of his mind, warping the lines between past and present.
A flash of something dark ran through his mind—her, crumpled, broken, hurt, blood on her soft skin. He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut, fighting off the images.
No.
Not her.
It was just his mind playing tricks on him. The way it always did.
He forced his eyes open again, and there she was—still sitting by the fire, completely unaware of his presence. Alive. Unhurt. Fine.
But the fear wouldn’t leave him.
He’d seen too much, lost too much. And he couldn’t shake the thought that she was going to slip through his fingers just like everything else had. His muscles tensed, his hands shaking slightly as his breath came faster.
He had to stay calm, had to stay in control. But the firelight flickered against her skin, and the memory of another fire, another moment he couldn’t change, flickered in his mind.
He was back there, just for a moment—back in the dirt, the weight of the gun in his hands, the scent of burning wood and flesh thick in the air.
He blinked, shaking his head, trying to drag himself out of it. His fingers curled into fists, grounding himself in the rough texture of the earth beneath him.
She’s not them, he reminded himself again, his breath coming fast and ragged. She’s not them. She’s here. You can protect her.
But the fear was relentless.
His need to protect her was more than just that. It was the only thing tethering him to reality, to something other than the nightmares.
If he could keep her safe, if he could make sure nothing happened to her, then maybe he wouldn’t have to drown in the guilt and the memories that haunted him every night.
Joel wiped a hand across his face, the weight of it all pressing down on him as he forced himself to focus on her again.
His chest rose and fell with shaky breaths as he stood up, retreating back to the shadows. He would watch her, make sure nothing happened to her.
And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay for one more night.
· · ────
Joel’s breath hitched as he crouched in the shadows, his eyes darting toward every shift in the wind, every rustle of leaves.
Something wasn’t right.
The air felt thick, oppressive, like it was charged with danger, and his gut twisted painfully. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing, but the nagging fear only grew stronger.
Something was out there. Someone was watching.
His mind flickered back to the war—how quiet the enemy could be, how they could slip through the trees, undetected until it was too late.
He was trained for this. He knew when something was lurking, waiting to strike. But this wasn’t like before. This was worse.
Joel’s jaw clenched as he scanned the treeline, eyes narrowing at the dark silhouettes of the forest.
The shadows moved, shifted in ways that didn’t make sense.
His heart pounded in his chest, a cold sweat trickling down his neck.
They're out there. They want her. They couldn't take you - now they want her.
They’ll take her if you don’t move now.
The thought gripped him like a vice, and before he could stop himself, Joel was on his feet, moving toward her camp.
His hand was still wrapped tightly around his knife, his breath heavy and ragged as he stepped closer. His heart hammered against his ribs, every step bringing him closer to the firelight.
He could see her now—still by the tent, oblivious to what was out there, what was coming. He was sure of it.
The shadows… they were moving too fast. Too wrong. The enemy was here. He knew it.
His eyes widened, panic swelling in his chest. Move faster. Move before they take her.
“Joel?”
Her voice was soft, surprised, and completely unaware of the danger as she turned to face him. Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion flashing across her face as she stepped toward him.
But all he could see were the shadows.
Circling. Closing in.
Joel lunged forward, grabbing her arm with a firm, desperate grip. “We need to go,” he growled, his voice rough and frantic.
“What? Joel—”
“They’re here. Right there in the trees,” he rasped, eyes wild, scanning the darkness behind her. “We need to leave now. It’s not safe.”
She froze, her eyes wide with confusion as she looked around, trying to see what he saw. “I don’t—there’s nothing out there—”
“They’re coming for you,” Joel cut her off, his voice urgent, the raw panic clear in every word. His grip tightened on her arm, and for a moment, the fear in his eyes startled her more than his words.
“Joel, wait,” she said, her voice shaky, but she didn’t pull away. She could feel his hand trembling against her skin, his breath coming out in heavy, uneven bursts.
Her heart raced in her chest as she realized something was wrong. Really wrong.
There was no one in the trees. There were no shadows creeping toward her.
But Joel—he believed it.
She could see it in his eyes, in the way his muscles tensed, the way he scanned the darkness like a man hunted.
He wasn’t seeing what was real. He was lost in something else—something dark and terrifying.
Her stomach twisted with a mix of fear and empathy.
Joel wasn’t trying to scare her. He wasn’t trying to hurt her.
He was trying to save her.
But from what?
Joel’s eyes were wild, scanning the tree line as if any second something was going to leap out and drag her away. His grip on her arm tightened, his knuckles white, and his breathing erratic. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his whole body taut like a coiled spring ready to snap.
The way his gaze darted around, the sheer panic in his voice—she could tell he wasn’t seeing the same world she was.
“They’re here,” he repeated, his voice barely more than a growl. “Don’t you see ‘em? They’re in the trees, waitin’ for their chance. They’re comin’ for you. We gotta go, now.”
Her stomach flipped. She couldn’t see anything. The trees were still, the night was calm—nothing moved except the gentle sway of the branches in the breeze. There were no shadows, no figures lurking in the darkness.
But Joel… he was seeing something. Something awful.
For a moment, panic swelled in her chest, the weight of his fear pressing down on her like a heavy stone.
She wanted to pull away, to run, but she couldn’t leave him like this. His mind was trapped in whatever nightmare had a hold on him, and the only thing that seemed real to him was her.
He thought he was protecting her.
“Joel, listen to me,” she said softly, even as her heart raced. “There’s no one out there. It’s just us.”
But he shook his head violently, his eyes wide, unblinking. “No, no, no, you’re wrong.” His voice was strained, and for a second, she thought he might completely lose it. “They’re watchin’… waitin’. I can’t let ‘em take you. You have to come with me now.”
Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her breath quickening as she watched the battle raging behind his eyes. He was lost in something she couldn’t reach.
She glanced at the woods, her eyes scanning the same tree line, trying to see what he saw. But there was nothing. Only shadows and silence.
“Okay,” she said quietly, forcing herself to stay calm, though her fingers trembled as she gently placed her hand on his. “We’ll go. We’ll leave, alright? But you have to calm down.”
He blinked, his breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts. His grip on her arm loosened, but only a little. His eyes flickered between her and the darkened woods, uncertainty clouding his face.
“Just breathe, Joel,” she whispered, keeping her voice steady, even though the fear still crawled beneath her skin. “We’ll go. I’m right here. Just breathe.”
For a moment, Joel seemed to hesitate, his gaze shifting between her and the unseen threat in the trees. His body was still rigid, his muscles coiled with tension, but her voice—her touch—seemed to reach him, if only just a little.
She squeezed his hand gently, her heart pounding in her chest.
“We’ll be okay, Joel. But I need you to calm down. I need you to help me. I can’t do this without you.”
“You’re the only one who can save me,” she whispered, forcing the words through her tightening throat.
He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since this episode started. His eyes were still clouded with panic, but there was something else there now—something raw, almost vulnerable.
She was giving him what he needed: a sense of control, of purpose. If playing along helped ease his fear, she’d do it. She’d make him feel like he was saving her.
She didn’t let go of his hand. “Let’s go, okay? We’ll go to the car, and we’ll get out of here.”
Joel hesitated for another beat, his eyes darting back to the trees one last time before he nodded slowly. “Alright,” he rasped, his voice strained but quieter now. “But we need to move. Now.”
“Okay,” she agreed, giving him a small, shaky smile. “We’ll go.”
Her heart was still pounding, but she felt a wave of relief as his grip on her arm loosened.
The whole time, Joel’s eyes remained locked on the trees, his paranoia still burning beneath the surface.
She didn’t know what had triggered him, didn’t know what demons had clawed their way into his mind. But she knew one thing for certain—Joel wasn’t in control right now. His fear was.
And as they made their way toward the car, she glanced up at him, her mind racing.
He wasn’t just scared. He was terrified—terrified for her.
But she didn’t let go of his hand, squeezing it gently to pull him back, to ground him in the present. and uncertain, “ I can’t let them take you.”
“They won’t,” she promised, even though the terror in his voice made her own heart race.
“They won’t because you’re here. But I need you to focus on me, alright? Focus on keeping me safe.”
Joel’s eyes flickered again, his shoulders stiff with tension, but he nodded slowly, as if trying to pull himself out of the dark place he’d fallen into.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
She shook her head, brushing it off. “You don’t need to be sorry. Just stay with me, okay?”
They reached the car, and she gently guided him toward the passenger seat, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. He hesitated, looking back at the woods one more time, his brow furrowed in deep suspicion.
But when she opened the car door, he finally climbed inside, his breathing still uneven, but not as frantic as before.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, she glanced over at him, her mind racing.
She didn’t know what exactly had triggered him, but she knew she had to get him away from here, had to bring him back to some kind of safety.
He needs help, she thought again, her heart heavy with the weight of the realization.
And despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel the strange mix of fear and concern that tied them together in this moment.
· · ────
Joel’s fingers twitched, his hands balling into fists in his lap as he stared out the windshield, still scanning the woods. The shadows played tricks on his mind, flickering with movement that wasn’t really there.
His chest was tight, his pulse still pounding in his ears.
But when he looked over at her, sitting there, waiting for him to calm down, something inside him clicked.
He couldn’t let her drive. Not like this. Not when the road might not be safe.
“Move over,” he muttered, his voice rough, but less frantic now.
He reached for the keys in the ignition, and she blinked in surprise, her brows furrowing as she glanced at him.
“Joel—”
“I’ll drive,” he said, his tone final, leaving no room for argument.
His gaze flicked toward the dark trees again, the unease still crawling under his skin, but there was a steady determination in his voice now.
“I need to make sure we get outta here.”
For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes soft with concern as she studied his face.
But then she gave a small nod, understanding that he needed this—needed to feel like he was in control again.
Wordlessly, she slid over to the passenger seat, and Joel settled behind the wheel, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.
He didn’t waste any time, starting the car and pulling onto the narrow dirt road.
The tires crunched over the gravel as they drove away from the campsite, the darkness closing in around them, but Joel’s focus was sharp now.
His jaw clenched as he kept his eyes on the road, his mind still racing, still half-expecting something to jump out from the shadows.
But there was something grounding about the feel of the wheel beneath his hands, the engine rumbling under his control.
“She’s safe,” he reminded himself. “I’m getting her out.”
The thought repeated in his mind like a mantra, pushing back the lingering panic that had gripped him so tightly just moments before.
He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever.
He glanced over at her, just for a second, seeing the way she sat quietly beside him, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes flicking between him and the road.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t press him, but he could feel her presence calming him, bringing him back to the present.
But beneath the surface, the fear still simmered, the paranoia still gnawing at him.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still out there, watching, waiting. And that made his grip on the wheel tighten even more.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely loud enough for her to hear.
She glanced at him, her expression softening. “You don’t have to apologize, Joel.”
But he did. He had to apologize for putting her in danger, for not being able to protect her. He wasn’t enough, not in that moment. And that thought alone ate at him, twisting in his gut.
The road stretched out in front of them, the trees looming in the distance, and Joel’s mind remained focused, laser-sharp, as he drove them toward safety.
Toward his home.
Where he could keep an eye on her.
Where he could make sure nothing would ever hurt her.
· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··
well…. that was intense.
(she’s better than me I would’ve ran away screaming)
Horny, people - I hope you can forgive me for not having real smut in this yet.. next chapter is going to be heated, get ready - it’s finally happening.
Again - comment if you want me to remind you when there’s a next part!
xoxo
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gothgoblinbabe · 2 days
Text
Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts (pt.2)
Logan Howlett x afab!/fem reader
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Warnings: MDNI/18+, mostly porn w little plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), afab!reader, being referred to as a girl, use of pet names, very light choking, filming sex/making a sex tape, swearing, I believe that is it but if i missed any pls lmk <3 I also didn’t proofread this one as much as I usually do so forgive me for any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Summary: [based on this ask] I don’t know what to really say for this one cause I feel like the ask explains it perfectly lol, but part 1 is here if you want to read it but this also works as a stand alone thing. I did tweak a couple of things from the ask but nothing major!
Word count: 5.5K
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Since you and Logan had gotten to know each other a little better, you were over his and Wade’s apartment sometimes more than your own. He’d begun to make himself comfortable in yours too, finding himself waking up in your decorative sheets with the morning sun shining onto the pictures taped to your wall. It was a comfortable routine you’d started; waking up in each other's beds, going out to eat at some 24 hour diner when neither of you could sleep, talking with each other till the sun came up. Weekends with Wade even turned to weekends with Wade and Logan, your legs slung over your boyfriend's lap with his arm around your shoulder.
Unfortunately for him, though, you and Wade would not budge on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.
“I still don’t get it,” he grumbled next to you on the couch, quirking an eyebrow at you and his roommate, “what the hell are they famous for, anyway?”
“Well,” you began to explain, raising the remote to mute the TV, “their dad was a really famous lawyer, he defended O-”
“Nope,” Wade piped up from beside you through a mouthful of chips, “you know that’s not the real reason they’re famous, cupcake.”
You turned to narrow your eyes at him, “C’mon, you don’t mean -”
“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes flickering from you to the muted TV so he could read the subtitles without missing a beat.
“What?” Logan finally asked, clearly frustrated that neither of you would clue him in.
You sighed, rolling your eyes and laughing a bit to yourself, “Okay, so, Kim? The main sister?”
He nodded, “the one with the huge -”
“Yes, her.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay, she used to date this singer Ray J and in the early two thousands, they made a sex tape. It got leaked somehow and she kinda shot into fame and I guess her family followed,” you explained simply.
“You should show him the tape,” Wade chimed in again, taking the remote from your lap and unmuting the TV.
“Jesus, I’m not gonna do that,” you shook your head, “I don’t think he’d wanna see it.”
“You’d be right,” Logan agreed, cringing a little.
“You two should make your own, then. You can finally be famous for somethin’ else, peanut!” Wade suggested, poking at his roommate's shoulder, “plus, with a pretty girl? Man, that would blow up.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed. That was seemingly the end of the discussion, except Logan couldn’t get Wade’s words to leave his brain.
You two should make your own, then.
It stuck with him to the point that he was staring at his ceiling that night, listening to your steady breathing as you slept beside him, still unable to think of anything else. It was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ask you to do that with him. Could he?
He couldn’t shake the image of you on the screen of some camera, your back to his chest as he fucked you from behind and you batted your pretty eyes at the lens. He’d never let another soul see it, it would be something just between the two of you - something he’d definitely keep to watch a million times over. He looked around his apartment the next day after you'd gone to work to see if maybe Wade had an old camera somewhere - one he wouldn’t miss if he never saw it again. He dug out a silver camcorder from the junk drawer in the kitchen, turning it over in his hands. It looked like one you’d find on a shelf in a radioshack - when they were still around - something you’d use to film a kid’s high school graduation in the mid two thousands. As long as it worked, it would do. He fumbled the thing open, pressing a couple buttons before the screen finally lit up and gave him the option to look through the album. There were only three things on there - a blurry picture of Wade’s shoes, an even blurrier picture of half of his face and a twelve second video of him trying to film Logan while he swatted the camera out of his hands and onto the floor.
He found a charger and hooked it up to the wall, already thinking over how exactly he was going to approach the subject with you. If he was going to be able to do what he’d been thinking about, that camera had to be charged to last for at least a couple of hours. He’d planned to stay the night at your place and figured he’d try to work up the nerve to ask then.
He found himself on your couch later that night, his thighs spread while you sat in his lap and played with his hair. He was leaving kisses down your throat, his hands on the sides of your thighs.
“Can I ask you somethin’, sweetheart?” he mumbled into your skin. He pulled his face away to look into your eyes.
“Hm?” you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.
He almost felt dirty for what he was about to ask of you - like he was perverted for even considering it when you looked at him so sweetly.
His eyes moved from your face to his jacket laying beside him and he reached into the pocket, pulling out the small camera.
“I kinda wanted to try somethin’ a little different.”
Your lips parted when you realized what he was holding, eyes flickering from the device to his face. He watched your lips curl up into a smile. You knew instantly what he was about to ask when you remembered your conversation from the night before.
“You wanna film a sex tape?”
He swallowed hard, fearful that you were about to scoff and lift yourself off him. Instead, you rested your hand over his that held the camera, “I wonder where you got that idea.”
You took it from his hand, flipping it open and turning it on. You held it up and hit record, smirking when he rolled his eyes at you.
“I didn’t say I wanted my face all in it,” he scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips.
“What, you think I’m gonna let you only film me?” you pulled the camera from your face, quirking an eyebrow at him, “uh-uh, babe. If this is gonna be our sex tape, I want you in it.”
He huffed, glaring at you through the lens.
“Besides,” you continued, “you’re acting like you're the only one who's gonna like it.”
“So, you’re not upset that I asked?”
You shook your head, “Upset that a hot guy asked to film himself screwing my brains out? Hell no.”
He gnawed at his bottom lip and watched you fiddle with the camera, clicking through settings and trying out filters. Screw your brains out, huh? He could do that. He wouldn't admit it even if you asked, but he was turned on beyond belief from the idea that you’d watch it when he wasn’t with you - he liked the idea of putting on a performance for you, giving you what you want so you’d stuff the little vibrator you kept in the drawer of your nightstand inside your aching pussy when you watched it back, your eyes trained on his face and remembering how good he’d made you feel.
“It’s kind of an older camera,” Logan began, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, “maybe we should test it out, see if it works?”
“Oh, should we?”
He stood up in seconds, his strong arms holding you up by your thighs as he carried you to your room. You giggled, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You held the camera up to film yourself. Your face was in frame, Logan only visible by the back of his head as you stretched your arm out.
“This is my very sexy boyfriend, taking me to bed,” you narrated, kissing the side of his face.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck as he nudged your door open with his foot. He dropped you onto the bed and you kept the camera trained on him as he crawled over you.
“You’re gonna keep that damn thing on my face the whole time?” 
He leaned over you with his hands on either side of your head, his bulging muscles even more prominent from your angle underneath him. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, licking over his lips. You wouldn’t mind if the whole video was just from this angle.
“You look fucking hot.”
He was a little taken back by your compliment. Even after months of sleeping together, he still wasn’t used to the praise, dismissing you with a scoff or simply hiding his red face.
“Look who’s talkin’.”
Logan snatched the camera from your hands in one quick swipe, sitting back on his heels so he could get all of you in frame. You sat up, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere off the bed, leaving you in your bra and jeans. You looked angelic underneath him with your hair spread around your head like a halo, your chest heaving in excitement. You bit your lip and grabbed the end of his shirt to pull him closer to you, lidded eyes staring up at him.
“Fuck.”
He groaned, letting you pull him down and slip your tongue into his mouth. He haphazardly placed the camera on your bedside table, glancing at it momentarily to make sure it was on before diving back onto you.
His hands slid up your back and under the band of your bra. He unhooked the clasp and pushed the straps down your shoulders, pulling the garment from your chest and licking his lips in awe. It didn’t matter how often he saw you naked; each time was like the first.
His mouth latched onto your chest almost immediately, swirling his tongue and sucking in a way that elicited a moan from your lips. Your back arched and he hooked his arm around your waist to pull you as close as possible. He was sucking dark marks into your soft skin, leaving each one shiny with his saliva. If there was one thing you were sure of with Logan, it was that he really loved being messy when he toyed with you.
He dragged his lips from your chest down your waistband, leaving tender kisses on your stomach and sides. Over time, he’d slowly gotten more affectionate - more loving and emotional - during sex. He always showed it the best he could, but he was clearly becoming more comfortable being vulnerable with you. He still had his animalistic and rough ways about him, but now it was combined with soft kisses to your nose and forehead, mumbled praises into your mouth and declarations of love while you panted from the pace of his thrusts. 
Logan stopped at the waistband of your jeans, his fingers popping the metal button with little hesitation. You wordlessly lifted your hips for him to drag them down your thighs, leaving you only in your panties. He leaned over to grab the camera from the table, leaning back a bit to get you in frame.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he huffed, his free hand immediately sliding between your thighs to graze his fingers against the damp fabric, “all for me?”
You nodded, hooded eyes and parted lips posing for the camera, “yours, all yours.”
Logan was chewing on his bottom lip while he admired you from behind the camera. He knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever been with; none of those dirty magazines or tapes he’d seen over the years could even compare to what was in front of him now. You were positively heavenly, a type of beauty so alluring that it bordered being otherworldly. 
He finally used his free hand to remove your panties when you lifted your hips, set on recording as much as he could from the perspective he had because fuck, it was a good one.
Laying in front of him - completely bare - with the camera focused on you made you feel vulnerable and a little shy and Logan was always able to read you.
He wanted to focus on you even more, but he instead handed the device over to you when he sensed your mild discomfort, the lens facing him.
“Here,” was all he said, letting you bring the camera up to your eye before he tugged his t-shirt over his head. He knew you clearly enjoyed filming him and even if he didn’t love the idea of being the object of attention, he wanted you to be comfortable and he’d sacrifice his own comfort for you any day. So, once he was shirtless, he stood off the bed in front of you to strip himself of his jeans and boxers, letting his hard cock spring up to hit his stomach when he took off the latter.
You had - fortunately for you - figured out the zoom option on the camera and used it to perfectly frame his leaking cock as the only thing in the shot, bobbing when he moved towards you to take the device back. When he did, he set it on the table next to the bed, messing with the same zoom option so that the shot was of you sitting up with your legs spread and your cunt aching to be touched.
Settling himself on his stomach between your legs, he hiked your thighs onto his shoulder, his mouth inches from your heat.
“Do me a favor, sweetheart,” he began and you nodded, ready to agree to anything he asked of you, “be as loud as you can, yeah? Wanna be able to hear ya’ on tape.”
He instantly delved his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tenderly rested your hands on his arms that were hooked around your thighs as if you were encouraging him to stay there.
He ate you every time like he was starving, his cheeks and chin always slick with saliva and sap from between your legs when he finally pulled himself off you.
You did as he instructed - though, you were probably going to do it anyway - moaning openly as he licked stripes up your dripping cunt so he could circle his tongue around your clit. 
“Oh my god,” you whined, your thighs clamping around his head out of instinct. He let you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands to help angle his head and making him growl with his mouth still suctioned to you.
You felt around beside you for the camera, fumbling with it till you had the lens angled at him in between your legs.
“Fuck, L-Logan,” you panted, lovingly caressing his temple with your free hand.
“Mhm,” he hummed into you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat, “you like holding that thing, huh?”
Your eyes were glued to his through the small screen.
“You’re so fucking hot, of course I do,” you sighed, your lips parted and chest heaving.
He scoffed in amusement, continuing to slip his tongue between your folds and prod at your entrance. With his face still buried in you and his eyes closed in concentration, he took the camera from you and set it back on the table. He used his arms around your thighs to yank you further down the bed so you were flat on your back. You watched in awe as he spat a mouthful of saliva right onto your already soaked pussy, using his fingers to swipe his spit all over you. Latching his lips back onto your clit, he easily slipped two of his digits into you, feverishly pumping in and out. Your moans grew louder with each thrust of his fingers, echoing off your walls along with the wet noises that came from your soaked cunt. 
“You’re such a good girl for me, lettin’ me eat your pretty pussy,” he rambled, voice muffled by your thighs, “always so fuckin’ good.”
You inhaled sharply when he gently rolled your clit between his teeth, licking after like a balm to soothe the searing sensation. You thought you couldn’t moan any louder until he replaced his fingers inside you with his tongue, angling his mouth in a way that made his nose nudge your bundle of nerves.
“Only good for you,” you managed to choke out, turning your head to the side to bury it in your pillow, “only for you.”
His hand slid up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He slid it up even further to grab your chin and turn your head so you were forced to look at him. 
“Eyes on me, baby,” he grumbled.
“Ah - uh-huh,” you tried to make some noise of agreement but were overwhelmed with how he was expertly tracing your cunt with his tongue.
Until he detached his mouth from you completely.
You groaned in frustration and knitted your eyebrows, silently asking why he stopped.
“Use your words or I’ll stop. Ya’ got it?”
His stern voice sent shivers down your spine. 
“Yes, baby, please -“
His tongue was already back in between your folds by the time you said yes. He kept his vice like grip around your thighs, deciding he’d be content if he died right there with his head between your legs.
“Love when you - when you - fuck - eat me out,” you panted, “you make me feel so good.”
You knew how much he secretly loved the praise, catching the way he ground his hips into the mattress to find some sort of relief whenever you told him he was doing a good job, that he was so handsome, that you loved what he was doing to you. He was usually the dominant one in the relationship, whispering praises in your ear while you were underneath him, but you knew him well enough by now to have figured out that he loved when you did it back.
“You’re perfect, Logan, I - ah - I love you,” you gasped when his fingers pumped back into you.
It wasn’t all about sex with you two - though it was a wonderful part of your relationship - and yet he’d discovered that he’d never felt more loved than he had when he was with you, declaring your love for him while he completely devoted himself to you with his face in your pussy. 
“I love you, too, pretty girl,” he grunted, “love fuckin’ you with my mouth.”
His filthy words fueled the fire building in your lower stomach and you tugged at his hair in an attempt to warn him.
“ ‘m gonna come,” you slurred, ankles locked on Logan’s back to keep him in place.
“Come for me, beautiful, c’mon,” he coaxed while his fingers abused the spot inside of you that made you whimper to encourage him to keep going, “want it all, want you to come on my face.”
That was definitely what sent you over the edge, mumbling unintelligible praises as he lapped up anything that had spilled out of you and onto his tongue. 
“Tastes so damn good,” he heaved, his fingers still working at a consistent pace, “I think I can pull another one outta you.”
You felt tears beginning to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, crying out when he grazed your swollen clit with his teeth.
“ ‘s too - too much,” you tried to pull his head away by tugging his hair, to no avail. 
He’d let you go, but not without one more taste of you.
It only took a couple more flicks of his tongue to have you arching your back, tears rolling down the sides of your face as you gushed around his fingers for a second time.
When he finally slipped his fingers out of you and he’d left the comfortable spot between your warm thighs, you could see that his entire lower face was almost completely slick with a mix of his spit and your cum. He was licking his lips, trying to savor the taste of you but making no attempt to wipe anything off his chin or cheeks. He was in love with you but he was also in love with the reality that he got to do this to you, that he got to taste every bit, that you wanted him to. You sat up to give him a desperate kiss - a clash of tongues and teeth that tasted entirely of you. You finally pulled away to admire his face.
Seeing him with his hair disheveled from your repeated tugging, his lips near swollen and raw and his cheeks still shining made you crave the idea of returning the favor. 
“Sit on the edge of the bed, baby.”
Though he was usually the one giving orders instead of following them, he obliged anyway. His cock was still leaking in anticipation, hard against his stomach. When you got down on your knees in front of him, he couldn’t hide the excited smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never expected you to return the favor when he used his mouth on you - content with that being a reward itself - but when you did? You usually left him shaking.
You took the camera from the table and handed it up to Logan, eager eyes following the lens.
“Can I suck your cock? Please?”
You knew he loved it when you begged and you always used it to get him exactly where you wanted him, especially when you looked up at him with those pleading eyes.
“Go ahead, baby,” he used his free hand to loosely hold your hair back in his fist, “I know you like havin’ it in your mouth, huh?”
You nodded eagerly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft. You hovered your mouth over his tip, letting a glob of spit drip from your lips so you could coat his cock in it before you tried to take him in your throat. You’d done it before, but he was huge and every time you tried to prep to make it easier. Your jaw even became sore sometimes from how wide you’d have to keep your mouth open. You never complained, though, because the mere idea of having the weight of Logan’s heavy cock in your mouth was enough to make you drool.
You spread your saliva up and down, leaning forward and dragging his tip across your parted lips while staring up at the lens of the camera.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, focused on you through the small screen, “such a fucking tease.”
You grinned, placing a light kiss on his tip before engulfing him into your mouth, tongue sliding along his slit to taste the small amount of precum that’d dripped from him when he first sat up. You suctioned and began to work up a pace, taking him as far as you could into your mouth while your hand stroked the rest of him.
“I love giving you head,” you admitted in the most sultry way possible when you popped your lips off his tip, long lashes batting up at him. It wasn’t a lie, either, and that was clear by how sloppy you loved to be whenever it was your turn to be on your knees. If you had at least one thing in common, it was that you wanted to worship each other as much as possible. You wanted to leave him in a state of euphoria the same way he did you, just as messily dedicated to making sure he came.
“Yeah? I can tell, sweetheart,” he still held the camera but his eyes were trained on your face, “such a good girl, sucking my cock like you were made for it.”
You tried to push him further into your throat, eager to see his thighs shake and hear him groan your name. You gagged on his tip and he inadvertently rolled his hips. You hummed, eyes starting to water every time you choked on his dick. You used your free hand to cup his balls and smeared your saliva down from the base of his cock to coat them. You pulled yourself off his mouth momentarily to spit on him again, licking your lips in excitement.
“Fuck’s sake,” he grunted, camera abandoned on the side of the bed so he could place both his hands on the back of your head, “doin’ so fucking good, princess.”
You continued to stroke him with one hand and massage his balls in the other, your tongue still swirling and sucking around him. You popped off him with a smile, spit covering your lips and chin while your hands continued their motion.
Logan leaned back on his elbows and held the camera up again with one hand. When you wrapped your lips around his cock again, he started to roll his hips at a steady pace so he could fuck your throat, grunting every time you gagged around him. 
You picked up your pace, stroking his base while your head bobbed up and down in synch with your hand.
“Atta girl,” he panted, “jus’ like that.”
You could tell he was already close because he was sloppily rocking his hips up into your mouth, his thighs beginning to shake every time he hit the back of your throat. He sat up suddenly, grabbing your hair again to slowly pull you off his cock.
“On the bed, hands and knees,” he instructed simply, letting you scramble onto the mattress as he set up the camera on the end of your bed. You understood almost instantly what he wanted, biting back a smile as you laid your chest flat on the mattress, back arched with your ass in the air. 
He climbed behind you and placed his knees on the inside of yours to push your legs apart even further. His large hands gripped your hips and he pulled you against him, his hard cock prodding your entrance. He leaned his body over yours so that your back was flush with his chest.
“I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy like you deserve,” he muttered into your ear, intoxicating you with the feeling of his hot breath fanning the side of your face, “think you can take it, sweetheart?”
You nodded eagerly and gasped when he dragged the tip of his cock along the folds of your dripping cunt.
“Can take it - I want it so bad, Logan,” you pleaded, pushing back into him. Your eyes bore into the camera, lips parted. It was his idea for a sex tape after all, you might as well be sure to give him a show.
He sheathed himself into you completely in one thrust with an iron grip on your hips, the weight of him pushing into you almost knocking the wind out of your lungs. He began to slowly inch himself out and slam back in again, pulling out a little further each time. He was grunting into the back of your neck while he rocked his hips. 
“Takin’ it so good, baby,” he panted, one of his hands moving to your neck and barely applying pressure while the other held his upper body above yours. His lips came to the side of your face and left a kiss so sweet that it could’ve rotted your teeth.
You whimpered when he worked up to a steady pace and reveled in the sensation of him filling you completely. Your fingers gripped the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto so you could stable yourself when his hard thrusts nearly knocked you over completely.
“S-so fucking - ah - so good,” you slurred your words with your eyes squeezed shut. You were slack jawed, nearly drooling.
“Yeah? Can tell you like it,” he huffed, “you’re so pretty, takin’ all of me like a good girl.”
You nodded frantically, whimpering every time he slammed into you.
“You like bein’ on camera, don’t you?” he continued, “you’re really fucking wet.”
You could only moan in response. You were soaking around him, drenching the base of his cock and the happy trail that went up to his stomach. He leaned back on his knees and his pace never faltered. 
Your hands outstretched in front of you and you grabbed the camera. You angled it over your shoulder and focused the lens on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
He scoffed when he noticed the camera over your shoulder, keeping his rhythm while his eyes were glued to the lens. If he thought too hard about what you might do with the video later, he wasn’t going to last much longer. 
“Feels good, baby?” you panted, an amused smile creeping onto your face.
He was always the one to talk to you like that - pet names and filthy encouragement - but you wanted to get his face on film when you teased him back - or, at least tried to. 
His expression mirrored yours and he grabbed the camera while his other hand kept an iron grip on your hip.
“I think you like holdin’ that thing a little too much,” he brought it up to his face and squinted at you through the screen.
“Mm,” you hummed, your face flushed and body sticky with sweat, “can’t help it.”
“You look fuckin’ gorgeous like this, you know that? God,” he sighed, “can’t get enough of you.”
You would’ve found his words endearing if you could even process them. The intoxicating feeling every time he pushed back into you was enough to render you speechless.
Logan angled the camera down to film the repeated motion, gaping at the mess you left around the base of him every time he pulled back.
“My dirty girl,” he cooed, “you like makin’ a mess on my cock?”
“F-Fuck - yes, yes,” you sobbed before he even finished his sentence. You could feel the pressure building in your stomach, bringing you closer to finishing.
“C’mon, sweetheart, I can feel you gettin’ tighter. Come for me, baby,” he grunted, his hand sliding from your hip to grip your ass.
It only took a few more strokes for you to do exactly that with your legs shaking underneath you. 
“ ‘Atta girl,” he growled. He watched you gush around him, zooming in on your dripping pussy as he stretched you out over and over again. You were chanting his name, muttering unintelligible praises against your sheets.
It wasn’t long before he followed suit, his pace becoming sloppy as he spilled into you and let it drip down your thighs. He clicked off the camera and tossed it somewhere else onto the bed. 
“C’mere,” he huffed, pulling you up to lean back against him, “love you so much.” He was leaving saccharine kisses from your ear down to your shoulder, still panting.
“I love you, too,” you managed to say with your eyes already half closed. He pulled out and laid you on your side, grabbing some t-shirt that had been next to the bed to clean you up. He wrapped you in his arms from behind and pulled up the comforter to cover you both.
“Can’t wait to watch that back,” he mumbled into your neck.
“Mhm,” you were already drifting off to sleep while he stroked your hair, “me neither.”
Logan fell asleep right after you with his arms still around you and his legs tangled in yours.
—-----------------------------------
Later that same week, you sat on the couch beside Logan in his apartment, flipping through TV channels on a lazy day off. Wade emerged from his bedroom and began frantically tearing apart the kitchen.
“What are you looking for?” you called, turning in your seat.
“My old camera. Have you seen it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
You thought you hadn’t, at least. You had know idea the camera Logan brought over was Wade’s.
He was pretending to be uninterested in the conversation, hoping his apathy towards the question would absolve him of any suspicion.
You shrugged and returned your attention to the TV. You heard a couple doors open and close before Wade’s voice echoed through the apartment.
“Found it!”
Logan went wide eyed and immediately stood up from the couch. 
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and looked between him and Wade when he came back into the living room.
And then you recognized the camera in his hands.
“Don’t open it, I’ll buy you a new one,” Logan insisted simply, holding out his hand.
“Oh, my god,” you muttered.
Wade's eyes flickered between you both.
“There’s something on here I’m not supposed to see, isn’t there?”
Logan immediately lunged for the camera and Wade sprinted into his bedroom, slamming his door shut and locking it. Logan pounded his fist on the door and tugged the doorknob.
“Open the door, you son of a bitch!”
You buried your face into the fabric of the couch cushion, anticipating the embarrassment of Wade seeing what was still on that camera.
He opened the door after a minute, giant smile plastered on his face.
“Here you go,” he said in a sing song voice as he handed it over.
You sighed in relief, assuming he’d decided to actually abide by your requests. He closed his bedroom door, only speaking again after you heard the lock click.
“Hey, by the way - can i get a copy?”
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A/N: I struggled a lil bit w this one just bc of writers block but I hope it lived up to expectations <3 pls interact if you enjoyed!
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dumblilb · 2 days
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I Could Be Enough
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Vi x Fem!Reader
(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)
(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)
(Requested: yes)
(Words: 1,585)
* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。
You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.
But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.
But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.
“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.
“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.
“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.
So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.
But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.
But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.
So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.
“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.
“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.
“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.
“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.
“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.
She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.
“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.
You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.
“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.
“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.
“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.
“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.
She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.
Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.
“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.
“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.
With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.
“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.
“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.
“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.
“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”
You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.
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Crash Course
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Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
Word count: 798
Pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader
Summary: As Y/n recovers from her injuries, an unexpected visit from Lando leads to a heartfelt confession, shifting their relationship from fierce rivalry to the possibility of something more
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Y/n lay on the medical bed, her side wrapped in gauze, the sharp sting of the injury finally dulled by painkillers. The medical team had assured her it wasn’t anything too serious—just a few cracked ribs and a deep cut from the impact. She'd be back in the car soon enough. But as she stared up at the ceiling, her mind wasn’t on the injury.
It was on Lando.
The way he had looked at her, the worry in his eyes, the unexpected softness in his voice—it all played on repeat in her head. She had spent months thinking of him as nothing more than a rival, someone she needed to beat, someone who annoyed her with his smug attitude and relentless determination. But now, the walls between them seemed to have crumbled in a matter of moments.
The door to the room creaked open, and Y/n instinctively tensed, expecting a doctor. Instead, Lando slipped in, quiet and cautious. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by an expression she barely recognized—concern, maybe even something more.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low as he moved to stand beside her bed.
Y/n forced a smile, trying to play off the awkwardness that had settled between them. “I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.”
Lando’s lips twitched upward in a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked down at her for a long moment, like he was wrestling with something, then pulled up a chair, sitting beside her bed.
“Listen, Y/n… about earlier—” he began, but Y/n cut him off, shifting slightly to sit up straighter despite the protest from her ribs.
“You don’t have to explain anything,” she said quickly. “We both screwed up. I was pushing too hard. We crashed. End of story.”
“It’s not just about the crash,” Lando said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His voice was steady, but his eyes flicked nervously to hers. “I was angry, sure, but… when you nearly collapsed like that—” He hesitated, his gaze softening. “It scared me. More than I thought it would.”
Y/n stared at him, her chest tightening—not from the pain, but from the weight of his words. This was the Lando she had never seen, the one behind the constant rivalry and playful arrogance.
“I didn’t realize I was hurt,” she admitted quietly. “The adrenaline… I just wanted to get to you and tell you off.” She tried to laugh, but it came out weak and half-hearted.
Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured. You always have something to say.”
She looked down, avoiding his eyes for a moment. “You said you don’t hate me,” she whispered. “But… all we’ve ever done is fight.”
Lando let out a slow breath, leaning back in the chair, his gaze never leaving her face. “That’s because I didn’t know how else to deal with it. With you. I wanted to win, to prove I could beat you, but… I also didn’t want to admit how much I admired you.”
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “Admired me?”
Lando shrugged, his expression softening. “You’re fierce, Y/n. You fight for every inch on track. You don’t back down, not from anyone—not even me. It drove me crazy because, deep down, I knew I liked it. Liked you.”
For a moment, the room fell into silence, the weight of his confession settling between them. Y/n searched his face, trying to find any hint of mockery, but all she saw was honesty. It was disarming.
“I’ve been so focused on beating you,” Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I never stopped to think about anything else.”
Lando leaned closer, his voice soft but intense. “Maybe we should start thinking about something else.”
Y/n’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and in that instant, the tension between them shifted. It was no longer fueled by competition or rivalry, but by something deeper, something that had been building beneath the surface for far longer than either of them had realized.
Before she could say anything, the door creaked open again, and a nurse stepped in, breaking the moment.
“I’m sorry, but we need to check on the patient,” the nurse said kindly, though her presence felt like a bucket of cold water over the moment.
Lando stood, nodding to the nurse before turning back to Y/n. “I’ll… I’ll check on you later,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on hers for just a moment longer than necessary.
Y/n nodded, watching as he left the room. As the door closed behind him, she sank back into the bed, her mind reeling from everything that had just happened.
Her rival. Her competitor. And now… maybe something more.
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one order to be served by lewis carl davidson hamilton please!! oaty slice, english muffin, apple turnover and croissant with a side of tea, cider and pina colada 😁😁 reader is working remotely and having an online meeting but lewis is dying to eat her out and just do it while she was in the meeting 🥵💦
irresistible
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, i think this may be my longest story yet, i have been dying to write this and get back to writing after being gone so long, i hate promising to post and then not being able to cause of work, sorry for the late reply <3 your requested prompts will be bolded
pairing; husband lewis hamilton x female wife reader
blurb; working from home while trying to hide the fact that your married and pregnant is hard when your husband can't keep is hands to himself, he's just lucky you love him aka lewis eats his wife out while she's on a zoom call
warnings; oral fem!receiving, thigh kisses, belly kisses, semi public sex, body worship, pregnancy kink. [let me know if i missed anything]
tea; semi public sex cider; body worship pina colada; pregnancy oaty slice; "you smell like me" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" apple turnover; "can you keep it down in there" changed to "can you keep it down under there" croissant; "don't you dare"
words; 3.1k
currently playing; hands to myself by selena gomez "can't keep my hands to myself, no matter how hard i'm trying to"
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"oh god dammit, boba no!" you scolded your two year old calico who sat on the stool next to your laptop, swatting at the screensaver you had set, picking her up you stepped out of the little home studio you'd made for yourself during the covid days.
"lew!" you called out waiting for an answer but after not getting one, you wandered down the hall and into the living room, as you carried boba into the living room, she squirmed in your arms, clearly displeased at being removed from her new favorite perch, you sighed, scratching behind her ears to relax her "i know, i know the pretty lights are fun, but mommy needs to work."
as you entered the living room, you noticed lewis sprawled out on the couch, completely engrossed in whatever he was watching on his phone. you rolled your eyes fondly, a soft smile decorating your face as you realized why he hadn't answered your call.
"lew..." still no response as his eyes remained trained on his phone "lewis hamilton" you scolded and that caught his attention immediately, looking up at you with soft eyes as he dropped his phone.
"am i in trouble.." he gulped, looking sheepish as he responded.
"not yet," you said, your tone softening as you took in his worried expression. "but you will be if you don't start paying attention."
you merely dropped boba onto his lap and crossed your arms over your chest "please keep her out of my studio... the album is due at the end of the month and i still have three songs to finish" you groaned.
he nodded numbly which made you feel guilty for scolding him over something so silly and so you lent down and placed little kisses against his lips "i'm sorry i called you lewis" you mumbled as your thumb gently traced over his cheek. "you'll always be my lew"
you left him on the sofa, shuffling to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge but before you could move and return to your studio, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, cradling your pregnant belly lightly.
"you smell like me bub" lewis mumbled into the skin of your neck, which sent shivers zipping up and down your spine.
you leaned back into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. a soft smile played on your lips as you placed your hands over his, intertwining your fingers.
"i should hope so," you murmured, turning your head slightly to catch his eye, resting it on his shoulder. "i've been wearing your sweater all day."
he chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. "i noticed," he said, his arm tightening around you. "it looks incredible on you."
"well i unfortunately have to take it off soon" you groaned "stupid zoom meeting with my producer"
lewis sighed, running his fingers over your bump, the soft fabric of his over sized sweater rubbing on your skin gently. "can't you just keep it on for the meeting?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
you shook your head, a wry smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "not unless i want to explain to my producer why i'm wearing 'the' lewis hamilton's sweater" you giggled.
lewis chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "but i'd love to see see his reaction." his voice dropped into a whisper, your producer had always been flirty with you mainly because he thought you were single and lewis hated it.
you playfully swatted his arm, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his proximity and tone of voice. "that's horrible lew"
"i hate the way he flirts with you, your mine" he growled against the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising on your skin. "and this proves it" his finger ran over the cold metal of your wedding band.
"your lucky i love you lew, your so possessive and you and i both know you like keeping this private, i like it being just us" you giggled, removing yourself from his grip, pulling his sweater up and over your head, placing it on the counter.
you stood on your tippy toes to peck his lips "love you, i should go" and with that you made your way back to your studio, almost waddling due to the size of your belly.
as you walked, lewis couldn't help but admire you in your white floral maternity dress, he couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in his belly or resist the surge of desire that simmered within him.
lewis had always found you irresistible but now that you were pregnant he could hardly ever keep his hands to himself anymore, working on your newest album was the only break you got from his ever wandering hands.
but unfortunately for you, it seemed that not even that would be enough to stop lewis anymore, he made his way to your home studio, feet padding on the hardwood floors as he went.
you wouldn't have even known that lewis was there, leaning against the door-frame had he not accidentally bumped the door causing the hinges to squeak.
"what are you doing lew" you mumbled, taking your seat in front of your mic, lewis didn't answer your question, he merely wandered over and dropped to his knees in front of you.
his head rested in your lap, hands holding your hips as he placed kisses to your swollen belly, each of them filled with love and a gentleness that only lewis had ever shown you, it was part of the reason you'd fallen for him.
"want to taste you bub" his words were mumbled but you understood him well enough, you shook your head "don't you dare even think about it" you softly scolded, hand cupping his cheek.
but lewis wasn't in the mood to listen, he wanted to taste you and he had to do it now, the desire simmering within him was pushing him to do so, you were beautiful and he just couldn't get enough of you.
his hands trailed up your thighs, his touch feather light and making a pool of desire simmer in your own belly or was that just the baby getting hungry again, most likely the latter you thought as a giggle escaped your soft lips.
"why do i even bother" you murmured as his fingers started pulling at the band of your panties, eager to get them off and thrown into the nearest corner as soon as humanly possible.
you lifted your hips knowing if you didn't that lewis would simply rip them off you and you couldn't afford to be down yet another pair of panties all because your husband couldn't keep his hands to himself.
you watched as his head disappeared under the skirts of your dress, hands gently parting your thighs to get a better look at your dripping cunt, the way this man could affect you so easily.
he nuzzled against the soft skin of your thigh, you started to get lost in the feeling when the facetime ringtone rang out through the room causing you to jump in your seat, you were so distracted by your god of a husband that you'd basically forgotten you were meant to be facetiming your producer.
"can you keep it down under there" you asked lewis and when he hummed against your skin, you trusted him, bad choice might i say and adjusted your laptop so that both lewis and your belly were out of view before clicking 'accept call'.
"there's the star i know and love" your producer; thomas's voice rang out, you glanced at the screen and smiled as best you could, with lewis currently between your legs, the last thing you wanted to be doing right now was talking to thomas.
"hey tom" you mumbled, voice quiet in order to keep yourself from moaning as lewis kissed at your thighs, slowly inching his way towards your dripping wet cunt with every kiss.
thomas began to ramble about the new album and the last three songs that were needed and while you tried your best to listen, your focus was quickly pulled away from the computer screen and was put into staying quiet when lewis's tongue licked your cunt from bottom to top, nibbling on your clit which he knew would make you squirm.
you nibbled on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your composure as lewis worked his magic between your thighs. you could have sworn you could taste the metallic tang of blood from how hard you were gnawing on your bottom lip in that moment.
thomas's voice began to fade into a distant buzz in your ears. your fingers gripped at the arms of your chair, knuckles turning white as you fought the urge to moan.
lewis's hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. the thrill of potentially being caught only heightened your arousal. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body betraying your attempts to appear normal.
"taste so good" you heard lewis's mumbled voice and if you weren't so focused on trying to remain quiet and not draw attention to what was really going on, on your side of the screen you would've smacked him round the head.
thomas's face on the screen remained oblivious, still chattering away about chord progressions and potential guest artists. "what about olivia, we've been wanting to work together for awhile" you suggested when you managed to calm yourself enough to speak, your suggestion set thomas off on another tangent.
'good' you thought, that should hopefully keep him distracted for a while but you were once again pulled from your thoughts when lewis's tongue swirled around your most sensitive spots, making your thighs tremble around his head.
you were struggling to maintain your composure as lewis continued his ministrations. thomas's voice once again fading into a distant buzz as pleasure coursed through your body.
"that's actually a great idea," you managed to catch thomas say. "maybe we could arrange a writing session next week?" he suggested to which you merely nodded in return.
lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of your chair, the new angle sent a jolt of electricity up your spine, and you had to disguise the gasp that escaped you as a cough.
"everything okay?" thomas asked, his brow furrowing with concern, he was always concerned when it came to you, sometimes a little too much for lewis's liking.
"peachy" you squeaked, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "just recovering from a bit of a dry throat" you lied, reaching for your water bottle to make it seem real.
lewis's hands tightened on your thighs, he was going to leave bruises that was for sure but knowing your husband as well as you did, he would also make sure to kiss them better because he hated hurting you, even when you insisted you were fine.
you knew you were completely fucked however the moment you felt lewis's tongue slip inside your cunt, desperate to taste every bit of you that he could.
your breath caught in your throat as lewis's tongue explored you hungrily. every flick and swirl sending shock waves of pleasure radiating through your body, your hips began to involuntarily move against his face the best they could with your rounded swollen belly in the way, thank god it was still hidden from the cameras view.
"oh god, bub" you moaned softly, your head thrown back in ecstasy.
he growled quietly in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations you were currently feeling. lewis's strong hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he devoured you with single-minded focus, you were his top priority in this moment and his focus would remain entirely on you, until you tipped over the edge of your release.
wave after wave of bliss washed over you as lewis worked you expertly with his mouth, you could feel yourself getting close, teetering on the edge of release, just a little more...
"ah y/n, you still with me" holy fuck!, you'd completely forgotten about your producer currently working on a melody on his side of the computer screen, thomas was the most oblivius man you'd ever known and today it was working in your favor.
the fact that he somehow hadn't noticed what was going on almost made you laugh, you bit your lip hard to stop yet another soft moan from slipping past your lips and despite everything that was happening, you somehow managed to croak out a reply to thomas.
"y-yeah, just concentrating," you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady, thomas nodded absentmindedly, completely focused on the track he was currently mixing. "what do you think of this bassline?" he asked, pressing play.
a pulsing beat filled the room, providing the perfect cover as lewis picked up his efforts, he wanted thomas to know what was going on but you were not about to let that happen, not on your watch.
"it's good," you gasped out "maybe try... ah speeding it up a bit?"
as thomas began to fiddle with the tempo, you felt yourself rapidly approaching the point of no return, lewis's skilled tongue was soon joined by his equally skilled fingers slipping inside your tight hot cunt as his mouth started to suck and nibble on your clit.
all the emotions and sensations that you were feeling was making your head dizzy, you wanted to end the call with thomas right then and there so that you could focus on lewis and lewis alone but you knew that, that wasn't about to happen unfortunately.
as lewis's movements intensified, you were struggling to maintain your composure, your breath quickened as you fingers tangled in the fabric of your dress skirt and hiked it up and around your hips.
as you did lewis looked up at you with mischievous eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pleasurable spongy spot inside you as his tongue flicked rapidly over your sensitive bud, you swore you could feel lewis smile agaisnt you.
"is everything alright?" thomas asked, finally beginning to notice how quiet you were being on this call compared to all the other video calls you'd shared over these past few months.
"ah.. actually no" you stammered out. "i think i might be coming down with something" you lied to thomas for a second time today.
lewis increased his pace, determined to push you over the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you were going to be able to hold on.
your breath hitched as you tried to maintain your composure, thomas's concerned voice crackled through the phone, "do you need to rest? we can talk later if you're not feeling well."
"n-no, it's okay," you managed to mutter, lewis's fingers dug into your thighs, his tongue and finger's relentless rhythm threatening to unravel you completely.
"are you sure?" thomas pressed, clearly unconvinced. "you sound... strange." panic fluttered in your chest. you couldn't let him suspect what was really happening. "i'm fine, really," you insisted, your voice strained. "just a bit of a headache." you reached for your water once more.
lewis pulled away from your cunt, his fingers slipping out of your warm cunt as well, his breath was hot against the skin of your thighs as he whispered, "tell him you have to go” oh how you prayed thomas hadn't heard that.
you felt a shiver run down your spine at lewis's command. your mind raced, torn between the overwhelming sensations that your husband was making you feel and the need to stay on the video call with thomas and finish the album.
"actually," you gasped out, "i think i might need to lie down for a bit." you had caved, mind you with a husband like lewis, who wouldn't cave when asked.
"of course," thomas replied, his voice laced with genuine concern for you "get some rest. we can catch up tomorrow."
"thanks," you whispered, your finger moved the cursor so it was hovering over the end call button. "i'll text you later." as soon as the call disconnected, a low moan escaped your lips.
lewis looked up at you again "good girl," he murmured, his voice husky with desire for you, his beautiful wife. "now, let me hear you properly."
you finally allowed you restraint crumble and you cried out, no longer having to hide the pleasure coursing through your body. "your a fucking menace lew" you scolded your husband as he went back to work, tongue flicking across your clit with renewed fervor.
lewis chuckled against your sensitive core, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through you once more, his strong hands which you loved oh so much gripped at your thighs, holding you in place as you writhed in your seat.
"you love it," he murmured "no i love you" you replied, fingers tangling in with his twisted braids "my handsome handsome husband"
"don't you dare stop," you gasped, your voice hoarse with need, lewis redoubled his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure, he slid two fingers inside you, curling them just so and that's when you saw stars, your back arched as waves of ecstasy washed over you
"that's it, baby," lewis encouraged, your body trembled as he guided you through the aftershocks of your orgasm, his touch now feather-light and teasing, when your breathing finally steadied, he kissed a trail up your body paying special attention to your bump before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you swore you could taste yourself on his tongue.
"you're so beautiful when you come undone," he murmured pulling away his voice low and husky, his hands rubbed at your thighs soothingly "i could die between these legs" he chuckled.
"i am so going to write a song about this" you teased with a giggle, hand cupping his cheek as you stared into the brown eyes you loved so much, that could be a pretty could be an interesting way to announce your relationship you thought.
he leaned into your touch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "oh yeah? what's it gonna be called?" he asked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.
"hmm," you pondered, pretending to think hard. "how about 'the ballad of lewis's talented tongue'?" you joked.
lewis could help but burst out in laughter, burying his face in your neck, "cheeky," he mumbled against your skin, pressing a soft kiss there. "i like it though but i might have to fight you for the rights to it."
you ran your thumb across his cheek, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "we could always collaborate," you suggested, your voice softening. "i think we would make beautiful music together."
lewis lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a tender look that made your heart skip. "we already do, love,"
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sometimesanalice · 20 hours
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Call My Bluff
Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they went, only now you're starting to have a hard time ignoring it. You weren't jealous, you couldn't be. After all, they're yours- at least for now.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin
Length: 5.8k
Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)
(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)
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You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.
He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.
It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.
“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.
He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”
You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.
Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.
“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.
You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.
There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.
It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.
Really, really happy.
But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.
What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.
What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.
Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.
As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.
The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.
“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.
He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.
And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.
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You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.
The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.
You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.
You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.
“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.
You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.
Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.
Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.
The last thing you want to do is talk.
It was why you left in the first place.
You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.
Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.
Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.
“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.
Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”
You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.
What you’d thought you wanted.
Or.
Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.
You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.
Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.
There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.
And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.
You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.
Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.
Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.
“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.
You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.
“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.
You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.
“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”
“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”
You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.
Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.
And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.
This. This is what you want.
You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues.  You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.
You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.
Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.
There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.
He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.
It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.
You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.
And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”
A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.
“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.
“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.
Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”
And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.
“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.
“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.
You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.
“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.
You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.
But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.
“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.
“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.
You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”
You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.
You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”
“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.
“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”
The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.
Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.
“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.
He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.
Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.
“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”
His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.
“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.
Neither one of you are ready to fold.
You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.
Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.
Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust
“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.
But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.
You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.
This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.
“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.
“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”
You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.
“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.
Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”
“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”
You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.
“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.
“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”
The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.
“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.
“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”
Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”
“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.  
His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”
“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.
Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”
Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.
Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.  
The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.
This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.
Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.
“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”
And there it is- bullseye. 
Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.
“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder.  “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”
The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.
You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”
It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.
The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.
The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.
It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.
But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.
“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”
“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”
“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”
You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.
But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.
You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”
Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”
A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.
“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.
Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”
You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.
“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.
“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.
“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”
“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”
You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.
“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.
You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.
Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”
“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”
“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”
The answer is easy.
“Yes.”
He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”
Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.
“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.
“So I was the only one overthinking things?”
“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.
“No promises,” you sing.
Because where’s the fun in that?
“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.
“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.
You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.
And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.
That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.
Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.
Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.
Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.
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Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!
Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!
If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!
You can read more of my stories here!
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zoropookie · 24 hours
Text
SWEET MELODY
☆ chapter eighteen — bedazzled eulogy (🎂)
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The steps to the house were pretty worn out. You needed to get them fixed soon.
Your eyes fixed on that same towering oak tree that loomed beyond your home. The same branches with a more withered complexion this time, a backdrop to the countless moments you shared with your family. Even though everyone else was gone, the echo of the history stayed there. Though maybe not for much longer, anyway.
It was just a reminder to you. Maybe you didn't want to think much at all about your decisions, but considering you were getting notes from the city on suggestion to have the tree cut down for safety purposes, you were considering it. Despite how peaceful you used to feel when the leaves were whispering candidly in the wind, you couldn't hear them anyway. You were too lost in the sound of your own head screaming from the news, fighting your tears burning in your eyes.
You didn't find the tapes to work anymore. You sat there rewatching them, rewatching him in his state. A permanent staple that would stay in the tape as long as you played it. It was one of the only safe fixes you knew other than the letter, but neither were solving your aches. None of them were getting rid of what was already done.
The sky remained heavy in its thick storm forbidding the city. You thought it was pretty ironic even if it was scheduled today. Without warning, the heavens poured down quickly. You couldn't even find the chance to think about something else without the cold water soaking your clothes almost instantly, sticking to your skin. Even in this predicament, you sat still. Staying drenched and staring at the tree, glazed over eyes roaring an admonitory reminder.
You didn't know how long you were there for. Minutes, or hours, it made no difference to you. All of what you went through in order to ensure your brother was safely home for years and years, all admonished with a single phone call. It was interesting to you how bad you kept yourself in delusion. Thinking heavily that he was alive, keeping others in a lie with you that he was just away.
Your mind buzzed at a higher intensity, body sluggish but finally moving from its spot as you started mindlessly moving. You didn't think about where you were going, soaking wet and shoes mildly squelching as you wandered.
Finding yourself in front of Beidou's door yet again, except this time, the pain seethed harder. Knowing this was the same house you retrieved a piece of your brother. It wasn't mature to admit, but you were hesitant. With only a loud head of your regrets, there stood Beidou as she swung open the door. Her face shifted from confusion to alarm when she noticed your exterior.
"Why are you out here? You didn't even call...?" Beidou began, but stammered as the words fizzled on her tongue at the look in your eyes. Something was awry, something terrible.
For a moment, you stood there not knowing what to say, not even trying to find strength to look into the other's eyes. "They said it was asphyxiation."
Your voice was in a harsh whisper, hardly deciphered in the rain, but Beidou knew what you said. For a moment, she didn’t even react either. She stood there processing, hand still on the doorknob as what you said ruminated between them. The storm went quiet between the two of them, and the brunette’s disbelief broke through.
“No shit…they actually found him.” Beidou responded in disbelief, brows furrowed. Her face contorted in shock as she looked down. She stepped aside slowly, ushering you inside. “C..Come inside, alright? I can’t let you freeze.”
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THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
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erinwantstowrite · 2 days
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Everything is all fun and games posting about LoF on TikTok until someone drops this on me
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I THINK ABOUT BABY PETER AND HIS VISION EVERYDAY…
I get videos of babies seeing their parents clearly for the first time and I think. Does Peter even remember that moment if it did happen.
Like yeah the memory of what someone looks like fades over time that’s just how memory works but IF HE DIDNFT KNOW WHAJT THEYI LOOKED LIKEJ PROPERLY IN THE FIRST PLACE………………………
Imagining itsybitsy Peter being like oh yeah blurry blob specifically like that oh yeah dad shaped 100% then he’s suddenly crystal clear and for a bit it’s like who the hell??? Cause that’s not blurry blob but everything else is correct ohh yeah that is for sure dad THATS HIS DADDDD HIS DAD.
Running away and hiding in your brain wrinkles
HEHEEEEE i was so hoping someone would comment this one day (⁠^⁠∇⁠^⁠)⁠ノ⁠♪ yeah it's a big part that Peter didn't have his glasses until his teachers at preschool noticed he was having a hard time seeing past the distance his hands reach. he got his glasses after his parents died... (it was Ben and May who he saw clearly for the first time) and then at some point, Peter started reacting poorly to seeing photos of his parents around Ben and May's house
It was always their intention to put the photos back up when Peter was older and more calm, less filled with anger about them being gone. But time and circumstances meant that they never got the chance. So all of this, combined with childhood memory loss (as in, the older you get, the harder it is to remember when you were really little), Peter didn't get to commit their faces to memory.
But that IS why Peter recognizes his dad's voice in the Itsy Bitsy au
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there's also a very good reason that Peter is filled with anger about them being gone, but I can't tell y'all yet 😞 it's gonna hurt though :3
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mj0702 · 2 days
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For @helen-with-an-a and her master brain and for @valewosomtb because she's now officially allowed to run people over now
You just wanted to do something nice. For Ona. Who looked after you the whole week while Lucy was away all the way back in England to “get some things sorted” - namely selling the house Keira and she bought all those years back. The house you basically grew up in. But now was not the time to dwell on long gone things. Now was the time to worry. To worry about Ona. She was maybe small – but she was also damn scary.
You watched all them firefighters weaseling in and out of your (Onas and Lucys) house in their full firefighter clothes with breathing mask so they don't inhale all the smoke. The smoke you inhaled. Oh Lucy gonna be so pissed. You sat in the back of an ambulance, your arm bandaged all the way up to your shoulder an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth like you were starring in an episode of Grey's Anatomy. You looked up at the paramedic who smiled at you with pity in her eyes as she pulled another liquid into a new syringe
“Hey ehrm... quick question” you said your voice raspy as you pulled the mask from your face
“Yes?” the paramedic – who looked a LOT like princess norwegian – looked away from the medication and right at you
“Ehrm... how long will that take until everything is done and all of you guys are gone again?” you asked a little embarrassed
“You got a deep 2nd degree burn and a smoke in your lungs and you really want us to go?” the dark haired medic asked confused
“Yeah...” you looked up shyly
“Yeah sorry that's not going to happen” the woman said smiling slightly “... we need to take you into hospital but we have to wait for an adult that gives us consent to do so... so no, we won't leave in the next few minutes”
“I'm an orphan...” you quickly said
“Oh please” the dark haired woman snorted “... you really think we don't know who you are? If I have to I contact Alexia Putellas”
“Ona is going to kill me” you mumbled as you pulled the mask back over your nose
“Ona Batlle” the paramedic asked as she pushed the liquid into you IV
“Yeah...” you croaked under your mask before you started to cough
“Looks like you're out of luck...” the spanish paramedic smirked nodding towards the end of the street where you could see a black Cupra with an open drivers door and a blonde woman sprinting up the hill towards the scene
“Fuck me... hide me....” you coughed “... better... kill me... you're probably way softer about it... she'll just rip me head off”
“The panicked expression on her face tells me she won't rip your head off” the woman smiled after she took a quick glance at Ona
“That's her disguise... she always looks nice and friendly and approachable but no no....” you croaked out “... she's pure evil... small... but pure evil... she didn't allow me dessert the last three nights”
“So evil” the woman snorted “... is that why you tried to get into her good books again?”
“No.. that was supposed to be just a thank you” you mumbled
“Bebita...” Ona suddenly appeared next to the ambulance her face panicked her breathing labored
“I swear I had good intensions” you immediately said shuffling back a little bit
“Are you okay?” the blonde spaniard asked checking you over “Your arm... what's with your arm?”
“2nd degree burn... we have to take her in but we needed an adult to give consent” the paramedic woman said trying to keep her face neutral but everyone could see the smirk that was forming on her lips
“Yes yes of course...” Ona said quickly “... take her”
“What?” you squeaked out shocked “... you can't let them take me”
“To the hospital Bebita... I promise I'm right there with you okay?” the blonde said gently
“Just hop in... you can ride with us” the dark haired woman said and immediately Ona stepped into the Ambulance
“Ona.....” you whined as you saw the doctors and nurses speed walking past your hospital bed
“It's okay Bebita” Ona said softly holding your left hand her thumb stroking over your knuckles in a calming manner
“No.... everything went wrong” you felt tears prickle in your eyes
“I don't care what happened Bebé...” the spaniard said gently “.... all that matter is that you are okay”
“No...” you chocked out
“No? What you mean no?” Ona asked confused
“I ruined everything” you sobbed as Ona started to brush your tears away
“No no Bebita... everything is okay... you are okay and that's I need” the blonde kept her voice soft
“I swear I just tried to make something good” you kept crying and at one point Ona realized it was the painkillers that made you cry
“Something good hm?” Ona smiled when she saw how the pain medication kicked in
“I wanted to make you paella” you sobbed heartbreakingly “... like you always make it”
“Oh Bebita” the blonde sighed
“I went with Mapí to the market thingy to buy sea creatures and that was a disaster because Mapí bought a whole fin thing” you started to ramble while Ona had to bite her lip hard to not burst out laughing “... a WHOLE one... with all the inside stuff... when she asked if I wanted a whole fin thing I thought she meant like... not whole...”
“Hm...” Ona just hummed amused
“... and then we got some of them... crab snippy thingies... the bigger ones... the ones that always look at Lucy when she eats them” you kept on rambling not even caring that Ona had to work really hard not to burst out laughing at your misery “... and I said “just two” and Mapí talked speed spaniard and you know I can't follow speed spaniard”
“I know Bebita... your spanish got very good” the blonde praised you but you didn't even noticed it as you just kept on talking
“... I wanted to snippy snappies not two kilo... so I had a whole fin thing with inside stuff and a bag full of snippy snappies... and Maps was so proud of herself that she was the bestest translator that I couldn't tell her she got it all wrong” you sniffed
“What happened then?” Ona asked keeping you occupied since you didn't even noticed the nurse that started to change your bandage
“Well... I went to the beach and made a snippy snappie race to see which ones are the slowest so I wouldn't kill the best ones... they have the best chance to survive... so I let them free on the beach but they didn't race each other... they... just ran in different directions and in the end I had no snippy snappies” you sobbed “... but I still had the fin thing so I went home and thought I just make rice with fin thing for you and order burger for me... I don't like fin thing... bleh”
“I know Bebita... you don't like fish... or sea food in general” the blonde smiled
“So when I came home I had to... cut..” you started to heave
“Deep breath Bebita....” Ona said calming
“Do you know how much things fin things have inside them... so so many things” you gagged again “so I got all the insides outside and I figured we need an alligator so the insides just don't lay around on the outside in the kitchen”
“An alligator? You could have also just used the trash bin” the blonde chuckled
“His name is Jesús... he'll be such a good gator...” you said wishfully as a doctor checked out your arm making you wince in progress
“So you really prepared a fresh fish for me Bebita” Ona said distracting you from the pain
“Yeah... it was really bleh...” you scrunched up your nose your eyes glassy
“So... how did you end up occupying a whole fire department?” the blonde mused
“Oh yeah... so I made the rice yeah... I followed the YouTube steps to the brim...” you got back on track of your retelling what happened “... and put the fin thing in the pan... and then I remembered that I saw that thing on that show...”
“That thing on that show?” Ona asked confused
“Yeah... you know...” you showed a pan swivel motion
“No.. I don't but please continue” the blonde shook her head
“So I looked in Lucys adult cupboard...” you started again
“Wait... Bedroom or living room??” Ona interrupted quickly
“There's an adult cupboard in the bedroom?” you asked confused tilting your head
“No... no... absolutely not” the blonde back paddled quickly shaking her head
“Oh... okay... alcohol is not good in the bedroom... only alcoholics have alcohol in the bedroom” you slurred “... so I went to get some of the alcohol and put it in the pan like they always do in the show”
“Oh god...” Ona groaned suddenly knowing what you were talking about
“So I tried to make it extra crispy but it wouldn't... poof you know” you looked at Ona but in reality you looked through her “... so I took a match and threw it in there and then it went... poof... big poof”
“Oh Bebita” the blonde started to pinch the bridge of her nose
“I tried to extinct the fire but then my sweater got very warm and it got very... smoky and yeah... next thing I know is that the men with the heavy boots kicked in the door” you at least had the audacity to look guilty
“Bebita... I really appreciate you going out of your way to make dinner for me but PLEASE don't get yourself in danger like that” Ona said seriously but you were already looking in the other direction
“Did you know we are in a hospital?” you asked looking around in awe
“I'm feeling like I lived through that before” the blonde mumbled as you pointed at an exit sign
“That's so pretty” you said in awe “Pretty green”
“Mhm...” Ona hummed stroking over your forehead trying to calm you down so much that you fall asleep
“You’re also very pretty…. Pretty spaniard” you slurred
“That would be Alexia but thank you Bebita” Ona chuckled
“Oni...” you mumbled “... I'm getting sleepy”
“Then sleep Bebita” the blonde whispered gently hoping you would listen to her
“But the green is so pretty” you mumbled your eyes darting back to the exit sign
“I'll get you your very own pretty green sign if you close your eyes and sleep for a few minutes” Ona said softly
“Okay” you sighed deeply closing your eyes falling asleep instantly
“No Lucy... she's not badly hurt” you heard Ona speaking softly her thumb still running over your knuckles “.... her arm is burned and she inhaled a bit of smoke but the docs say she'll be good in a week or so”
You made a low whining sound resulting in Ona looking up and over at you
“She's waking up...” the blonde said into the phone “... I'll call you later okay? Yeah... Love you too”
“Hey Bebita... how are you feeling?” Ona asked softly
“Me throat hurts” you whine still half asleep
“That was to be expected Bebé” the blonde hummed stroking over your cheek
“I really didn't mean to cause trouble” you mumbled ashamed
“I know Bebita....” Ona kept her voice soft “.... but Lucy and I decided that you'll take some cooking lessons... with my Mamí”
“It was all Mapís fault...” you whined “... she started the whole fuck up with buying the wrong fish”
“We'll work on your cooking okay?” the blonde said gently seeing how your eyes start to fall shut once again “... sleep some more Bebita... I'll be here when you wake up again”
“Hey Bubs...” you heard a soft voice next to you “... open your pretty eyes for me okay?”
“Five more minutes” you mumbled trying to turn away just to turn onto your burned arm making you shoot up clutching your arm in pain
“Easy Bubs...” Lucy reacted quickly moving your hand away from your bandaged arm “... easy... breath Bubs”
“Owie” you whined tears shooting into your eyes
“Yeah.... you really outdid yourself this time” your sister chuckled “... Keira is not happy”
“Owie” you whined again
“Mhm...” Lucy hummed “... I just woke you up so I can force some more medication down your throat”
“No” you looked at your sister pitifully
“Yes...” your sister smiled gently “... come on Bubs... just two pills and then you can sleep again”
“Lucy” you whined just realizing your sister sitting next to your bed – your own bed “... when did I go home?”
“I got you home last night” Lucy smiled still holding two pills in her palm
“I....” you looked confused
“I know... you were dead to the world” your sister chuckled “Open”
“Nooooo” you whined pulling your head away from Lucy
“Bubs you know I will get these pills down your throat” Lucy said gently grabbing your chin “It's either you take them or I'll make you OR I'll get Keira... you have to take them... one is a painkiller and one is an antibiotics”
“You're so mean” you huffed but opened your mouth
“I know... good girl” your sister smiled popping the pills into your mouth holding out a glass of water “... swallow”
“I'm not Ona” you grumbled as you grabbed the glass
“Don't start....” Lucy warned you but still smirked “... open”
You opened your mouth showing your sister you swallowed the pills
“Good.... now... will you behave when Ona changes your bandages?” your sister asked
“It won't hurt right?” you asked scared
“No.... the nurses showed us how to do it” Lucy said gently as Ona entered the room carrying several bandages and creams
“No no no no no” you said as you saw the materials shuffling away from where Ona put the stuff down
“It's okay Bubs” your sister said calmly “... it's not going to hurt”
“I don't like that” you tried to get away but Lucy quickly got you and just pulled you in between her legs so you have know chance to run
“It's okay.... it won't hurt” Lucy repeated over and over again
“No Lucy please” you sobbed as your sister hugged you tightly into her
“Okay... okay... calm down” your sister said quickly “... we won't do it”
Ona shot Lucy a quick look and Lucy just shook her head before she returned to whisper sweet nothings against your temple to calm you down
“I thought we won't change...” Ona started half an hour later
“.... she's out cold... of course we change her bandages...” Lucy said as she carefully held your arm for Ona to unwrap it
“She's going to kill us” the blonde catalan mumbled working as quickly as she could
“We'll let her call Alexia later... she'll wake up high as a kite again.... she'll be so happy to talk to the “pretty spaniard” for as long as she wants” your sister grinned making her girlfriend chuckle
“I'm sorry Lucy... I really am” Ona said her voice low as she carefully pulled the compresses off your arm cleaning the burn
“What are you sorry for?” Lucy asked confused still holding your arm
“You trusted me with her... she got hurt... I should've...” the blonde started her voice breaking slightly
“Babe no... no no no” your sister quickly interfered “... it's not your fault”
“You left her under my watch and she got hurt... how can it not be my fault?” Ona sniffled lightly as she started to wrap your arm back up
“She's a klutz Babe... no one holds you responsible... not Keira... not Bubs... and definitely not me” Lucy said seriously “... you know how often she got hurt just because I turned around for a second... trouble finds her... I swear there's ONE glass shard on the whole beach... I guarantee you you she'll steps into it...”
“I got so scared when I saw all these firefighter trucks and ambulances....” the blonde confessed lowly “... I got scared for her but then I also got scared you could hate me”
“I could never hate you Baby... I love you” your sister said softly as she gently placed your arm back down
“.... now let get out of here and let her sleep and I show you just how much I love you” Lucy smirked pulling Ona out of the room while you snored peacefully
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suzukiblu · 2 days
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WIP excerpt behind the cut for Derpsheep; obligatory sugar baby Kon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))
Kon laughs sheepishly, shakes his head, and then leans down and presses a kiss against the corner of his mouth. Tim boils alive. Like. Just a little. Then Kon straightens back up and gives him another grin before looking back down to the bag and digging into it. He comes up with the chocolates first, since they’re what Tim put on top, and grins wider again at the sight of them. 
“Dude, how much are you paying in shipping?” he asks with a laugh, shaking his head again. 
“Not that much,” Tim lies. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he hadn’t sprung for expedited, so he figures that counts as true. Like, arguably. From a certain point of view or whatever. 
Look, he’s spent more on less important things. 
Kon laughs again, then puts the chocolates in his coat pocket and pulls out the jewelry box, inspecting it curiously before flipping it open. 
“Oh, sick,” he says, looking delighted, which makes Tim feel as good as nailing a landing on the edge of a skyscraper, and then frowns again. “But how much was–” 
“You can’t tell me not to buy you things anymore,” Tim interrupts him as politely as he can. Kon pauses, then flushes again and ducks his head a little, smiling helplessly. 
“Okay,” he says, then bites his lip and stares down at the bag. “Um . . .” 
“Yes?” Tim asks. 
“I can kinda, uh . . .” Kon trails off, then looks embarrassed. “I mean, it feels like . . .” 
Right, Tim thinks. TTK probably does take away some of the element of surprise from unwrapping presents. 
“It’s fine if you don’t like it,” he says. “I just found, well . . . an option that wouldn’t wilt over dinner.” 
Kon looks very embarrassed. 
“You really didn’t have to,” he says, a little stilted. “I mean–you already . . .” 
Tim tilts his head. Patiently puts on what he’s decided to make his “you can’t tell me not to buy you things anymore” face. 
Kon turns red again, then pockets the jewelry box with the chocolates before pulling out the last gift to look at too. He opens the box gingerly, and stares into it for a long moment before taking the actual gift out. 
Tim really hopes he likes it. 
“You really didn’t have to,” Kon repeats as he turns it by the stem, his face still all flushed and his eyes and voice both just barely soft. 
It’s a slender little branch of blue orchids, all shiny and pretty. The company that makes them lacquers real flowers and then accents them in gold. So it’s still obviously an actual flower with the petals all visible under the lacquer, but the stems are gold-plated and the petals are edged in more gold, and the flowers themselves are preserved by the lacquer, so . . . yeah. 
He could’ve waited for the cul-de-sac and just started giving Kon fresh flowers like he’d originally planned, Tim guesses, but he’d stumbled across the site while looking for gift ideas and kinda just . . . gone from there, pretty much. He’d actually seen roses first, but the orchids had felt a little more . . . creative, maybe? And likelier to be to Kon’s tastes, given how obviously fondly he remembers Hawaii–and misses it, maybe, though that might be assuming a little much on Tim’s part. 
Even if it, unfortunately, doesn't miss him. 
It’s just . . . a hypothesis, really, that Kon misses Hawaii. Just going by certain things Kon’s been willing to say and show in front of Tim Drake, and hasn’t been willing to say or show in front of Robin or the team. 
So when Tim had seen the orchids, well . . . 
Blue orchids are a rarer color, apparently, and he’d just thought–well, Kon’s eyes are blue, and so is a significant percentage of his suit. And so is, obviously, the sky he flies in, and the water he might miss. And blue orchids are supposed to be symbols of rarity and uniqueness, so, uh–maybe it’s a bit much, but he’d just thought . . . 
Kon clearly wants to be seen as someone unique and individual, and clearly deserves to be, so . . . yeah. Well. 
It’d just fit, he’d thought. 
They’re supposed to represent sincerity, too, but that’s a whole other thing.
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