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sceletaflores · 8 months ago

Text

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck.

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room.

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin.

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in.

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you.

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat.

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh.

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him.

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before.

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands.

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer.

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response.

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning.

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come.

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth.

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering.

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

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urcoolgf · 2 months ago

Note

can you do rafe still wants you but you’re barry’s gf

this is so good yesssss

OFF LIMITS?

pairing. boyfriend’s bsf¡rafe && reader

content. 18+. smut. cheating (not on reader). unprotected sex. breeding kink(ig?). language. mention of drugs.

he couldn’t believe you were with barry.

you were everything he wasn’t; kind, smart, well-mannered, innocent.

God, you were so fucking innocent—not in the ‘never been kissed way’ just the way you looked at him, eyes wide like you’d let him do anything to you. it drove him crazy. rafe couldn’t help but think about ruining you. you were so delicate, so breakable. and rafe—he wanted to break you in. it was all he thought about; at night with his dick in his hand, at dinner when he was supposed to be partaking in family conversation, when he woke up in the morning, every. single. shower. you were every thought—even his dreams had you in them.

and you were with barry? what did he do to deserve you?

he was a drug dealer—a bad guy. he was an asshole with no morals, a guy who’d do anything for a stack of cash, or a bag of coke. rafe liked to tell himself that you were only doing it to prove a point, maybe fuck with your parents or friends, freak them out by dating ‘the drug dealer’. that was the only thing that kept him sane—not that he was. he was far from it when it came to you.

so, it was inconvenient that every time he needed his next fix, he had to see you.

—

rafe’s fist banged against the metal door of barry’s trailer. he didn’t bother to wait for him to open it—his pounding was a warning rather than a request.

he walked into the trailer only to find barry sitting on the couch… with you in his lap. barry played with the hem of your shorts with one hand, the other occupied with a beer bottle. your tiny tank top left little to the imagination, and your shorts had the same effect. the ‘B’ necklace hanging from your neck made rafe’s skin crawl. he hated it, hated you for wearing it, hated barry the most. your dark hair fell perfectly against your flawless skin, and your perfect legs were on full display across the couch.

this sight should be considered a form of torture.

“ayo country club! what’s goin’ on my man,” barry greeted rafe with a faux level of enthusiasm… and you just sat there, all pretty and perfect and fuckable and rafe was losing his damn mind. your big doe eyes looking up at rafe when he entered had blood rushing to his crotch. it was pathetic, and he hated it (he loved it).

you climbed off barry’s lap so he could retrieve rafe’s coke. you knew how this worked—not only with barry, but with rafe. he was a loyal customer. you sat yourself back down on the lumpy couch, the tv playing something on a low volume. you pretended to watch, but all you could focus on was rafe’s gaze burning into you. you shifted uncomfortably—mainly because the couch was uncomfortable, but rafe’s eyes didn’t help either.

barry came back with a bag of cocaine, exchanging it with rafe for some cash the blonde pulled out of his pocket. a sudden ring was heard through the trailer, barry reaching into his pocket to pull out a phone.

“yeah? … shit! a’ight, a’ight. … CALM DOWN. fuck ‘m on my way,” he hung up without another word.

“yo rafe, imma need ya to stay here with y/n. i gotta go handle somethin’,” he said frantically, grabbing the keys to his bike and something else before heading toward the door.

“wait! barry where–?!,” you started, you weren’t necessarily worried about him leaving—more worried about him leaving rafe alone with you.

“i’ll be back, princess. just gotta handle business. y’know how it is. stay here a’ight?,” and he was out the door without another protest from you or rafe—not that rafe had any protest.

“okay, bye…,” you muttered to yourself as you heard the bike starting, and sputtering off. rafe couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face as he plopped down on the couch next to you.

“looks like it’s just me and you ‘princess’,” he mocked barry’s nickname for you (even though rafe would love to call you it at any given chance).

“looks like it,” you responded, bringing your knees to your chest. you didn’t mind rafe, but he had a tendency to ‘flip switches’, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t scare you… just a bit.

“c’mon doll… ‘m not gonna bite,” he taunted quietly. he scooched just a little closer to you. he leaned over so his mouth was right next to your ear, “unless you want me to,” he whispered. you would be lying if you said that didn’t send chills down your spine.

the next thing you felt were his fingers pushing strands of your hair out of your face. he peered down at that awful necklace, reaching out to toy with it. you couldn’t move—you should have, should have gotten up and walked to the other side of the trailer—but you were stuck. not physically—mentally. you didn’t know why, but your brain didn’t even want you to move. told you to ‘stay put. let him do it’.

he released the necklace, letting the metal fall back against your chest. his fingers trailed around your collarbone, featherlight like you would crack if he was too rough. your breathing was uneven and shallow, and rafe was thriving off it.

“haven’t pushed me away, sweetheart,” his low tone aggravated you. not because he was annoying, just because he was so smug. he knew what he was doing to you right now, and he was enjoying it.

“y’know you’re too good f’r him, baby,” he was whispering as if he had to keep it a secret, as if barry was on the other side of the wall. you were frustrated with your speechless-ness, frustrated with the way your thighs clenched together at his words, at his touch. your knees were starting to hurt from being pressed together so hard.

you finally looked toward him, met his lust-filled eyes. his pupils were so blown that his eyes barely looked blue anymore. your breath hitched, plump, glossed lips parting ever so slightly. rafe could feel your warm, unsteady breaths against his face, and his mind went foggy.

he closed the space between you like if he didn’t kiss you now barry might come back before he could—like he had to seize the moment.

you wished you had pulled away, slapped him right across his face, told him how wrong it was—how messed up he was, and kicked him out… but, you didn’t. you couldn’t.

—

“shit, doll… so fuckin’ tight f’r me. barry not big enough f’r ya?,” he said breathlessly as he pumped in and out of you. your naked body was caged against the couch, rafe’s equally naked body moving above you. all you could do was whimper in response. you didn’t know how long barry had been gone at this point, and shamefully… you didn’t care. if he walked in right now while rafe’s dick was making imprints on you, you don’t think you’d even want him to stop. you felt shitty, but rafe quickly distracted you.

"answer me,” he demanded, moving his hand to grasp your throat just enough to grab your attention, and knock the wind out of you.

“fuck! no– no rafe,” you responded. you couldn’t even think—the way his dick was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed was making your head spin.

“say it,” he spat at you—not in a mean way, he was being cocky. he wanted you to say he was better, say barry couldn’t compare… unfortunately, you were too cock drunk to protest.

“barry’s– not… he’s not big– enough. shit!,” your words were broken by moans and sobs—and the pressure rafe had on your throat right now. your back arched off the couch after a particularly deep thrust, sending your eyes to the back of your head.

“yeah… ‘nd fuckin’ remember it, too,” he was putting his all into fucking you. he would make sure he got this opportunity again, but he didn’t know when. he was going to make the absolute best of this. make the best of his best friend’s girlfriend opened on his dick, mascara running down your face, hair messy, totally gone.

his hand left your neck, moving both hands to squeeze your tits—stabilizing him in a way—as he continued moving in and out of you. he looked back at the ‘B’ resting on your chest. you noticed a smirk spread across his face, but you were too blissed out to say anything.

he wrapped his hand around the metal, ripping it from your neck forcefully. you shrieked from the sudden movement, the back of your neck stinging from the action.

“open up, baby,” he cooed. your lips parted instantly, he smiled at your obedience, placing the ‘B’ between your lips, instructing you to bite down on it.

“let barry hear your moans, princess. let him hear how good i make you feel,” the smug look on his face drove you insane—not in the way it did not even 30 minutes ago—in a way that had you clenching around him.

“fuck– jus’ like that… holy shit, pussy’s fuckin’ perfect,” his jaw tensed at the sensation. your arms were hooked around his neck, but when you felt your orgasm approaching, your manicured hands mindlessly raked down his back. a hiss could be heard from the man above you.

"there ya go… cum on this dick, sweetheart. make a mess f’r me,” his hand moved down to rub circles into your clit, and that was all you needed. you were convulsing around him, shaking beneath him, and coming undone with a loud moan that was barely muted by the metal in your mouth.

“want me to cum in ya? get ya all fat with my babies? let barry see you carryin’ my kid? fuck you’d look so hot all plump f’r me,” his words came out in breaths. you could tell he was close.

“mhm! fuck– please ray,” you looked up at him, innocent, big, doe eyes staring right at him, and he was done for. he came in you with a shattered moan, painting your walls white. he pulled out slowly, watching his release drip out of you, and onto barry’s couch. he groaned at the sight, quickly pulling out his phone, taking a picture of your current state—he got all of you, from your messy hair, fucked out expression and glossy eyes, to the mess between your thighs. the ‘B’ still sticking out of your mouth in a sinful way.

you didn’t care. you never let barry take pictures of you—said it was ‘creepy’ and ‘borderline sadistic’, but for some reason when rafe did it… it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

"hope you can keep a secret, doll… because this cannot be the last time i fuck you.”

an: i’m working my way thru some more reqs, so if you sent something i promise it’s in my drafts.ᐟ this was a super fun one to write tho, so thank you to whoever sent this :)

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cvnt4him · 8 months ago

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Hold on ..... Bc katsu fucking you in izus bed?!!

It wasn't on purpose.....initially. you n katsuki had a couple of drinks together in the yuei college dorm house, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself fondling each other's body through sloppy spit filled kisses and sweaty movements trying your hardest to get each others clothes off. Within an instant of stripping you of your close he turned you around and pushed your face into the pillows. He fucked you roughly from behind, not much prep due to him being extremely horny. The gutteral groans he let out the second his cock entered your walls were perfect. You could tell which each thrust he was losing more of his composure, his control. This big tough act he out of was falling. Soon the groans turned into stifled moans and small carefully muffled mewls. his hips piston into the back of your ass with such heavy force. He felt the edge coming quicker than expected, katsuki hated when he got like this he could never hold back. He lifted his foot onto the bed and thrusted into you with so much force. The wind was literally knocked out of your lungs, you were gasping but it's as if the air left as soon as it came in. Katsuki had a hand placed on your lower back slightly on your ass while the other held your head down with a terrible grip, your head was beginning to hurt but how could you begin to care when you had a soon to be pro heros cock inside of you?! Katsukis motions were getting sloppy, his thighs flexing and slightly quivering as he chanted in his mind not to cum just yet, his forehead was sweaty and the hot breaths you both let out were moistening the air. Katsuki soon began to speed his thrusts up once again, making the entire bed shake. The faster he moved the rougher his thrusts got, the back of your thighs and ass were sure to be red, not to mention the fact he'd been gripping your ass cheek terribly hard.

“ fu- fuck...”

His small words were breathy yet strangled, you could hear the way he was holding back. His thick and veiny hand brang a harsh slap onto the flesh of your ass, not just one however. Soon it was two, then three, then four and so much more. He couldn't stop, the slight jiggle of your ass when he hit it triggered something in him. He had his eyes squeezed shut when you two first started in hopes of not cumming, but when he seen your ass bouncing back against him without his help, the way you were just ass needy for him as he was you... Fuck how could he not cum inside?

You two cleaned yourselves up, slightly sobering up after the liquids you two ended up losing. He sniffled before standing and taking notice of his surroundings. His slightly blurry eyes blinking away the tears that wettened his eyes. Katsukis eyes widened before he realized...... That was dekus room..... He looked around at every little detail of the room before his eyes landed on a limited edition super rare or wtv all might card that was preserved in a card slip thing to keep it clean n unbent n shit. It looked u touched and so beautiful, identical to the same one katsuki had....

Katsuki looked down at you and how your legs were slightly shaking, you were sitting on dekus bed cleaning the sticky messing between your thighs with some random blue shirt. You threw it on his bed before standing and leaving without a word. Katsuki gulped and walked out behind you. Hopefully the dimwit wouldn't notice......

Oh but did he. Three days after the party izuku finally decided to go back to his dorm instead of staying at his girlfriends, he mostly just went for some more clothes to take back to ochakos but whatever. He walked into a cold but not so empty room grabbing what he needed and heading towards the door before he realized.....the display he had up over his bed was all messy, the allmight bobble head's were slightly out of place and his other nicnacs were knocked over aswell, somewhat out of place. He hummed of disapproval before heading towards his bed to fix it. Once fixed he looked at his bed that was rather messy aswell...he knew he didn't leave it like that. So, who did? He looked at the crinkled all might shirt that he normally wears to bed and smiled. That was the shirt he'd wanted to wear. His face contorted in a confused way at the feeling of the fabric, it was rather weird. It wasn't as soft as it usually is once washed. He hadn't worn the shirt in a while though, how could it be dirty? He gave the shirt a quick smell before throwing it out of his hands and shivering. It smelled of a familiar smell....for the most part, bodily fluids.

Explaining this story to a couple of the guys he shared classes with they all laughed at the poor green haired boy who regretted not just staying in his room the night of the party. Katsuki however was trying his hardest not to laugh through the small tinge of guilt he felt. It wasn't HIS fault, maybe izuku shouldn't have left his dorm door u locked.

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dear-aubade · 5 months ago

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Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.

#bambi writes #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #n$4w #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller

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marblehazel · 5 months ago

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Sitter

dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Part One | Part Two: Deeper

You’re spending spring break alone at home while your father is five thousand miles away when all of sudden, you fall sick. Enter Joel Miller: your father’s buddy, sent by him to check on you.

Tags: Explicit MDNI, no outbreak, age gap, no mother in the picture but your father has a named girlfriend (sorry), no bra household, dry humping, footjob while watching SpongeBob, oral (m and f receiving)

Word count: 6.8k

“Dad,” your voice is hoarse like it has just come out from a dying goose, and you spend the next five seconds trying to clear your throat.

“So like, I’m… sick, kinda, but it’s not really bad, so—” A train of coughs that feels like they are going to tear your lungs apart. “—sorry about that. It’s nothing. Don’t worry too much, don’t even think about it. I just wanted to let you know.” Another coughing fit. “Okay. Have fun, I love you.”

You click your phone screen and let the voicemail find its way to your father’s ancient block of telecommunication. It’s 11 p.m. for you, 5 a.m. in Tuscany, you calculate with your fingers. You might be wrong. Either way, your father is probably asleep. He had been away for a couple of days with his girlfriend Amy for her nephew's wedding. And they plan to spend another week there, because it’s their anniversary, and Amy had always wanted to go to Italy.

“Will you be okay?” your father asked, apologetic. He leaned onto your bedroom door’s frame while you were unpacking your backpack.

“Yeah, Dad, what am I, eight? Go.” you laughed lightheartedly.

“It’s just you came down here from school and then I go, you know. I wish you’d said yes and come with us.”

“And third-wheeling you and Amy for ten days?” you giggled. “Dad, it’s okay. Come on. We’ll still have the weekend together when you come back.”

You heard Amy call for your father from downstairs, followed by a question about his dress shirt. You grinned, gesturing for him to go.

“Me and Amy will make sure the fridge is full, okay?” he says, voice fading as he steps down the stairs. You shook your head. You’ve survived on dry ramens and day-old coffees in college. You would be okay. Right?

Loud buzzer sound. The game show on the TV you put on to distract yourself from the fever is not doing a good job. You try to focus, but the noises coming out of it sound muffled, and the colors are just so bright and saturated that they make your head spin. You click on mute before slamming the remote on the coffee table, and it lands safely on some crumpled Kleenex. A thermometer is sitting next to the box, the tiny display screen blank. It’s broken, and you make a mental note to scold your father for always keeping faulty things around the house as if he’s going to fix them. A few bottles of pills you fished out of your father’s medicine cabinet to at least ease your aching muscles are toppled next to a half-empty Nyquil Nighttime Relief bottle with its cap screwed but crooked.

You second-guess your decision to let your father know that you’re unwell. But again, he hates surprises, so letting him know that he might find your rotting corpse in front of his TV when he gets back is, perhaps, doing him a favor.

It’s dark in the living room, and the leather couch is sticking to your sweaty leg. You should probably put sweatpants and a hoodie on instead of biker shorts and a stretched out shirt that looks more like a rag than a proper clothing item. But climbing the stairs now? No, thank you.

You shift your body, trying to find the best position to fall asleep in since the wrong angle seems to block your nasal passage. A groan leaves your throat when you can’t pull the fleece blanket to cover your body. You find out you are sitting on both ends of it. To hell with it.

You blink slowly. The Nyquil seems to start working. Can’t sneeze or cough if you’re knocked out, you think. You close your eyes, the colors from the TV somehow find their way in and flash washed-out red, white, yellow behind your eyelids. You’re too tired to reach for the remote.

Maybe you’ll feel better when you wake up.

You jolt when something cold makes contact with your forehead. Within microseconds, you yeet the thing away hysterically, hitting yourself in the process. The thing flies and lands on the wooden floor with a wet, thwap sound.

“Easy, easy,”

If it was just a little bit not so sudden and confusing and designed to constrict your blood vessels until your organs fail, you would have yelped. You nearly snap your neck trying to find the source of the voice, and your tense shoulders fall as quickly as they were raised when you notice the familiar face belonging to a broad frame standing next to the couch.

It’s Joel Miller.

Of course it’s him. Your father likely has him on speed dial.

He and your father go way back. Went to the same school, crushed on the same girls, hit the same bong, and so on. They were even in a band together. Your father has pictures of them from years ago, with greasy hair, earrings, bass and drumsticks in their hands. Cringe.

Well, just your father. Not Joel though.

You haven’t seen him in like, what, a year? And yet he looks good as ever. Well, Joel has always looked good his whole life. When you saw the pictures of him from high school you thought, Oh Fuck, I Would Totally Have A Crush On This Guy. And then you had to sit in silence and ponder, because, well, you are having a crush on this guy. Sort of. Maybe.

He bends over to pick up the thing you just yeeted on the floor, which is apparently a washcloth, and dunk it in a basin on the side table, which is now clean from all the stuff that was previously there.

“Joel,” you chirp. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he smiles as he squeezes the washcloth. Beads of water come trickling down his knuckles back to the basin, gleaming in front of the still-turned-on TV. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. What time is this?” you straighten up, rummaging around the blanket to find your phone to no avail.

“One-thirty. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Your old man asked me to check on you." He folds the cloth in two and dab it before stepping closer and pressing it against your forehead, nice and cold. His other hand supports your head from the back, basically cradling your skull.

“Your front door was unlocked when I came in.” says Joel, as if you are capable of digesting any kind of information at the moment. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “And sorry my Dad made you come here. You didn’t have to, it’s not so bad.”

“Come on, it’s only a ten minute drive. ‘S okay. I checked your forehead. Not too bad, but still a fever, y’know. You took the Nyquil?”

The thought of Joel Miller touching your forehead with his palm in the dark while you were asleep somehow makes the neurons in your brain stop interlinking for a second. Were you sleeping with your mouth open the whole time? You knew you did fall asleep that way since you couldn’t breathe through your nose. Man.

“I did.” you nod, shaking the thought away. You feel your lungs tighten, though. Another coughing fit incoming.

“Good,” Joel presses his hand to your forehead again as if trying to make sure the wet washcloth is properly glued onto your face. The soft pressure disrupts your composure and you cough like a machine gun submerged in a container full of Elmer’s glue, hacking up thick mucus up your throat. Joel leaves your side with hurried steps and, within seconds, somehow has a paper cup under your chin for you to spit into.

You try to grab the cup, flustered, but he doesn’t let go and instead helps you sit up straight, patting your back.

“Spit.” he says as you wheeze with phlegm in your mouth like an imbecile. You awkwardly grab his wrist for support and spit the mucus out into the cup. Soon you’ll realize how foolish it is to grab someone’s wrist using the same hand you used to cover your mouth while coughing. The string of saliva takes a ridiculously long time to break free from your lips, but Joel is unfazed. He takes a glance at the mucus, likely checking the color and consistency.

“Thanks,” you blink rapidly, still processing.

“You wanna go to urgent care?” Joel asks.

“Nu-uh,” you shake your head. “I’m okay, I promise. I feel a lot better already.”

“It’s probably just a bug,” he pats your back again before walking to the kitchen to dispose of the cup. “How long has it been going on?”

You wait until he comes back because you don’t think you can speak loud enough for him to be able to hear you from the kitchen without tearing your throat apart. Joel thinks you didn’t hear him the first time and is about to repeat his question when you say, “Uh, it got progressively worse last night.” you realize how serious that sounds and quickly add, “But not like, worse worse. I mean, compared to,”

“And before that?”

“Just a scratchy throat.”

He looks like he’s mentally taking notes with arms folded in front of his stomach. It’s the first time that night you take a full look at him under the glow of the muted TV. You can’t really make the colors out, but he’s wearing a dark t-shirt under an unbuttoned flannel shirt and jeans. He’s keeping his beard kind of thin compared to the last time you saw him, but still the same, well-tended mustache that makes a strong presence over his lips. You can’t help but notice the graying strands of hair that stick out among his dark, messy hair, complimenting him so well. You are pretty sure the ratio between light to dark hair has been shooting up this year. You like it.

And his eyes. They’re rich, and dark, and the fact that he furrows half of the time that it creates permanent dents between his eyebrows just makes him ridiculously hotter.

The mucus factory must be working overtime tonight because you can feel the slight slippery feeling of lubrication where you’re sitting. Fucking stupid, you think, read the room.

All of sudden, a lightning flashes, lighting up your surroundings before the grumbling roar of thunder follows through. For a second, you can make out the shapes and silhouettes of everything in the room like a photograph. Joel fits rightly in the left third of this main piece in your mind exhibition. You wish you could take screenshots with your eyes and keep it to admire later.

Joel glances out the window. Heat lightning reveals the blobs of clouds outside, and the strong wind is starting to blow debris to rattle the windows. He shifts his focus on you again. “Did you eat?”

“I’m okay,” you shrug. Storm is coming, Joel better go home before it gets worse.

He chuckles. “Yes or no?”

That chuckle tickles something deep inside of you. You smile shyly. “Yes, Joel. I’m okay.”

Joel stares at you, and you are pretty sure he senses that you did not, in fact, eat dinner. “I’m starvin’, actually,” he gets up and takes his flannel shirt off, and then tosses it on the couch before making his way towards the kitchen. You scream internally at the sight of his biceps like a deranged fangirl.

“Mind if I take a look in the fridge?” he yells while opening the fridge door. Just being polite. He knows your father will let him dismantle the house and take the pieces home if he wants to.

You free the tangled blanket from around your legs, only noticing now how under your old, sweat-dampened, Marlin Club shirt, your nipples are as erect as fireman’s poles. Was it the temperature, Joel, or both, you can’t conclude.

Joel whistles when he finds that the fridge is full. He grabs a can of beer and pops it open, studying the contents of the fridge and thinking of what he can cook for you as he gulps the beer down.

You follow him to the kitchen, jump to sit on the kitchen island as Joel grabs some produce off the fridge and sets them next to you. He looks at you, blinks a couple of times, then occupies himself with the food cabinet over the counter. You try to be helpful by unwrapping the basil and cherry tomatoes.

“So, how’s school?” Joel breaks the silence as he washes his hands. “And don’t just say okay, please.”

“You got me there,” you laugh. “Nothing really amusing, really.”

Then a few more superficial, classic-catching-up questions while you both prepare the pesto. Joel asks about the trip to Italy, how your father mentioned proposing to Amy soon, what do you think about that. You ask about his brother Tommy, work, and the average cost to renovate a room, to which Joel answers in detail really nicely. Then come the usual do-you-remember-when stories, melting down the strange and awkward atmosphere between the two of you. Laughters fill up the room. It’s fun and familiar.

“Did you remember when you used to call me Uncle Joel?” Joel sneers as he tosses a pan to the sink. “You used to be so nice and polite.”

“I was like six!” You snorted. “And you can’t even pay me to call you that again, Joel.”

Then, the once-your-pops-and-I anecdotes. You’ve heard some of them from your own father’s mouth, but you still listen to Joel’s versions eagerly anyway.

At one point, you start to cough again so Joel instructs you to just sit down on the counter. You don’t complain—it means you can just sit back and watch him from the back and imagine how it would feel to run your fingers through his hair.

When Joel stirs the pasta with the pesto sauce, the weather has gone full-blown insane out there.

“You should stay the night,” you try to sound as nonchalant as possible. His presence is sending arrays of erroneous signals to your reproductive organs, which will most likely result badly if he stays, but how can you let him drive home in this kind of weather?

Joel hands you a fork and pushes a plate of fusilli for you to eat. “Eh, we’ll see,” he shrugs. “I don’t mind drivin’ through a storm, but I can’t just leave you alone if you don’t feel well.”

“Dad told me you got a folded chair smashed through your windshield last summer.” You take a bite, the thick sauce coats your tastebuds and you groan in satisfaction, even though you can’t really taste it to the fullest because of your stuffy nose.

“Oh, yeah, that.” Joel chuckles. “I was lucky it aimed for the shotgun.”

He eats standing up across you, one elbow on the counter. When you both finish the meal, he takes your plate and starts washing the dishes. You tell him to do it later, and then offer your help, and he says no to both. You insist on drying the dishes anyway, standing side by side with him.

After the very late dinner, the two of you retreat to the living room. Joel asks you to take some medication again and you decline, stating that you feel better already.

“Headstrong, ain’t ya?” Joel sighs. “Okay, sleep then. Wanna sleep in your bed?”

“Not really sleepy,” you shake your head. “Feel free to take Dad’s bed, by the way. You have work in the morning, right?”

“Nah, I’m alright by the couch.” Joel scoots to make room for his legs and lies on his back, groaning like every other old person when they finally get to be horizontal. His feet are dangling on one side, his head on the opposite armrest. You take the old recliner that doesn’t even recline anymore near Joel’s feet, facing both the TV and Joel at an angle.

The TV is still on, showing the same game show but already on a later season. You unmute it and watch it together with Joel for five minutes before you realize that none of you has laughed yet, and you ask Joel if he wants to watch a movie instead. He says why not.

You open a streaming service and browse for movies on the home page. Joel probably likes action and other classic old man genre types. You pretend to read some of the summaries and see if Joel perks up at one of them, but he doesn’t seem to really care about the TV.

“I don’t know what to watch,” you admit. “Do you wanna pick the movie?”

Truth is, Joel can’t give a single shit about no goddamn movie. He’s been distracted by so many thoughts in his mind. But he gestures for you to scroll back up anyway. “Let’s see the trending ones.”

You stop at a tally of newly released and currently popular films at the top of the page, giving Joel a chance to read about them before moving to the next one.

“This one looks excitin’.” Joel points at the screen. The poster shows a man in classic Viking attire, staring intently at the viewer with striking blue eyes. Some kind of pelt is draped over his shoulders. His hands are on top of each other, resting on a sword handle, the blade facing the earth. Dried mud and blood are splattered over his face and armor. The Conquest, it says. You don’t recognize the actors listed. The summary says something about revenge, passion, blood, power, blah blah. You click play.

The movie opens with a battle scene. The movie looks like it runs out of lighting budget, and you need to squint to be able to tell what they are actually doing. Nothing can be heard except grunts and blades clashing. You look over at Joel to see his expression, but he’s looking at you. He quickly averts his gaze back to the screen.

Twenty minutes pass, and none of you are really paying attention to the plot. Not until the main guy enters a wooden tub filled with steaming hot water with his asscheeks out, and then a woman enters the scene with nothing but a thin white veil covering her body. She drops the cloth and joins him. The warm light from the torches is highlighting her breasts.

“Woah,” you look at Joel again, but he says nothing, but you can see his Adam’s apple moving awkwardly.

They kiss, and he grabs her bosom with his humongous palms and knead them. Then he buries his face between them, with the woman kissing the top of his head. After what feels like a millenia, he lifts her lower half from the water, and then puts her down to sit on the edge of the tub before performing cunnilingus. She moans.

You start to feel a pool of heat brewing inside of you. This feels invasive of their privacy, somehow, with no soundtrack added, just fire crackling and water splashing and erotic moaning.

Joel clears his throat. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t watch this,”

“You’re the one who picked the movie.” you say, eyes fixated on the screen.

“Well, it didn’t say nothin’ about eatin’ a lady out in the summary.”

He reaches for the remote and turns the TV off, leaving only the sound of rain hitting your window in your eardrums.

“Hey,” you whine. “That’s not nice. I didn’t say yes.”

“It’s late. Go to sleep.” Joel folds his arms over his chest, partly staying warm, partly because he’s so flustered he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He then closes his eyes, knowing damn well he’s far from feeling tired let alone fall asleep.

“We’re both adults anyways,” you mutter, but Joel doesn’t move. He’s probably actually tired.

Your gaze is affixed on him. He surely doesn’t look like he’s sleeping in peace right now but he’s still handsome nonetheless. His old shirt is a tad bit too tight around his biceps. You can see the protruding veins beautifully decorating his arms and hands. His legs are slightly crossing with one ankle on top of another, and his breath is steady. He’s gorgeous.

In your wildest dreams, you would jump to straddle Joel, and he would grab your hips and fuck you to death. Is it bad that your immune system is fighting one of the worst battles in your life, and yet your number one priority is somehow to get laid, by this man specifically? It’s both excruciating and foolish.

The movie you just saw doesn’t help, either. In fact, it makes everything worse. Your mind keeps wandering back to it, the way the man eats the woman out, and then back to Joel, imagining the top of his head would look like when he eats you out. Fuck. You know that if you don’t get to touch this man in the next 30 minutes, you are either going to combust or burn everything in the vicinity.

You close your eyes, try to do the mindfulness practice you once saw in a magazine. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. You repeat “Release me from this earthly desire” in your head like a rookie buddhist wizard trying to cast a spell with a broken wand. You ball your fists in your lap so hard the joints start to hurt.

It’s not working.

Your mind keeps wandering back to different scenarios, different positions, different spots around the house. Low grunts, fingertips pressing your sides, tongue between your lips…

You can’t do it anymore. You need release. You need to at least be able to feel something, a little reward for your throbbing clit. Trying your best to be as casual as possible, you pull your folded legs closer to your body, your left heel even closer to your biker-short-covered cunt, and shift your body weight on it.

The pleasure that has been building up there bursts like a balloon. You sigh.

There are two things that Joel is not: young, and oblivious.

Oh, he is totally aware of what’s happening. You are not doing a good job trying to be subtle. From the non-stop staring, to the constant fidgeting, to the borderline sexual sighs, to the hard nipples, Joel knows you are going through something that is completely different from just being ill.

And he totally understands. He’s been there, done that. There was a time when his back wasn’t hurting and his face hadn’t been ‘graced’ with crow’s feet and age spots yet, when his hormones were at all-time high and his blood liked nothing more than flowing to his cock recklessly at the slightest inducement. He understands what you are going through.

So when you start grinding yourself onto your left heel followed by soft moans, he is not exactly surprised, just mostly in awe of your debauched audacity.

That is too much, even for him. He clears his throat, hoping you’d catch the hint and stop for good. But you don’t, and your eyes are closed and your eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, and your hips are moving slowly, sensually, chasing something, the sight of it stirs something up in his guts.

It is vulgar, and most importantly indecent in every way, but Joel can feel his own arousal creeping up no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that it is not happening.

He calls your name. Your body responds faster than the critically thinking part of your brain and you stop like you just got cursed by Medusa.

You can physically feel your heart drop to your ass. Your neck moves stiffly to find his eyes like a broken animatronic. “Yeah?” you croak.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doin’?”

You blink. Deny? Act stupid? Admit? Deny, deny. Wait, deny? No, act stupid.

“What… Do you mean?” you say, and you realize that you chose the dialogue option that actually sounds the dumbest.

Joel clicks his tongue. “Might as well hump me if you want it that much.”

Wait, what? Your eyes light up. “Really?”

Joel stares at you in genuine perplexity before lifting one hand up to massage his temples. He takes a deep breath, and in the softest way possible—like telling a puppy she can’t eat electronic parts—sighs, “No.”

“Oh,” you cover your mouth. “I thought you meant—“

“Yeah, yeah. My bad.” he sighs again, sounding significantly more frustrated. He then uses his hands to support himself to a sitting position, composing himself.

Silence. You don’t dare to look at Joel, but your cunt keeps pulsing like a metal detector. You understand that the beeping—desire—will not die down unless you get the valuable artefact from the bronze age—Joel—in your hand. Is this time to be bold and brash?

“Joel,” you call, and you can swear that was not a sober decision, but the stage curtains have been pulled back, and you are pushed to the stage to play your part.

“Hm?”

“What if… I hump you anyway?” you stand up, and your knees are slightly buckling but you act tough and bold regardless.

Joel’s jaws opens and stays slightly agape for a while before he says, “That fever is really messin’ with your brain, huh? Sit down.”

“You’re bricked up, Joel.” you accuse. You don’t actually know for sure since Joel keeps a hand on his lap to cover his crotch, but Joel gulps. Gotcha.

“Unrelated to you.” he hisses in defense.

You scoff.

“Joel, please,” you grouse, voice cracking and desperate. “I want this so bad.” you whisper as you take slow, threatening steps towards Joel until your crotch is not even an inch away from his knee. “I want you so bad.”

“This ain’t right, kid.” Joel puts a hand on the outer side of your arm, and it’s worth pointing out that he’s shaking. “You know that.”

Joel doesn’t tell you that he’s battling demons in his head, and he’s currently losing. A million impulses are catapulting burning boulders onto the gate of his conscience, and all he got is one bleeding, sickly troop with a chipped wooden sword. But he puts his best stern expression despite the fact that his body is betraying him.

He could leave now. Push you away. Clear his head. Come back later. Or not come back at all.

But he knows he doesn’t want to. He can hear his blood rushing and his heart singing battle cry. Not to mention his cock, hard and nearly burns a hole through his jeans.

A long pause. You want to push him further, but you know you don’t need to. The black marlin printed on your shirt does a worthless attempt at distracting Joel from your hard nipples, putting him into a trance.

Joel takes a deep breath. He knows he has lost. “You can help yourself, that’s all,” he nods, more trying to convince himself rather than talking to you. “Just to make you shut up and get rest. That’s it.”

That’s an unenthusiastic barf-colored green light, but it is a green light nonetheless.

You put your hands on Joel’s shoulder before putting your left knee next to his right leg and lower yourself down onto his thigh, while your other knee rests in front of his crotch and presses onto his raging hard-on. Your cunt pulsates in pleasure upon contact, and you let out a gasp. Joel anxiously places his hands on your sides to keep you steady, one thumb ‘accidentally’ brushing your nipple, earning a whine. You lock gaze with him, and start moving.

The friction sends buzzes up your head. You make each grind count, and every single one feels like heaven despite the layers of fabric between your cunt and his beefy thigh. Moans and Joel’s name spill from your lips indeliberately, and he tightens his grip on your body until his fingertips turn white as if you would fly away with a gust of wind if he doesn’t. If you weren’t so absorbed in your own pleasure, you would’ve noticed how shallow and rapid Joel’s breath has become. It turns him on watching you getting off because of him, using him, how your eyelids flutter and your pupils are having a hard time staying in place.

Joel wants to break free from his denim, badly. While he consciously thought, planned, and stated that he’s doing what he’s doing only for your satisfaction and be done with it, it isn’t exactly nice having your kneecap pushing button-flies shaped caves on his crotch repeatedly. Especially not when his cock, which probably has its own brain, has been begging to be taken care of, too.

You, on the other side, are having the best time of your life. As your climax is building up in your south region, you smile at Joel, who smiles back. His hand leaves your ribs briefly to brush the hair that is sticking to your sweaty forehead away from your face.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod weakly. “So good, Joel, so good,”

For a moment there you consider kissing him. His face is merely two inches away from you, and he looks ravishing, all sweaty and blushing. And how you just want to have your tongue inside his mouth, his lips all over yours sloppily. But that feels like overstepping boundaries, like a whole uncharted area you can’t cross, spreading the flu aside. You opt to put your chin on his shoulder instead, trying to focus on your orgasm.

“I want to see your face,” Joel says in your ear, his beard grazing your cheek. Takes you three whole seconds to process that, and when you do, it tingles your core. Before you can answer, he continues, “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You pull back, meeting his gaze with flushing cheeks. You don’t know what to say, and maybe you don’t have to. You continue to be dumbfounded when Joel stops your motion and helps you to stand up.

“Hold on,” he says as he undoes the buttons of his jeans. “I need to take these off.”

He quickly kicks the jeans off his legs, revealing a dark gray boxer briefs under. A wet patch adorns the bulge right in the center. He then manspreads and gestures for you to come back onto him, to which you comply. “C’mere,” he says, “I need to feel you on me.”

You straddle him, positioning your cunt right on his cock, and on everybody and their mother, it feels good. No, it feels right. Joel lets out a groan that cuts into a gasp when you start to grind. “Fuck, yeah,” he grabs your ass, helping you settle on a rhythm.

The contour of Joel’s cock, albeit still covered by the fabric of his boxer briefs, touches every last nerve ending of your cunt in such a different way that his thigh did. You pick your pace up, getting the pleasure to build up again.

“Joel, I’m gonna come,” you moan, voice quivering. You rake your fingers through his hair, your noses almost touching.

“Keep going, baby,” he says through a smile. “Don’t hold back. You sound so pretty.”

The encouragement is shooting up fireworks in your lower belly, and you start making more sounds. You’re close. So close.

“Makin’ me so hard all night, you,”

You whimper as you come, hips convulsing. Time slows down, and it feels like your cunt is pulled towards a strong gravitational force within your own body as you are sinking down a quicksand, all while pleasure forces your brain to reboot itself.

“That’s it, that’s it. There you go. You’re so good.”

Joel holds the back of your head while you’re laying on his chest, limp. When you pull yourself away from him, he presses a palm to your cheek, smiling. “Attagirl.”

When you finally gather yourself, you pull away from Joel, leaving a huge wet spot on where you just had your cunt on, and scoot to the spot next to him on the couch. You are about to lean onto his shoulder when he stands up and picks his jeans up from the floor. He sees the wet trail of arousal you left on the fabric in the thigh area and snickers.

“Damn, kid, you’re practically a snail,” he points to it. “Poor thing.”

You wince. “What are you doing?”

“Puttin’ my pants on?” he answers in the exact same tone, fixing the position of his boxer briefs.

“But you haven’t even come yet!” you protest. “What the fuck? Take them off!”

“That’s not what I agreed to, remember? I help you come so you’ll shut up and sleep. You’ve come, now shut up, and go to sleep.” he lays it out like basic math while you press the base of your palms onto your eyelids, confounded.

“You’re a sick person,” you shake your head, and then point to his crotch. “You’re literally still hard.”

“That has nothin’ to do with anythin’.”

You stare at the open space, like you’re trying to break the fourth wall in a sitcom. Can you believe this guy?

“Joel, your line is ‘I’m going to fuck you so hard.’ Now let’s start again from the top.”

Joel, who’s struggling trying to fit his bulge back in the jeans without hurting it, stops fussing with his button-fly shortly to push your head back—softly—to the couch. “Sleep,” he drags his palm over your face to close your eyelids.

“Joooooel,”

“Your line is ‘Yes, Joel, good night.’”

“Yes, Uncle Joel, good night, Uncle Joel,” you mock as you swiftly jump from the couch and pull his jeans down to his ankle and force him to step out of it. You hear Joel yelling hey, hey, hey as he tries to simultaneously fight you and not hurt you. You throw the pair of pants across the room with all your might and it lands with a loud thud.

“What are your pants made of, steel?”

“What is wrong with you?” he takes a step to fetch it, but you stand up and push him back to the couch. Joel is for sure going easy on you, because if he wanted to, he could definitely launch you through the walls. Instead, he just accepts his fate and stares at the ceiling, defeated.

“Nobody sleeps with jeans on, Joel,” you reach for the TV remote again. “Now let’s watch something again and then sleep.”

“We’re not watching the viking movie again.”

“We’re not watching the viking movie again,” you repeat. “We’re watching SpongeBob.”

Joel groans.

“What, you don’t like SpongeBob?”

“Not my era,” Joel says. “I watched Gumby. Tom and Jerry. The Muppet Show.”

“No wonder you act like the heckling old guys.”

“I don’t, but, sure,”

“Oh, you’re more like the eagle. So serious all the time.”

Joel rolls his eyes. You play the first episode of the first season of SpongeBob Squarepants, and the familiar intro begins. You take a look at Joel in the corner of your eyes, how he has one of his forearm on the top of his head, bicep almost as thick as his head. The other hand is resting on his thigh, and you can tell that he’s at least still half-hard. You wonder how he looks under those boxer briefs.

On the screen, Squidward and Mr. Krabs are climbing a post with a sea of raging anchovies under them. Joel’s lips slightly turn upward. Ha, eat that, Mr. Old Cartoon Head.

You shift so that you’re on your back, legs resting on Joel’s lap. He gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything. Minutes later, totally absorbed with SpongeBob pestering his neighbor with a reef blower, he has a hand on your ankle, caressing it without much thought.

They would have written about you in a Greek tragedy the way you’re consumed by greed and lust. When your toes stroke Joel’s bulge, totally by accident and not precalculated at all, you pretend like you’re captivated by the TV. It’s hard and you can definitely discern the ridge of possible veins and the head of his cock.

Joel exhales, sounding so done and tired. “I know you were going to do this,”

But he doesn’t push you away. And that excites you.

You don’t say anything or look away from the screen, but you keep rubbing the outline of his cock, which is now more visible and grows slightly larger, with the space between your big and index toe. Your brain automatically puts the ice clinking in a vase while SpongeBob is getting dry under Sandy’s treedome as background noise to amplify Joel’s restrained grunts.

You like this. You like having Joel wrapped around your finger. Soon after, you withdraw your legs and sit up, causing him to open his eyes over the sudden halt.

You stare at him, bold. “Would you like my mouth?”

Joel nods.

You don’t even wait for a second. Joel helps you take off his boxer briefs, the length of his hard-on springs out like jack-in-the-box. You admire how it looks, how the tip is totally sticky and glistening, before lowering your tongue. Joal lets out a sound akin to a whimper as you let your saliva ooze down the underside of his cock and quickly retrieve it into your mouth using your tongue. He tastes slightly salty, like sweat. And if you could smell better you’d see how hypnotizing his scent is, like calling you to stick his cock down your throat until the world collapses.

“That’s it,” Joel says, out of breath. His cock is now grazing the soft wall of your cheek, and he wonders how experienced you actually are because you definitely don’t act like an amateur. You use one elbow to support yourself, the other one taking turns massaging his balls and the base of his cock.

The only downside of this is that Joel can’t really look at your face. He craves the sight of you, how your lips are wrapped around his cock, and how your cheek is bulging like a squirrel full of him. One of his hands crawls up your back under your shirt, rubbing it before it finds a new target: your breasts. He kneads on one, thumb flicking the bud. You can’t help but moan and take him deeper, sending vibrations from your throat to his cock.

Joel knows he won’t last much longer, and he would very much like to keep this thing going as long as possible. So he asks you to stop, averting your disappointment by lifting up your shirt and sucking on one nipple. He’s surprisingly tender with it, taking his time. You reach a hand to his cock again, trying to at least get him off with your hand, but he pulls your wrists back and locks them on your sides.

“Joel,” you whine. “Fuck me. Please.”

“No can do,” Joel answers as his lips are trailing down to your stomach, where he peppers kisses all over. You scoot backwards and like reading your mind, he tugs the hem of your shorts down to your ankle before yanking it away, revealing your throbbing, desperate cunt. He then dives down, nose pressing against your mound as his tongue explores the new treasure island.

Just like in the movie.

You try to grab on something, anything, but the leather couch does nothing but squeaks, and Joel instinctively laces his fingers with yours. The view of the top of your head is exactly how you imagined it would be. The moans released from your lips are rather loud, especially when Joel creates a suction cup with his lips right on your clit.

“Joel, Joel,” you grasp his hands with all your might. “This is fucking unfair, I’m so— I’m gonna—”

Before you get to finish your sentence, your body already decides that it’s time for another release. Your heels are planted firmly against the couch as your hips lift to the air, and Joel lets go. He kneels before your cunt, pumps himself to oblivion and comes all over you before you get to collect yourself, staining your stomach and breasts. Later you’ll realize that the first spurt went a little bit rogue and landed on your hair.

“Fuck you, man,” you complain, sticking out a middle finger at him. “I was supposed to make you come.”

Joel rests his head on the couch armrest, eyes closed. “You did.”

“I meant technically,” you attempt to nudge him with your leg, but he dodges and stands up to grab the washcloth he used to compress you with earlier. He then wipes your stomach and breasts with it, the cold water making you squirm.

“What now?” you ask when he hands you your clothes.

“Sleep. It’s four in the mornin’.” he says as he puts his stained, sticky, wet boxer briefs on and sits on the recliner. So you can’t drive me mad anymore, he says.

You whine, but you realize that your eyelids are actually very heavy. “Blowjob first time in the morning?” you offer before letting yourself drift off.

“Thought you were s’pposed to be sick.” Joel shakes his head. But he grins.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #dbf!joel #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel miller x reader #tlou #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller

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maruflix · 6 months ago

Text

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!) #oneshot #hoshinasoshiro #f!reader

hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.

feat. hoshina soshiro　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.0k

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing

When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:

Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.

If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.

Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.

You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.

... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.

It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.

No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.

When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.

The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.

Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.

Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.

You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.

Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.

The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.

As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?

“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”

The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.

Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.

“’scuse me, coming through!”

The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.

Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.

Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.

Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.

“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”

Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.

“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.

“Wait!”

Did he just hear a stutter?

You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.

He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.

“AARRGGGHH!!!”

Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.

He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.

Red-faced.

He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.

If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.

You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.

The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.

“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”

You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.

“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.

Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?

“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”

Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?

Unless...

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.

You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.

“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.

Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!

“I don’t know! Maybe China!”

Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.

Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.

He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.

Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.

He didn’t hear you scream, did he?

Did he?

You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.

“Can I test something?”

You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.

“Walk with me.”

You follow him, puzzled.

Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.

Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.

“What... why?”

There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.

He absolutely knows.

You break free and run for your life.

Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.

That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.

The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.

Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.

“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.

His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.

You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.

He clears his throat.

You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.

“Vice Captain! Get out!”

Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.

“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”

You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.

“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hey, can I kiss ya?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”

Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.

“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”

You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.

“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.

It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.

You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.

You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—

“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.

You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?”

After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.

Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.

Well, you are.

But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

#maru writes...#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #kn8 hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader

1K notes · View notes

shawtuzi · 6 months ago

Text

girl you know what i wanna do, i wanna rendez-rendezvous ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

pairing: plug!toji x black fem!reader

cw include: porn with a little plot, drug usage ofc, a very minuscule mention death, oral f & m receiving, unprotected sex, smacking, choking, breath-play, some squirting, spit, lots of praise bc he’s so down bad for her while they’re fucking, PUSSYDRUNK TOJIII, backshots, prone bone position, fawking from the side, creampie n i think that’s about it!!! wc: 6.4k

ᰔ

ᡣ𐭩

“is it just a universal thing for all plugs to take for-fucking-ever to bring the weed? do they not like getting paid? this guy must really not like getting paid,” your babbling fell on deaf ears as geto and gojo focused on the game in front of them. occasionally they’d respond with a ‘uh huh’ or ‘i know right’ but this time they didn’t even have the decency to pretend to listen!

you huffed, picking at the charms on your nails, “you guys suck and so does your friend. i have plans later! i’d like to leave at a decent time to get ready.” geto whipped his head around to look at you, his brows furrowing, “i thought you were already dressed for the club…plus it’s not even dark out yet what you need to be getting ready for right now?”

“geto…wearing all fur boots? to the club? be smarter than that please,” you sighed, falling back against the couch. you whipped out your phone, sliding over the camera, “and for your information i’d like to get in a power nap before i go.” geto kissed his teeth, muttering something under his breath before his phone pinged, the sound catching your attention. before you could utter a word you were shushed by geto, a pout fell on your face as you fell back against the couch once more.

after taking a few pictures of yourself you grew bored once more—so of course you had to bother your friends some more. “so how did you guys even meet this guy? does he sell more than just weed? how long have you been buying from—”

“he’s here!”

“thank goddd! she’ll finally shut up, we won’t have to suffer any longer!” gojo tossed the controller on the table, his head falling in his hands. you grabbed your purse, taking out the money before standing. “i hate you guys i really do,” you glared at the two men before walking to the door—waiting for geto to walk out with you of course because stranger danger is very much real.

the sun was beginning to set, hues of orange, pink, and red swirling in the sky. “it’s so pretty out, i’m gonna need you to take a few pictures of me when we’re done,” you tugged down your mini skirt as you trailed behind geto.

you stood to the side as the two men talked—your curiosity getting the best of you as you peeked through the window. the windows were tinted of course, but you could still get a glimpse inside. now you didn’t know shit about cars but this was nice. “i wonder how far that seat goes back,” you mumbled to yourself, a small smile creeping on your lips. damn ovulation.

geto eventually moved to side, signaling that it was your turn. you straightened your back as you approached the window, your jaw almost dropping at the man in front of you. you nearly fell over when the first thing he said was ‘you’re pretty.’

“thank you, um, how much do i owe you again?” you asked, gripping the cash in your hand. toji looked you up in down, a smirk making its way onto his lips, “i like your tattoo.” he pointed to the area below your breast where ‘divine feminine’ was tatted across the curve in cursive. you grazed the tattoo with your manicured nail, your cheeks heating up.

toji opened the bag that contained your eighth before throwing a little extra weed in the baggie. he wrapped it up before holding it out for you, the baggie looking extra small in his big hand. “how much do you i owe—”

“it’s on me.”

now this made you really smile, your tooth gems now on display. “reallyyy?” you giggled, nibbling on your bottom lip. toji nodded, his eyes drifting to that damn tattoo again. his eyes flicked back to yours, “you just gotta do one little thing for me,” he spoke lowly, fist closing over the baggie. you stepped closer to the window, your heart pounding against your chest.

“and what’s that?” you fiddled with the end of your skirt, his intense eye contact now making you feel small.

“tell me your name, please?”

when you said it he practically swooned, his palms now feeling sweaty because he hasn’t felt this way since her. “such a pretty name…y/n….i like it,” toji licked his lips, his fist opening once more to hand you the weed. sure his hand might’ve lingered a little longer than it should’ve but you surely weren’t complaining.

“if you ever need some more please let me be the first person you come to, i wanna see you again. s’not everyday a guy comes across a pretty thing like yourself. you can get my number from sugu,” you had completely forgotten geto was waiting with you, but when you turned around he was nowhere to be found.

“must’ve went inside…eh whatever, now what were you saying?” you smiled, leaning against the car. since you were both clearly flirting you might as well give the man a little something to fantasize about. “it was very nice meeting you y/n, i hope i see you again soon,” toji gave you one last smile before pulling off, leaving you by yourself.

geto and gojo were rolling up when you came back inside, immersed in their own conversation. “you guys didn’t tell me your plug was so fucking hottttt!” you squealed, falling back into the couch, your feet kicking back and forth with excitement. “he’s so generous too….and so so cute. that scar on his lip is so sexy and he’s so big i wonder how big—”

“don’t say another word i’m begging,” gojo whined, covering his poor ears. the kissed your teeth now sitting up, “that man will be mine i’m telling you guys, he should be very scared because now i’m on the prowl.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

unknown number: hi! is this toji?

unknown number: it’s y/n from the other day, i was wondering if you were available to bring me a little something?

toji smiled at his phone, immediately saving your number. he’d hate to even admit it to himself, but he’s been anticipating a text from you for days. he just couldn’t get you outta his head! your smile, your cute lil doe eyes, your scent. you smelt so sweet, like the most expensive candies you get out for special occasions.

you made his chest tight, his palms sweaty, and his jeans tight as fuck—he just had to have you.

toji: send me your address.

toji: i’m omw.

“oooh shit—okay okay time to lock in,” you jumped up, quickly shedding your pj’s for a cuter, yet still cozy outfit to wear for toji. you settled on an oversized knit olive colored sweater and a long brown cotton skirt—yes it was an outfit that showed less skin than you were used to but hey it’s fall and hoes do get cold sometimes! just asked you were finished up adding the rest of your jewelry your phone pinged.

toji: i’m outside.

you suddenly felt nauseous, but the good kind—the excited kind of nauseous where butterflies where swarming all around your tummy. on the walk to toji’s car you held your chin up with confidence, the bracelets on your wrist dangling as you damn near strutted to the man’s car.

toji rolled the window down, a cloud of smoke swirling out of the window. “hey girl, how’re ya?” toji asked, setting the blunt he was smoking aside. you giggled, bending down to lean against the window.

“hi tojiii! m’doin’ good? you?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. toji hummed, shrugging his shoulders, “i’m okay, just been working.” it was silent for a few beats before he spoke again:

“i’m glad you texted, took you long enough,” he chuckled as he bagged up your weed, not even bothering to scale it. out of instinct your brought your hands to your cheeks, the coolness of your hands bringing you some relief. he just made you so beside yourself and for what???

“well now that you have my number maybe you could drop by and we could just, you know, hangout?” there you went again giving him those doe eyes as you asked your question in the sweetest voice. toji sealed up the baggie and held it out for you, “i’d like that a lot y/n.” the way your named rolled off his tongue felt so right.

as you both continued to talk toji could notice you were shivering despite wearing that big ass sweater. “do you wanna sit in here for a minute? finish this with me?” he asked holding up the half smoked blunt. you nodded with zero hesitation, quickly making your way to the passenger side. you were immediately met with warmth as you got in the car, your body relaxing into the heated seat.

“if this sounds too rude you don’t have to answer and i apologize if it does but….how old are you? i’m not saying you look real old or anything you just look, like, more mature,” you fingers anxiously tapped against your thighs, itching to grasp at the muscles practically bulging from his compressed t-shirt.

toji laughed. not just a little chuckle or breath through the nose, but a real genuine laugh. it was amazing to say the least.

“believe it or not i’m thirty four,” he gave you a toothy grin before sparking the blunt. your eyes nearly popped out of your head at his words. this man??? thirty four???

“ohhh so you are an old man,” you giggled, the sound of your laugh giving his chest that irritatingly tight feeling again. toji playfully rolled his eyes, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to you. “i swear once you get past twenty five everyone suddenly thinks you’re old,” and he was certainly was not wrong. he’d lost count if he many times geto and gojo called him old man just to piss him off.

“i may be a little older but i still fuck like i’m twenty one,” toji rested against the seat, his eyes flicking to you. your mouth was slightly agape as you tried to tried to think of something smart to say back but unfortunately you were left speechless. you took a hit of the blunt, turning your body more towards him. “is that so?” you asked, passing the blunt to him.

toji nodded slowly, his eyes now low and red. before either of you could say anything else toji’s phone lit up, and you being the nosey thing you were couldn’t help but glance at his phone. “who’s baby is that?” you asked pointing his lock screen. toji smiled at the picture before looking back up at you, his smile faltering the slightest bit.

“that’s…that’s my son.”

it was quiet for a few beats before you broke into a big smile, a tiny squeal slipping past your lips as you picked up his phone to examine the picture. “he’s a cutie! look at those eyes—oh and those little cheeks! he looks just like you toji,” you giggled, handing the phone back to him. toji grinned, taking his phone back from you.

“ahh thanks! he looks more like his mother to me, acts just like her too,” your eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the boys mother. “i take it you guys aren’t together anymore?” you asked, cocking your head to the side.

toji was silent for a moment, his throat tightening at the mention of her. “she, uh, passed actually. a few months after megumi was born,” it was silent once again, toji was now avoiding eye contact with you. he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt you place a comforting hand on his knee. he whipped his head towards you, an apologetic look now on your face. “i’m sorry to hear that toji, but for what it’s worth i bet you’re an awesome fucking dad,” you gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling away.

“thank you, seriously. it feels nice to hear that because somedays i really wish she was here, not for me but for him. she was amazing i wish he got to know her the way i did,” toji was never the type to talk about his late wife, especially with someone he was trying to pursue, but you were different. you made him feel so safe and he barely even fucking knew you.

before he could babble anymore about her he stopped himself, fearing he’d make it even more awkward. “she sounds great toji m’sorry you lost her so soon. don’t worry though i’m sure you’ll find another love like that again,” and you meant every word you said.

“i can’t believe it’s only our second time speaking and i’ve already managed to bring up my dead wife, fuck am i doing?” he chuckled, throwing his head back against the seat. you quickly reassured him that all was well and you were grateful that he was felt so comfortable to share such a personal side of his life with you.

“i’d love to stay and talk more but gumi’s sitter has to leave early. ill see you again soon though yeah?” toji couldn’t help but brush his knuckles over the apple of your cheek, grinning when he felt the heat radiating from it. “you blushin’?” his grin now turning into a smirk.

“get away from me,” you swatted his hand away, unable to contain the smile forming on your glossed up lips. “this was real fun though, don’t keep me waiting too long now,” you gave toji one last smile before getting out of his car. the second he pulled away you whipped out your phone, immediately dialing your best friends number.

“hey…you busy? no? good because i needddd to talk about what just happened with someone.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

toji: hey pretty.

toji: you free? i wanna see you.

you squealed, kicking your feet with glee as you read toji’s messages. tonight was the night. after two months of unbearable sexual tension you were gonna claim that man in more ways than one. you quickly texted him back saying you were indeed available and to hurry his ass up.

you made your way to your closet, sifting through your clothes to find the outfit. you needed something that’ll make his head spin and dick hard…perhaps some subtle lingerie would do the job.

you finally settled on a lacy, red wine colored nightgown that showed just enough to have him wanting to see more. you brushed out your thirty inch bussdown, tugging it just the tiniest bit to see if it’d stay in place. toji was a big man and he looked like a hair puller—you were hoping you were wrong but if he was you were certainly praying your hair stayed in tact at least a little after he was through with you.

toji: i’m here. hurry it’s cold as fuck out here.

you took a deep breath, channeling your inner tina snow as you opened the door for him. “hi tojiii,” you beamed, resting your body against the door. toji’s jaw was quite literally almost to the floor as he took you in. if he looked close enough he could see your pretty lil nipple piercings through the nightgown.

“come in! come in! it’s freezing out there,” you tugged toji in your house by his sleeve, quickly shutting the door once he was inside. “what’re you all….dressed up for,” he asked lowly, nearly crushing the rello packets in his hand.

be patient. don’t get too excited. be patient.

he kept chanting that over and over in his mind but it was doing little to help him, especially since he was already sporting a semi. “oh i just thought i’d put on a little something nice for you i don’t know,” you could feel your confidence faltering under his lustful stare.

“well,” toji took a step closer to you, and then another, and then another till you both were nearly chest to chest. “i think you look really nice, sweet of you to get all dolled up for me,” he trailed his fingers over the material of your robe, chuckling the tiniest bit when he saw your bt21 cooky slippers. you looked up at him through your freshly done lashes, a grin making its way onto your lips.

you slipped your smaller hand into toji’s, guiding him to the living room. he wasted no time getting comfortable, his body immediately relaxing into the plushness of your couch. you sat on the opposite end of the much to his dismay, “why you so far away from me hm? come closer.” with shaky arms you scooted closer to him until your thighs were nearly touching, but it still wasn’t quite enough for him.

you let out a tiny gasp as toji easily picked you up and say you on his lap, you could feel the full throb of his dick against your ass. “that’s better,” he smirked, squeezing your hip gently.

it was silent for a few beats before you took the rello packet from toji, two pre rolled blunts waiting in there to be smoked. “so how long do i have you for tonight?” you asked, sparking the blunt. toji ran his tongue over the scar on his lip as he watched you exhale the smoke, not even realizing you had asked him a question.

“i have until eleven, gumi’s sitter was nice enough to stay an extra hour,” ever since toji had accidentally slipped up that he’d been seeing someone megumi’s sitter has been extra generous with her time. it probably helped that she was also getting paid some very hefty overtime. you glanced at the clock on your wall reading 7:18PM. only three hours and a couple something minutes of him to yourself—it was definitely time to kick things into overdrive.

“toji?” you spoke softly, passing the blunt to him. toji hummed, taking a long drag of the blunt as he stroked your back with his free hand. you readjusted your position on his lap, your arms now wrapped securely around his neck. the next six words that came out of your mouth nearly had him busting in his pants.

“you finally gonna fuck me tonight?”

“what did you just say?” his tone was low now, boarder line growling out the words. you sighed dreamily, brushing his soft, jet black hair out of his face. “i said are you finally gonna fuck me tonight? finally gonna show me you’re not such an old man?” your manicured fingers began to scratch at his nape, making him groan. toji closed his eyes, his head falling back against the couch.

“take off your robe.”

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“tojiii,” you whined in defeat as toji sloppily kissed, sucked, and licked at the insides of your thighs—so close yet so far from where you really needed him to be. you made a few attempts to take your thong off but toji was having none of that and slapped your hands away each time, threatening to tie your wrist together with his belt if you tried it again.

you mewled when you felt his lips finally kiss your center over your panties, his tongue lolling out to get a taste at the wetness that seeped through them. your hands were balled into fists by your side, the urge to hump his face becoming unbearable.

“lift your hips up honey,” you heard his raspy voice speak from below you. you nearly screeched in happiness as he finally slid off your soaked panties, tiny webs of your slick sticking to your pussy. you jumped the tiniest bit when you felt a warm glob of spit fall on your clit.

“relax sweetness i got you,” was all toji said before dipping his tongue between your folds, immediately moaning at the sweet yet tart taste that was you. you felt his tongue cup your clit, the movements so soft and precise and it had your eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

you’ve been with men who claim they eat pussy for their own pleasure but toji….it was like he was making love to you with just his mouth the feeling the indescribable. each gush of your essence that spilled out was quickly slurped up by his greedy mouth, his moans nearly matching the volume of yours.

he was now drawing slow circles around your clit and that was what had your legs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing as you came on his skillful tongue. “t-toji you’re so goodddd,” you whined, shoving his face impossibly closer to your pussy.

toji finally released your clit from his lips with a pop! your cum now coating the entire lower half of his face. “do it again n’ this time put a finger in…please?” your brushed your thumb over his lips, whimpering when he sucked your thumb into his mouth. he ran his pointer and middle finger between your folds before pushing his middle finger inside, cursing under his breath at the way you were already squeezing his finger so fucking tight.

“you taste just as good as you smell pretty baby, i just knew you would though,” he licked his lips, not once taking his eyes off your cunt. “why’d you keep her from me for so long huh?” he rasped, slowly adding his ring finger into the mix. you squirmed underneath him, your hips rising each time he fucked his fingers into you. “i, uh, i-i don’t know i just—”

“you just what?” he teased, now sucking your clit into his mouth once more. your mouth dropped open, thighs immediately closing around toji’s head. you gasped wetly when you felt a rough smack against your thigh, a silent warning from toji to keep them open. you shakily opened your thighs again, your hands now finding purchase in toji’s soft locs. “you still ain’t answer my question,” he hummed, now rubbing sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb.

you shook your head in defeat, physically not being able to find the words as to why you deprived him and yourself of something so so good. “you liked teasing me pretty baby? ya liked sending me home with my dick hard each time i saw you? hm?” the squelching from your pussy got louder by the minute, you second orgasm of the night quickly approaching.

“i—”

“did you like feeling wanted by me? needed by me?” toji was now using his free hand to push down on your abdomen, smirking when he saw your legs start to shake again. all you could let out was an absurdly loud ‘oh shit!’ before you were gushing around toji’s fingers, a small stream of cum landing right on his awaiting tongue. his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he slurped up every drop you had to offer him. he hadn’t even noticed he was now grinding against the couch, his dick now fully hard.

toji pushed your nightgown up your tummy so he was able to kiss his way up your soft skin until he finally made it to your lips. he brought his thumb to your chin, pushing down ever so slightly until your mouth was open. you knew that look all too well. you could see the hesitation in his eyes so you helped him out a bit by sticking out your tongue, letting him know he had the green light.

not even a second later toji let a glob of spit fall from lips and onto your awaiting tongue, a lovesick smile making its way onto his lips as you swallowed it. “c’mere,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against yours as he shoved his tongue in your mouth. he caressed his tongue against yours, swallowing each tiny moan you let out.

“so sweet baby, even your kisses taste like honey,” he moaned against your lips, pressing his dick against your pussy. he shuddered when he felt just how warm you really were, even over his sweatpants.

“you’re so hard toji,” you whispered against his lips, your foot stretched up to push against his dick making him groan. “lemme—lemme suck you off. can i please? just a little bit?” you continued rubbing your foot against him, internally turning him into a pile of mush. toji mindlessly nodded his head, making quick work to sit back on the couch.

you stood up on shaky legs, now kneeling before toji as he stared at you like you were his prey. you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them off with ease. toji sighed in relief when his dick finally sprung free, no longer confined by his boxers.

“your dick is so pretty,” you bit down on your bottom lip, taking just a little time to admire toji in all his glory. he was long and not only that but he was insanely thick. you grabbed his dick gently, the soft, velvety skin making your mouth water. “don’t be nervous if you can’t take all of it, i know i’m kinda big,” although he sounded apologetic the shit eating grin on his face said otherwise. you had to prove yourself now—you had to give him some fucking work now.

you licked your lips before suckling the tip in your mouth, lord he was already a damn mouthful. toji hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long sigh, his head slightly tilting back. you kissed and licked your way up and down his dick, trying to make it as wet as you could before taking half of him in your mouth with ease. “a-ah shit y/n w-wait oh!” the back of his head nearly knocked against the couch as you took the rest of him in your mouth.

your throat felt so tight n hot around him it had him digging his nails into his muscly thighs, nearly drawing blood. you hummed around his dick, trying to relax your throat as much as possible. you knew he was close already, you didn’t even care if he came down your throat that instant. toji felt his balls tighten and began to frantically shake his head, “y/n please i don’t wanna cum so soon. please baby please.”

you brought your hand to his balls, now gently massaging them. he wanted to pull you away he really did, but no one has ever been able to deepthroat entirely before—you were showing him a whole new world. you began to bob your head, obnoxiously sucking on the base and tip as you did. “s-shit wait—”

unfortunately for toji it was too late for him. you felt a shot of cum hit your tongue and knew you had to milk him now for everything he was worth. you focused your lips solely on the tip, moaning as cum coated your tongue. “that’s so good baby keep sucking me like that, j-jus’ like that,” he ain’t even give a fuck no more that he came so soon. he had enough stamina to give you another mouthful of cum if you wanted it.

you finally removed his dick from your mouth, now slapping the appendage against your tongue. “now what were you saying about being too big for me,” you smiled up at him, both of your hands still stroking his dick. toji kissed his teeth, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he made quick work to remove his shirt, tossing it mindlessly to the side.

“get up here and bend over the armrest,” his voice had dropped a couple octaves and although it was a little frightening it didn’t stop the wetness pooling in your core. you stood up, about to remove your nightgown but you were stopped by toji, mumbling something about how he wanted you to keep it on.

you kneeled on the couch, bending over the armrest as you arched your back as much as possible. you could hear the crinkling of foil and quickly turned around, shaking your head at toji. “i want you raw, ‘wanna feel all of you without a stupid condom,” you nibbled on your bottom lip nervously as you voiced your request. toji was still for a moment, his eyes never leaving yours.

after a moment he tossed the condom aside, his hands now finding purchase on your hips. you could feel the hot base of his dick against your pussy, and you just couldn’t help but slowly move your hips back and forth. you both moaned in unison, the grip toji had on your hips now tightening.

“put it in for me,” he grunted, pulling his hips back. you licked your hand before reaching underneath you to grab his dick, giving it a few slow pumps before positioning the tip at your entrance. toji’s face scrunched up in pleasure as your pussy swallowed up his dick with ease, the dull stinging sensation hurting you in the best way possible.

it took a few minutes but he was finally able to bottom out, the tip of his dick nearly kissing your cervix. he pulled out halfway before slamming back in, the couch shifting forward the slightest bit. “good little fucking pussy,” toji grunted, spreading your asscheeks to get a nice little view of his dick fucking into you. you were taking him sooo well he was sooo proud of you.

“how you feeling pretty baby? talk to me,” toji wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling your body into his chest. your arms immediately reached behind you to tug at his hair, each tug earning you a pretty moan from him right in your ear. “feels s’good to-toji, you’re so f-fucking deep,” you gasped violently when you felt his rough fingers begin to toy with your swollen clit.

toji nibbled at your ear, licking the shell of it before whispering, “yeah? pretty girl feels me in her tummy hm? oh yeah i can feel me rightttt there.” your body jolted when you felt toji press down on the small imprint of his dick. he tightened his grip around your throat, nearly cutting off your airway completely.

“lets play a little game hm? i can feel how close you are so m’not gonna let you breathe until i feel this pussy cumming around my dick, that okay with you?” he loosened his grip on your neck until you consented, he couldn’t help but smile proudly.

“alright pretty baby cmon, make that pussy cum for me,” he growled now increasing the pace of his thrusts. it was now very hard for you to breathe as toji tightened his hand around your throat once again, the action making your pussy squeeze toji’s dick impossibly tight. your mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out of your mouth as toji fucked you like he hated your guys. “almost there girl, i can fucking feel that shit cmon baby give it to me,” toji grasped at your breasts over your nightgown, tweaking at your sensitive nipples.

you began to feel lightheaded, your legs nearly giving out on you. you finally came with a silent scream, your pussy spasming around toji’s dick. just as you were at the height of your orgasm toji finally removed his hand from your throat allowing you to breathe. you fell against the armrest, your body going completely limp as toji milked your orgasm out of your. “goddamn you’re still cumming baby, such a good girl for me m’so proud of you,” toji was praising you left and right as stream after stream of your cum soaked his thighs and the couch.

after you were done toji let you rest for a moment, still inside you as he gently stroked your back. “you okay mama?” he whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a soft kiss. you hummed, nodding your head and crazy enough you still wanted more.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

“oh my goddd,” your feet kicked against the couch as toji’s bigger body pushed you further into the cushions, preventing you from moving out of his grasp. he had you in a chokehold, your drool and tears dripping onto his bicep as he fucked into you like a madman. “that’s that shit….good shit right here goddamn y/n,” toji grunted in your ear, sounding genuinely frustrated at just how good your pussy was.

my mans was completely lost in the sauce. not a thought behind his eyes besides one thing—you. your warmth, your wetness, the fact that you still smelled like a goddamn s’more even with the intense smell of sex and weed in the air. for the first time in his life toji was pussydrunk.

“m’gonna cum honey, you ready for me?” a symphony of moans and whiny yes’ poured out of your trembling lips. three more strokes and toji was letting out a pornographic moan, his teeth biting down onto the soft skin of shoulder. rope after rope of his warm cum coated your walls, so much it was beginning to leak from your pussy. “so full,” you mewled, your toes curling at the warmth that now radiated throughout your entire body.

toji wholeheartedly believes that he was a man that was born to breed a whole lotta babies because it was absolutely ridiculous at how much he came—especially right now. each time he thought he was done your pussy would squeeze him once more, milking more out of him until it was almost painful. what was even worse was the he was still hard.

that’s how he ended up taking you roughly from the side. your ass was clapping back against his pelvis n thighs so hard they turned the lightest shade of pink. “y’hear how sloppy your pussy sounds honey? makes me wanna ruin you over and over again,” he growled in your ear, gripping onto your chin to have you look at him. your eyes were closed in bliss, a trail of drool slipping from your lips and onto your chin.

toji licked at the spit on your chin before giving your face a couple quick slaps, “open your eyes n’ look at me while i fuck you. cmon pretty baby lemme see those eyes.” you cracked your eyes open immediately whimpering at toji’s intense gaze. toji slowed down his pace, now settling for slow, deep strokes. “you’re so pretty,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

you gave him a weak smile, moaning when his dick hit a particularly deep spot. “can’t nobody else see you like this again except me got it? you’re my girl now. mine to hold, kiss, fuck—i want all that shit y/n. i want all of you, can i have you?” if you able to you would’ve swooned over his words, but unfortunately all your poor little fucked up brain could muster was a raspy ‘yes.’

toji gave you a sweet smile and a lil kiss before going back to his brutal pace, the couch thumping the ground with each thrust. “that’s what i like to hear honey, gonna treat you so well. make you the happiest girl in the world i promise,” and he meant it. every promise he whispered in your ear he would make sure to keep it until the end of his days. you were the one—he was sure of it.

“i’m gonna cum toji,” you whined, bringing your hand down to rub furiously at your clit. toji gave you a helping hand by spreading your lips, the squelching noise from your pussy increasing as he did so. “m’gonna cum too honey, let’s do it together cmon m’right there,” you both so so close until toji accidentally slipped out of your pussy, a pearl of cum dribbling from the tip.

you were just too wet he could barely fuck into you without slipping out once more, frustration overtaking the both you. “goddammit,” he grunted, gripping his dick tightly once again before slipping back in you—this time he just kept a hold on it. “fuck back into me baby, you can do it there you go,” toji moaned in bliss as you fucked back into him, your wetness dripping onto his knuckles.

“yes yes yes f-fuck!” you pressed your backside into him as much as possible as your orgasm took over you, his trailing not far behind. the hand he was using to hold his dick steady was now holding your leg up, gripping onto the soft flesh of your thigh as he fucked into you with shallow strokes. he came inside your pussy with a deep groan, pulling out to cover your pussy with the rest of it.

toji gently set your leg down, now pulling your trembling body into his chest. “it’s okay pretty thing we’re done now, i got you just breathe with me,” you took a couple deep breaths, running your hand along toji’s toned body just to make sure he was really there—that this really happened.

“that was good, thank you toji,” you whispered, nuzzling your face in his chest. toji kissed the crown of your head, taking yet another deep inhale of your sweet scent. “no thank you, that was the best sex i’ve ever fucking had and i mean it,” he chuckled, giving your shoulder a loving squeeze. you glanced at the clock on your wall, whining when you said it was thirty minutes till eleven.

“i guess you’ll have to get going soon hm?” you mumbled, making toji frown. toji nibbled on his lip before shaking his head, “don’t worry about it honey i’ll take care of it, you just rest up yeah?” he gave your forehead another kiss, shushing any protest you had about him having to leave.

once you were fast asleep toji reached for his phone that was on the coffee table, careful not to wake you. he dialed the sitters number, praying for the absolute best.

“mr. fushiguro! how’s your date going, will you be home soon?” toji felt horrible for what he was about to ask but he at least had to try. “it’s going good, thank you! actually i was wondering if you would stay the night with megumi? paying you overtime is no problem in fact i’ll triple it! i just wanna spend as much time with my girlfriend as i can,” sure he hadn’t properly asked you to be his woman yet but she didn’t have to know that.

the line was quiet for a moment before the sitter started laughing, “of course i wouldn’t mind saying the night with him! i haven’t seen you this giddy over a woman since mrs. fushiguro, please enjoy your night and i’ll see you in the morning!” after multiple thank you’s toji hung up, his heart swelling with happiness.

“baby….hey i’m able to stay the night im gonna take us to bed, where’s your room?” you mumbled out the directions to your room and before you knew it you were wrapped in your comforter with toji glued to your side.

#toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #jjk x reader

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airybcby · 10 months ago

Text

We've Already Done It In My Head ;)

( kissing with the haikyuu boys )

a / n — was listening to guilty as sin? by taylor swift and knew i had to write something for my boys

content — haikyuu! boys x GN! reader, some suggestive parts, some characters repeated,

synopsis — just kissing with the haikyuu boys <3

✿.｡. “ without ever touching his skin, ” .｡.✿

Always feels like the first time

they're always so giddy to give you a kiss, whether it be a small peck or a full make out session, they are always bouncing up and down in excitement. while they're always the most excited to kiss you, they're also so insanely clumsy about it too.

you couldn't keep count of how many times the two of you had clinked your teeth together, accidentally headbutted each other, and even accidentally bitten each others lips.

maybe it wasn't always the most picture perfect kiss, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

after all, people do say they wish they could experience their firsts again, and you get that anytime you're around them.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ HINATA SHOYO, shohei fukunaga, YAMAGUCHI TADASHI, asahi azumane, TOBIO KAGEYAMA

Always turns into a make-out session

if there was one thing that was 100% certain in your life, it was that you could never kiss them in a purely innocent way. you could be in a very - and i mean VERY - public place, and if you want to give them a small peck?

nope, it's turning into a whole pda session. sometimes you don't mind, but other times you're a little embarrassed because of their boldness.

even while you're at a big event, they have to have their hands on you at all times. "you look so good right now." ignore. "wanna kiss you so bad." ignore. "wanna go to the bathroom?" ignore, ignore, ig-freaking-nore!

if the two of you can get through the whole evening without a big display, maybe you'll reward him when you get home ;)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ATSUMU MIYA, korai hoshiumi, BOKUTO KOTARO, hinata shoyo

Always ends up in you getting what you want

it's not nice to manipulate people, especially not by kissing them until they can't tell you no. your boyfriend was a meanie. nothing more and absolutely nothing less.

all you wanted was to watch a rom-com for your weekly movie night, but nooo, they wanted to watch some boring history retelling film. you weren't sure if they really wanted to watch it or if they were only putting it on to piss you off.

so, of course, what else were you supposed to do besides slide yourself onto their lap and start kissing them until you could slip the remote from their hands and into yours.

" i hate you." he grumbled as you switched from the boring documentary to one of your favorite rom-coms of all time.

" no, you love me. " "...sadly."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ KEI TSUKISHIMA, suna rintaro, OSAMU MIYA, TETSURO KUROO, yaku morisuke

Always gives the perfect kisses

they're literally a perfect specimen, it's really unfair.

you're sad? they're always there giving you small kisses on your head, forehead, and of course your lips. you're in the mood to just be hateful? he's there rubbing your back and kissing your temple while nodding along to your words.

there is no place in the world where they won't fit in perfectly.

and you're just lucky enough to be part of it.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ AKAASHI KEIJI, koshi sugawara, KITA SHINSUKE, toru oikawa, HAJIME IWAZUMI

✿.｡. “ how can i be guilty as sin ? ” .｡.✿

thanks for reading!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

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mcrdvcks · 4 months ago

Text

7 minutes

chapter summary: You own a small bakery in Westchester. One day, Logan comes in for an order for the X-Mansion. After that he becomes a regular—something he persistently denies.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm a sucker for baker!reader and logan. though this version of reader is a little bit more extroverted and less 'innocent' than the other baker!reader's i've seen. anyways, this is my entry for @yxtkiwiyxt and @lubdubology's valentine's writing challenge!

i'm not a valentine's girly, maybe because i just find it to be a commercial holiday with no meaning (or maybe because i'm 20 and my only valentine has been my dogs) but i hate chocolate and the holiday so...

warnings/tags: baker!reader, fluff, wrote this with x2 logan in mind, but you can imagine any logan, not proofread

Anytime the X-Mansion had a special occasion, they got baked goods from your bakery—a small shop in Westchester.

The first time Logan met you was by accident, or rather an order given to him by Jean. “It’s Rogue’s birthday. You don’t want her to miss out on havin’ a cake, do ya?”

Logan grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. He wasn’t in the mood for errands, but Jean had a way of making things sound like a guilt trip, and he wasn’t about to deal with that all day. So, here he was, pushing open the door to some small bakery he’d never been to before. The smell of sugar and vanilla hit him immediately, warm and inviting, but he didn’t care about that—he just wanted to get the cake and get out.

The place wasn’t busy, just a couple of customers sitting at tables, sipping coffee. He stepped up to the counter, glancing at the display case full of pastries, then tapped the little bell once. A moment later, you stepped out from the back, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Hey, sorry about that—oh.” Your eyes flicked up, and you did a quick once-over, taking in the broad-shouldered, grumpy-looking man standing at your counter. “You’re definitely not Jean.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’.” Logan exhaled, already regretting this. “She sent me to pick up a cake for Rogue.”

“Right. The X-Mansion order.” You nodded, disappearing into the back. “Give me a sec.”

Logan drummed his fingers against the counter, glancing around. The place was small but homey, shelves lined with small bags of cookies, muffins, and whatever else people liked to buy on impulse. It smelled good—annoyingly good.

You came back out a few moments later, balancing a cake box in your hands. “Here it is. Vanilla with chocolate frosting, right?”

“Beats me. Jean just said ‘get the damn cake.’”

You huffed a short laugh, setting it down and ringing it up. “Well, let’s hope she ordered what Rogue actually likes.” You gave him a once-over again, tilting your head slightly. “You new around here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Logan pulled out his wallet, shaking his head. “Been stayin’ at the mansion a while now. Just don’t do bakery runs.”

“Shame. You seem like the type to appreciate a good cinnamon roll.”

He gave you a flat look. “Dunno what that means.”

“It means you’re a grumpy bastard, and grumpy bastards usually like cinnamon rolls.” You smirked, sliding the cake box toward him. “I have a self-proclaimed ability to guess what people like. You’re either cinnamon roll or an apple pie.”

Logan huffed, eyeing you like he couldn’t decide if you were messing with him or just plain strange. “That so?”

“Mm-hmm.” You leaned on the counter, clearly entertained by his skepticism. “And my guesses are usually spot-on.”

Logan crossed his arms. “What if I don’t like either?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then you’re just lying to yourself.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “This what you do? Size people up based on pastries?”

“Works better than you’d think.” You tapped the counter lightly. “So, which one is it? Cinnamon roll or apple pie?”

Logan gave you a flat look, then sighed. “Pie.”

You grinned like you’d just won a bet. “Knew it.”

“Tch. Lucky guess.” He grabbed the cake box and turned toward the door, already done with this conversation.

“Uh-huh, sure.” You leaned on the counter, watching him. “Come back when you’re not on a mission, and I’ll prove it.”

He paused, just for a second, then shook his head and walked out. The bell over the door chimed behind him.

“See you later, sugar,” you called after him.

He didn’t look back, but you swore you saw the faintest twitch of amusement before the door swung shut.

---

It had been a few months since the last time Logan had been over to your bakery. Then Scott and Ororo cornered him, telling him that “it was the least he could do for Jubilee.”

“I’m not goin’ to the damn bakery again.” Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Scott sighed, unimpressed. “Logan, come on. It’s just a cake.”

“You say that like it’s a quick in-and-out job,” Logan grumbled. “Last time I went, I got roped into some damn conversation about cinnamon rolls.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow. “And that was… a problem?”

“Yes.”

Scott and Ororo exchanged a look.

“Look, Jean’s busy, and we’re in the middle of planning the party,” Scott said, folding his arms. “All you have to do is pick up the order. That’s it. No small talk, no distractions.”

Logan exhaled sharply. “Fine.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Scott smirked.

Logan ignored him, grabbed his jacket, and headed out.

---

The bakery smelled just as annoyingly good as last time. Logan stepped inside, tapping the bell on the counter once, hoping you wouldn’t be as chatty this time.

You appeared from the back, wiping your hands on your apron before looking up. The second you saw him, a slow grin spread across your face.

“Well, well. Thought I scared you off for good.”

Logan sighed. “M’just here for the cake.”

“Uh-huh.” You grabbed the order slip from the counter. “Jubilee’s birthday, right?”

He gave a short nod.

You disappeared into the back, and Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed. The place wasn’t too busy, just a few customers sitting at the tables, chatting over coffee. It was cozy, warm, the kind of place people probably lingered in for hours. Not his thing.

You came back a moment later with a cake box, setting it down in front of him. “Vanilla with strawberry filling. I think she mentioned something about pink being mandatory.”

Logan pulled out his wallet. “You keep track of all your customers’ favorite cakes?”

You shrugged, ringing him up. “Just the regulars.”

He scoffed. “I ain’t a regular.”

“Not yet.” You smirked, handing him his change. “Though, I gotta admit, I’m a little disappointed.”

Logan frowned. “What now?”

“You never came back for me to prove I was right about the pie.”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t see a reason to.”

“Oh, there was a reason.” You leaned on the counter, tilting your head slightly. “You just didn’t wanna admit I was right. Which is why you can’t get the cake until you try a slice of pie.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “You serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You crossed your arms, matching his stare with a smirk. “One bite. That’s all I’m asking.”

Logan exhaled sharply, glancing at the cake box like it might disappear if he didn’t grab it fast enough. “I don’t got time for this.”

“Oh, but you do.” You were already turning, heading for the back. “Sit tight.”

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, but he stayed put.

A minute later, you came back with a small plate, a fork, and a slice of apple pie. You set it down in front of him like you were presenting something sacred. “Here. Try it.”

Logan glanced around, already regretting this. A couple of customers had noticed, though no one was paying too much attention. Still, he felt like he was being set up. “This ain’t poisoned, is it?”

You snorted. “Please. If I wanted to take you out, I’d do it the old-fashioned way.”

“Comfortin’.” He picked up the fork, giving you one last look before taking a bite.

Warm, just the right amount of cinnamon, flaky crust—damn it. He hated when people were right.

You leaned on the counter, waiting expectantly. “Well?”

Logan chewed, swallowed, and grunted. “S’fine.”

Your grin widened. “Fine?”

“Yeah.” He took another bite, mostly out of spite. “Nothin’ special.”

“Oh, now you’re just lying.” You tapped the counter. “Admit it. I was right.”

Logan shoved another piece into his mouth, refusing to say anything.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pushed the plate back slightly and reached for the cake. “That enough of a taste test for ya?”

“For now.” You slid the cake toward him, clearly enjoying this way too much. “But next time? You’re trying the cinnamon roll.”

Logan grabbed the box and turned for the door. “Ain’t gonna be a next time.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

The bell chimed as he stepped outside, but he caught your voice just before the door swung shut.

“See ya, sugar.”

---

The bell over the bakery door chimed as Logan stepped inside, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was here. No one sent him this time—no guilt trips from Jean, no nagging from Scott. Just… a damn craving, apparently.

You looked up from behind the counter, eyebrows lifting in surprise before a slow smirk tugged at your lips. “Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

Logan grunted, eyes flicking to the display case. “M’just here to pick somethin’ up.”

“Oh, sure. Totally believe that.” You leaned on the counter, chin resting in your palm. “Let me guess—apple pie?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re way too smug about this.”

“Because I was right.” You straightened up and grabbed a slice of pie from the case, sliding it onto a small plate. “But, you know, since you’re here, might as well test another theory.”

Logan eyed you warily. “What theory?”

Without answering, you turned and grabbed something else, placing it next to the pie—a cinnamon roll, warm and fresh from the oven.

You tapped the counter. “Go on.”

Logan huffed. “I didn’t ask for that.”

“Consider it a challenge.” You smirked. “If you don’t like it, I’ll let you walk out of here without any ‘I told you so’s.’”

He eyed you, then the cinnamon roll, then back at you. “…And if I do?”

“Then I get to gloat forever.”

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath, but grabbed the plate anyway. Pulling out a few bills, he slid them across the counter.

You rang him up, watching as he hesitated before finally tearing off a piece of the cinnamon roll and popping it into his mouth.

His chewing slowed. You caught the slightest flicker of something—not quite annoyance, not quite satisfaction—before he swallowed.

“Well?” You leaned forward, grinning.

Logan picked up his plate. “M’leavin’.”

You laughed. “That good, huh? You know, you could just say ‘thank you’ like a normal person.”

Logan scoffed, tearing off another piece of the cinnamon roll. “Ain’t my style.”

You smirked, resting your elbows on the counter. “Yeah, no kidding. You’re more of the grumble and disappear type.”

He didn’t argue, just kept eating like acknowledging you would give you more reason to gloat. The place wasn’t too busy, which meant you had all the time in the world to mess with him—not exactly the outcome he was hoping for when he walked in.

“So, what’s the verdict?” You tapped your fingers against the counter. “Cinnamon roll or apple pie?”

Logan chewed, swallowed, and exhaled through his nose. “Pie.”

You gasped dramatically. “Wow. Just like that? No hesitation?”

“Nope.” He took another bite.

You shook your head, grinning. “That’s crazy. ’Cause it sure looks like you’re enjoying that cinnamon roll.”

Logan grunted, not meeting your eyes. “S’fine.”

“You said that about the pie, and look where we are now.” You rested your chin in your hand, watching him. “Face it, Logan. You’ve got a sweet tooth.”

“Tch.” He picked up the plate and turned toward the door, clearly done with this conversation.

“Don’t be a stranger, sugar,” you called after him.

He didn’t look back, but you caught the way his shoulders tensed—like he was fighting the urge to respond. The bell chimed as he stepped outside.

You smirked, already looking forward to the next time he walked through that door.

---

Usually, you did just fine lugging the large bag of flour from the crate to the kitchen, but after spending all day on your feet testing new recipes you weren’t exactly at your best.

You faintly heard the bell ring above the front door, and you called out “we’re closed!” before tugging the bag of flour again.

“You’re closed, huh?” A familiar gruff voice cut through the quiet.

You groaned, still struggling with the damn bag of flour. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Heavy footsteps approached, and before you could protest, the bag was lifted right out of your grip. You turned to see Logan holding it effortlessly like it weighed nothing.

You huffed. “You know, some people ask before just stepping in and taking over.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were losin’ that fight.”

“I had it handled.”

“Sure you did.” He carried the bag through the doorway leading to the kitchen.

You followed, arms crossed. “What are you even doing here? You already got your sugar fix for the week.”

Logan set the bag down near the counter and dusted his hands off. “Needed somethin’ to do.”

You blinked. “So, out of all the places, you came here?”

He grunted, looking vaguely annoyed with himself. “Yeah, guess I did.”

You smirked, leaning against the counter. “Startin’ to think you like it here.”

Logan exhaled sharply. “Don’t push it.”

You tapped the counter lightly, still amused. “Well, since you’re here, you want something? Or are you just here to rescue me from my tragic battle with flour?”

Logan glanced around like he was debating whether he’d regret staying longer. Then his eyes landed on a tray of freshly baked cookies on the cooling rack.

You caught his look. “Ah. Now, let me use my special talent here—” You tapped your chin in mock thought. “You seem like a peanut butter guy.”

Logan scoffed. “Now you’re just makin’ stuff up.”

“Oh, am I?” You picked up a peanut butter cookie and held it out. “Go on. Prove me wrong.”

He stared at you, then at the cookie, then back at you. “This a new thing? You testin’ psychic powers on baked goods?”

“Just take the damn cookie, Logan.”

He rolled his eyes but took it, biting off a piece. His chewing slowed just slightly, the way it always did when he didn’t want to admit something was good.

You grinned. “Called it.”

Logan muttered something under his breath but didn’t stop eating.

You leaned on the counter, watching him. “So, what’s the excuse gonna be next time?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

“Mhm. You keep coming back, whether it’s for cake, pie, or playing the hero with fifty-pound bags of flour.”

Logan finished the cookie and dusted off his hands. “You assumin’ a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t assume.” You smirked. “I just have a talent for predicting things.”

He shook his head and turned toward the door. “Don’t wait up.”

You grinned. “Bye bye, sugar bear.”

---

The next time Logan showed up, he didn’t say anything at first. Just walked in, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, and stood at the counter like he was already regretting the decision.

You looked up from the register, eyebrows raising. “Back again already?”

“Don’t start.”

You smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

Logan gave you a look that said he didn’t believe that for a second. His eyes flicked to the display case, scanning over the usual selection. You leaned on the counter, waiting.

“So, what’ll it be?” You tapped your fingers against the counter. “Pie? Cinnamon roll? Maybe a cookie? I know a guy who’s a big fan of peanut butter.”

Logan exhaled, shaking his head. “Just coffee.”

You blinked. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”

You tilted your head slightly. “I just figured if you were gonna show up unprompted, you’d at least pretend you weren’t here just for the free samples.”

He gave you a flat look. “M’not here for free samples.”

“Uh-huh.” You turned, grabbing a mug. “Black?”

“Yeah.”

You poured the coffee and slid it across the counter. Logan took it without a word, lifting it to his lips.

You watched him take a sip, arms crossed. “So, what’s the excuse this time?”

He lowered the mug slightly. “What?”

“You always have an excuse for coming in. First it was Jean, then Scott, then some tragic flour-related emergency.” You smirked. “What is it today? Did someone put you on coffee duty?”

Logan didn’t answer right away, just took another sip. “No excuse.”

Your smirk faltered slightly. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged, resting your elbows on the counter. “Just didn’t take you for the type to stop by for no reason.”

He grunted. “Maybe I just wanted coffee.”

“Maybe.” You studied him for a moment. “Or maybe you just wanted to see me.”

Logan huffed. “You’re pushin’ it.”

You grinned. “That wasn’t a no.”

He shook his head, setting the coffee down. “This place always this damn chatty?”

“Only when you’re here.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, but he didn’t argue. You took that as a win.

“Oh, I know somethin’ you can do for me.” You quickly ran into the backroom and grabbed a cooling scone—raspberry lime.

Logan eyed it with mild suspicion as you set it down in front of him. “What’s this?”

“A scone.”

He gave you a flat look. “I can see that.”

You smirked. “Then why’d you ask?”

Logan exhaled sharply, picking it up like it might bite him. “And I’m supposed to do what, exactly?”

“You’re supposed to eat it,” you said, leaning on the counter. “It’s a new recipe. Gotta make sure it’s good before I start selling them.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “And you don’t got anyone else to taste-test this?”

“Not anyone who’ll give me an honest answer.” You tapped the counter lightly. “Customers are too polite, and the old ladies who come in every Sunday think everything I make is ‘just delightful.’ I need actual feedback.”

Logan looked at the scone like it was some kind of trap. “…It got any weird crap in it?”

“Weird crap?” You blinked. “It’s raspberry and lime. How is that weird?”

He grunted, still skeptical, but took a bite. His chewing slowed slightly, which you’d come to recognize as the telltale sign that he actually liked something but wasn’t about to admit it outright.

You grinned. “Well?”

Logan swallowed, then shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Wow. High praise.”

He took another bite, shaking his head. “You want feedback or not?”

“Go on, then. Let’s hear it.”

He chewed thoughtfully, eyes flicking toward the ceiling like he was actually considering his words. “Not too sweet. Tart enough to keep it from bein’ boring. Texture’s good.” He paused, taking another bite. “Could use a little more lime.”

You tilted your head. “More lime?”

“Yeah.” He gestured vaguely with the scone. “You got the raspberry down, but the lime’s kinda fightin’ to be noticed.”

You pursed your lips, considering it. “Huh. Okay, I can work with that.”

Logan took another bite, looking vaguely annoyed with himself. “Didn’t expect you to actually listen.”

“I asked for feedback. What kind of baker would I be if I ignored it?” You smirked. “Besides, I already knew it was good—I just wanted to see if you’d admit it.”

He scoffed, setting the half-eaten scone down. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And yet, here you are. Again.”

Logan grunted, picking up his coffee. “Don’t make a big deal outta it.”

You grinned, tapping the counter. “No promises, sugar.”

---

The bell above the bakery door chimed, and you barely glanced up from where you were wiping down the counter. “We’re closed,” you called automatically.

“You keep sayin’ that, and yet, here I am,” came a familiar gruff voice.

You looked up, smirking as Logan stood at the counter, hands shoved into his jacket pockets like he was already regretting coming in. “Back again already? Thought you were done giving me a hard time.”

He grunted, eyes flicking toward the display case. “Just get me a coffee.”

You arched an eyebrow but didn’t question it, grabbing a mug and pouring it fresh. As you slid it across the counter, you tapped your fingers against the wood. “You know, most people would just admit they like a place instead of making up excuses to show up.”

Logan wrapped his hands around the mug, not looking at you. “Ain’t an excuse. Just needed coffee.”

“Sure.” You leaned on the counter, watching him. “So, what was it this time? Jean send you? Scott? Or did another bag of flour need rescuing?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “No reason.”

That gave you pause. You tilted your head slightly. “Huh.”

Logan frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” You smirked, clearly amused. “Just didn’t take you for the type to stop by for no reason.”

He gave you a flat look. “You got somethin’ against repeat customers?”

“Oh, no. I love my regulars.” You grinned. “Especially the grumpy ones.”

Logan shook his head, lifting the mug to his lips. He didn’t argue, which only made you more smug.

---

The next time Logan came in, it wasn’t for coffee.

The place was quiet—late enough in the evening that most customers were long gone. You were behind the counter, finishing up some inventory, when the bell chimed.

You looked up, brows lifting. “You know, I could just give you a key at this point.”

Logan ignored that, stepping up to the counter. “What’s good today?”

You gave him an exaggerated gasp. “You’re finally asking for a recommendation? I’m honored.”

He sighed. “Just tell me what’s good.”

You smirked, grabbing a plate and sliding a freshly baked hand pie onto it. “Figured I’d experiment today—blackberry and bourbon.”

Logan picked up the hand pie, giving it a brief once-over before taking a bite. He chewed, swallowed, then gave a short nod. “Not bad.”

You put a hand over your heart. “Wow. Practically a glowing review.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but something about the interaction had softened. He stayed leaning against the counter, glancing at the cooling trays behind you. “So, you always wanted to do this?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Do what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely. “The whole bakery thing.”

You shrugged. “Pretty much. Always liked baking, figured I might as well get paid for it.”

Logan hummed in acknowledgment, taking another bite. He didn’t say anything for a while, but he didn’t leave either.

After a few beats of silence, you decided to return the question. “What about you?”

He glanced up. “What about me?”

You leaned on the counter. “You always wanted to be a broody loner who shows up at small businesses unannounced?”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

You grinned. “Yeah, but I grow on people.”

“We’ll see about that.”

But he didn’t leave.

---

You had a habit of observing people. It came with the job—regulars had patterns, little quirks that gave away more than they realized.

Logan was no different.

The third or fourth time he came in, you started noticing them. The way his eyes scanned the room the second he stepped inside, like he was cataloging everything. How he never sat with his back to the door. How his shoulders only slightly relaxed after a few minutes, like he was still debating if he should be here at all.

“You’re always on guard.”

Logan, who had just taken a sip of coffee, lowered the mug slightly. “What?”

“You’re always watching everything,” you said, casually wiping down the counter. “Like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.”

Logan’s expression flickered—just for a second. “Force of habit.”

You nodded. “Figured.”

That was it. No prodding, no pushing. Just an acknowledgment.

Logan’s fingers tapped against the side of his mug. “That a problem?”

“Nope.” You smirked. “Just an observation.”

Logan held your gaze for a second longer, then shook his head. “You notice too much.”

“Perks of the job.” You leaned forward slightly. “You know what else I noticed?”

He sighed. “What now?”

“You linger.”

Logan frowned. “The hell does that mean?”

“You stick around longer each time.” You grinned. “Almost like you enjoy being here.”

Logan grunted, grabbing his coffee. “You’re annoyin’.”

“And yet, here you are.”

He didn’t argue.

---

The bell above the bakery door chimed, right on schedule. You smirked to yourself as you wiped your hands on your apron. Logan had been showing up like clockwork now—never admitting it, of course, but his routine spoke for itself.

When you turned around, you were already holding out a plate.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “What’s this?”

You set it on the counter with a flourish. “Leftover peanut butter cookies. Tragic, really. If only someone around here liked them.”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You plannin’ on feedin’ me every time I come in?”

“Would you complain if I was?” You leaned on the counter, raising an eyebrow.

He grumbled something under his breath but grabbed a cookie anyway, biting into it like he was proving a point.

You smirked. “Thought so.”

Logan chewed, swallowed, then gestured toward the plate. “These actually extra?”

You tilted your head. “Does it matter?”

His jaw flexed slightly, like he didn’t know how to respond. Instead of answering, he just grabbed another cookie.

You grinned.

---

It had been a long day. A really long day.

One of the ovens had decided to throw a tantrum, a supplier had screwed up an order, and to top it off, you still had to prep for a catering job in the morning.

You didn’t even look up when the bell chimed. “We’re closed,” you called tiredly, shoving a crate of flour toward the back.

“Yeah, yeah.”

You blinked, glancing up to see Logan standing near the counter, arms crossed.

You huffed. “Starting to think you don’t understand what closed means.”

Logan ignored that, glancing around at the half-prepped trays, the mess of ingredients still covering the counter. “You runnin’ this place by yourself?”

“Yep.” You exhaled, pushing hair out of your face. “Well, mostly. Sometimes I hire help for big orders.”

Logan grunted, then—without a word—walked past the counter, grabbed the flour bag you had been struggling with, and lifted it like it weighed nothing.

You blinked. “Uh—what are you—”

“Where’s it goin’?”

You stared at him. “You do realize you don’t work here, right?”

Logan gave you a flat look. “You askin’ me to leave?”

You hesitated, then sighed. “Corner shelf, second row.”

He carried it over like it was nothing, then turned back expectantly.

You crossed your arms. “What, you lookin’ for a job now?”

Logan snorted. “You couldn’t afford me.”

“Oh, please.” You smirked. “I’d pay you in coffee and pie. You’d be set for life.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue. Instead, he glanced around the kitchen again. “What else?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Are you helping?”

“Tch.” He grabbed another crate before you could protest. “You’re losin’ this fight, just let it happen.”

You watched him work for a moment, a little stunned. You weren’t used to people sticking around just to help. It wasn’t a grand gesture, wasn’t something he was making a big deal out of—it was just Logan, stepping in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You turned back to your work, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But you’re not getting paid.”

Logan grunted. “Figures.”

---

It was late—too late. You should’ve locked up an hour ago, but you were dragging your feet, finishing up inventory while Logan sat at one of the tables with his usual coffee.

You glanced over at him. He had been coming around more, sticking around longer. He never said why, and you never asked. It was just… the way things had settled.

“You always this restless?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

Logan glanced up. “What?”

“You always show up late.” You leaned against the counter. “Ever sleep?”

He scoffed. “Not much.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Because you can’t, or because you don’t want to?”

Something flickered in his expression. He looked down at his coffee, fingers tapping against the side of the mug. “Both.”

You studied him for a moment. “Bad dreams?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly—so quiet you almost missed it—he muttered, “Somethin’ like that.”

You didn’t push. You could’ve asked more, pried for details, but that wasn’t how this worked. Instead, you just nodded.

“I get it,” you said simply.

Logan looked at you, something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… understanding.

Logan took another sip of his coffee, then exhaled. “You should lock up.”

You smirked. “You gonna tell me what to do now?”

He stood, grabbing his jacket. “Don’t need to. You’re already dead on your feet.”

You huffed. “You know, for a guy who claims he doesn’t care, you sure do act like you do.”

Logan pulled his jacket on, not looking at you. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”

You watched as he headed for the door, shaking your head with a small smile.

“Night, sugar bear,” you called after him.

He didn’t look back, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed—like he was fighting the urge to respond.

The bell chimed as the door swung shut.

---

By now, Logan had stopped making excuses for why he kept coming back. He still didn’t admit anything, but you noticed the pattern—how he always came in around closing time, how he lingered longer each visit.

Tonight was no different.

The bell chimed, and you barely looked up from wiping down the espresso machine. “Y’know, if you’re gonna keep doing this, I really should just give you a key.”

Logan grunted, stepping inside. “Don’t need one.”

You smirked. “Because you’d just break in?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up before leaning on the counter. “So, what’ll it be? Coffee? Something sweet? Or are you just here to loiter?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. He walked over to his usual seat—the one near the window, back to the wall—and sat down with a sigh.

“No coffee,” he muttered.

That was new.

You eyed him. “Rough night?”

He exhaled sharply but didn’t answer. That was answer enough.

Without another word, you grabbed a mug, poured something fresh, and set it on the table in front of him.

“I thought I said no coffee.”

You sat across from him, propping your chin on your hand. “It’s tea.”

Logan frowned at it. “The hell do I look like, some kinda tea-drinkin’—”

“—Just drink it, Logan.”

He huffed but didn’t argue. Took a sip. Grunted.

You smirked. “Good, right?”

“...It’s fine.”

You leaned back, watching him. “You don’t have to talk, you know.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Just saying. If you wanna sit here in broody silence for an hour, I won’t stop you.”

He stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable passing behind his expression. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea.

Neither of you said anything else for a while.

But he stayed.

---

You had dealt with rude customers before. It came with the job—some people were just assholes. But most of the time, they were harmless.

Most of the time.

Tonight, some guy had been giving you a hard time—complaining about his order, getting a little too close, sneering in that way that immediately put you on edge.

“You got a problem with your ears, sweetheart? I said extra caramel—”

“I heard you,” you said, forcing yourself to stay calm. “But that’s not what you ordered.”

The guy scoffed, leaning over the counter. “So now you’re callin’ me a liar?”

Before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“She ain’t callin’ you anythin’.”

Logan was right there—sudden and solid, standing just slightly in front of you.

The guy turned, sizing Logan up. “And who the hell are you supposed to be?”

Logan didn’t answer. Just held his gaze, silent, still.

You had seen Logan fight before—you knew what he was capable of—but sometimes, it didn’t take claws or violence. Sometimes, it was just him, standing there, making someone realize they’d made a mistake.

The guy swallowed.

“Forget it,” he muttered, grabbing his coffee and leaving without another word.

The door shut behind him, and for a moment, the bakery was silent.

You exhaled. “Well. That was fun.”

Logan turned, looking you over like he was checking for something. “You alright?”

You smirked. “Aww, you care.”

Logan grunted. “Don’t start.”

You crossed your arms. “What, no dramatic one-liner? No ‘stay away from her’ speech?”

“Didn’t need one.”

You shook your head, still smirking. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan didn’t answer. Just grumbled under his breath and went back to his seat, like nothing had happened.

But you noticed the way he didn’t touch his drink for a while—like he was still too on edge to relax.

---

“You’re actually serious about this.”

Logan stood at the entrance of the farmers’ market, arms crossed, looking very unamused by the whole thing.

You grinned. “Yep.”

“You dragged me here.”

“Oh, please. No one drags you anywhere. You came willingly.”

He grunted but didn’t argue.

You had invited him on a whim, half-expecting him to say no. But to your surprise, he had shown up—grumbling the whole way, sure, but still.

The market was lively—small tents, fresh produce, the smell of roasted coffee and warm pastries in the air. It was a nice change from the usual bakery setting.

Logan, however, looked wildly out of place.

“You look miserable,” you teased, nudging him.

“’Cause I am miserable.”

“You sure? ’Cause I saw you eyeing those smoked meats at the last booth.”

Logan huffed. “That don’t mean I wanna be here.”

You smirked. “Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

Still, he stuck close to you as you weaved through the booths. He didn’t complain when you stopped to look at pastries, didn’t roll his eyes too hard when you bought something ridiculous just because it “looked cute.”

At one point, you handed him a fresh apple cider donut.

Logan frowned. “What’s this for?”

“Because you look like you wanna kill someone, and I need you to chill.”

He gave you a look but took a bite anyway.

You grinned. “See? Was that so hard?”

Logan just grumbled around his donut.

You took that as a win.

---

Logan, for the first time in a while, came to your bakery for an order. It was for the Valentine’s Day party at the mansion and Jean and Ororo put him on pickup duty.

It was close to 3 pm when he arrived and the sign on the door was already turned to CLOSED.

He opened the door and walked in, the bell ringing above.

You were behind the counter, carefully arranging a tray of macarons into a pastry box. You glanced up at the sound, then smirked when you saw who it was.

“Ah, my favorite grump. Here for the party order?”

Logan grunted, stepping closer. “Jean and Ro made me do it.”

“Of course they did.” You shut the box and slid it across the counter. “Bunch of heart-shaped macarons, just as requested—raspberry, chocolate, vanilla bean, and peanut butter.”

Logan eyed the box, then flicked his gaze back to you. You looked… different. Dressed up. Not overly fancy, but enough to make him pause. His brows pulled together slightly.

“You got plans or somethin’?”

You tilted your head. “What?”

He gestured vaguely. “You’re dressed up.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Why, you jealous?”

Logan scoffed. “Ain’t jealous. Just askin’.”

You hummed, clearly entertained. “No date, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Logan crossed his arms. “Didn’t say nothin’ about a date.”

You grinned. “Mhm. Well, in case you were wondering, Jean invited me to the party.”

His expression flickered—something unreadable for half a second—before he exhaled sharply. “That right?”

“Yep.” You grabbed another small box from behind the counter and handed it to him. “These are yours, by the way.”

Logan frowned slightly, opening the box. Inside were four macarons, but unlike the ones in the party order, these were regular round ones.

“Didn’t think you’d want heart-shaped ones,” you said, watching his reaction.

He stared at them for a moment. “These the same flavors?”

“Yep. One of each.” You leaned on the counter, smirking. “Figured you’d appreciate the peanut butter one the most.”

Logan huffed. “You really don’t let up, huh?”

“Nope.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue. Just shut the box and grabbed the party order. “C’mon. I’ll give you a ride.”

You blinked. “What?”

Logan gestured toward the door. “Party’s at the mansion, ain’t it? You’re goin’, I’m goin’. Might as well save you the trip.”

You smirked, grabbing your coat. “And how exactly are these macarons supposed to survive on a motorcycle?”

Logan gave you a flat look. “I got it handled.”

You chuckled, stepping around the counter. “Alright, sugar bear. Let’s see what you got.”

He grumbled something under his breath but held the door open for you anyway.

You stepped outside, pulling your coat tighter as the cool air hit. Logan followed, already heading toward his bike.

You stopped short, staring at it. “Okay, I gotta ask—where exactly are these macarons supposed to go? You got some hidden pastry compartment I don’t know about?”

Logan shot you a look. “I said I got it handled.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s not an answer.”

He exhaled sharply, then crouched slightly, reaching for the saddlebag attached to the side of his bike. With practiced ease, he unlatched it, revealing a snug, padded compartment inside.

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s… oddly convenient.”

Logan shrugged. “Picked it up a while back. Good for keepin’ shit from gettin’ smashed.”

You smirked. “So, what you’re saying is, this is a dessert-safe motorcycle?”

He grunted, carefully placing the boxes inside. “Sure.”

You shook your head, amused. “You are full of surprises, sugar bear.”

Logan ignored that, straightening up before turning to you. “You ever been on a bike before?”

You hesitated. “…Define ‘been on a bike.’”

His expression flattened. “That a no?”

“Not a no. More like a… not exactly.”

Logan exhaled through his nose. “Great.” He swung a leg over and sat, steadying the bike before nodding toward you. “C’mon.”

You gave him a look. “You’re just assuming I’m gonna get on?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You got another ride?”

You huffed, stepping forward. “Fine, but if we crash, I’m haunting you.”

Logan scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. Foot on the peg, swing your leg over, and don’t make a damn production out of it.”

You did as he said, slightly awkward but managing without embarrassing yourself. Once seated, you hesitated, hands hovering near his back.

“…Where am I supposed to hold?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Then, without looking back, he reached for your wrists and pulled your arms around his waist. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard, but didn’t argue. His body was solid under your hands, radiating warmth even through his jacket.

“This gonna be a problem?” he asked, clearly amused.

You huffed. “Not unless you do something stupid.”

Logan smirked, kicking the bike to life. “Hang on, doll.”

You rolled your eyes but tightened your grip around his waist. The engine rumbled beneath you, the vibration humming through your chest as Logan eased the bike forward. The cool night air bit at your skin, but the warmth of him under your hands made up for it.

As he pulled onto the road, you couldn’t help but squeeze your arms a little tighter. Not out of fear—just instinct. Logan didn’t say anything about it, but you could feel the shift in his posture, the slightest adjustment like he was making sure you were steady.

The ride was smooth, surprisingly so. Logan handled the bike with an ease that made you wonder just how many times he’d done this before. The streets of Westchester blurred past, streetlights casting a golden glow over the pavement.

After a few minutes, you leaned forward slightly. “So, be honest. How often do you use the whole ‘wanna ride?’ line to impress women?”

Logan snorted. “You think I need a line?”

You scoffed. “Wow. That cocky, huh?”

He smirked, though you couldn’t see it. “Ain’t about bein’ cocky, darlin’. Just statin’ facts.”

You shook your head, amused. “Uh-huh. Well, just so you know, I’m only impressed if we get there in one piece.”

Logan huffed. “You doubtin’ my drivin’?”

“I mean, I don’t want to, but I’ve also seen how you drive a car, and—”

“That was one time,” he grumbled.

“And yet, Scott still won’t let you near the X-Jet.”

“One crash, and suddenly nobody trusts ya.”

You laughed, resting your chin lightly against his back. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan didn’t respond, but you felt his chest rise and fall with a short, quiet chuckle.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent, save for the occasional gust of wind and the steady roar of the engine. It wasn’t bad, you realized. The night air, the open road, the way Logan rode like he belonged there—it was… nice.

After a while, the looming gates of the Xavier Institute came into view. Logan slowed the bike, coasting up the long driveway before finally coming to a stop near the entrance.

As the engine cut off, you let out a breath and loosened your grip. Logan tilted his head slightly. “Not bad for your first time?”

You huffed. “I mean, I survived, so I’d call it a win.”

He smirked. “Told ya I had it handled.”

You slid off the bike, stretching your legs. “Alright, sugar bear. Let’s get these macarons inside before Jean hunts us down.”

Logan grunted but grabbed the boxes from the saddlebag, handing you yours before leading the way inside. The moment you stepped through the doors, the distant sound of music and chatter spilled into the hallway.

You smirked. “Sounds like the party’s in full swing.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Great.”

You nudged him playfully. “Oh, come on. It won’t kill you to be social for one night.”

He gave you a look. “Wanna bet?”

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut in.

“There you guys are!”

Jean appeared from around the corner, arms crossed but a knowing smirk on her lips. “Was starting to think you got lost.”

Logan grunted, holding up the pastry box. “Got your damn macarons, didn’t we?”

Jean took them, amused. “And you made it in one piece. I’ll call that a success.” She glanced at you, smirk widening. “Enjoy the ride?”

You crossed your arms, smirking right back. “I mean, I was mildly impressed. Didn’t even have to cling to him for dear life.”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I hate both of ya.”

Jean just laughed. “Come on, you two. Let’s get to the party.”

You followed her down the hall, Logan trailing behind you like he was already regretting every life decision that led him to this moment. The music grew louder as you got closer, and when Jean pushed open the doors to the common room, the full chaos of the Valentine’s party hit you.

Streamers, heart-shaped balloons, and way too much red and pink covered every inch of the space. A long table near the wall was packed with snacks, desserts—including your macarons—and an absolutely massive punch bowl that looked suspiciously spiked.

“Oh, this is festive,” you mused, glancing around.

“Festive’s one word for it,” Logan muttered.

Jean handed off the box of macarons to Ororo, who grinned when she saw you. “Glad you made it!”

“Of course,” you said, smirking. “Wouldn’t miss an excuse to see Logan suffer through social interaction.”

Ororo chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck, because he can’t sneak out this time. Scott already said if he disappears before midnight, he’s getting put on dish duty for the next month.”

You turned to Logan. “I like this rule.”

Logan just grunted. “’S bullshit.”

Jean smirked. “Then you better stick around.”

Ororo pulled you away toward the dessert table before Logan could complain more. “Come on, you have to try some of the punch before Bobby finishes it off.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just straight-up vodka at this point,” you said, eyeing the bowl.

“Exactly.”

You laughed but let her pour you a cup. The party was already in full swing—students dancing, music blasting, people laughing over whatever nonsense was happening near the pool table. It was easy, fun, not a bad way to spend a night.

Logan, however, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. He had posted up near the bar, arms crossed, sipping a beer while occasionally glaring at anyone who got too close.

You made your way over, drink in hand. “Having fun?”

He gave you a flat look.

You grinned. “That bad, huh?”

He sighed. “Too loud.”

“Aw, poor thing,” you teased, nudging him. “Bet you’d rather be back at the bakery eating peanut butter cookies in broody silence.”

Logan took a sip of his beer. “Damn right.”

You smirked, leaning against the bar. “Well, if you survive the night, maybe I’ll consider rewarding you with some.”

His eyes flicked toward you, something unreadable in his expression. “That so?”

“Maybe.” You took a sip of your drink. “Depends on how grumpy you get.”

Logan scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he watched you over the rim of his bottle, like he was figuring something out.

Before either of you could say anything else, Rogue appeared, grinning. “Oh, good, you’re both here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s never a good sign.”

“I need you two for somethin’.”

Logan immediately shook his head. “No.”

Rogue rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“Don’t need to.”

She ignored him and turned to you. “We’re playin’ Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “You’re what?”

Rogue smirked. “C’mon, it’s tradition. Just pick a name outta the hat.”

Logan was already turning to leave. “Hell no.”

You grabbed his arm before he could make an escape. “Oh, come on, sugar. Don’t be a coward.”

He shot you a look. “I ain’t playin’ some dumbass game.”

Rogue crossed her arms. “Then you gotta do dish duty for a month.”

Logan clenched his jaw.

You grinned. “I like this rule.”

Logan exhaled sharply, then snatched a name from the hat. He glanced at it, scowled, then crumpled the paper in his fist. “This is stupid.”

Rogue smirked, looking at you. “Your turn.”

You sighed, reaching into the hat. When you unfolded the paper, your eyes widened slightly.

Logan.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. His expression was unreadable, but you caught the slight twitch of his jaw.

Rogue clapped her hands together. “Welp, you know the rules. Closet’s that way.”

You turned to Logan, smirking. “Guess we’re doin’ this.”

He huffed. “Guess so.”

Rogue practically shoved you both toward the closet, grinning. “Have fun, lovebirds.”

The door shut behind you with a click.

You turned to Logan, arms crossed. “So. This is happening.”

He exhaled sharply. “Tch.”

The space wasn’t exactly roomy. You were standing close, close enough to catch the scent of cigar smoke and something warm, familiar.

You smirked. “You look like you’d rather fight Sabretooth again than be in here right now.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Ain’t far off.”

You chuckled, then leaned back slightly. “Relax, sugar. It’s just a game.”

He studied you for a moment, then shook his head. “You really don’t let up, do ya?”

“Nope.”

Silence stretched between you. There was something… different about being this close, no bar or counter between you, nothing but the dim glow of light filtering under the door.

Your gaze flicked to his lips, just for a second, before you looked back up at his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but there was something else there—something you couldn’t quite place.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”

Logan exhaled slowly, then smirked. “You really wanna know?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah.”

He leaned in slightly, just enough to make your breath catch.

“…Thinkin’ this is a real stupid game,” he muttered.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Terrible answer.”

Logan grunted, crossing his arms. “Yeah, well. Ain’t much of a game to begin with.”

You smirked, leaning back against the closet wall. “You know, for someone who acts like he doesn’t give a damn about party games, you sure are committed to standing here in silence.”

Logan shot you a look. “Ain’t like I got a choice.”

“You always got a choice, sugar,” you mused, tilting your head. “Could’ve taken dish duty.”

“Rather be in here than deal with Scott’s bitchin’.”

You chuckled. “That’s fair.”

Silence stretched between you again. The closet wasn’t big, barely enough space for both of you without standing close. Logan stayed where he was, arms crossed, shoulders tense.

You tapped your fingers against the wall, glancing at him. “You ever actually played this before?”

He exhaled sharply. “What, you think I spent my younger years crammed in closets with gigglin’ teenagers?”

You grinned. “I dunno, Logan. You’ve been around a while. Gotta imagine at least one girl managed to talk you into it.”

He huffed. “Ain’t my thing.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You shifted, crossing one leg over the other. “You don’t really seem like the party type. More of a ‘drink alone in a dive bar and pretend you don’t wanna talk to anyone’ kinda guy.”

Logan shot you a dry look. “You got me all figured out, huh?”

You tapped your temple. “I’m observant.”

He didn’t answer, but you caught the slight twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

You let the silence linger for a beat before speaking again. “You know, seven minutes is a long time. You might as well entertain me.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Entertain you?”

“Yeah. Tell me something.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t got nothin’ to say.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” you mused. “You just don’t like talking.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You do enough of that for both of us.”

You pressed a hand to your chest. “You wound me, sugar bear.”

He exhaled sharply. “Don’t call me that.”

“You never complain when I say it outside of a closet.”

“’Cause outside of a closet, I can walk away.”

You smirked. “You sure about that? ’Cause last time I checked, you keep coming back.”

Logan grunted, looking away. “This is the longest seven minutes of my goddamn life.”

“Oh, come on. You’re having fun.”

“The hell I am.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. If you’re not gonna talk, I’ll just have to fill the silence myself.”

Logan sighed. “Fantastic.”

You ignored his sarcasm and leaned your head back against the wall. “Alright, let’s see… Did I ever tell you about the time a guy tried to rob me with a butter knife?”

That actually got Logan’s attention. His brows pulled together slightly. “The hell?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Came in one night, all twitchy, pulls a damn butter knife from his sleeve like it was supposed to be intimidating. Told me to empty the register.”

Logan tilted his head. “What’d you do?”

You smirked. “Took the knife out of his hand and gave him a scone.”

Logan stared at you, then shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I prefer resourceful,” you said, grinning. “Besides, guy was clearly desperate. Didn’t have the heart to kick his ass.”

Logan grunted. “Lucky for him.”

“Lucky for me, too. He actually came back a week later with a real apology. Bought a dozen muffins.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Only you.”

You shrugged, clearly pleased with yourself. “Hey, you’re the one who said I talk too much. This is what you get. I could also talk about the time my cousin carpooled with—”

Logan cut you off mid-sentence. Not with a glare, not with a grumble—no, this time, he shut you up the only way that was guaranteed to work.

By kissing you.

It was sudden, barely enough time to react before he stepped forward, backing you up until your shoulders hit the wall. His hand came up, palm pressing flat beside your head, caging you in without a single word.

Your breath caught, brain short-circuiting for half a second before instinct kicked in. You kissed him back, fingers curling slightly at your sides like you were debating grabbing onto him.

Logan didn’t rush it—didn’t press too hard, didn’t let it turn into something it wasn’t meant to be. But it was firm, deliberate, enough to make your knees feel just a little weak.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, he pulled back.

The closet felt even smaller than before.

For a few long, charged moments, neither of you said anything. You were still pressed against the wall, Logan still close, his hand still braced by your head. His eyes flicked over your face, scanning for something, though you weren’t sure what.

Your heart was pounding, but you weren’t about to be the one to break first.

So, instead, you smirked, tilting your head slightly. “So… does this mean you’re my valentine now?”

Logan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You never let up, do ya?”

“Nope.” Your grin widened. “Not even after being dramatically kissed in a broom closet.”

Logan huffed, but he didn’t move away. He stayed right there, close enough that you could still feel his warmth, still smell the faint trace of whiskey and cigar smoke clinging to his jacket.

You tapped a finger against his chest. “I mean, you did just make a pretty big statement. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually like me.”

Logan grunted. “Don’t push it.”

You grinned. “That wasn’t a no.” You reached up, tapping his bottom lip with your finger, “c’mon sugar bear. Would I really be that bad of a valentine?”

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes flicking between yours. "You’re real pushy, you know that?"

You smirked. "And yet, here you are. In a closet. With me." Your finger was still resting against his lip, and you tapped it lightly, just to mess with him. "So, sugar bear, what’s the verdict?"

Logan caught your wrist before you could do it again, his grip firm but not rough. "That name’s gonna be the death of me."

"You’ll survive." You grinned. "So? Valentine or not?"

Logan didn’t answer right away. He still hadn’t let go of your wrist, his thumb brushing absently against your skin like he hadn’t noticed he was doing it. His gaze flickered down to your lips, then back up, his jaw tightening slightly like he was debating something.

Then, without a word, he let go, stepping back just enough to put space between you.

You arched an eyebrow. "That’s it?"

Logan crossed his arms. "What else you want, a damn serenade?"

"Well, now that you mention it—"

"Not happenin’."

You chuckled, tilting your head. "Alright, fine. No singing. But I’ll take that kiss as a yes."

Logan scoffed. "You assume too much."

"Mm. Do I?" You tapped your chin in mock thought. "You kissed me. Didn’t push me away. Didn’t tell me to shut up. And now you’re looking at me like you’re still considerin’ round two."

Logan’s jaw ticked. "You’re real smug."

"You like it," you shot back easily.

He didn’t confirm or deny it. Just exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alright," you said, watching him. "Since you clearly can’t admit it, I’ll do it for you. Logan Howlett, the grumpiest man in Westchester, is officially my Valentine."

Logan rolled his eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, throwing his own words back at him.

Logan shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely, but you caught it. "You done yet?"

"Not even close." You smirked, reaching for the doorknob. "But I’ll give you a break… for now."

Before you could turn it, Logan caught your wrist again, stopping you.

You raised an eyebrow. "Changed your mind?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze for a second longer than necessary before he muttered, low and gruff, "you talk too much."

Then he kissed you again.

This time, there was no hesitation. No half-measures. Just Logan pressing you back against the closet wall, one hand curling around your waist, the other braced beside your head. The kiss was slower this time, deliberate, like he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t talk your way out of it.

Not that you were planning to.

You grinned against his lips, fisting the front of his jacket and pulling him closer. "See?" you murmured. "Told you you liked me."

Logan grunted but didn’t stop kissing you. Didn’t pull away.

Didn’t even argue.

i hope this was valentine-y enough! <3

#klloveuary2025 #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic

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reds-writings · 16 days ago

Text

the in between

(pairing: andrew 'pope' cody x fem!reader)

summary: pope cody doesn't allow himself much, but after a harrowing job, all he wants is the gentleness that is you...

warnings: hurt/comfort, nakedness, slight horniness but that ain't the point of this, 18+ just in case, smurf mention, canon-general violence/injury, pope's aura, etc

word count: 1.6k

a/n: been watching animal kingdom with my sister and shawn hatosy has bewitched me mind, body, and soul. let me know how you enjoy me trying to write for this freak ass mama's boy who just needs some tenderness and normalcy in his life

It didn’t take much to surprise you these days, but the last thing you expected after an impromptu girls’ night out was to find a slew of medical supplies strewn around your en-suite bathroom.

Amid the mess, stood one Andrew Cody, hardly conscious behind the steam-fogged glass of your walk-in shower. Your heart jolted as your gaze settled on an unsettling amount of blood-soaked gauze left haphazardly on the vanity’s counter.

You remember somewhere back in the muddled mess of your sobering mind something about a job that was supposed to go down tonight. He didn’t make it a habit to let you in on much when it came to his family’s work, but you didn’t think it was supposed to be that much of a complicated take this time around, despite his current stature clearly depicting otherwise.

There must have been some sort of colossal fuck up along the way if he came back like this. To get away and be with you, of all people, instead of with his brothers or even by himself.

If he’d noticed you by now, he made no move to acknowledge your presence.

With a small sigh, you bend over and grab the small waste basket nestled next to your bathroom cabinet in order to gather the soiled supplies to make room for any patching up that’s sure to take place post-shower.

When the space is made to your satisfaction, you waste no time wriggling out of your itchily glittered cocktail dress, thanks to Shauna’s insistence on wearing, along with the rest of your dainty undergarments, before grabbing some towels to set aside.

Making it into the shower cubicle, the mottling of bruises and severe scraping that decorated the expanse of his back like a morbid modern art display has you at a momentary standstill. The delicate freckling of his shoulders could hardly be made out, and it was a challenge to swallow the growing lump in your throat at the sight.

Your eyes drifted to one of his hands resting on the seaglass mosaic that made up your accent wall. His knuckles were marred with the discoloration of an altercation, serving as a stark contrast to the soft colors of condensating tiles.

Pope always seemed to appear slightly out of place whenever he turned up here. The complete opposite of your graceful disposition. The lived-in warmth of your home.

A makeshift weapon. A guard dog. A Criminal.

Despite all the titles he shouldered, he looked so small. As if he could break down every particle, every atom of himself, and disappear down the drain that rested at his feet.

Just wash away. Dissolve. Be nothing.

A subtle shudder rippled along his shoulders as he took a breath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your voice was small, afraid to shatter the quiet that lay heavy in this little corner of the world.

He shook his head no.

Things had certainly gone wrong in some way, shape, or form tonight, and as usual, it looked like he took the brunt of it all.

It was times like these when you really, really hated Smurf.

You didn’t need to voice that, though. You’d end up standing here all night until your face ran blue. He knew how you felt.

For he felt the same.

Except he’d never been confident enough to have the strength to break away. To be free.

At this point, he’s not even sure if he deserves it. A life without his wretched mother in it. One without pain being inflicted upon himself or others. It’s all he’s ever known.

It was as if his inescapable tie to that woman seemed to serve as a form of some tragic, indefinite penance.

With you, though, there’s an uncharacteristic selfishness that takes over whenever it comes to stealing a slice of unguarded peace at your mercy.

At first, he made it his mission to just stay away. Be alone. Let the weight of his existence, his sins, build up and let him drown without anyone there to bear witness.

But you were so good. So lovely. So real.

You’ve never been scared of him. Always just scared for him.

You weren’t naive about his past or present, but he kept his family life and whatever this was as separate as humanly possible. He was sure the poison of the Cody's corrupted Midas’ touch would eventually reach you some way, somehow. That it would take you without any warning, just like everything else, when it came to anything he allowed himself to want. All he could do was continue to slip away and revel in the warmth you offered in between the small gaps of time and space the universe felt generous enough to provide.

Sometimes knowing this type of fragile affection, this love, made him sick to his very core.

He still struggled with accepting that you didn’t hang around to use him. That every gesture, every touch, wasn’t some twisted way to gain control.

You existed in his orbit not for leverage, but because you cared. You had no ill will in picking up his many broken pieces. You did it because it felt right. You were selfless by nature.

“Where did you go?” The meek rasp of Pope’s voice finally filled the stretch of silence between you two.

“Shauna dumped her asshole boyfriend this morning, so Cassie demanded we go out and celebrate her new chapter of freedom.” You inched forward to loosely wrap your arms around his torso, taking extra care in trying not to disturb the darkening marks settling on his ribs.

The hand resting on the shower wall came down to gently drape over yours, squeezing lightly to ground himself in the fact that it was you resting your soft, damp skin against his, fitting like a puzzle piece against the curve of his worn spine. His chest was starting to redden from the heat of the water so he took it upon himself to switch places with you to give himself a break, making sure to twist the knob as he did so your skin wouldn’t scald under the spray.

Facing him, you were now able to get a good look at his face. There was a small split in his cheekbone with a blooming stain accompanying it, but nothing else nearly as bad as the rest of his frame.

“Tough night?” You gently cupped his jaw, running a thumb over the pale pink of his bottom lip as reddened hazel took you in. Being out for hours crammed in hot spaces didn't make it surprising to see that some of your makeup was starting to run and flake a bit, but there was nothing else more beautiful.

You, in all your glory, trusting him to take up space at your most vulnerable.

His heart ached, trying to jump out of his battered ribcage at the look in your eyes. The intensity of your love, tainted by worry, as you tried and failed to tamp it down because you knew how much he disliked being fussed over.

“Just needed a moment away.” His hand lifted to encompass the back of your head to bring you forward, kissing your forehead so sweetly you felt a sting of tears press behind your eyes. The path of his delicate affections made way down the slope of your nose, the corner of your eye, then finally, like a stalled breath let free, the awaiting line of your lips.

It was a kiss driven by sheer want. The addicting rush of relief bleeding through.

He’s still here. You’re promised another day as few and far in between as they come.

You feel the hard line of him pressing between the wet slick of your bodies, growing warm and heavy at the base of your navel as palms blindly wander over skin. Sighing into his mouth, you adjust yourself to reach down, mind thick with the heady idea of putting all of your focus into taking care of him, but his gentle grip on your wrist stops you from traveling further.

He softly shakes his head, mumbling something incoherent, something about just needing you, before guiding your hand back up on the nape of his neck and diving into your embrace with renewed desperation. He wanted to be present for more, but the day’s misfortunes could only allow for this, and you’d never fault him for it. You’d never push.

His lips drew themselves down the length of your neck, barely teasing with the soft scrape of his teeth, granting a moment for you to both retain some much needed air. The water was starting to grow lukewarm, nudging you out of your joint daze.

“Want me to help you wash?” Your fingers carded through damp curls, letting your fingernails scrape gingerly at his scalp. He let out a soft hum of approval, so you made the move to grab one of the loofahs hanging on a shelf, his own personal one that you bought for him of course, and carefully started scrubbing away any remnants of frustration or fatigue.

Once you were done, he insisted on returning the favor, though you playfully rushed him as the water’s decreasing temperature was the annoying causation of rising gooseflesh spreading rampant all over your body, and you couldn’t stomach it for much longer, as much as you appreciated his silent doting.

Drying off, you settle in the best set of pajamas you could find for both of you and sit him back down to make sure that the rest of his wounds are clean. The tenderness in which you did so almost made him melt into a pathetic puddle.

Settling a butterfly bandage on his split cheek, you lean forward to stamp a warm peck along the tender bone. His strong arms were quick to hold you there, relishing in the small action as if it could make him somewhat whole again.

“C’mon. Take these, then we need to get you snug and asleep.” You press another kiss to his lips, then pull him up to give him a couple of painkillers in hopes he wouldn’t feel like he got hit by a bus as bad in the morning.

Following you like a lost stray into the oasis that was your bed, you intertwine your limbs with his from behind, pressing close as if you could mend together and be one.

Nothing can touch you here, he decided in that moment.

He’d ensure it.

#writer blog #reds-writings #pope cody #andrew cody #animal kingdom #pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody #andrew cody x reader #fic #shawn hatosy

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y3sterdaysproblem · 13 days ago

Note

How does toxic!fwb Chris react if you bleed through your pants, and you didn’t know?

you and chris had been out all day despite your request to stay in bed and rot while you bled what felt like your heart out, lower back aching and tension headache persisting despite medication.

chris had tried to insist that some fresh air would make you feel better, and in the beginning it did, but now, nearly six hours into being out, you were ready to be home.

“one more store, i want to buy a new hat,” chris tells you as you walk through the mall, his hands resting in the pockets of his grey hoodie he always wore, seemingly in a great mood for once in his life.

“chris,” you groan, throwing your head back for a moment as you complained before picking it back up to glare at him. “my cramps are coming back, my head hurts and i’m tired. can you just order a hat online?”

he looks over at you and sighs, seeing how exhausted you looked. but you guys were passing the store on the way out, so in his mind, it would be a total waste not to go. “i’ll be fast, i know what i want,” he tells you, slinging an arm around your shoulder and placing an out of character kiss to your temple as he turned your bodies and rounded you into the store.

you followed, seemingly having no choice, but you parted from him to look at some of the hats on the other side of the store to distract yourself, wondering how hard it would be to convince him to buy you one. you’re about to ask him when you feel his presence behind you, hands gently wrapping around your waist.

you open your mouth to speak, thinking he’s just going to hug you from behind, but when you look down you realize he’s tying the sleeves of his hoodie at your stomach, his lips next to your ear.

“you bled through your shorts,” he says in a quiet whisper so nobody else hears, pulling away as you spin around with a horrified gasp, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “no,” you mumble against your palm in disbelief. this hasn’t happened in years.

you look down at your light wash, denim shorts, wondering to yourself why on earth you didn’t think to wear something darker on your heaviest day. “come on, i’ll get the hat another day. let’s get you to the bathroom.” chris grabs your hand from your mouth and guides you out of the store and to a family stall, opening the door for you. “wait here and i’ll go find you something, okay?”

you walk into the family bathroom and nod, still in disbelief that you’d actually bled through your fucking pants. it’s one thing to leak a little in your underwear, but this was rare.

after shutting and locking the door, you pulled the hoodie off from around your waist and hung it up, turning around in the mirror and looking over your shoulder. a shocked gasp leaves your lips when you realize how bad it actually is and it’s hard to fight off the tears that sting in your eyes. there’s no way chris was the only one that saw this.

it’s only about five minutes later when you hear a knock on the door and you rush to open it, pulling chris in who now holds a bag in his hand. he shuts the door behind him and pulls out a new pair of underwear and some black sweatpants, setting them on the counter. “here, change and put your old clothes in this bag,” he tells you, turning his attention onto you when you don’t answer.

“what’s wrong?” he asks when he sees your eyes brimming with tears, taking a tentative step closer to you. “it’s so bad,” you choke out, voice thick with emotion. god, you hated how easy it was for something to set you off like this during your period. “i’m so embarrassed.”

chris’s expression softens at your clear discomfort, hands reaching out for the button on your shorts. “it’s fine,” he says, his flat tone hiding any real displays of comfort. “nobody saw. i only noticed because i was staring at your ass.”

his words make you feel slightly better but not much, only enough to make you stop complaining and instead let out pathetic sniffles as he unzips your shorts. “c’mon, let’s get you changed so you can get in bed.”

you let him peel the denim off you but stop him when he reaches for your panties, hand grabbing his wrist gently. “i don’t want you to see it,” you tell him, looking down at where his fingers paused at the waistband.

chris sighs, tucking his fingertips in the tops of the seamless panties but not pushing them down. “i’ve eaten you out on your period before, i can handle it,” he tells you like it’s obvious. you cringe at the memory, still holding his wrist. “this is different, it’s.. it’s gross.”

he moves one of his hands up to your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. “it’s fine. i’m a grown man, i can handle it.” you grumble in response and let go of his wrist, letting him slide your panties down your legs, instantly regretting it when you saw how much blood was actually in them. “oh my god, never mind, ew,” chris fake gags, leaning over so he can pull them off of your ankles.

“chris!” you whine in embarrassment, slapping his shoulder as he stood up straight again, not finding any amusement in the way he met your eyes again with a smirk playing on his lips. “i’m kidding,” he grins, throwing your underwear and shorts onto the counter by the sink.

you huff and head to the toilet to at least try and wipe up some of the mess, grumbling to yourself about how annoying chris was. he interrupts you by reaching out, his fingers holding something. you look up and see he’s holding a tampon, something you had forgotten to grab when you left your place. “where’d you get this?” you ask him, taking it from his hand.

“asked like four girls on the way back to the bathroom until someone had one,” he says as he shrugs his shoulders like it’s no big deal, like the thoughtful action doesn’t make your heart soar despite how miserable you are.

“thanks,” you say plainly, forcing down a disgustingly cheesy grin. he just hums in response and pulls out his phone to give you some privacy. once you flush and stand up, he hands you the brand new clothes he bought and puts your dirty ones in the now empty bag, holding onto it for you.

“ready?” he asks when you’re dressed and your hands are washed, putting his grey hoodie back on and zipping it up. you nod and walk towards the door. he lets you out and guides you through the mall with a gentle hand on your back and you can’t ignore the way his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin makes your stomach flutter.

#⤷ toxic!fwb!chris x toxic!fwb!reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖#⤷ toxic!fwb!chris ⊹ ࣪ ˖#⤷ toxic!fwb!reader! ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris x you

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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

Text

My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.

Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k

A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing.

But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.

But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.

While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.

Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”

You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.

“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”

Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”

You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”

She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”

“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.

The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.

Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.

Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.

You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.

“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”

Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.

“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.

“No, I mean… you think that too right?”

You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”

She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:

“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”

You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.

-&-

Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.

It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.

You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.

Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw.

And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.

Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.

“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not.

You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”

The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.

You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”

Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.

“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.

“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”

You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”

You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”

She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”

You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.

-&-

Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.

The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.

“What?”

“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.

“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was.

“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”

“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.

Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you.

Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close.

Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.

The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.

Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.

“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second.

Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.

“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides.

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.

“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”

You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs.

Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.

When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”

She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.

It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.

Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.

You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.

"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."

She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.

"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."

Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.

But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.

An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.

Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.

She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.

"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.

It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.

You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.

The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.

She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.

In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.

Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.

"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.

For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.

You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.

"Hey, little witch."

She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."

Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."

She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fics #elizabeth olsen x reader #bottom!wanda #bottom!wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff smut

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mssishipi · 2 months ago

Text

TASTE OF INDULGENCE

CHAPTER 3 — WHY ARE YOU SO SALTY?

— This was supposed to be just sex—no feelings, no attachments. What happened in bed was meant to stay there. Jake and Jay were perfect together, an undeniably loving couple who had everything. From the very beginning, you were just a third, nothing more. So why does it feel like you’re the only one left out? Fuck, why are you salty?

content tags: fluff and fluff and angst, sunoo being annoyed at jayke for always stealing reader away from him, one kys joke, reader is falling in love, jayke being soft, don't expect romance in this chapter bcs it's angst, still they have fluff, some other people cameo (that you might be missing since chap 1).

warning: explicit content (smut), threesome (soft dom jake, soft dom jay, sub reader), but they kind of have solo moments, multiple sex position, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, nipple play, overstimulation, cunnilingus, rimming, anal fingering, protected anal sex (fxm), attempt of double penetration, blowjob, ofc sum mxm scene. MDNI! WC:15.1K

want a taste?

notes: thank you for the 1k followers! i better not see any of you hating on my girl y/n.

So this is what it feels like.

The kind of thing your friends always gushed about—their whispers about how addicting it was, how they couldn't get enough. You never really got it. Until now. You didn't know exactly how long it had been going on. A month? Maybe more?

At some point, it became a routine, an unspoken agreement between the three of you. Sex, always sex. Even with classes, even with assignments piling up, there were moments where the three of you just couldn't help yourselves.

Your weekends are always ending up in their sheets. There were times when you swore you'd go a few days without it—focus, be responsible. But the second one of them (always Jake) pulled you close, hands roaming, lips brushing against your skin, you already knew how it would end.

Your schedules were never fully in sync. Different classes, different obligations. But somehow, you always found a way.

Because it was sex. And none of you could seem to stop.

"Shit, slow down!" Jay hissed through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into your waist in a futile attempt to slow your relentless pace. But you didn't listen, the pleasure was too consuming, and all you could do was keep moving, keep chasing that euphoric high as you bounced on top of him.

Your moans spilled freely, the sound only making Jay groan beneath you. Behind you, Jake was grinning against your shoulder, completely entertained by the display in front of him. His hands were on your breasts, kneading them, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

"Come on, tell him, baby," he murmured.

You gasped, your hips faltering for a brief moment before sheer need pushed you forward again, rolling, grinding against Jay in slow, deliberate circles.

You could feel how much he was holding back—the way his fingers flexed against your skin, the restraint in his muscles as he tried to keep himself from flipping you over and taking control.

Jay's brows furrowed, his lips parted as he breathed heavily beneath you. You bit your lip, eyes locked onto his as you let the words tumble out with a needy tone. "M-my p-pussy is so empty, p-please fill it up," you whined.

Jake let out a low whistle beside you. "There it is," he mused, watching the way Jay's entire demeanor shifted. His muscles tensed, his fingers twitched against your skin, and his expression darkened in the most delicious way.

Jay growled, his grip tightening before suddenly yanking you down, forcing you to take him deeper, bottoming out inside you in one swift, punishing motion. You choked on a moan, your walls spasming around him at the sudden stretch.

Jake was right—Jay loved that kind of talk.

"T-there—hah, oh my God! Ahh!" You practically screamed, your hands clawing at Jay's arms as he manhandled you, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

You barely had time to process before he was already moving again, pounding into you with a force that made your head spin.

The sheets twisted beneath you, your fingers gripping the fabric for some semblance of control, but it was useless. You were completely at their mercy, exactly where they wanted you.

Jake chuckled, watching the way your body jolted with every deep thrust before settling himself beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. His mouth found your neck first, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your heated skin, trailing lower and lower until his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking eagerly.

Your eyes rolled back, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you.

For years, you had imagined something like this.

You'd seen it in porn, fantasized about the intensity of two mouths, two cocks, hands everywhere, pleasure heightened beyond what you thought possible. You used to ache with frustration, wondering if you'd ever experience what those girls did—the kind of overwhelming, mind-numbing pleasure that left them ruined, wrecked, completely undone.

You'd sometimes cried, wondering if maybe there was something wrong with you, why no one else had ever made you feel this.

Now, you were drowning in it, every nerve in your body is alive, buzzing, and electrified with sensation. Years of frustration are now it all poured out of you, swallowed whole by them.

And God, you loved every second of it. It felt endless, like they were making up for every second of deprivation, stretching time itself just to ruin you over and over again.

Jay let out a ragged growl, his grip on your thighs tightening as his thrusts became deeper. "Shit, I'm fucking cumming."

Beside you, Jake pulled away from your nipple, his mouth swollen and glistening as he turned to Jay. Without hesitation, he grabbed the back of Jay's neck and kissed him.

You watched as their tongues slid together, swallowing each other's moans. The sight sent a fresh pulse of heat through you, a sharp ace blooming deep inside your core.

Your fingers twitched, then grasped at Jake's arm, a mindless, needy tug. Include me.

Jake felt it immediately, breaking the kiss just enough to glance at you, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Feeling left out, baby?"

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth. His teeth grazed your lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, making you shudder.

Jay's hands slid over your stomach, his palms warm as he moved up—brushing over your ribs, cupping your breasts, kneading them firmly. His thumbs flicked over your nipples, coaxing a breathless moan from your lips as your head fell back against the pillows.

Jake pulled away just in time to see the way your body arched into Jay's touch, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

A sudden, sharp thrust pulled your focus back to Jay. Your eyes snapped open, locking onto his dark, intense gaze. His grip on your breast tightened as he drove into you with slow, full strokes.

"Say it again," Jay growled. His thrusts grew sharper, rocking your body with every movement.

A whimper slipped from your lips, your hands flying to his wrists, gripping them for balance. Your mind felt hazy, drunk on the pleasure flooding your senses.

Without thinking, your other hand drifted to Jake's cock, fingers wrapping around his length. He was so hard, twitching in your grasp. A satisfied hum rumbled from his chest as you stroked him, your fingers tightening, gliding in slow motions.

Jake exhaled a sharp breath, his head tilting back slightly. When he looked at you again, his eyes were heavy-lidded, his lips parted in a lazy, pleased smile. He guided your hand along his length, showing you exactly how he liked it.

"Come on, baby," Jake murmured, voice velvety. "Say it again, hmm?"

Your breath hitched. You hesitated for a moment, cheeks flushing, because you weren't usually the type to talk during sex. It wasn't something you were used to.

But with the way they were looking at you, waiting, and starving for it. You bit your lip, gaze flickering between them, before finally whispering:

"U-use me 'til you c-cum. F-fill me, please."

A deep groan tore from Jay's throat, while Jake hissed, his grip on your hand tightening as his cock twitched in your palm.

You were practically screaming at this point. Everything was too much, too good—you could hardly believe this was your life now, wrapped up between them, drowning in sensations you'd never thought you'd get to experience.

You could feel every inch of Jay stretching you, filling you so completely, his deep, steady thrusts hitting on your g-spot inside you over and over again.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna cum—oh, shit." Jay moaned, his head tilting back, his jaw clenching. His fingers dug into your thighs as he held you still, feeling the way your walls squeezed around him, gripping him.

Jake pulled away from your hand while Jay straightened his back, adjusting his position, his grip shifting to your legs. Without warning, he pushed them further apart, spreading you wider, sinking even deeper inside you. A ragged cry ripped from your throat, your hands flying to his forearms.

You are catching your breath until you felt a warm breath ghosting over your swollen clit.

Your stomach tightened, and your entire body jerked when you felt the first slow, deliberate flick of his tongue against your clit. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling as he licked a long, slow stripe over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh my God!" you gasped, your fingers fisting the sheets, your head tossing to the side.

Jake hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight through your core. "She's so sensitive," he murmured, lips brushing against your slick heat.

Jay exhaled harshly, his fingers flexing on your thighs as he fought for control. His cock twitched inside you, the added stimulation pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

"You're such a tease," Jay gritted out, his hips snapping forward, driving into you harder.

Jake just grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief as he flattened his tongue against your clit, sucking gently.

Your vision blurred, the world around you dissolving into nothing but pure, white-hot pleasure. Every muscle in your body locked up, your back arching off the bed as the orgasm crashed through you. Your walls clamped down around Jay, squeezing him so tightly that his rhythm stuttered, his breath hitching in his throat.

The sudden, hot rush of his release spilling deep inside you, filling you up completely. Jay let out a ragged groan, his fingers bruising against your thighs as he slammed himself deep one last time, grinding into you as he rode out his high.

The pleasure had hit so fast, so hard, that your body collapsed under the weight of it. Your mind went blank, your limbs limp, but before you could fully sink into the overwhelming sensation, Jake was suddenly there—moving swiftly, his hands gripping your arms, steadying you. "Whoa, baby—breathe," he murmured, His lips brushed over your temple as Jay's hips gave one last, weak thrust, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

"Fuck," Jay exhaled, his grip finally loosening, hands sliding over your trembling thighs before he slumped forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath is shaky as you tried to steady yourself, the aftershocks still lingering in your body. Your legs trembled, muscles twitching from the overwhelming sensation that still buzzed through you.

Suddenly, Jay's nose brushed against the curve of your neck as he nuzzled closer, his body relaxing against yours. The intimate gesture sent a soft, unexpected warmth blooming in your chest. While Jake's fingers lacing with yours, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

"You're okay?" Jake's voice was softer than usual, his fingers traced idle patterns on your wrist.

You blinked up at him, your mind still sluggish. You felt too much all at once—the lingering warmth of their bodies pressed against yours, the way Jay's breath ghosted over your skin and the soft ache between your thighs. And there was something else that is more deeper and unsettling.

They always did these small, tender touches that shouldn't mean anything, yet somehow felt like they did.

Of course, you liked it, but in the back of your mind, it was too much, too good like a dream you'd eventually have to wake up from.

"Shower?" Jay offered, you blinked up at him before glancing at Jake, who was still hard. He caught your gaze, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips before he leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your mouth.

"It's okay," he murmured against your lips. "I'm sure you're tired already."

Tired? That was an understatement. Still, you hesitated, looking between the two of them because the thought of just leaving him like that made your chest tight.

You swallowed, "I can still..."

Jake huffed out a soft laugh, cutting you off with another kiss, this one slower, more indulgent, and when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Not tonight, baby," he murmured, his fingers trailing lightly down your arm. "You'll be sore enough as it is."

He wasn't wrong. You could already feel the dull ache settling into your muscles.

Jay shifted beside you, sitting up, rubbing a hand over his face before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You exhaled shakily, allowing Jay to pull you up. Jake stretched, letting out a low groan before reluctantly rolling off the bed.

As Jay led you toward the bathroom, you cast one last glance at Jake, watching as he lazily stroked himself, smirking as he caught you staring.

"Go on," he teased, "I'll take care of myself."

Jay scooped you up, carrying you toward the bathroom. Your body felt weightless in his arms as the exhaustion settling deep in your bones.

The shower was already running, steam curling into the air. Instead of stepping directly under the spray, Jay lowered you into the bathtub, letting the warm water lap at your skin. The moment you sank into it, your body melted further, muscles loosening as the heat surrounded you.

You exhaled, head resting back against the tub's edge, eyes fluttering shut. The water rose higher, enveloping you completely, and for a moment, it felt like you could drift off right then and there.

Jake followed after not too long, he stepped into the tub behind you, his legs bracketing yours as he pulled you back against his chest.

Jay was still outside the tub, kneeling beside it. His hands dipped into the water, fingers skimming along your legs before reaching for the soap. The way he lathered it in his hands was deliberate, slow, before he started gliding his palms over your arms, your shoulders—so gentle, so careful.

Jake hummed against your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Relax," he murmured, his hands moving to rest on your waist beneath the water. "Just let us take care of you."

The intimacy of it all was overwhelming. This was new, too new. It wasn't just the sex, it was everything that came after. It was the quiet moments, it was the way they touched you, cared for you.

And you were just now realizing how dangerously comfortable you were becoming with it.

Without thinking, you shifted, turning into Jake's embrace. Your arms slid around his torso, pressing yourself against him, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Jake stilled for a second, as if caught off guard. Then, slowly, he let out a soft exhale, his arms tightening around you. His chin rested against the top of your head, fingers tracing along your back beneath the water.

A quiet understanding passed between Jay and Jake as their eyes met over your shoulder. Jay's lips twitched into a soft smile before he reached forward, his palm smoothing over your back, working the tension from your muscles as he poured warm water down your spine.

The sensation made you hum in response, your body sinking further into Jake's hold, lulled by the quiet care surrounding you.

The three of you slipped into the lecture hall, noticeably late. You kept your head down, fingers fumbling to smooth your hair as you hurried toward your usual seat while Jay and Jake trailed behind you.

Sunoo huffed the moment you slid into the chair beside him. With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he snatched up the things he'd left on the seat that is clearly meant to reserve it for you.

"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, shoving his notebook into his bag.

Before you could respond, Jake tugged at the hem of your uniform, leaning in. "Hey, there are three open seats at the back," he murmured, nodding toward the empty row.

You glanced between him and Sunoo, lips parting slightly in hesitation. Sunoo tsked, shifting in his chair dramatically as if to make a point.

You gave Jake a small, apologetic smile before turning back to face the front. He exhaled through his nose, but didn't push it. Jay, as usual, said nothing, simply sliding into the seat behind you.

The lecture dragged on, your mind only half-focused as you felt the occasional tap of Jake's pen against the back of your chair. When class finally ended, Sunoo wasted no time, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the open field outside.

The two of you had spent too much time here during your vacant periods—lying on the grass, complaining about classes, escaping from whatever responsibilities you didn't feel like dealing with.

Sunoo sat down first with a grunt, motioning for you to join him. As soon as you did, he reached out, fixing the slightly crooked knot of your necktie with a pout.

"You're spending way too much time with them," he muttered. You opened your mouth to argue, but Sunoo was already pouting dramatically, arms crossed over his chest.

"Am I not your favorite gay best friend anymore?" he whined, tilting his head with exaggerated sadness.

A laugh bubbled from your lips despite yourself. "You're being ridiculous," you teased, nudging his leg with your knee.

"I'm being neglected," he insisted, flopping back onto the grass. "I'm being abandoned. Replaced."

"You are so dramatic."

Sunoo huffed, turning his head to squint at you. "Seriously, though. You've been with them nonstop lately. I get it, okay? They're hot and good at—" He made a vague gesture with his hands. "—stuff. But what about me? We used to be inseparable."

Your smile faltered slightly. You knew Sunoo wasn't actually mad, but there was something genuine beneath his usual theatrics.

"I know," you admitted, lowering your gaze. "It's just... different with them. I don't know how to explain it."

Sunoo propped himself up on his elbows. "Try me."

You hesitated because how could you put it into words?

Sunoo watched your expression carefully, then sighed. "Look, I just don't want you getting hurt. They're... well..." Sunoo stop what he was about to say, you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

Sunoo softened. "I'm not saying stop. Just... don't lose yourself in it, okay?"

You swallowed, feeling an odd tightness in your chest. "I won't," you promised.

Sunoo stared at you for another second before sighing and sitting up fully. Then, with a sly grin, he poked your cheek. "Now, tell me the dirty details. Who's better?"

"Sunoo!"

"What? Best friends share everything!"

You told yourself it wasn't a big deal.

Whatever you were feeling—it was just because this was new, unfamiliar. You weren't used to it yet, that's all. It wasn't something deeper.

Just go with the flow.

Besides, Sunoo hugged you all the time, kissed your hair, looped his arm through yours without a second thought. Affection didn't have to mean anything complicated.

These past few days, you'd been keeping a little distance, limiting how much time you spent with them. Not because you didn't want to be around them, but because you didn't want to get used to this feeling.

And, you didn't want Sunoo to think you were replacing him. He was your best friend—your super best friend, as he liked to remind you. No one could ever take his place.

"Let's go! We're going to Burger King!" Sunoo declared, tugging your arm dramatically.

You barely had a second to react before Jake's arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you against his chest. A startled squeal left your lips as your feet nearly lifted off the ground.

"She already said yes when I asked her for shawarma," Jake argued, his grip tightening, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke.

You twisted between them, eyes flicking back and forth. Sunoo glared at Jake and Jake smirked at Sunoo.

Sunoo narrowed his eyes, gripping your arm tighter. "Shawarma? Seriously? That's so basic. She's getting a burger."

Jake scoffed, his arms still locked around your waist. "She literally loves shawarma. And, unlike you, I asked first."

"Oh, so now we're keeping track of who asks first?" Sunoo shot back, voice dripping with mockery. "That's cute, Jake. Real cute."

You groaned, twisting between them. "Guys—"

"Nope." Sunoo cut you off, yanking you toward him. "Burger."

Jake pulled you right back against his chest. "Shawarma."

Jay sighed, barely looking up from his phone as your body jerked between Jake and Sunoo's relentless tug-of-war.

"She's coming with us!" Jake huffed, tightening his grip on your waist.

Sunoo scoffed, yanking your arm in the opposite direction. "Excuse me?! I had her first!"

Jake let out a mocking gasp. "Oh, so now we're keeping track of who had her first?" He stuck his tongue out at Sunoo.

Sunoo placed a hand over his chest. "We are super best friends! Inseparable! Back in high school, everyone said we were like a total package. Where I go, she goes."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Dude, you sound like a clingy ex."

Sunoo gasped, absolutely scandalized. "I do not—"

Before he could finish, Jay suddenly reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you toward him.

"Enough," he muttered, slipping his phone into his pocket. He started walking, his fingers laced through yours to keep you from being stolen again.

"Wha—? Where are you taking her?!" Sunoo yelped.

Jay didn't even glance back. "Away from you two idiots."

Jake let out a low whistle, crossing his arms. "Damn. Kinda hot."

Sunoo scowled. "You would say that."

Meanwhile, your brain short-circuited as you stared down at Jay's hand in yours, warmth spreading from your fingertips all the way up to your face. Jake and Sunoo trailed after you, still bickering over who got to walk beside you, tugging at your sleeves and elbowing each other like children.

Jay let out a sharp exhale, clearly losing patience. Without a word, he shifted his grip, draping an arm firmly around your shoulders and pulling you flush against his side.

Sunoo cross his arms and huffed dramatically. "This is favoritism."

Jay shot them both a deadpan look. "Shut up."

In the end, none of the arguing mattered. The four of you ended up crammed into a booth at a Chinese restaurant, chopsticks clinking against bowls as you all shared food between bites of conversation.

Sunoo still sulked. Jake kept stealing food from your plate. And Jay, despite his earlier scowl, just kept filling your bowl with more dumplings.

The weekend arrived, and Jay had texted, asking you to hang out. At the same time, Sunoo and Wonyoung had invited you to go figure skating.

Torn between the two, you decided to make the most of your day, texting Jay that you'd come by in the evening, not wanting to miss out on time with your friends.

By the time you stepped out of the taxi in front of Jay's apartment, your legs were sore and aching, exhaustion creeping into your muscles from hours on the ice. You barely had time to lift your hand to knock before the door swung open.

Jake stood there, his eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of you. His sweet smile stretched wide before he reached forward, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you inside.

"Finally," he breathed, his grip warm and firm as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

A giggle escaped your lips as he pressed a trail of playful, affectionate kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. Your stomach fluttered—there it was again, that strange, uncontrollable feeling. The way your heart pounded just a little too hard.

"Missed you, missed you," Jake whined softly, his cheek brushing against yours as he held you impossibly closer.

You laughed, shaking your head as your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns against Jake's back. "We literally ate at the Chinese restaurant three days ago," you reminded him.

Jake only whined in response, rocking the both of you side to side like a sulking child. He lifted his head, lower lip jutted out in the most exaggerated pout, eyes big and pleading.

"Yeah, but Sunoo was there," he complained, brows furrowing. "I wanna spend more time with you—just me, you, and Jay."

His words sent a strange little jolt through you, warm curling in your stomach.

"You didn't even text that much today," he muttered, his pout deepening.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I was with Sunoo and Wonyoung, you know that."

Jake huffed dramatically. "Still. I need my daily dose of you."

His words sent another jolt through you, curling around your ribs like a slow-burning ember. You tried to play it off, focusing on how ridiculously cute he looked instead of the way your pulse picked up speed.

"You're such a baby," you teased, reaching up to pinch his cheeks between your fingers. His skin was warm under your touch, and when he scrunched his nose in response, it only made your heart pound harder.

"Am not," he grumbled, though he made no effort to pull away. If anything, he leaned into your touch. His eyes flickered over your face, studying you for a second before his lips curled into a grin. "But if I were a baby, I'd be your favorite, right?"

Before you could answer, a voice cut through the moment. "You're blocking the door," Jay said flatly, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, watching the two of you.

Jake didn't let go immediately. Instead, he smirked and tightened his arms around you one last time, swaying you both dramatically before finally pulling back. "She's mine for the next hour," Jake announced proudly.

Jay rolled his eyes. "You literally saw her three days ago."

"And it felt like years," Jake shot back, dragging you toward the living room.

The movie flickered on the screen, but it had long since become nothing more than background noise. You and Jake were supposed to be watching it together—Jay had opted out, choosing to focus on his classwork instead, not wanting to procrastinate. But somewhere along the way, Jake's hand had found its way to your thigh, stroking absently as if he wasn't really thinking about it.

At first, it was innocent. Just a casual touch. But then his fingers started moving, kneading softly, tracing small circles against your skin, his fingertips creeping higher with each pass.

Your breath caught. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position, but your legs instinctively parted. You didn't even realize you were doing it until Jake let out a quiet chuckle.

"Look at that," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your clothed heat. "Already opening up for me?"

Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, body sinking into the couch as he teased you. The touch was light, barely there, but enough to set a slow burn deep in your stomach.

His fingers pressed down, rubbing slow, lazy circles through the fabric of your shorts. Your breath came out in a shaky exhale, hips lifting ever so slightly, chasing more friction.

"You're so warm," he mused, his voice dipping lower, more hushed. "And already so wet."

You nodded weakly, your thoughts scattering as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your bare skin. A quiet moan slipped past your lips.

"You know," you breathed between soft gasps, "I still can't believe I'm experiencing this."

Jake hummed, his lips trailing along the side of your neck. "Oh? And why's that?"

Your fingers twitched against the couch, gripping the fabric as he slid a finger between your folds. The touch was electric, sending pleasure zipping up your spine.

"I never really enjoyed sex before," you said, gasping when he pressed against your clit just right. "It's... shocking, I guess. That you and Jay just know exactly how to—fuck—please me."

Jake smirked, his lips curling against your skin. "Mmm, keep talking, baby," he whispered.

Your breath hitched as his fingers moved with deliberate skill, teasing and stroking in just the right way. Your thighs trembled, your body completely pliant under his touch.

"I-it's like—oh, shit, shit, right there, Jake—it's like my body just picked only the two of you."

Jake groaned, his fingers pressed deeper, circling with the perfect amount of pressure. He pulled back just enough to look at you. "Damn right it did," he murmured. "Your body will only listen to us."

Jake shifted his position, settling more comfortably between your legs. His free hand tugged at the hem of your shirt, pushing it up to your collarbone, baring your chest to the cool air.

You didn't wait, you unclasped your bra in a rush. Jake's lips curled into a smirk, his breath warm against your skin.

"You like it more when your left breast gets attention, don't you?" His voice was teasing, but he didn't wait for an answer.

The second his mouth latched onto your left mound, a whimper tore from your throat. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, lips closing around it as he sucked just hard enough to make your back arch off the couch.

"Hah—fuck, Jake," you moaned, your back arching off the couch as his fingers pumped deeper.

Jake chuckled against your flushed skin. "Jay was right," he murmured, pulling back just enough to blow cool air over your wet nipple, making it pebble even harder. His fingers didn't slow between your legs, pressing deep, curling just right. "You always react more when we do this."

To prove his point, he dragged his teeth lightly over the stiff peak, making you jolt, a breathless gasp escaping your lips. Then, his mouth closed around it again, sucking hard enough to make your toes curl. His free hand found your other breast, rolling and pinching your neglected nipple between his fingers, the combination of sensations making your head spin.

Your body was melting under his touch, too sensitive. Every flick of his tongue, every slow, deliberate stroke of his fingers inside you. It was too much and not enough all at once.

Your hands flew to his hair, gripping at the soft strands, trying to anchor yourself as you rocked against his hand. The wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you mixed with the low hum of pleasure vibrating from his throat.

"Jake—Jake, I'm—" You barely managed to get the words out. You could feel it, that familiar, intoxicating build-up, your walls clenching tight around his fingers.

Jake groaned, feeling the way you squeezed him. "Oh, you love that, don't you?" he mused. "Knowing we talk about you? Knowing we know exactly what makes you fall apart?"

His words sent a new wave of arousal crashing through you. The idea of Jay and Jake discussing you like this, learning every single detail of your body, what you liked, what drove you insane—it made your core throb even harder.

Jake pulled back to look at you, lips swollen, pupils blown wide with lust. He didn't stop, fingers pressing deeper, fucking into you at a steady, teasing pace. "Bet you'd love to hear what else we say about you, huh?" he murmured, grinning as he watched your breath hitch.

Jake pushed himself up, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"We would love to fuck that ass."

A raw moan spilling from your lips, your grip on his hair tightened as your body tensed. A rush of heat pooled in your stomach, pleasure snapping so fast and sharp that your hips bucked against his hand, thighs shaking as your orgasm crashed over you.

"Oh my God, Jake!" you gasped, clenching hard around his fingers, your body twitching, desperate to hold onto the overwhelming pleasure for just a little longer.

Jake groaned, his free hand smoothing over your thigh, gripping it possessively as he worked you through your high. "Woah, that's it." he murmured. "Came so fast just from that, huh? You love the idea, don't you?"

You swallowed, still catching your breath, your body limp against the couch. Jake pulled his fingers from you slowly, watching the way your slick coated them, shining in the dim light.

He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a hum of satisfaction. "Fuck," he sighed, grinning as he met your dazed, fucked-out gaze.

"Y-You're going to f-fuck my butt?"

Jake's grin widened, his cock twitching inside his pajama pants at how wrecked you sounded. Instead of answering right away, he leaned in, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to your lips.

"Only if you want to," he murmured.

You didn't even hesitate, eyes wide and desperate when you looked at him. "I want to."

Jake inhaled sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening for a second before he let out a low chuckle. "Fuck, yeah."

His cock throbbed at just the thought, but he forced himself to pull back, exhaling through his nose to keep control.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up first." Jake scooped you up, carrying you toward the bathroom on the first floor. The moment he set you down, he was already moving, grabbing the necessary supplies, turning on the faucet, letting warm water fill the sink.

You sat on the closed toilet seat, face already burning in embarrassment as you watched him prepare. "I can do it myself, you know."

Jake only smirked, kneeling in front of you. "I know, but where's the fun in that?"

A whimper lodged in your throat when he gently guided you to stand, then turned you to face the counter. His hands slid down your waist, his touch is careful as he spread your ass apart, exposing both your soaked cunt and your tight, clenching hole.

You let out a choked sound, immediately covering your face with your hands.

Jake chuckled at your reaction, pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. "Don't be shy, baby," he murmured, "I'm gonna eat this later, you know."

Your breath hitched, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, anticipation coiling in your stomach despite the embarrassment flooding your face.

Then the douche touched your hole. You sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively tensing, but Jake was already there, his lips trailing soft kisses along your shoulder, his free hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back.

"Relax," he cooed, his voice low and patient. "Anus muscles are naturally good at sucking, so don't worry about the water coming in. It won't feel as weird as you think."

Jake squeezed your hip reassuringly before continuing, "I'm gonna let the water stay inside for a few seconds. It'll feel uncomfortable, but it's totally bearable, okay?"

You exhaled shakily, nodding, trusting him completely.

Jake smiled against your skin, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Good girl."

Your body shuddered at his praise, the tension in your shoulders melting ever so slightly. Jake kept his hand steady on your back, his fingers tracing light patterns to keep you relaxed as he slowly let the water flow in.

A strange pressure built inside you, foreign and mildly uncomfortable, but not unbearable. You whined softly, shifting on your feet, and Jake leaned in, his lips brushing your ear.

"Breathe through it," he murmured, "just a few more seconds, baby."

You focused on his touch, on the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back. When he finally let the water out, a strange relief washed over you, making you sigh.

"See? Not so bad, huh?" Jake grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

You nodded, still feeling a bit shy about the whole process. "It's... weird."

Jake chuckled, squeezing your waist. "Yeah, first time always is. But you're doing so good for me."

His words made your stomach flutter. It was stupid, the way something as simple as that made warmth spread through your chest.

"One more time, okay?" Jake said. "Then you'll be all clean for us."

Your breath caught in your throat at the implication—for us.

"I'll be the first, alright? Get you nice and used to it."

You whimpered at his words, thighs pressing together as heat surged through you. Jake chuckled, noticing your reaction.

"Then, when you're ready," he continued, "we'll take you together."

A gasp left your lips as he nipped at your ear. "I'll be in your pussy, stretching you open while Jay fills up this tight little hole."

Your knees nearly buckled, a whine escaping you as you pressed your forehead against the cool tile. The images flashing through your mind—Jake stretching you open, Jay filling you from behind. It felt surreal, like stepping into one of your deepest, filthiest fantasies. The kind you'd only ever dreamed about. But this was real. This was happening.

Your pussy clenched involuntarily, already aching for more.

Once he finished helping you clean up, you turned to face him, hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him down into a heated kiss. It wasn't soft or slow, it was desperate and needy. Your hands roamed his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin as his tongue slid against yours.

Jake's hands found their way to your ass, gripping firmly as he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, locking him in place as your lips remained fused in a messy, heated kiss.

He carried you effortlessly up the stairs, his fingers kneading your flesh. You barely registered the moment when he pushed the bedroom door open, until you caught sight of Jay.

Jay was seated at his desk, head tilted slightly downward, pen gliding across the pages of his binder notebook. The only acknowledgment he gave was a brief sigh as he adjusted the volume of his headset, as if this was nothing new to him.

You swallowed, glancing at Jay's back, hesitating. "I think we're going to disturb him," you murmured quietly.

Jake only laughed, his fingers teasing along the curve of your waist. "Ignore him," he whispered, "We're going to have so much fun."

His hands traveled upward, kneading your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples. "All fours, baby. Arch your back."

Without thinking, you obeyed. Your knees pressed into the mattress, hands sinking into the sheets as you positioned yourself. You peeked over your shoulder, stealing another glance at Jay. He was still writing, pen moving in smooth, deliberate strokes, seemingly unaffected.

"He's not going to join?" you asked.

Jake smirked, running a hand down your spine, pressing at the small of your back to deepen the arch. "Patience," he murmured. "You know how Jay is. He'll join us later."

Jake reached for the drawer beside the bed, pulling out a bottle of lube. Both of you were already bare against the sheets, Jake wasted no time positioning himself behind you, his hands spreading your ass apart as he dipped his head down.

The first swipe of his tongue over your soaked folds made you gasp, your fingers curling into the sheets. "Fuck," he groaned, voice muffled against your skin. "Always so sweet."

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let yourself sink into the sensation, a breathy sigh slipping past your lips as you rocked back against his mouth.

Jake tilted his head, pressing his tongue deeper, swirling it inside you before dragging it back up. Then, he started kissing your pussy—deep, wet kisses, his tongue flicking against your clit before sliding up again.

A quiet moan escaped you, but even through the haze of pleasure, you were still aware of Jay sitting at his desk just a few feet away. You bit your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out, not wanting to disturb him. Even though, really, what you were doing behind him was distracting enough.

"I'm going to eat this little ass, okay?" Jake murmured. Your breath hitched, his hands smoothed over your back, a silent reassurance. "Hey, relax," he soothed, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine.

The moment his tongue flicked against your other hole, a sharp whimper tore from your lips. Your grip on the sheets tightened as your body jolted at the unfamiliar sensation. It was strange, but the way Jake's free hand slid between your legs to rub slow, deliberate circles over your clit sent waves of pleasure crashing over the discomfort.

And when Jake's tongue breached your hole, a sharp, uncontrollable moan ripped from your throat. The sensation was nothing like you had expected. It was hot, wet, and utterly overwhelming.

Jake let out a low laugh. "Didn't expect to like it this much, huh?" he teased before delivering a sharp slap to your pussy. You yelped, your hips jerking at the sudden sting, only for the warmth of his tongue to soothe it a moment later.

He moved effortlessly between your holes, one moment pressing into your ass, the next licking a slow, filthy stripe down to your dripping cunt. He groaned against you, savoring the way your body practically fed him, his tongue eagerly lapping up everything.

You turned your head, eyes seeking out Jay, still hunched over his notebook, pen moving steadily across the page as if nothing was happening behind him. The sight made you feel frustrated, a desperate whine escaping your lips.

"J-Jay..." you whimpered, arching your back even more, hoping and begging for him to at least look.

Jake chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking over your clit before he pulled back, lips glistening. "Aww, baby wants his attention?" he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your butt cheeks.

Your fingers twisted into the sheets, body trembling as Jake's hand came down to knead your ass. "Don't worry," he murmured. "He'll break soon. He always does."

"For now, pay attention to me, hmm?" His voice was so as his hands gliding over your skin . "I'm going to insert a finger. Okay?"

You took a deep breath, and Jake pressed another kiss to your lower back. "Breathe for me, there you go," he murmured as his slicked-up finger traced the tight ring of muscle, teasing but not pushing in just yet.

You whined softly, your body instinctively tensing again. Jake immediately noticed and stopped, pressing more soft kisses against your skin. "I won't rush you," he reassured, his tone filled with patience. "Just focus on how good it feels, okay?"

He flattened his tongue against your entrance again, massaging the sensitive skin with slow licks, easing you into the sensation. It was strange and unfamiliar—but paired with his mouth, it felt... good. Slowly, your muscles began to relax, your body responding to his careful attention.

Only when he felt you melt against him did he ease his finger inside, pushing in barely an inch before stopping. "Still good, baby?" he asked, pausing to gauge your reaction.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding against the sheets. "Y-Yeah... feels weird, but... good."

Jake grinned, "good girl. You're doing so well."

Behind you, Jay finally let out a quiet sigh, the sound barely audible over your heavy breathing. You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Though he was still pretending to focus on his notebook, the way he gripped his pen a little too tightly told you everything.

Jake's fingers pressed deeper, slick with lube, stretching you open with slow, careful movements. His cock twitched at the sight of your arched back, the way your ass framed the tight ring of muscle he was working open. He exhaled harshly through his nose, visibly restraining himself from rushing, from giving in to his own desperation.

"You're doing so good, baby," he murmured. Your breath hitched when he added another finger, scissoring you open, teasing the tight heat. It felt strange, but Jake was patient, never pushing too far.

When he was sure you were as ready as you could be, he pulled away slightly, fumbling with the condom, his hands unsteady. He sheathed himself quickly, then positioned himself behind you, his chest pressing flush against your back as he kissed your shoulder.

"I'll go slow," he whispered, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other guided himself to your entrance.

The first press of his cock made you whimper. Jake immediately hushed you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Relax, baby," he soothed, his hands moving to cup your breasts, kneading them gently. "Breathe for me, nice and slow."

Despite his best efforts to take it easy, you could hear his breath hitch, feel his thighs tremble as he pushed forward inch by inch. He was trying—really trying—not to just snap his hips forward and bury himself fully inside you.

Behind you, the scrape of a chair echoed through the room, followed by the shift of the mattress. You felt Jay's presence right beside you. When you turned your head, you found him sitting on the bed, jaw tight, eyes locked onto the place where Jake was slowly stretching you open.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Jake groaned, his voice almost breaking. "Feels so fucking good, baby—ahh—"

Before he could move any further, Jay's voice cut through. "Don't move yet."

Jake let out a frustrated curse, gripping your waist tightly as he stilled. "I know, fuck—I know," he muttered, jaw clenched, his cock twitching inside you.

Jay didn't say anything else. Instead, he grabbed the lube from the nightstand and squirted more onto Jake's length. Then, just as carefully, he guided Jake's hips forward, ensuring the stretch remained slow.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Breathe," he murmured, his hand trailing down between your legs, fingers finding your clit.

The added pleasure made you exhale sharply, your body slowly easing up. Jake took that moment to push the rest of the way in, finally bottoming out with a deep, shuddering groan.

The fullness was something—a different kind of stretch, a different kind of sensation than you were used to. You felt so completely stuffed, and the burn slowly morphing into something else.

Jay shifted beneath you, adjusting his position so that your legs straddled him, his broad frame supporting your weight as he reached between your bodies. His fingers returned to your clit, circling it. The moment his mouth latched onto your breast, sucking and teasing the sensitive bud, you let out a helpless moan, your body trembling between the two of them.

Jake took that moment to start moving. Slowly at first, rolling his hips forward, pressing himself deeper inch by inch. A strangled gasp tore from your throat as you felt every bit of him stretching you in a way that had you teetering between pleasure and overwhelming sensation.

"Ha—so good," Jake groaned, as he felt the way your body clenched around him. "Your ass is so fucking tight. I could stay buried in here forever—ahh, fuck—"

Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, fingers digging into Jay's shoulders as you struggled to ground yourself. The pressure between your legs from Jay's touch only intensified everything, sending you spiraling faster than you expected.

Jake picked up his pace, his hips snapping forward in deep thrusts. Each movement pushed you further onto Jay's waiting tongue and fingers, the dual stimulation making your mind go hazy.

You whimpered, your breath coming out in sharp, desperate gasps. "Kiss—please," you begged, eyes glossy, lips parted in a plea.

Jay wasted no time. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your moans as his hand worked faster between your legs, matching the rhythm of Jake's thrusts.

You were already overwhelmed, but you still wanted more. Needed more.

Your hands moved blindly, fumbling with the waistband of Jay's shorts, tugging at the fabric in desperation. Jake smirked behind you, his thrusts slowing slightly as he turned your head to steal another kiss.

Jay let out a deep breathe, standing just enough to push down his shorts and boxers, his hard length springing free. He palmed himself lazily, watching the way your body rocked between them.

You broke the kiss with Jake, your gaze immediately dropping to Jay's aching arousal. "Want you too, please," you whined, voice shaky as your hands are reaching for him.

Jay inhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. "Yeah?" he murmured, dragging the tip of his cock along your soaked folds, teasing your clit, your body twitching at the light, agonizing touch. You keep nodding your head desperately.

"Fuck," he muttered, his fingers gripping his dick tight as he forced himself to hold back. "Not yet. Maybe next time... we need your body to get used to this first."

Your heart dropped, "b-but..." your voice wavered, disappointment crashing into you.

Jake stilled behind you, his hands soothing over your hips. "Shh, don't cry, baby," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder, but the tears were already slipping down your cheeks.

Jay cursed under his breath, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. "You're too fucking cute when you get like this," he sighed. "We're just taking our time,"

You hiccupped a breath, nodding, even as your body still ached for more.

Jake's grip tightened on your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. His pace grew frantic and desperate, losing himself in the way your body clenched around him.

Your moans grew louder, mixing with his gasps, your legs shaking violently. Your muscles gave out, and the two of you collapsed onto Jay beneath you.

"Shit—!" Jay cursed as your weight pressed down on him, but his hand never left your dripping cunt. His fingers slipped inside, one, then two—stretching you open, curling it together with Jake's thrust inside your ass.

A scream ripped from your throat, back arching as the sudden intrusion sent you into an orgasm with no build-up. Your vision blurred, your body convulsing between them, the pleasure hitting so hard that it almost hurt.

"I'm cumming, oh fuck — I'm cumming!" Jake groaned, his hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom, his grip on your waist loosening as the last waves of pleasure wracked through him.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, just the sound of your ragged breaths mixing together. Then, slowly, Jake shifted, carefully pulling out of you with a soft, "Fuck, that was..." He trailed off, still catching his breath.

He rolled onto his side, tugging you with him, pressing a lazy, satisfied kiss to your temple. His lips curved into a smirk as he leaned over, stealing a slow kiss from Jay before turning back to you, brushing his knuckles against your flushed cheek.

"Tired?" Jay murmured, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. You managed a small hum in response, body sinking into the mattress, completely drained.

Normally, the three of you could go for hours, pushing past exhaustion until you were nothing but a boneless, overstimulated mess. But this time, it felt different. Deeper. More intense.

A warm hand smoothed down your spine. You didn't know whose it was—Jay or Jake—but it didn't matter. The heat of their bodies surrounded you, and within seconds, you slipped into unconsciousness.

Jake drifted off almost instantly, his breath evening out as he buried his face against your shoulder, one arm draped lazily over your waist. His soft snores filled the quiet room, his grip on you instinctive even in sleep.

Jay propped up on one elbow, let out a quiet exhale, glancing between the two of you. For a moment longer, he just watched the rise and fall of your chest, the way Jake's fingers twitched in his sleep, and the peaceful expression on your face. Then, with a sigh, he reached over, pulling the blanket over the both of you before turning onto his back.

You woke up suddenly, an odd sense of emptiness settling in your chest, and you don't even know why. The bed felt lighter, and the steady warmth that should have been there was missing.

Jake's loud, unbothered snores vibrated against your neck, his arm still draped lazily around your waist. You groaned softly, shifting carefully to pry yourself from his grip. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, but didn't wake as you finally slipped free.

Sitting up, you glanced around the dark room. Jay wasn't there.

Frowning, you grabbed one of Jake's oversized shirts from the floor and pulled it over your head, the hem falling mid-thigh. The air was cooler outside the warmth of the blankets as you quietly padded out of the room.

Descending the stairs, you caught the faint flicker of light coming from the living room. The low hum of a guitar solo played softly in the background, the screen illuminating Jay's face as he lounged on the couch, a half-empty beer bottle resting against his thigh.

"Why aren't you in bed?" you murmured, your voice thick with sleep. God, you sounded so clingy. But you couldn't help it. The bed felt too empty without him.

Jay's gaze flickered to you as he took another slow sip of his beer before replying, "Trying to make myself sleep."

You hummed in response, rubbing your eyes as you shuffled closer, the oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder. Without hesitation, you sank onto the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you.

"What can I do to help?" you asked softly, eyes still heavy.

"Just gonna finish this," Jay replied, his eyes fixed on the TV in front of him. You let out a quiet yawn, your foot tapping idly against the floor as you waited.

"Go back upstairs," Jay murmured, still not looking at you. "I'll be up soon."

You shook your head, stubborn even in your drowsiness. Instead of leaving, you shifted closer, leaning against him, resting your head against his shoulder. He stiffened slightly, his whole body going still as he felt your breath warm against his neck.

"Why are you so awkward?" you mumbled, "we have sex, like, all the time, and there's still this... barrier."

Jay didn't answer. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out—words you would never dare say if you were fully awake.

"Do you hate me?"

You weren't even sure why you said it. Maybe it was the way he always seemed just a little more distant than Jake. Maybe it was the fact that, even after all this time, you still couldn't quite read him the way you wanted to.

Jay finally let out a slow breath, placing his beer down on the table. Then, he turned his head slightly, just enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head.

"You're an idiot," he muttered. But his hand found yours, fingers lacing together with yours, squeezing softly. "How could I ever hate you?"

"Dunno," you mumbled, melting into the his touch. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you just a little closer. Even through your drowsiness, you felt that familiar tingling sensation spreading through your chest.

Jay exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch. "I'm just... feeling guilty."

Your brows furrowed slightly, your cheek still pressed against his shoulder. "About what?"

He hesitated, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I feel like I never really got the chance to properly apologize," he admitted. "For how I treated you in the beginning... and for your throat."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "My throat is fine," you murmured, nuzzling even closer.

Jay scoffed softly, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. "Still... sorry," he muttered.

You hummed in response, barely awake now, the warmth of his body lulling you further into relaxation. A comfortable silence settled between you before you mumbled, "Am not gonna take Jake away from you, y'know."

Jay stiffened slightly. "You're still thinking I'm jealous of you?"

You smiled, shifting against him. "Maybe? Either way, I like you both around me."

His grip on your hand loosened, and when you peeked up at him, his expression were hesitant, like he wasn't sure how to respond. But then, his lips quirked up, and he patted your head. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," you mumbled sleepily. "And I like it when you're rough... Be like that always, please."

Jay exhaled sharply, eyes darkening just a fraction. You let out a louder yawn, completely unaware of how your words were affecting him. "And I miss having your cock in my mouth."

Jay groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. "You really have no filter when you're sleepy, do you?"

You giggled against his chest. "Nope."

He let out a slow, deep breath, rubbing a hand over his face. "Go to sleep before you say something that makes me do something stupid."

"Wouldn't mind that either..." You hummed again, but instead of settling down, you shifted, pressing your face into his lap, your lips grazing over the outline of his hardening cock.

Jay sucked in a sharp breath. "You're not even listening to me, are you?"

"Mm-mm," you hummed playfully, tugging at the waistband of his shorts.

His cock was already half-hard, twitching slightly as you pressed a soft, teasing kiss to the tip over the fabric.

Jay sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on your hair tightening, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail just slightly as he felt your warm mouth envelop the head of his cock. "Careful," he warned.

You hummed, the vibration making him groan low in his throat. Despite your sleepiness, your tongue flicked over his tip, lapping at the precum that had gathered there before slowly taking more of him into your mouth.

"Shit," he exhaled, his free hand gripping the couch cushion beside him. You were still half-asleep, barely aware of how needy and pliant you were being, and that made it so much worse for him.

Jay tugged at your hair gently, forcing you to look up at him. Your half-lidded eyes were glassy with sleep, your lips already glistening with spit. He cursed under his breath, brushing his thumb along your cheek.

"You're really something else, you know that?" he muttered. You only blinked up at him, Jay let out a slow breath, he guided your mouth back down, pushing his hips forward just enough for you to take him deeper.

"Since you miss it so much," he murmured, his thumb brushing against the corner of your lips, "I'll make sure you don't forget how full your mouth can get."

He moved your head with his hand, setting the pace for you. His hips rocked forward in slow, shallow thrusts, careful not to push too deep. But you whined softly, taking control, swallowing more of him down.

Jay cursed, his abs tensing as he tried to hold back. The blowjob was sloppy—messy, lazy. You weren't focused, lost somewhere between sleep and need, your hands barely gripping his thighs for support. So he did it for you, controlling the movement, his fingers guiding your head as his cock disappeared between your lips over and over again.

His breathing grew heavier, his stomach clenching. "I'll be finishing soon," he whispered.

"Jay?"

Jay's head snapped up.

Jake stood at the staircase, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his hair messy from sleep, rubbing at his eyes as he yawned. His expression was still half-asleep, but he was clearly taking in the sight of you between Jay's legs.

Jay exhaled through his nose. "God, both of you are so needy."

Jake dropped onto the couch beside him, slumping slightly. He looked down at you, his fingers brushing through the strands of your hair that is falling. On a normal night, Jake would be on your back, pressing into you, fucking you together. But tonight was different. You were all just barely holding onto consciousness.

Jay turned his head as Jake leaned in, lips brushing over the curve of his jaw, then trailing down his neck. Jay's hand slid over Jake's waist, pulling him in as their mouths met in an unhurried kiss.

Jake hummed against him, fingers tracing lazy circles over Jay's chest, flicking over his nipple. Jay let out a breathy chuckle. "You're barely awake."

Jake smiled sleepily, nuzzling against Jay's neck. "And yet I still found you guys." He glanced down at you. "C'mon, babe, let him finish so we can all go back to bed."

You hummed softly in response, your mouth still wrapped around Jay, tongue swirling lazily over his length.

Your pace was slow, but it didn't matter, Jay was already on edge, his hips twitching as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth fully. He could feel Jake beside him, the way his fingers flicker his nipples.

Jake's other hand moved lower, brushing over your shoulder before slipping beneath Jay's shirt, his palm pressing flat against his stomach.

Jay's breath hitched. "Shit," he muttered. He could barely focus anymore, the wet heat of your mouth, and the teasing touch of Jake's hands. It was too much all at once.

Jay pushed your head down further, his cock hitting the back of your throat as he came, his body tensing beneath Jake's touch. He held you there for a moment, his breath coming out in harsh, uneven pants before finally releasing his grip, letting you pull back.

You swallowed, licking your lips sleepily as you looked up at him.

"Good?" you murmured. "Can we sleep now?"

Jay let out a breathless chuckle, still caught in the aftershocks of his orgasm. His hand found your hair, stroking it in slowly.

"Yeah," he muttered, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Come on, let's go."

Jake yawned beside you, stretching his arms over his head before reaching for you, guiding you up onto your shaky legs. The three of you stumbled up the stairs, still half-asleep, and Jay's hands instinctively settled on your lower backs, guiding you forward.

Once you reached the bed, you collapsed onto the mattress without a second thought. Jay lay on his back, his chest beneath your cheek, while Jake curled up behind you, one arm lazily draped over your waist.

As your eyelids fluttered shut, one last thought flickered through your hazy mind.

This felt nice. Too nice.

And God forbid, you were starting to need it.

If your 18-year-old self could see you now, she'd probably laugh in your face. She'd roll her eyes, scoff, and tell you to get a grip, that liking two guys at the same time wasn't a big deal, that you were being dramatic. Maybe she'd even tell you to kill yourself for overthinking it. Because back then, emotions were easy to dismiss. Love wasn't something you spent time analyzing; it was either there, or it wasn't.

Now you were 22, caught in something you didn't even have a name for. A situationship? Friends with benefits? Whatever it was, it consumed you.

The longer you were with them, the more you realized how easily you had settled into this dynamic. You had become comfortable—too comfortable. The way you sought them out, the way you melted under their touches, the way you craved them when they weren't around. It wasn't just physical neediness anymore. You liked them. Both of them. Romantically.

But you told yourself to just go with the flow.

People fell in love with their friends all the time, didn't they? And most of them survived it.

Besides, you were lucky. The two people you liked not only wanted you around, but they treated you well. They welcomed you into their arms without hesitation. And on top of that, the three of you had the best sex imaginable. It felt like an advantage.

And it was enough.

"What shade do I get?" You asked, your arms wrapped around Jake's as you stood in front of the display of matte lipsticks. Your fingers skimmed over the rows of colors, indecisive.

Jake tilted his head, studying them before picking one up and swiping it across his wrist.

"Are you sure you want this brand?" he asked, rubbing the spot with his thumb. "It feels kinda sticky."

"Because it's a super stay," you explained. "I tried it once when I was sucking you off, and it didn't even smudge."

Jake's eyes lit up instantly, his mouth parting slightly before he turned back to the display.

"Really?" He grabbed a few more shades without hesitation, tossing them into your basket. "I think you should get all of these."

You laughed, watching as Jake eagerly tossed more lipsticks into your basket. "You just want an excuse to see me test them out, don't you?"

Jake smirked, unbothered by how obvious he was. "Of course. I wanna know which one looks the best when you're on your knees."

Heat crawled up your neck, and you playfully smacked his arm. "Pervert."

"And yet you love it," he teased, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

Before you could retort, another voice joined in. "What are you two up to now?"

You turned to see Jay approaching, a cup of iced coffee in hand. He arched a brow at the sight of the basket full of lipsticks before looking at you expectantly.

"She's getting new lipstick," Jake answered for you, grinning. "Ones that don't smudge, even when she's—"

You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence. "Shut up!" you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

Jay's eyes flickered with amusement, sipping his coffee slowly. "I see. So, should I assume you're going to be testing them out on us later?"

You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. "I hate both of you."

It was enough, really.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at the elevator mirror, taking in the reflection of the three of you. Jay stood in the middle, arms weighed down with shopping bags that you and Jake had gleefully filled. Jake leaned against the mirrored wall with a lazy grin, one hand in his pocket, the other draped over your shoulder.

It felt really nice, having them both around.

"D-Don't ruin my hair, please!" you moaned. "I need to attend some birthday party—ahh!"

Your dress was bunched up around your waist, panties tugged to the side, leaving you open and exposed as Jay thrust into you from behind.

"You should've thought about that before teasing me all day," Jay growled.

"I knew getting ready here was a bad idea," you whimpered, fingers scrambling against the bathroom sink for support. Your reflection in the mirror was a mess, flushed skin, glazed eyes, lips parted as moans spilled out despite your best efforts to stay quiet. And to make things worse, Jake was right there, watching.

His shorts were already pulled down just enough, one hand lazily stroking himself as he leaned against the counter. He looked amused, completely unbothered by the fact that Jay was fucking you senseless only a few feet away.

Jay caught his gaze and smirked. "Jake. Shut her up."

Jake moved immediately, stepping in front of you, palming your jaw before tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"You're gonna ruin my makeu—mmph!"

Your protest was cut short as Jake pressed his cock past your lips, groaning as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him. He didn't waste time, thrusting shallowly, forcing you to take him deeper.

"Don't talk when your mouth is full." Jake chuckled, brushing stray strands of hair from your face.

Jay adjusted his grip on your hips, making sure you were positioned just right between them before snapping his hips forward, hitting deeper. You moaned helplessly around Jake's cock, eyes rolling back.

In the end, you were late to the party.

"What the fuck? The call time was 7:00, and it's already 8:30!" Sunoo huffed, his sharp eyes narrowing as he grabbed your face, tilting it side to side. "And your mascara is a disaster. Were you crying or just getting absolutely wrecked?"

You blinked at him innocently while he pulled out a makeup wipe, trying to salvage the mess.

"Traffic," you exhaled, barely suppressing a smirk.

Sunoo rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck that way. "Yeah, traffic on Jay's and Jake's dicks, maybe."

You ignore him, instead you spotted Sunghoon in the crowd and immediately beelined toward him, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Happy birthday!" you chirped, grinning.

With finals finally over, the weight of the semester lifted from your shoulders. You and Sunoo jumped up and down in pure excitement, squealing like kids on Christmas morning as you rattled off ideas for how to spend your break.

"I have enough savings to travel abroad! You said you wanted to go to Spain, right?" you gushed, practically bouncing on your feet.

Sunoo gasped dramatically, gripping your shoulders. "Are we actually doing this?! Oh my God, imagine us drinking sangria in Barcelona, living our best lives!"

The two of you shrieked in unison, drawing a few odd glances from passing students, but neither of you cared. The rush of post-finals freedom was intoxicating.

"Maybe I should ask Jay and Jake if they want to come," you mused, pulling out your phone.

Sunoo's jaw dropped. "What?! I mean, Jake is fun to be around, but I don't want to hear any of your sex noises while we're sightseeing!"

You scoffed, shoving his shoulder. "We wouldn't do that with you around! I have self-respect, you know!"

Sunoo gave you a deadpan stare. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that." You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as he pulled out his phone. "Anyway, where are they? Their exams finished before ours, and I literally texted in the group chat that we're getting samgyup."

He started typing furiously, muttering under his breath. Then, suddenly, he froze. "Oh?" Sunoo blinked at his screen. "Wait. It's their anniversary today?"

Your brows furrowed. "What?" You peeked over his shoulder at his phone.

There, on his feed, was a post from a user named Ni-ki, someone Sunoo was mutuals with. The caption read: Happy four years to my parents <3

Your stomach twisted. A cold sensation washed over you, like someone had dumped ice water over your head.

Four years. Four years of them. Of course, before you, before any of this—there was just the two of them. It was so obvious, wasn't it? Relationships were meant for two people.

You swallowed down the sudden lump in your throat and forced a smile, pretending like it didn't bother you. "Let's just go eat samgyup, just the two of us," you told Sunoo, keeping your tone light. "They're probably celebrating."

Sunoo studied your face, eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn't press. He simply nodded. "Sure."

The rest of the evening, you tried. You tried to be present while grilling meat, while sipping soju, while joking with Sunoo. You tried to enjoy the post-exam freedom, to let yourself have fun while shopping.

But every few minutes, your fingers would twitch toward your phone. You'd glance at the screen, waiting for a message. A text. Something.

Nothing. Your chest ached, you exhaled sharply, shoving your phone into your pocket as you turned back to the skincare aisle in front of you. Focus.

It was normal. They were a couple. They needed their own time, their own space. You were just a third person. A fun little addition. Someone to spice things up in bed.

It was enough. Wasn't it?

The air was crisp when you arrived at Jay's apartment, adjusting your jacket as you stood outside the door. When it finally swung open, Jake was there, a warm grin on his face.

"Hey, baby. Cold out?" he teased, pulling you inside before you could answer. His arms wrapped around you immediately. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aroma of whatever Jay was cooking in the kitchen.

"What's your plan for Christmas?" he asked, voice light as he led you inside.

You shrugged, barely thinking about it. "Not sure yet."

Jay glanced up from the kitchen, raising a brow. "No family trip this year?"

"Probably not. I might just...stay around here."

Jake's grin widened. "Good. Then you can spend it with us."

You let them pull you in. You cooked together, the three of you moving seamlessly in the kitchen. Jake stole bites of the food while Jay smacked his hand away, muttering curses under his breath. You laughed, pressing into both of them, soaking in the easy comfort of their presence.

Later, a movie played in the background while the three of you curled up together on the couch. Jake was the first to initiate the making out, his lips finding yours, his hands skimming your waist. Normally, you'd melt into him.

But tonight... Something felt off. You weren't in the mood. You excused yourself quickly, heading to the bathroom, pressing a hand against your abdomen as you shut the door behind you.

Breathe. A dull pain throbbed low in your stomach, the kind that made your body feel sluggish. Right, that explained it. You were on your period.

When you stepped back into the living room, both of them looked up.

"Everything okay?" Jake asked, brow furrowing slightly.

You nodded, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "I'm just...on my period."

Jay stood immediately, already reaching for his wallet. "Do you need pads? Tampons?"

You blinked. "Uh...yeah. Pads, please."

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and left. You stared at the door even after he was gone. Why does he have to be so fucking perfect?

There was no sex that night. Instead, the three of you played board games. Jay made you a hot chocolate, murmuring that it might help with the cramps. Jake pulled you into his lap during the game, rubbing your back absentmindedly.

It should've felt nice. And it did. But at dinner, as Jay and Jake stood in the kitchen, bickering over a recipe, laughter spilling between them, you watched them, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

You smiled, ignoring the dull ache in your chest.

Because they were perfect together.

Because they had always been perfect together.

And yet, for some reason, you felt like you were ruining things between them. A third presence in something that had already been whole. You weren't meant to be here—not really.

Why did it hurt?

You scoffed at yourself, shaking your head. It's the period hormones, you reasoned. That's all. That's why your emotions were all over the place. That's why everything stung more than it should.

Just go with the flow.

You'd been telling yourself that for months. That it was enough. But then... why were you acting like this?

The three of you were outside now, the winter air biting at your cheeks as Jake built a snowman. His breath puffed out in small clouds as he packed snow together, his energy as endless as ever.

"We should enroll together for the next semester! Maybe we can be classmates!" Jake chirped, glancing up at you with a grin.

You let out a soft laugh, exhaling into the cold. "Yeah, maybe." But your voice lacked its usual excitement.

Jay stepped beside him, pulling Jake's scarf up higher, adjusting his gloves with careful hands. Jake giggled, shaking his head playfully to mess up Jay's hair in return.

Jay leaned in, kissing him softly. You looked away immediately, biting your lip. Scolded yourself for feeling that ache again.

It wasn't jealousy. It wasn't. But why did your chest feel so fucking tight?

You let out a slow breath, forcing a smile as Jake turned back to his snowman. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you shifted on your feet, rubbing your gloved hands together for warmth.

Just go with the flow.

You're overthinking again. But even as you tried to swallow down the tightness in your chest, it remained lingering.

"Hey."

You blinked, snapping back to reality when Jay called for you. He had stepped away from Jake, his dark eyes searching yours.

"Yeah?" You hoped your voice sounded normal.

Jay studied you for a second longer before shaking his head slightly. "You okay?"

"Of course," you answered too quickly, but he didn't look convinced.

Your stomach twisted, and for a brief second, you wondered if you should just say it. Say what had been weighing on you. But what would even be the point? They are happy.

"You just look... off."

You laughed, waving him off. "I have cramps. That's all." That part wasn't a lie.

"Want me to buy you something for it?"

Your heart clenched, even though it was a simple, kind offer. You shook your head. "No, I'll be fine."

Jay's stare lingered for a second longer, like he didn't fully believe you, but he didn't push. Instead, he reached out, ruffling your hair before walking back toward Jake, who was still messing with the snowman's face.

The two of them laughed over something, their voices mixing into the winter air. You crossed your arms over your chest, forcing your gaze to the sky. You shouldn't feel like this.

You shouldn't feel like the outsider.

The more you lingered in these feelings, the more salty you became. The bitterness wasn't so easy to swallow anymore.

It crept into the way you spoke, the way you moved around them, the way your smile felt just a little too forced when Jake clung to Jay like he was his whole world.

And maybe he was. Maybe they were each other's whole world, and you were just a guest in it.

By day three of Christmas break, they asked you to hang out again. And honestly, why?

Your period meant no sex, no fun. So why did they still want you here?

That was what annoyed you the most. Because now, without sex to distract you, you were seeing them for what they really were. A couple. The way they moved around each other, the way their bodies fit so effortlessly together it wasn't just about lust. It was real. And it was in front of your own fucking eyes.

Jake, as always, was in Jay's lap.

The movie played, but you weren't really paying attention. Instead, all you could focus on was Jake's soft giggles, the absentminded way Jay's fingers skimmed over his arm.

They were whispering, laughing, caught up in their own world.

"I can't hear the movie." Your voice was tight, teeth clenched so hard your jaw ached.

They both stilled, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Sorry," Jake mumbled, shrinking back slightly. A moment later, he moved toward you, arms reaching to pull you into their space, like he always did, but you leaned away.

The rejection was small, but it might as well have been a gunshot. Jake's hands hesitated mid-air before he let them drop.

"Forget it," you sighed, standing up. "I'm going to bed."

"You're sleeping over?" Jake asked, confused.

"Is that a problem?" Your voice came out sharper than intended, and Jake immediately shut his mouth, exchanging a glance with Jay.

You didn't wait for a response. Instead, you made your way to Jay's room, shutting the door behind you a little harder than necessary.

"I think it's the period," Jake mumbled, gaze fixed on the staircase. "I've never been with a girl before, but the guys on the soccer team always complain about their girlfriends getting moody when they're on it."

Jay didn't answer. Instead, he leaned back against the couch, staring at the flickering images on the screen, lips pressed in a thin line, because he knew exactly what it was.

And if he was right, things were only going to get more complicated.

You pretended to be asleep when you felt the bed shift.

Jake's arms carefully adjusted around you, pulling you closer as he sighed against your hair. On the other side, Jay moved in, his arm draping over your waist, fitting seamlessly between you and Jake.

You stayed still, breathing evenly, willing your body to relax even though your mind was wide awake.

But you couldn't sleep, the weight of their arms was suffocating.

By the time their breathing evened out, soft snores filling the space, you slowly peeled yourself away. Jake stirred slightly, but didn't wake. Neither did Jay. Quietly, you reached for your bag, slipping into your winter coat and boots.

And then, without looking back, you walked out.

The cold bit at your skin the second you stepped outside. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional flicker of headlights in the distance. The only place open at this hour was a small K-Mart, its neon sign buzzing weakly against the night sky.

You stepped inside, the warm air hitting your face as you walked straight to the ramen aisle. Jin ramen, tteokbokki, enoki rolls—your hands moved on autopilot, gathering ingredients.

But when you stopped, staring blankly at the boiling water in the store's self-service kitchen, you felt it again.

That unbearable weight in your chest. Your lips quivered. Not from the cold, but from the pressure threatening to spill over. Why did it have to be like this?

You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing hard. The sound of the store's entrance sliding open barely registered in your mind. Footsteps shuffled against the linoleum floor, followed by the sound of complaining.

"Why did the only open K-Mart have to be this far? God, I'm freezing—grr. Fuck your ramen addiction, really."

A familiar voice. Your head snapped up, meeting her gaze.

Heeseung's girlfriend blinked at you, a polite smile forming on her lips until she actually saw your face.

And then, before you could stop it—before you could pretend—your tears fell.

Her face immediately softened, she just pulled you into her arms, tucking your head against her chest. Her hands rubbed slow, comforting circles against your back, her body shielding you from the curious eyes of the late-night shoppers.

"Shit, you're really crying," she muttered, not unkindly.

You let out a shaky breath, gripping the fabric of her coat. Heeseung appeared beside the two of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight. He exchanged a glance with his girlfriend, but to his credit, he didn't say anything.

Instead, he reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pack of tissues, and wordlessly held it out to you.

The three of you sat in silence, eating your ramen. Heeseung and his girlfriend didn't ask why you had been crying, didn't pry or push for an explanation. Instead, Heeseung kept the conversation light, cracking goofy jokes that forced small chuckles out of you, helping ease the tightness in your chest.

After finishing your meal, they drove you back to your dorm. As you stepped out of the car, Heeseung waved lazily, and his girlfriend leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek, smirking as she teased, "If you ever need a distraction, I'd be happy to be between your legs any day."

You managed a laugh, shaking your head as you muttered, "I'll keep that in mind."

But as soon as you closed the door behind you, the ache in your chest returned.

Avoidance was the only thing you could do now.

Sunoo sat cross-legged on your bed, finalizing the ticket purchase for Spain. You had only brought up the idea of a trip yesterday, and now he had a flight booked for tomorrow morning, jokingly humming some song about being a backburner.

Of course, you felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, sitting beside him. "I know I've been all over the place."

Sunoo barely looked up from his phone. "Yeah, yeah, you always apologize," he sighed dramatically. Then, he shot you a pointed look. "But this time, you better focus on me, okay?"

Your phone buzzed on the bed beside you. A string of messages from Jay and Jake.

— Where did you go last night? — Why didn't you wake us up? — Are you okay? — Talk to us.

You hesitated before typing a short reply: Sorry for being weird. I was just in a bad mood. I'll be gone for a while, going on a trip with Sunoo.

You didn't wait for their response before silencing your notifications.

Spain was beautiful. Sunoo dragged you through every tourist spot, every café, every club he could find. You drank, laughed, danced until your feet hurt, flirted with strangers just to feel something different. But no matter how much fun you had, no matter how many distractions Sunoo shoved in front of you, the ache never really went away.

Sometimes, in the middle of a conversation, you would catch yourself zoning out, your mind slipping back to them. Wondering if they missed you.

By the time you returned home, enrollment for the second semester had already begun. Sunoo still had no clue about your tangled-up feelings, and you had done your best to keep it that way. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake had stopped flooding your messages, the once-active group chat now reduced to occasional TikTok links exchanged between Sunoo and Jake.

"We should try to get into the same classes again," Sunoo chirped, pulling you out of your thoughts as you both walked toward campus. "I swear to God, if you abandon me for someone else again, I'm—"

He cut himself off when you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

Because just a few feet away, by the enrollment booths, stood Jay and Jake.

Jake's eyes lit up the moment he saw you, his signature wide grin stretching across his face. Before you could react, he was already pulling you into a tight hug, his familiar scent of clean laundry and something subtly musky wrapped around you.

"You're back!" he chirped excitedly, rocking you slightly in his embrace.

You stiffened. Your hands hovered awkwardly over his back, unsure whether to push him away or let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch.

Sunoo, however, had no such hesitation. With an exaggerated huff, he reached forward and pinched Jake's waist.

"Hey! You're trying to steal my girl again!" Sunoo scolded.

Jake only laughed, sticking his tongue out playfully as he tightened his hold on you. "Not stealing, just borrowing." He turned his head, his lips brushing close to your ear. "You ignored us for so long. You didn't even bring us back a souvenir."

"Sorry," you mumbled, forcing a small smile. "It was... a last-minute trip."

Jake pulled back slightly, still holding onto your wrists, his eyes scanning your face. Jay, on the other hand, remained silent. Unlike Jake, he didn't rush forward to greet you. He stood a step behind, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He was observing you.

Trying to break the tension, you shifted your attention back to Jake, forcing yourself to engage in conversation. "So, uh... how was break for you guys?"

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but Jay beat him to it.

"You tell us," Jay said. "You're the one who disappeared."

"I—I just needed some space," you said quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Things were just... a lot."

"A lot," Jay repeated slowly, tilting his head. His gaze flickered over you, assessing, before settling back on your face. "And now?"

"Now?" you echoed, caught off guard.

"Are you still needing space?"

There was an underlying challenge in his words. Like he was daring you to say yes. You hesitated, you should say yes. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. You had spent the entire trip convincing yourself that distance was what you needed.

But standing here, with Jake still holding onto you and Jay pinning you down with his gaze, you realized, you didn't actually want space. You just wanted them, but you couldn't say that.

So instead, you forced a weak chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean... I'm here now, aren't I?"

Jake beamed, satisfied with your answer. "That means we're celebrating! Let's go out tonight."

Sunoo let out an exaggerated shriek, eyes widening in disbelief. "Excuse me?!" He placed a hand over his chest, looking personally offended by the sudden plan.

Jake only laughed, completely unfazed. "Of course you’re coming!" He slung an arm around Sunoo’s shoulders, giving him a playful shake.

Sunoo scoffed dramatically, swatting at his arm. "You act like I want to go. But fine, whatever." He shot you a sideways glance, eyes sharp, knowing. "If she wants to go, we’ll go."

And so, you went. The four of you ended up at a new restaurant, one that Jake had been eager to try. But the moment you sat down, regret settled in your bones.

You tried to act normal, laughing when Jake cracked a joke, nodding along when Jay spoke, but you couldn’t hold it together. Your fingers fidgeted endlessly with the edge of your sleeve, your mind drifting too far. You weren’t present. Not really.

Sunoo noticed halfway through dinner, he leaned in slightly. "Maybe we should go."

You didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. Let’s go."

And now, you were crying again.

In the car. On the drive home. Wherever. It didn’t even matter anymore. Sunoo sighed, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you in a careful hold. "Hey, hey, it’s okay," he murmured, his palm rubbing slow circles against your back, trying to soothe you. But there was an edge of panic in his voice because he didn’t know. He didn’t know why you were crying.

And you couldn’t tell him, because admitting it would make it real.

You could only remember what he had told you before. "Don’t lose yourself."

But you had, you had lost yourself the moment you started falling for them.

It was sad. And stupid. And kind of funny in a cruel way. Funny how easily you fell. Funny how, in the beginning, you kept telling yourself that this was enough. But it wasn’t.

And now, you regretted everything, because it only made your feelings stronger.

You thought you could handle it. You thought you could play it cool, stay casual. But you couldn’t. You didn’t. You were pathetic—because you let yourself believe you could be this comfortable, that you could exist between them without falling apart.

But you weren’t comfortable. You weren’t okay.

The only space they made for you was in their bed, not in their love.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #jay x reader #jake x reader #jay smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jay x jake

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