#my lil edge lady

[drzibs]

the horse girl in me wants so badly to draw eom’s trusty steeds….. i can see buttercup and witchstomper so clearly in my head

[collegeoflore]

i’m holding xarrai in my hands like a baby bird. my weird angry little court jester. little fool who thirsts for blood and revenge. extremely normal little clown who desires only retribution.

[dandyshucks]

eyes !!

i only have a few neon colours and this brown and a tan colour for embroidery thread (they were a thrift store find before it shut down when i first got started with embroidery :] havent bought any more thread yet ,,,) so I decided to go the felt route for the eye bases and then figured I might as well use the brown thread i have !

still trying to decide whether to use craft glue to attach them to the face or if i should attempt to sew them on 🤔

[venomnyx]

HOUSE IN NEBRASKA — Logan "Worst Wolverine" Howlett x Mutant!Reader AO3 version Spotify Playlist

WORD COUNT — 15.4k SUMMARY — Reader gets roped into saving the timeline with ex-best friend Deadpool, coming face-to-face with a variant of Logan that uproots memories she'd long suppressed, only to find that this version of him lost her in his universe, too. TAGS/WARNINGS — she/her pronouns (minimal usage), female anatomy, flashbacks in italics, angst, enemies to lovers, alcoholism, smoking, arguments, canon typical violence, cursing/bad language, Deadpool breaks the fourth wall like twice, canon behaviour worst wolverine, religious trauma, honda odyssey scene self-insert, eventual smut, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, dirty nasty talk (logan has a filthy mouth), mentions of cocaine literally once. smut is marked after last divider if you want to skip plot but i'll kiss you if you don't!

You’re smoking a cigarette on your porch when the snowfall happens. It would be normal, you think, if it weren’t for the fact that it’s dead in the middle of July. A group of nanas, elbow-deep in the community garden soil, glance up to the sky and begin muttering prayers amongst themselves.

You’ve lived in this safe house for a while now, up in the mid-west of the Appalachian mountains, surrounded by thickets of pine and opposite a bubbling creek. You grew up somewhere near here and the locals welcomed you back with open arms and a plateful of hot food when the humans started the culling— when the X-men fell apart.

It has plenty of benefits. The smell of lavender, for one, and your cat, Kevin, loves chasing the pigeons, even if he’s not the most successful hunter. The locally sourced produce means you can avoid the poisoned food they’re distributing in supermarkets.

But, most importantly, the humans can’t find you out here. You’re lucky the gossip of your… genetics, so to speak, doesn’t leave Sunday morning church.

Things have been different, lately. The trees are shedding down to dust, people are disappearing at an exponential rate, and there was a time when you’d be on the front lines helping them. You’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the call — a learned habit — but it’s never coming. Charles is dead. Logan is dead. The X-men are dead.

The snow is warm when it lands on your skin. It feels like rot, and your solitude suddenly feels lonelier and more daunting than ever.

You reach to take a sip of your steaming coffee when you hear movement. A zipping strobe light crosses your vision and you flinch against the intrusion, but you’re not afraid. You’ve surely survived worse.

Stryker worse.

A comical and confused looking figure pops out from an orange portal, scratching the crown of his head over the red and black mask on his face. You sip your coffee as you observe him nonchalantly.

He notices you and approaches with a dainty point of his finger.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am.”

“Well, well well,” you suck on your cigarette with a frown. “Look what the cat dragged in. Got a new suit, Red?”

“What, aren’t you happy to see lil’ old me?”

“You’re on my property,” you say matter-of-factually. You had a shotgun stowed away inside for emergencies, but frankly, you never had to use it. You were enough of a weapon yourself. Consider it insurance, if the corn-syrup they’re poisoning ever finally makes it way to you.

You glance sidelong at the old ladies in their aprons, clutching one another with stern gazes in your direction. The deal was that you didn’t bring trouble their way — but it looks like trouble found you. You narrow your eyes and silently hope that this doesn’t turn messy, as it so usually does where he’s concerned.

He sighs heavily and continues approaching regardless. You analyse his stature and take notes of the weapons on his holsters and back. You reckon you could take him if it came down to it, but he didn’t seem threatening.

You and Wade used to be friends, but after isolating yourself from grief, you don’t necessarily consider yourselves to have a close relationship. More often than not he brought trouble; hence your defensive response.

“Listen, ants in your pants, I’ve done this about a hundred times,” he huffs and places a hand on his hip, waving the device around in his hand. You take another drag of your cigarette and perk your brows before rising to your feet.

“I’ve had my spleen shattered by the Hulk, about eighty stab wounds…”

He rambles on about his collection of injuries and you tilt your head with amusement. Must be another one of his famous mental breakdowns. This might be entertaining, at the very least.

“…You’ve even killed me a few times in different universes!” He claps his hands together. “And frankly, I was just going to let you die here. You’re not even canon, so you won’t be missed, but you appear to be of use to me. So I need you to come with me. Now. Please.”

What on Earth was he talking about? What on Earth was he ever talking about?

You bark a laugh. “I ain’t going anywhere with you, Red and Black.”

“Will it change your mind if I add a cherry on top?” He asks with a dry laugh before nodding enthusiastically. Manically. “You’re coming. Kevin’s life depends on it.”

“What are you talkin’ about? Are you threatenin’ my cat? That’s a new low, Wade.”

“Is it? Is it really? I am certain that I can go unfathomably lower.”

You roll your eyes, half-way through turning your back on him.

“You see this?” He holds out a gloved hand and catches some snowflakes. He rubs them between his fingers and they spark and fizzle before dusting away. “That’s not snow. That’s time death. Our universe is dying, womp womp. Stay here, sure! By all means, but—”

Your cat launches out of the door behind you, chirping and meowing to himself before promptly dashing through the portal and disappearing into the blurry void on the other side.

“Well. Looks like he made his choice.”

He sighs and lets you process. You take the final swig of your coffee and huff a breath.

“You literally have nothing left to lose. Trust me. I know. I’ve seen all kinds of you and, believe me when I say this, even though I love and cherish this version of you, this—” he points two fingers at you and gestures towards you judgmentally. “— isn’t the best look on you, honey.”

You want to dismiss him. You want to turn him away, to tell him to get lost. Grief swallowed your heroism whole, turning it into a barren wasteland of bitter indifference. You used to be bright, full of light, love, and hope.

Fucking hope. It’s the reason Logan left you to help Charles in the first place. You just wanted to settle down and disappear, to live a normal life. You lost an intrinsic part of your being when he died; you remember feeling it before you heard the news. Fucking hope.

Hope, hope, hope. Nana Rose chants on about it when she clasps your hands with her wrinkly ones, dragging you to church in spite of your atheism.

“And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts,” she chants, basket of flowers on her hip. “Romans 5:5. You’d do well to do your readin’, tulip.”

You didn’t and don’t ever usually believe a word she says, but you can feel her faith. It’s solid as steel, pouring out of her like blotting light through the gaps in the trees. Undying. And you’ll be damned if you let anything happen to her.

A flicker remains. You imagine what Charles would say to you now, how you’d hang onto his every word and he’d bring out the better of you. You truly do have nothing left to lose, except maybe your cat. Over your dead body.

“Come ooon,” he pokes his fingers together. “Fancy being a hero? One last time?”

You take the final drag before stubbing the cigarette out on your railing. “Alright, Red. I’ll bite.”

“Then suit up.”

Your friendship with Deadpool was a rocky one. There was a time you told him you’d be there for him through everything, and you technically owed him one for saving your life that one time even though your ego insists that, to this day, you could’ve taken the fight. That’s what heightened cellular control of your body is for, right? Accelerated healing? Empathetic abilities? Faster reactions, enhanced strength— you get the point.

Though you didn’t realise that returning the favour meant following him through space, time and alternate dimensions, you were a person who stayed true to their word, and you hated being indebted to someone.

So, here you were, waking up in the middle of a barren wasteland that was seconded as a cocktail soup of abandoned universal relics and heroes ripped from their worlds, accompanying your ex-best friend to restore your timeline.

But, one thing about paying someone back, it doesn’t technically count if they lie to you about the terms and conditions of the agreement. Only a few mere moments after you come to, dazed by the impact and the blaring wobbly heat of the sun, you rise to watch as Deadpool takes six blades of Wolverine to the chest.

You’re still a little dizzy when you stagger to your feet, head throbbing, as you’re trying to process if, yes, that’s exactly what you were witnessing.

“Let’s see you grow your fuckin’ head back!” Wolverine growls.

Deadpool holds his hands up in surrender. “Wait, wait, wait! I can fix it! I can fix it!”

The man in yellow hesitates. “Fix what?”

“Whatever it is that you did, whatever made you so bad—” Wade pants, catching his breath. “Those pricks at the TVA, you heard ‘em. They have the power to end my universe, but they also have the power to change yours. We get back there, and we can fix your world! Together. I promise.”

You stumble from around a pile of debris, clutching your side as a rib pops back into place. Wolverine sniffs the air, face blanching as he snaps to look in your direction.

When you first make eye contact with him, it feels as though you’re resurfacing from water after being on the precipice of drowning. Your heart leaps into your throat, adrenaline boils your veins and your lungs burst with relief of breathing.

“Troubles always gonna find you, baby,” Logan murmurs, kissing his way up from the pulse in your throat as he rocks against you. “But so am I.”

You’ve never loved him more, you think, than when he fucks you slow like this. A snowstorm rages outside the cabin, howling full of glass and needles and rattling the window frames. His skin against yours burns a fire within you, warming you to the bone. He sweeps hair away from your face before capturing your mouth in his, swallowing the sounds of your pants, threading his fingers between yours.

You could stay here forever, you think.

Your fingers shake from the whiplash of the memory. You instinctively reach towards him but you catch yourself. This was the husk of him, not your Logan. The realisation feels akin to ripping open a haphazardly sewn wound right down to the fatty yellow flesh, raw and needling and sore.

He’s broader than you remember. Hair a little darker, wrinkles a little deeper. He smells of alcohol and cigars — that much is familiar. That’s him, flesh and adamantium bone, living, breathing. Alive. The physical shell of him prods alive parts of your inner circuitry that you weren’t aware had fallen asleep, like intrinsic nerves untangling within you.

You can sense that he knows you, too, based on his emotional response. His noise is extremely loud, spilling out of the cracks of whatever wall he thought he’d successfully built up. This version of Logan certainly had a lot of secrets.

“You,” he whisper-growls. It’s almost intangible, leaving him like a breath. He pulls his blades promptly from Deadpool’s chest and kicks him backwards.

You’re starting to understand that faith thing that Nana Rose was knocking on about when he strides towards you, large and tall. You certainly weren’t a believer by any means but you’re sure you’d be the picture of unbridled worship for the way you’d fall to your knees for him.

Your empathetic power lurches for him, seeking him out as you used to — like a flower to the sun — but it physically recoils from the aura that it touches. It was all your Logan but not in a familiar way. It’s tainted, dark, and it tastes like copper and screams.

All colour melts from his face and his body shuffles in a way that indicates discomfort; a dry swallow, tense shoulders and flicking eyes that refuse to meet your gaze. He omits feelings of guilt and shame that linger on the tendrils of your empathetic powers where you connect with him.

You try to zone Wade out, squinting as you attempt to navigate through his cobweb of emotions (seriously, this guy’s aura could do with a cleanup) but it’s like wading through black-tar syrup, feelings negated by years of alcohol-abuse and avoidance. Eventually, you feel something that makes your guts twist and your legs shake: a version of romantic attraction and recognition so carnal and raw that you begin to blush, a warmth that creeps its way up from your belly. A breath escapes you like a punch.

“Well. This feels awkward.” Wade glances between you both and places his hands on his hips. “Why do you both look like you’ve seen a ghost? Do I need to call Egon Splegler and tell him to bring his ghost sucky-sucky vacuum? Oh my god—” He slaps his hands to his face and gasps sharply. “Cross-Universal lovers?”

As inappropriately timed and tone-deaf his one-liners could be, you’d never been more appreciative of an icebreaker. You think you could’ve stood there for an hour, frozen in silence, staring at a reanimated corpse, basking in the noise of his emotional frequency like an addict finally getting another hit.

But then the noise stops, swallowed up like a heaving black hole had split and atomised the tension whole with its unforgiving jaws. He closes himself off from you. Connection severed. You reach out and feel a cold nothingness similar to how, on particularly rough nights, you’d try to reach out to him after his passing. You’d clung onto his plaid shirts until the smell and emotional residue wore off of them.

“You with the mouth? To fix things?”

You nod tightly. You don’t think you can find your voice in front of him.

“Let’s just keep moving. And stay out of my head,” Logan grumbles, crossing you with a cold shoulder and mumbling something incoherent under his breath. When he’s made enough distance, you turn to your old friend with a cold glare.

“Ooh, brr. Anybody else feel a chill?”

“Wade.”

He twists towards you comically slow.

“You. Motherfucker.” You begin approaching him. He backs up slowly and holds his hands up.

“I knew if I told you the plan you wouldn’t have gone along with it!”

“Are you insane? You think multiversally grave-robbing my fucking dead ex-boyfriend is going to save our timelines?!” You yell.

“Technically he’s not dead—”

You push him. “He should be! He- he was— he is!”

“Well, this one isn’t!” He pushes back. “And I’m not sorry for finding a loophole in the plan to fry — not just mine, mind you — but both of our timelines! Did you happen to forget that? No multi-dimensional depressed Logan? Alright then! No more Kevin!”

He’s talking about your cat. Anger flares.

“Don’t you dare bring Kevin into this.”

“You forced my hand!” He yells, mouth moving alien-like behind the mask on his face. “Besides, I’m not doing this for me—”

You blink your eyes closed. You might reach the end of your tether if he said her name one more time. You’ve been in his company for approximately an hour, and he’s already drilled a hole into your brain with his incessant yapping about the “love of his life”.

“Wade, you need to move on. She clearly has.”

“I will not move on from the only people I love in this fucked up dimension. This isn’t just for Vanessa.” He shoves a glossy photograph in your face. “This is for you and blind Al and even that shit-head teenager and her pinkie-pie girlfriend! They deserve their timeline!”

“I literally don’t care about any of those people!”

Even yourself?

“Well, I do! I have people I care about! Aren’t you supposed to be a hero? God, all of you X-men are so depressing. Is it the suits they make you wear? Is that it? Can’t breathe in that thing?” He continues poking at you. “Loosen up a little!”

You straighten your posture and the black leather of your suit crackles. You swat his hands away as he continues poking. “Alright! Cut it out!”

“Think of Nana Rose.” He draws a heart with two fingers. “Little old ladies like her deserve a chance, don’t they?”

And even though humans had done nothing but wage war on your kind for simply existing, you still felt obliged to help them. Besides, the thought of other mutants — kid mutants — dying when you hold the chance to save them in the palm of your hand? You were hardly managing as you were now. You’re not sure you’d be able to live with yourself if you kept going like this.

“Alright, alright!” You huff, heart pounding in your chest. You look over at where Wolverine kicks at rocks in the distance. “Fucking hell, Red. Holy fuck.”

You say it again, only this time you scream it into your hands.

“You should’ve warned me.”

“Are we good?”

“Are we go—” You scoff. You kick his ankle, feel the bones shatter and crunch beneath your foot. He lets out a short, high-pitched yelp. “You deserved that.”

“Motherfuckermotherfucker… oh you’re lucky I feel bad about lying to you or I would’ve twisted your milk bags off for that I swear to God.” He sucks in a breath. “I’ll allow it. Just this once.”

“Mhm,” you murmur, walking forward. “That doesn’t sound like an apology.”

He limps after you, floppy ankle dragging a line in the sandy dirt. “I’ll be dead before you ever get one of those out of me! And too bad I can’t fucking die!”

The difference between this Logan and your Logan is stark, minus the uncanny resemblance. Your Logan was soft and gentle, but this version is sharper and blade-edged, and your fingers bleed when you try to touch him.

Staring at him feels like throwing up a mirror and analysing yourself, a picture of what happens to a person when they make all of the wrong choices. You’re embarrassed, almost. This isn’t a version of you that you ever want him to know, but at least you can say you’re trying.

Him, on the other hand…

“Are we going to keep up the awkward silence?” You snip, awkwardly adjusting the restraints on your wrist.

You’ve been in Logan’s company for all of an hour, and yet accompanying one another through literal time purgatory didn’t seem to irk any feelings of obligation from his end. He’d been cold-shouldering and ignoring you the entire time, even though you kept catching him staring.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he spits, wriggling uncomfortably against a very unconscious Deadpool. “You got us into this mess.”

You frown, small. You can feel hatred pouring out from him, leaving a sickly bile taste in the back of your throat. You’ve lived through enough hate for being a mutant in your lifetime, enough that you’d become accustomed to tuning it out of your radio channel, so to speak, but something about it coming from the man you loved makes it a little harder to swallow.

You’re quiet when you next speak. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

He shoots you an indistinguishable look and grunts to himself. Such a Libra.

“So, what’s the story here?” Johnny asks with a sly grin. He turns to you with a glimmer of mischief in his eye. “You two know each other?”

You cringe. “Sort of. Last I remember, he wasn’t this much of a prick.”

“Oh, trouble in paradise, huh?” His grin grows. “That’s a shame. Not often we get girls like you in the void.”

“Seriously?” You say with a side-eye.

He shrugs, all blue-spandex biceps and charming smile. “No harm in trying.”

Your breath hitches as Cassandra approaches, wide eyes and tilted head aiming for you purposefully. Logan swiftly angles his body so that he’s standing in front of you and she halts as a delighted, implicating smile stretches across her face. Your chest constricts, tendrils of yearning coiling tighter. It appeared to be muscle memory: his instinctual, protective flinch. Just like your Logan used to, despite how capable he knew you were.

“Now, I’ve always wanted a Wolverine.” Her finger moves along the crowd. “Knew I’d get one eventually. But I never even dreamed of having you.”

Cassandra zips behind you and her slender fingers delve into the crevices and valleys of your brain, lips intimately close to your neck and ear. Wolverine snarls territoriality, but he’s unable to move. The urge to reach for him is overwhelming.

“Do you know that there are so few universes where you exist?” She whispers, caressing your deepest memories. “I even asked the TVA about you, in exchange for keeping the peace. I was disheartened when I found out one of you died. But you’re here! Now, I don’t believe in fate, but this almost feels like it was meant to be.”

You flinch when she uncovers a particularly fond memory, one you hadn’t been aware was so prominently in the forefront.

In the back of his truck, a cigar between his teeth, hands sliding under your shirt. In another world, he would’ve taken the time to do this properly, but living in a school didn’t exactly grant two consenting adults any privacy.

“Waited long enough for this.”

He kisses up from your bare foot to the sensitive skin of your inner knee, lips scorching against your skin.

“Logan…”

“Easy,” he murmurs, leaning away for a moment to remove his plaid overshirt, leaving himself in that white vest you could eat him alive in. “Still wanna take my time with you.”

You’re desperate, he can tell— can probably smell it, too, but you’re far too humiliated to ask him if he can.

Logan wasn’t your first by any means, but with the way you were near trembling for him truly felt like you’d be losing all of your innocence in the back seat. You’re shy and quiet, everything he isn’t. You’re infatuated with him — have been since he burst out of the lab in his grey hoodie — and have daydreamed about what it would be like to have him. You certainly didn’t let him know that right away, and with whatever shred of composure remained around his relentless flirting and teasing remarks, you tried to play hard to get.

Until you couldn’t. Because you weren’t. He had you, and with every fibre of your being, you wanted him to.

She pulls her hands from your brain with a shlick sound, rubbing her fingers together as if relishing in the produce of your memories. She grabs a rag from her pocket and smirks knowingly.

“You’re thinking of that at a time like this?” She laughs all witch-like. “Worry not; your secret’s safe with me, naughty girl.”

Wade lowers his voice and leans towards Logan. “She was thinking of me.”

“I can read between the lines, darling,” she potters on. “This isn’t about a sexual fantasy. Deep down, you just want to be wanted. To be loved.”

She steps back and extends her arms. “After all, you’ll never amount to anything in your world. It’s such a shame that your Logan left you so abruptly. Did he break your heart?” She giggles. “Why suppress your powers in his name? For a level-five mutant, you certainly don’t act like one. You can do that, here. Freely!”

Your worn thin tether creaks with exhaustion like a dilapidated bridge under pressure. There isn’t a singular fibre of your being that desires to be stuck here, but the small, angry teenage voice in your head would love nothing more than to just let go. You’d been containing your powers for as far as you can remember, and they'd always been as irresistible as the promise of Pandora's box.

But you know how that story ends.

You take a moment’s pause. “I have no interest in livin’ in a garbage dump.”

She tilts her head and neatly clasps her hands behind her back. “Do you forget where you come from? I think we both know who lives in a garbage dump.”

“You motherf—”

You’d just managed to escape Cassandra’s lair with Alioth’s foggy storm fangs nipping at your ankles when you ran across the abandoned diner.

You’re ravenous, wrist aching from how you dig at the freezer-burned ice cream. It’s your least favourite flavour but you’ve been running on fumes for the past day or so, so you’ll take what you can get, though you begin to lose your appetite when you remember Johnny, and how Cassandra had zipped the skin from him like popping a blood-filled water balloon.

Something is rumbling beneath your surface. A distinct, constant buzzing, like two atoms slowly building up radioactive energy. You’d asked for none of this, and would certainly give Wade a talking to when the time called for it, but, for now, you’re trying your hardest to make this as easy a process as possible.

Your male counterpart, however, was doing exactly what men generally do. He was making this fucking unbearable.

Logan sits across from you, brooding, fingers gripping the medicinal bottle as if it’s anywhere near appropriate to be drinking. He throws you a particularly lingering glare when he notices you staring, but refuses to maintain eye contact when you look back at him

You toss the tub and spoon across the table with a sharp clatter, your patience collapsing.

“What? Can’t even look at me?” You snap. His eyes look exhausted when they finally meet yours. Wade, being the characteristic little fucker he is, pulls a delighted, shit-stirring grin as he glances between the two of you as if watching a tennis match.

Logan gasps as he finishes taking a drink. “Not much to look at,” he says, wiping the back of his mouth.

The words twist like a fist in your gut. For a moment, you’re rendered too stunned to respond, like he’d tossed a flash-bang toward you. His casual cruelty digs deeper than you care to admit— but you’ve had far too much therapy, too much psychological training, to know he’s deflecting.

But you wouldn’t doubt for a second that there was a more beautiful version of you somewhere.

“What, you comparin’ me to someone?” You ask. You can tell you’ve struck a nerve by the way he goes for another sip. “That it?”

He grimaces.

“Do I make you feel sick? Am I making you feel sick?”

He stares at you hard, but silently. He takes a long swig of the rubbing alcohol and you cringe as his throat bobs. His silence and feigned indifference light a fire of indignation.

“You know, you’re not the only person who’s suffered. Who’s lost people.”

He laughs like what you’re saying is funny. “Yeah, right, bub, you have got no idea what loss is.”

“Oh, you are such a fucking cunt,” you spit, slamming your hands on the table as you rise to your feet. “You know what, Wade? You’re right. I can’t do this. So fuck you and fuck his timeline and fuck every timeline that had anything to do with it! I’m done.”

A wave of uncontrolled psionic energy born from your anger blasts from you upon your final words, slamming them back into their seats and sending the cutlery, nearby debris and weapons flying. The neighbouring windows smash, shattering explosively and sprinkling outside of the diner.

The simmering stops, replaced by a stifling emptiness.

“I wasn’t finished with that!” Wade cries, crouching down to scoop up what remains of the gelatinous spam.

You pause for a moment, glance at your hands, and then grab your jacket in an aggressive fit.

Wade whines your name, halfway through gagging down a forkful of cold spam off of the floor (one of which resonates with a particularly distinct crunch, but you don’t stay to find out whether or not he just truly ate glass), and he doesn’t attempt to get up and follow you as you storm off.

You take a heaving breath of hot desert air when you leave the diner. The sandy breeze tousles your hair, and with the prickly energy of an incoming nervous breakdown, your legs kick and you’re running.

“Stryker got you, too?” Logan asks, eyebrows flicking up.

You don’t look him in the eye when you nod. You cross your arms and slouch a little, caging your heart in. Stryker — the ex-militant with a fetish for experimenting on mutants — had held you captive for several years. He’d brainwashed you into using your empathetic abilities for nefarious purposes, like seducing other mutants, and sometimes important political and militant figures.

“You like me?” He questions, quieter this time.

“No… no, not like you,” you reply. “I don’t have the fancy bones. I heal fast, but I wouldn’t survive that kinda procedure.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t remember everything. Just bits and pieces. Feelings, mostly. Nightmares,” you explain. He nods understandingly. “I’m always on edge.”

“You always seem so calm,” he observes. “Nothing seems to phase you.”

“I have to be. It took a lot of pain and damage to get this level-headed,” you respond quickly. “If I don’t manage my emotions, all the emotions that I receive, touch— it all comes out. Explosively. It has to come out somehow. I could hurt people.”

“Funny. School therapist ‘n’ you’ve got the most issues,” he teases light-heartedly.

“You got no idea, lumberjack.”

You hated killing.

You’re on your knees, arms and hands and chest soaked crimson, sobbing. They’d come out of nowhere, the raiders, and they were hungry for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. All you know is that you felt their need, their desperation, their willingness to do anything to get it.

The flash of harrowing horror someone feels before they die isn’t a unique experience. It simply varies in strength — sometimes it’s a feather-like touch that careens over you, a shuddering realisation that they’re taking their last breath, and sometimes it’s like a crack of lightning. Bloodied hands gripping your biceps with fear in a final attempt to survive. They’d rather cling to you than die alone.

You hate killing. Especially this up close.

You don’t cry for them. You don’t even cry for yourself. It’s a small emotional space where they cry vicariously through you.

You were black-out when it happened, you tell yourself, and suddenly regress to the student you used to be, sobbing on your knees in front of Charles as he tries to teach you serenity and control after an outburst had caused you to kill a nest of birds. He’d done it for Magneto, he said— so he could certainly do it for you.

You should have meditated more.

The sound of a car gurgles somewhere behind you, but you haven’t the energy to look or use your powers to seek out who’s approaching and what their intent is. You’re exhausted enough that whatever they wish to do with you — turn you to processed dog kibble, send you back into the jaws of Cassandra’s lair, kill you — whatever. Just let it happen.

A slamming car door and then the crunching of boots on gravel.

“You’re easy to track.” A pause. “You look pathetic. You done throwing your tantrum?”

Logan. Of course, it’s him.

“Leave me alone, prick.”

“As much as I’d like to, you and the Mouth still have to hold up your end of the bargain,” he quips, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Now get up.”

You glare up at him and his arms unfurl as he notices your tear-streaked face. His expression drops, softens, before it quickly ticks back up into an incredulous, irritated look.

“Are you crying?” He asks with a scoff. He pauses before dragging his hand down his face and rubbing his scruffy jaw. “Jesus Christ. Get up. Get in the car.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ around, Logan. Piss. Off.”

He mumbles a string of incoherent curses and turns on his heel. You think, for a moment and a breath of relief, that he’s truly going to give up on you and leave. He could finish this without you. It’s easier this way.

Instead, a thick bicep wraps around your middle and you’re flung over his shoulder with a yelp.

“Quit your squirmin’.”

“Then put me down!” You yell, thrashing in his grasp. He promptly ignores you, unphased by the jabs you strike at his back. You quickly unsheath the small knife from your jacket sleeve, winding up your arm before you drive it into the muscly pocket by his kidneys.

“Ow! Cheap shot, you little fucker!”

Wade sighs and clutches his hands in front of his chest romantically. “Oh, the newlyweds.”

Logan dumps you into the front seat of the car carelessly, grumbling something as he slams the door shut and applies the child locks. Petty motherfucker.

You rub the sore spot on your tailbone where you landed on a seat buckle funny. You want to bite your tongue but you’re flared up.

“We should switch places. I’m a better driver than you are.”

Logan doesn’t bother looking at you as he starts up the ignition. “Just shut up.”

“You can go on ahead and smoke a cat turd in hell, then.”

“So fuckin’ immature. Grow up.”

“Mom and Dad can you please stop fighting!” Deadpool cries out from the backseats.

You just roll your eyes, resigning into your chair and folding your arms.

At some point along the ride, Wade falls asleep, snoring soundly to himself. You’re silent in the front, drumming a beat on your knees, awkwardly thinking of something to say. You have the impulsive need to fill the silence, even if you were trapped in a crappy car with a man who had made it vehemently clear that he irrevocably hated you.

“So, if they can fix your world, what’s the first thing you’ll do?”

Logan rips his eyes towards you. “What did you say?”

“I said when you get back, what’s the first thing—”

“No, no, no— before that.”

You hesitate, wondering if you’d landed yourself in a trap based on the sharpness of his tone and the way that anger crackles off of him like static lightning.

“If… they can fix your world?”

He slams his foot on the brake and you just about catch yourself before your nose goes flying into the dashboard. Wade is thrust out of the front window, smashing through and promptly falling unconscious underneath a tree, neck broken at an awkward angle.

Your eyes widen.

“What do you mean: if?”

“That’s what Wade said—”

“I don’t give a fuck who said what. He promised me he would fix things—”

“Well, I didn’t promise you shit!”

He laughs, low and devoid of humour. “You don’t have a clue if they can fix things, do you?”

Well, no. You’ve been operating on a hunch the entire time and had half come to accept that you might be stuck in the TVA void forever. Who knows how much time has passed elsewhere?

Regardless of the fact you truly had nothing to do with whatever came out of Wade’s mouth, you weren’t about to let Mr. Worst Wolverine shit all over him and his plan to save his friends.

“Is it really that far-fetched? We made an educated wish!”

Something dark flashes across his face. You can feel hate pulsing off of him in dizzying waves, doubling with each passing moment.

“You made… an educated fucking wish?”

“What’s your problem with me, huh? Got a stick up your ass?” You reach for the car door handle, but he snaps up your wrist, holding it high. “You better let go of me right now, old man—”

“Or what, huh? Gonna run away again?” He threatens.

“You geriatric, alcoholic motherfucker. I’ve done nothin’ but try and be civil with you and you treat me like I’m the one who ruined your life! I don’t know what version of me you knew but you need to stop actin’ like I ain’t worthy of being here because of what you did!”

“Listen, I’ll tell you what my problem is with you—” he leans closer, eyes roving over you with a disgusted look on his face. “I mean, you are a ridiculous, emotional, immature crybaby. I have never met a sadder, more attention-seeking, foul-mouthed little bitch in my entire life and that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than two hundred fuckin’ years.”

“And I’ll tell you, that bald chick was right about one thing: you will never amount to anything. You’ll never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with me. I’d say you should’ve died alone but it’s one of God’s best jokes that in this universe you didn’t seem to fuckin’ die, except that ones on the rest of all of us!”

He breathes heavily when his rant finishes. You’re taken aback, jaw slack, eyes warm with the onset of tears born from shock.

“What, you got nothin’ to say, empath?”

You suck in a deep breath, blinking slowly as you flick the emotional switch off in your head.

“I’m going to hurt you now.”

He snorts. “Oh, are you?”

In a swift manoeuvre, you raise your slap him around the face. You knew better than to punch a metal skull, but you still wanted him to sting. His eyes slit, nostrils flaring in challenge.

“That all you got?”

“Not even close,” you snap back, knuckles whitening from the way you curl your fingers into your palm. “You want to play this game, Logan? Fine— but I’m not gonna sit here and keep on provin’ myself to you. I’ve had enough of your Christ-born-again superiority complex. Did you forget that you’re the worst Wolverine?”

“Oh, yeah? Well, at least I’m honest about who I am. Look at you— you’re a fuckin’ joke, pretending to be some hero in a suit made for a dead team,” he barks back, voice rising with each word. “I don’t need your bullshit “wishes”— you should know, I’ve buried people for less.”

“Yeah, because you’re so perfect, ain’t that right?” You yell, voice cracking from the power of your anger. “The almighty Wolverine— the unkillable bastard who can’t seem to hold onto anythin’ good in his life! You’ve had centuries to get your shit together, and look at you—” You look him up and down with disgust. “—still just a bitter, lonely, broken man, takin’ it out on everyone else and a goddamn bottle.”

His eyes narrow, muscles in his jaw twitching as he appears to fight and keep his temper in check, but there’s an obvious crack forming, the dam of his unbridled rage near overflowing.

“You think you know me, huh?” He murmurs, voice a deadly whisper, the calm before the storm. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about what I’ve been through. You’re nothing but a lost woman playing make-believe and hiding in the shadow of a fuckin’ merc. You’re pathetic.”

Something inside of you breaks. “I’m pathetic? Look at yourself! You’re so goddamn desperate to feel anythin’ that you’ll lash out at everyone around you for some semblance of warmth. There’s a fine line between hate and love, after all! You think you’re so strong because you can heal, because you’ve lived forever? Yeah, right— you’re the weakest, most cowardly man I’ve met in a loong time.”

The blades between his knuckles shoot out with a shink! For a moment, you think that he’s going to attack you. Hell— you even hope that he will, just to diminish some of the unbearable, stifling tension. Instead, the blades retract with a deep breath, and he grabs you forcefully by the collar of your suit, yanking you so close that you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.

His voice is low and rough, each word dripping with venom. “Go on, keep psychoanalysing me. You wanna talk about cowardice? How about leaving people who need you, just because it’s easier to run? Better yet, how about the fact that you abandoned the X-men to hide away in the mountains, huh?”

Your eyes widen with recognition.

“Yeah… Wade’s got a big mouth. Told me everythin’. You’re no hero. Hell, you’re just a selfish, reckless hillbilly who failed at pretending to be human.”

Your heart palpitates in your chest, each word coiling and slicing like blades in your intestines, but you refuse to let him see how much it hurts. Instead, your lips curl into a cold, bitter smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“And you’re just a sad, angry old man who can’t handle the fact that he’s lost everythin’. Go ahead: keep pushing people away! Keep hidin’ behind that anger o’ yours! It’s got you this far, ain’t it?! I’ve treated kids with trauma worth double yours and they were nothin’ but kind and selfless. I won’t let you project your failures onto me. I’m done with this.”

“Yeah, why don’t you walk away!”

The argument reaches a fever pitch, tension sizzling in the air between you. You’re so close, glaring at each other with so much anger, so much resonating heat, that it feels like something’s going to break. And then, suddenly, it does.

Before either of you can think, you close the gap between you, lips crashing against his. It’s not gentle, it’s not soft— the kiss is rough, violent, a clash of lips and fury. His grip on your collar tightens, and for a moment, you’re both frozen, caught in the shock of what’s happening.

But then something more fiery in nature than anger ignites, and he kisses you back just as fiercely, and maybe a little more desperate— like he’s trying to pour out all of his pain and resentment, into this one moment. Your tongues slide against each other and his teeth catch against yours as he groans into your mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, yanking him closer as if trying to hold onto something real and tangible in the chaos of the kiss, reeling from the sudden spinning in your head. It’s angry, raw, filled with all the things you’re not capable of verbalising: grief, love, yearning, reconciliation.

The result of a painful reunion.

The world falls away and all that’s left is the taste of him, the feel of his lips against yours, rough and demanding. You hate him right now— hate him so much that you can’t help but want him. The sheer intensity of it all overwhelms you and makes your fingers shake against the nape of his neck, but you can’t pull away— not now, not when you’ve tasted the wine. You’re too far gone, caught up in the storm of his intoxication, fantasising about ripping that yellow and blue suit off of him and riding him until there’s nothing left for him to regenerate.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the bubble of the moment bursts with the sound of slow clapping coming from outside the car. You jerk back from Logan, breath coming in ragged gasps. Logan is equally as stunned, still tight-gripping your collar as if he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands.

You both see Wade sitting up, hands together, eyes wide as saucers as he takes in the scene.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did I just wake up in a telenovela?” His voice is laced with amusement. “I mean, I know you two clearly had some unresolved sexual tension— but this? Oh, this is gold. Please don’t stop on my account, just let me get the camcorder first!”

You’re too stun-locked to respond, lips parting and closing as your brain scrambles to formulate a response as you’re still reeling from what just happened. Logan (for once) seems equally as lost for words, his typical scowl replaced with a look of confusion.

“Shut up, Mouth,” Logan barks, but there’s no real heat behind it. There can’t be, really, not when you’ve both been caught red-handed. He releases your collar at once.

Wade, however, is having none of it. “Oh, no, no, no! You don’t just get to brush this off like it’s nothing! That was a full-on makeout session! I only interrupted because I thought you were about to rip each other’s clothes off.” He sighs wistfully and crosses his legs. “Here I was thinking that you two hated each other— but I guess all that anger was just foreplay, huh?”

Your face burns with a mixture of shame and something else you’re not quite ready to admit. “Wade— cut it out.”

He grins, not deterred in the least. “Oh, but I’m loving this. All that pent-up aggression finally coming to fruition. It’s beautiful, truly.”

Logan shoots him a look that could melt iron, but Wade just simply shrugs, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. Everyone being me.”

“Wade,” you warn through gritted teeth.

“Well, unless you want me to watch (which I am not opposed to, by the way) maybe next time the two of you should get a room,” he tilts his head. “Or, you know, a couples therapist.”

He then turns to address Logan directly.

“And I must’ve missed the AO3 tags because I did not peg you for the enemies-to-lovers type, Mister. Who knew all it took was a bit of hate-kissing to get the sparks flying? Don’t look so ashamed! I’m just jealous I didn’t get to you first.”

He stumbles towards the car and collapses into the back seat. “Next time you wanna bump uglies, just ask for some privacy! You can save me the broken neck!” He gets himself comfortable, man-spreading and laying his hands on both of your shoulders as you stare dead-forwards, unable to look at each other.

“Gosh, you’re both so tense.” He begins massaging. “Look— props to you both for not letting all that angst go to waste. This is a safe space, and there’s no shame in a little hormone-induced—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Logan interrupts, revving the car back to life and shoving his prodding hands away. “Just be quiet back there.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll keep the commentary to myself. But just so you know— got that bad boy playing on repeat, right here.” He says, tapping the side of his head.

You bury your face in your hands. This was going to be a long car ride.

As the car starts moving again, you muster the bravery to risk a glance at Logan. His expression is hard to read but his energy thrums with uncertainty. The boiling hatred seems to have dialled down to a gentle simmer, mostly redirected towards himself rather than you. There’s something else— something that wasn’t there before. You rip your eyes away quickly, mind racing.

For somebody so in tune with emotions and the literal ability to manipulate them if you so desired, you were horrendous at navigating your own. You don’t know what this kiss meant, or if it even meant anything at all.

If there’s anyone you didn’t expect to come across in the void, it’s X-23— Laura. She’s taller, now, with hair down her back, but she’s still got that stern, mean look on her face that intimidated you the first time you met her.

The weak front door squeaks when you open it a crack. A girl, maybe in her small teen years, blinks up at you.

“Can I help you?” You ask, wiping your flour-dusty hands down on the front of your cooking apron.

“Are you—” she says your name.

You attempt to swing the door shut, but she jams it with her boot. You flick your eyes up, glance around for any signs of threats, and then lower your gaze to her. You wrap your cardigan around your mid-section.

“I don’t go by that name anymore. Who the Hell are you, kid, and what do you want?”

“I’m here about Logan,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Logan. A name followed by your own, both of which you hadn’t heard in years.

“He’s not here, kid. He died years ago.”

“I know,” she answers, unwavering. “I was there when it happened. Your name was the last thing he said.”

You’d let her in for a glass of sugary sweet tea that day, but once stories were exchanged you told her not to come back. She respected your wishes— she said she simply wanted to put a name to the face, to get closure, but you’d felt her desperation. Perhaps she was seeking out respite, or family, but you were in no position to be sharing your space with someone who could put another target on your back.

After introductions were made with the others who had been ripped from their timelines (Elektra, Blade and oh my god a Gambit variant with muscles so huge he could pop your head between his biceps) you excused yourself to sit outside. The buzzing emotional energy made your collar feel a little tight around the neck, your head a little fuzzy with noise, so you decided to reignite the small campfire a few yards away from the safe-house and rest there, instead.

You hadn’t realised you were being followed.

“It’s not safe here.”

“It’s not safe anywhere, Logan.”

He looks defeated, raising and clasping his hands behind his head.

“I gotta leave, baby.”

“If you leave, I ain’t lettin’ you back,” you whisper. “You don’t heal the same anymore, Logan, and you promised me—”

“I know what I promised,” he rebuts, but not angrily. You can already see on his face that he’s made his choice. He’s not coming to you to discuss it. “But I owe it to him. To Charles. He gave me everything.”

“So then what did I give you?” You ask. “Not a home, not my love, not everything?” You slam the tea towel down and turn away from him as the tears form. He’s quiet, perhaps processing everything, but you’re too impatient.

“If you’re just gon’ get up and leave, do it now. I won’t beg you to stay, Jimmy.”

“I love you.”

You don’t say it back.

You wake up with a start, damp clinging to your forehead. You immediately sense another presence and glance over to see Logan watching you with a steady gaze. His expression is soft and almost reverent at first, but his facade hardens with a quick tick of his jaw.

“You talk in your sleep.” The bottle in his hand sloshes as he takes a drink. “Nightmare?”

You sigh frustratedly when you realise it’s him. Of course, it’s him — his energy reeks of whiskey and self-loathing. You prop yourself on your elbows, massaging the sore spots on your temples where sleep fog forms.

“I can’t even get some rest without you botherin’ me? You’re leakin’ self-hatred everywhere.”

“Quit hogging the fire then.”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, but it’s without bite.

A moment passes before he fills the silence again. “What are you even doing out here, alone? Trying to get yourself killed? Pretty stupid.”

“Do you know how hard it is to sleep when nobody shuts up?”

His brows knit. “They’re all dead asleep.”

His hand runs up and down your back.

“Can’t settle?” He asks after you sigh.

“No.” You turn so you’re lying on your back, shoulder touching his, staring up at the ceiling. “Everyone is feeling so loud. It’s like a frequency I can’t turn off.”

He hums. “They’re grieving, I s’pose.”

“Even you and you always said you hated the guy.” You shuffle to lie on your side, facing him. You place a hand on his bare chest. “I can feel it, you know.”

“I didn’t hate Scott. Just found him… obnoxiously irritating.”

“Tough guy.” You giggle and stroke his cheek. “You’re turnin’ soft, old man.”

He pulls you flush against him and presses a kiss to your hairline. You lay in verbal silence for a while, soaking up his presence (god, you were so in love), but you’re interrupted when he abruptly sits up and grabs the white vest he discarded somewhere near the bed.

You lean on your elbows. “Where you goin’?”

“Let’s go for a ride.”

“What?”

“You can’t sleep here. Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“But Charles said—”

“Screw Charles. You comin’ or what?”

He hadn’t told you he loved you yet, but at that moment you felt it.

And so you do, clinging to his mid-section on his motorcycle, head stuffed into the helmet he affectionately forces you to wear. It’s a warm night in New York, soupy with heat, but the further you get away from the compound with him by your side the more you feel you can breathe.

“’Course, you don’t understand.”

You reach for the small pouch on your hip and retrieve a cigarette. You light it between your lips, taking a seat a few paces away from him, hands still shaking a little with the aftershocks of the night terror.

“Since when did you start smoking?”

You perk a brow. “I’ve always smoked.”

He seems to realise something and simply shakes his head before returning to the vice in his fist.

“Right.”

You stare at him for a long, passing moment, before pulling out your lighter again and offering it towards him. He perks a brow.

“I know you got a cigar in there somewhere,” you say. He pauses, sighs, and then retrieves a thick cigar from one of the pouches on his suit. You lean closer, flick the lighter, and cup your hand to protect it from the breeze, shamelessly glancing at the dancing glow that bathes his face amid the firelight. You feel the urge to kiss him again, and when his eyes flick up to yours, you think for the briefest second that he wants to kiss you, too.

Swallowing, you collapse your lighter and clear your throat. You sit quietly, smoking and drinking in a silence only negated by the distant sound of chittering bugs around you. Once you’re finished with your cigarette, you toss the butt into the fire.

“We’re infiltrating tomorrow morning.”

He laughs dryly. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Your lips tighten into a thin line. “We won’t make it without you.”

“Sure you will. I’m not him, you know,” Wolverine grumbles, slugging another shot of alcohol.

You scrutinise him from across the log. You wonder if he feels as pathetic as he looks.

“No— you got that right,” you answer. You pry the liquor from his hands but the grip he releases from the neck of the bottle must have been a mercy on his part because you knew he was extraordinarily stronger than you. “He was much braver than you.”

His eyes flicker from the flames to you as you take a long swig.

“Although probably just as stupid.”

A pause. Crackling and popping firewood fills the silence.

“But, he was a hero. And so are you.”

A beat before he spits a dry laugh, “what gave you that idea?”

You give him a once over and offer a half-smile. “That suit, for starters.”

He looks down at himself like he’d forgotten he was wearing it and wipes away a stray speck of blood from the bright material that you’re sure you might be responsible for.

“What, you like it?” He grunts.

You can’t help but smile. “Yellow suits you.”

“This is all I had left to remember you— them by,” he says, tone turning more sombre as he reminisces.

You decide it’s not the time to make another jab, so, instead, you play back and forth with the bottle for a while until the alcohol stops stinging your throat.

Something small shatters inside of you when you watch him muster the strength to look into your eyes, and his look a little glassy.

“Did you love him?”

Woof, that needed a healthy drink of courage to answer. When you hold his gaze, there’s a hollowness to his expression— an unasked question. Was there truly a version of him worth loving?

“Yeah.” You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth to cover the crack in your voice. “Yeah, I did.”

He’d insisted he hadn’t wanted you around yet he’d kissed you and now followed you to where you’d been sleeping. That had to count for something, so you extend your arm and gesture the bottle towards him— an olive branch in the form of shitty Jack Daniels. Your fingers touch when he accepts it and the brief glimmer of eye contact you share sends shivery energy zipping between you.

“I loved him,” you repeat, as if convincing yourself. A repeated balm to soothe the pain of letting him leave.

“He’s an idiot for leaving you.”

You bite back a sob-laugh, imagination caught somewhere between wondering who you’d rather beat up more: him, or yourself.

“Maybe I’m an idiot for not followin’ him.” You sniff deeply to push back the incoming sob-induced mess. “Not that he woulda let me.”

He hums resignedly.

Clearing your throat, you tuck your hands between your thighs. Swiftly moving on. “What was I— she like?”

He takes a long drink and sighs thickly when he comes up for air. He looks down at his hands when he talks as if choosing his words thoughtfully and carefully.

“Strong, smart. Stubborn. Far too fuckin’ stubborn.”

You force a smile over the flinch of pain in your chest. “Guess we got that in common.”

You reach up and twist the dog tag around your neck, feeling for the ring you’d slipped around the chain. You were never married legally but were in all the ways that mattered. Your heart aches for the brief moment of domesticity you shared with him. You expect him to be finished, but he once laughs, a smile cracking on his face.

“She loved kids— had a soft spot for the weird ones.” He squints and rubs at the flesh between his knuckles where the blades typically protrude. “Put me in my place. Stood up for what was right.”

His words strike a chord in your heart, playing the familiar tune of yearning and guilt and grief. A swelling sensation rises from your stomach and you’re not sure if you’re going to scream, cry or throw up.

“Were you—?”

“In love with her? What, like you can’t tell?” He interrupts, face hardening. Another drink. “It doesn’t matter. We argued one night and I refused to follow her back to the school, ‘bout the same time the humans went mutant hunting.”

Logan takes a moment to catch himself.

“When I came back, shit-faced from the bar, I realised I’d gotten my version of you murdered, along with the rest of them. Laid up like a fucking log pile. That’s what loving me got you.”

The gruesome imagery sours the liquor in your stomach. You push the nausea down with a hard swallow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wh—” He jolts back, face pinched. “I got you killed, and you’re fuckin’ sorry?”

“There’s a world where you didn’t make that choice. You know, I’m not proud of who I am, either,” you answer, softly. “After you left and I lost you… I got bitter, stopped pulling my punches.”

“You never liked hurting people.”

“I didn’t.” You take a deep breath, willing away the warmth that pools behind your eyes. You quickly regain composure with a short cough. “Whatever woman you’re comparing me to, I stopped being her a long time ago. Like you told me— I’m no hero.”

He grunts, looking like he regrets saying that now. Checkmate. You’re not what either of you expected or yearned for in one another, but maybe you’re exactly what you both need.

“You know, your accents thicker.”

He says it as if to draw a line of separation, but you take it as an invitation. Your head swims from the alcohol, and against what probably is your better judgement, you inch closer to him until your knees bump against each other.

“That’s what I get for hidin’ in the mountains. Got adopted by a scary old lady and her church friends. I reckon she rubbed off on me. You’d like her, I think,” you tell him fondly. There’s something wistful about it, imagining a life with him. You grieve a life you never had but somehow, in his company, the melancholy loosens its grip.

“Maybe we got lucky,” you add flatly.

He lifts the bottle with a dry laugh. “You have a very funny idea of what lucky means, bub.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure. Y’see, they didn’t get lucky. They died, ‘n’ we lost each other,” you explain, glancing up at the stars as if either version of you would ever be in heaven, as if it was as loving enough as a mother’s womb to stretch wide enough to allow space for mutants.

God probably hated you just as much as they did down here.

You lower your head onto his shoulder. “But, we’re still here. Maybe there was always space in my universe for you.”

“You’re drunk,” he observes flatly, but he doesn’t move.

“A little.” You get more comfortable against his tense bicep and close your eyes. “Humour me, why don’t you?”

He sighs, but it’s gentle. “Just for a while.”

“Good, because you’re not very good at keeping your feelings quiet. I know you like this.”

“Keep that to yourself.”

You sigh, eyes remaining closed. “We ain’t gonna talk about it, are we?” You ask, in reference to the kiss.

“Nope.”

A high-pitched whine resonates in your ears, vision blurring as if lying underneath a rippling river current. Paradox has just explained the stakes to you — to stop Cassandra, somebody would have to lay down on the wire and make the sacrifice play. This wasn’t a matter of regeneration anymore— it was being ripped apart from the seams, atomised.

It just so happens that your cat, Kevin, has been loving his little journey around the TVA. Cheater.

“You won’t survive it,” is what you say in response to Logan offering himself up for the job. What you really meant was: I don’t think I can survive losing you again.

“I know,” Logan answers. His eyes drip to where you palm at the slow-healing wound on your side, courtesy of the Lady Deadpool variant. You’re winded, running on fumes, and know you’re in no position to start throwing yourself out there as a suicide volunteer. You’d never make the journey, let alone succeed in your venture.

“That’s why it’s gotta be me,” Deadpool interrupts, peeling the mask from his face to address you both. “Neither of you asked for any of this. You were right. I lied. I lied right to both of your faces — just to get you to help me, and you did.”

“You didn’t lie,” Logan replies, throwing you a glance. “You made an educated wish.”

He reaches into his pocket and slaps the bloodied Polaroid of Deadpool’s friends against Wade’s chest. The gesture is a final, silent acknowledgement of why any of you are here in the first place, and everything that’s led to this moment.

“I got nothin’ back in my world,” he explains, the sharp arrow of his words striking a sting straight through your heart. “Let me do this. For you.”

You could see that this meant more to him, that he would only deem himself worthy and die a peaceful death if he could do it knowing he saved at least one variant of you. This is more than just a mission. This is his only chance to redeem himself, and you know you’re in no position to start trying to convince him that you’d have him either way. Fuck redemption.

You’re parallel from one another, standing just outside of touching distance. It was a cruel existence— reaching out and never quite being able to hold on. It’s inevitable, the pull you feel. You’re dictated by his gravity but cursed by the narrative.

Your chest rises and falls with shallow, laboured breaths as you attempt to process what’s happening, what he’s asking you to let him do. The pain in your side ebbs only from the comparative pain of watching another version of the man you love sacrifice himself for you.

His voice is a quiet whisper. “Give me this.”

But I love you. The words are there, hiding behind your clenched teeth, gnawing at the bars like a feral animal caged in the reminder that this isn’t — shouldn’t be — the man that you love.

Something shifts and as you’re running on the delirium of your battery running low, healing resources drained, you decide that you don’t actually care to make the distinction any more.

You’re in no condition to fight; you barely had the energy to argue with him, let alone stop him. But you can’t just let him go.

One wobbly step forward. You poke his chest, mustering whatever energy remains to express your feelings in the only true way you know how. “I…” you stammer, but you suddenly can’t find the words.

His hand reaches up and he splays yours flat against his chest. Faintly, buried deep behind the armoured layer of his suit, you feel the distinct thunk, thunk of his heart. He exhales deeply when your empathetic energy transmission reaches the other side. Your eyes connect, and even through the sharp whites of his mask, you can feel the psionic pulse resonating between you two— strong enough that the wound on your side begins to sew itself together.

“I know,” he whispers.

And you believe that he does.

He nods shortly, releases your hand, and turns on his heel. You collapse against the control centre, eyes needling through the camera footage, desperate to watch the final moments and know that his sacrifice was worth it.

It’s about the same time that Deadpool yanks his mask back on and barrels down the hallway after him.

“Wade!”

You glance back at the party as you creep towards the apartment door to leave. Your consciousness has only recently slipped back into place, having hovered somewhere above your body for the entire time you witnessed your friends atomically ripped apart, only for them to return mere moments later.

You think it might’ve been witnessing Wolverine sweaty and shirtless that was finally the last straw for you. You’re not sure you’ve recovered since.

You thought you were being sneaky about your departure, but a flat hand reaches from out of view, splays and then holds the door closed.

“You sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Logan asks, voice slow and tentative.

“I ain’t runnin’ this time, I promise,” you answer. He rests his arm on the beam above him, making him appear even taller and maybe even more imposing. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, trying to find the right words, ones that you hope won’t give you away. You nearly squeak. “I um— just—”

He arches a brow, a hint of a micro-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He shifts, getting closer by just a fraction. “Yeah?”

Trying to keep your distance is proving to be immensely hard when he’s gotten himself this deliciously close. His energy tastes of confidence, a stark contrast to the self-loathing only a mere few days prior. It’s magnetic. If you make eye contact now, you’re not sure you’ll be able to control yourself.

The atmosphere crackles with tension, like the static energy right before lightning strikes. His gaze is intense when you look at him, and with the way his eyes glance purposefully down at your parted lips—

Jesus. Pull yourself together.

You gently pull away from him and feel the spell of the moment dissolve. “I just… need time.”

Recognition flashes on his face, as well as a tick of disappointment, but he seems to understand.

A beat, then he taps the door before stepping aside. “Alright. Don’t be a stranger.”

Wade bursts around the corner, arms wide and voice booming. Vanessa hangs off of his arm, white teeth gleaming with mischievous joy.

“Whoa, hey there, lovebirds! What’s going on here— a secret rendezvous? Looking for somewhere to sneak off? Should I cue the romantic music or just give you two some privacy?”

You jump in surprise at his sudden entrance, flinching away from Logan as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Logan’s expression shifts from whatever tender moment was brewing, spell broken, to a mix of exasperation and resignation, jaw tightening.

“Wade,” he grumbles, voice sharp, but you can acknowledge there’s a level of begrudging affection beneath the steely surface. “Timing, as usual, is impeccable.”

“Um, actually, I was just leavin’,” you answer, tugging on your bag.

“WHAT!” Wade exclaims, face dropping. “We haven’t even gotten to our favourite part yet!”

You tick a brow. “Our favourite part?”

“The cocaine part,” he says, matter-of-factually.

“Wade, that was one time,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry. Thank you for inviting me. I just can’t miss my flight.”

Dogpool jumps at your ankles, whimpering and chewing on the hem of your jeans. You give her a gentle scratch on her head, deftly avoiding the lick of her impressive tongue. Wade scoops her up, holding her against his shoulder and kissing her affectionately on her wet nose.

“You, ah, need a ride?” Logan offers.

Your heart stutters at his chivalrous attempt. “Oh, um. That’s okay— I called a cab. So.”

That was a lie. You hadn’t— not yet. You just weren’t sure if you were going to make the right decisions if you were alone in his company for an hour. Probably wouldn’t make it to the airport without fighting or crying or making stupid choices.

He rubs his jaw. “Right.”

“I’ll… see you around?”

“I better!” Wade yells, using two fingers to gesture that he’s keeping his eye on you as Vanessa yanks him around the corner gleefully.

A magnetic tether — or red string, whatever you want to call it — seems to strain when you walk away from Logan. You feel the pull in your chest, a fluttering of electricity, but you swallow the urges and ignore the way they scratch like glass on the way down.

You call an Uber, squeezing your bag tightly for a source of comfort as you crowd yourself into the back seat. You spare one last glance at the apartment and think for a brief moment you see a silhouette of someone watching you from the balcony, but they slip away into the light before you can discern it.

You know, though. Of course, you know.

You expected relief when you arrived home, but, instead, the aching, gnawing black hole in your chest seems to grow exponentially. You go through the motions— feed your cat, tend to the garden, eat the food with no appetite, go to Church.

The fixture of Jesus pinned to the cross gives you pause for the first time. You wonder if he was a mutant.

You weren’t sure how much of this “time” thing you were going to need to heal or make a decision on where you and Logan stood after everything, but only after your second night, sleepless and alone, do you start to doubt that this will be an easy process. You communicate like you know what you’re doing, but you haven’t stopped shaking since he kissed you, like a newborn foal traversing ice.

You want to do things right. You’re not trying to replace any missing pieces or live up to any expectations he might have of you. The girl he knew seemed to be a softer, sweeter (less traumatised) version of you, and you worry that you’d be constantly comparing him to a ghost of himself.

The rain lulls you as it patters on the window by your bed, but sleep doesn’t take you.

You hear thunder, you think, and wonder if the chickens are frightened in their coops. However, the distant grumble continues to grow, reverberating through the floorboards of your rickety cabin. As it creeps closer you discern that it’s not a brewing storm— but the growling engine of a motorcycle.

Awash with a deep sense of knowing, you throw yourself out of bed and knot a silk robe around your middle. The sound of the engine dissipates, replaced only by the hammering rain and the rushing pulse in your ears when you tear your door open.

You see him— all leather jacket slick with rainwater and tight jeans, brows pinched against the onslaught of the weather as he dismounts his bike.

Logan.

When your eyes meet, there’s a palpable shift in the air, and the storm, angry as a howling spirit, mirrors the turbulent emotions within you. You don’t speak, you don’t think, you just act.

Barefoot, dressed in your slip of a robe, you race down the short path and meet him halfway.

“Logan? Logan?” You call out. “What are you doin’ here?!”

“Had to see you,” he calls out between strides, voice nonchalant as if what he’s said was obvious.

You’re closing the distance. “That’s a day’s ride, and the weather—”

Instead of letting you finish, he grasps your face, kissing you suddenly and with a reverence so sincere that your knees feel gelatinous and weak. His thumbs brush away the raindrops— tears? —that drip over your crystallised lashes. His touch is both grounding and electrifying; the warmth of him pressed against you is a stark contrast to the chilling downpour.

Your fingers curl against the front of his jacket, clinging with equal fervour as if it’s the only thing keeping you anchored from floating someplace else. The strength of his body crowds over you, arm sliding down to capture you by your waist as you lean into him, syrupy-decadent and entirely reliant on him to keep you upright.

The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding over yours tasting both bittersweet and intoxicating in equal measures, like cigar smoke and peppermint gum. There’s a distinct sharpness of liqour and you wonder if he had a shot (or bottle) of courage before coming here. You breathe deeply against his skin, smelling rainwater, musk and gunpowder; your senses are completely overwhelmed by him and you’re not sure that anything could pull you away.

The red string knots.

When you both eventually take pause, gasping for air as the rain continues to pelt, his eyes lock with yours. He radiates relief, desire, and a raw vulnerability that makes your heart ache.

“You’re freezin’,” he murmurs, peppering kisses against your lips, your cold nose, and pulling one of your hands to his face to peck along your palm. You feel dizzy in his embrace, drunk on his lips.

“You should come inside,” you whisper, “before the neighbours start askin’ questions.”

He quietly nods, kissing your fingers before following you inside and ducking away from the rain.

Once inside, he shakes the rain from his hair with a flick, eyes immediately roaming around the innards of your respectable (tiny) house, the size of him immediately proportionally shrinking the interior. He absorbs your surroundings, chivalrously pretending like he can’t see every curve of you in that wet material.

You lead him towards the heath, lighting a small fire to help dry you both off. You leave, pottering around to gather some towels for your hair, and arrive back to see he’s peeled off the top layer of his clothes, leaving him half-exposed, his back an impressive marvel of rippling muscle. He glances at you over his shoulder.

You’re lost for words, but can’t just stand there ogling him. “Um, I don’t think I have any spare clothes that’ll… fit…”

When he turns to face you, his rain-slick torso shines in the firelight, skin glistening on the taught muscles of his biceps as he accepts a towel from you. Your words lag, entirely distracted by the realisation of one thing when you glance down at his v-line and dark, coiling hair that creeps down into his jeans: you’re absolutely going to have sex with this man.

You might’ve decided that when you watched the way his jeans clung to him when he dismounted his motorcycle, but that’s beside the point.

“That’s alright,” he answers, towel slung over his shoulder, eyes roving shamelessly over the damp, silky robe that clings to your silhouette effortlessly. “Don’t need ‘em.”

Your mouth dries when he steps closer to you, head angled, lips centimetres apart.

“Logan…” you breathe, tone edging toward a warning.

He presses against you, tilting you back. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop. I’ll get back on that bike and I’ll leave.”

You creep further away, trying to catch your breath. “I—”

The words don’t manifest, simply because you don’t have it in you to lie— to deny yourself of this.

He cages you in against the wall, shrinking you underneath his frame, eyes narrowed and dark as they search for yours through lowered lashes. “Tell me you don’t feel somethin’, and I’ll walk away. You won’t see me again.”

His bare-chested proximity was overwhelming you. You’re acutely aware of every inch of his skin that touches yours, pebbled nipples hard against his warm flesh, stubbled jaw nuzzling against your neck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel like a teenager again, anxious and hormonal, a ball of puppy fat and unrequited crushes. The space between your thighs positively aches with heat, throbbing like a second heartbeat.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you that I feel something.”

He leans back, lips quirked with a flash of disappointment.

You blink up at him. “Let me show you instead.”

He ticks an eyebrow.

You use your empathetic influence to decrease his heartbeat, relaxing him down to the bone. He sighs, nosing against your shoulder, arms flexing as he holds himself up against you.

“Just with a little influence…” you stroke your way up from the slow pulse in his neck to his jaw, capturing him swiftly. You use your mutation to increase his heart rate this time, hiking it up to an excitable level. His cheeks begin to flush, pupils dilated, lips parted with the anticipation of your kiss. His eyes darken with something intrinsically primal and hungry.

“Does it excite you?” You ask, innocently.

He shakes his head all dog-like as if to regain control, canine showing as his lips curl into a wolfish grin.

“You’re not the only one with… tricks. I can do that, too— in other ways,” he says, tone low and suggestive. He lifts a hand, tracing a knuckle over your exposed collarbone, shifting the soft material of your robe just an inch. Your breath hitches.

“You know I can hear your heartbeat, right?”

You blush. You hadn’t known that.

You challenge his eye contact, feigning self-control and authority. The stare-down has your pulse spiking, arousal ricocheting down your spine and sitting low and syrupy in your belly.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast, too.”

Oh, Hell. He’s got you melted like butter in a pan.

You rest your head against the wall, breath quickening. “If we do this, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Good,” he growls. “I don’t like to stop.”

The teasing back-and-forth game of teetering towards nearly touching finally gets the better of you. You’re weak, as malleable as soft dough, so you invite him against your mouth with a sigh-wine and a tug on the nape of his neck.

He positively devours you, a hand palming at your breast as you kiss desperately and feverishly. The shoulder of your robe slips and you’re half-exposed, the slip barely holding itself together by the loose knot on your waist. He pulls you impossibly closer, the skin of his chest flush against yours as he reaches and digs fingers into the globe of your ass, hips twitching together.

You fumble between your bodies, yanking on his belt buckle and zipper impatiently. He pulls backwards, a wet string of spit snapping between your lips as you separate, helping you with steadier fingers to remove his jeans. With equal passion, he swiftly tugs on the waist-tie of your robe and discards it somewhere on the floor.

When you’re both bare, nude silhouettes sharp and soft in the firelight, he stumbles you over to the plush rug in the centre of the room. He nods to the couch.

“Legs up.”

You obey without hesitation, taking your seat and spreading decadently for him. He kneels below you of you, hips between your ankles, and gazes at you like a hungry, stalking animal. You feel impossibly sexy and dangerous.

He peppers kisses along the bone of your ankle first, foot hiked up onto his shoulder, only breaking eye contact to flutter his eyes closed. He moves along the inner length of your leg, pausing keenly against the sensitive parts— the thin stretch behind your knee, the soft plush of your thigh. He lowers himself, scruff tickling between your legs, and then licks a molten stroke between your folds, parting you with his tongue and burying his face deeper.

You clench around his skull, mindfulness of your heightened mutant abilities long forgotten. You can’t crush metal between your thighs. Or can you?

He groans into you, varying suckling and kissing you on your clit with long strokes on the blade of his tongue to your hole, lapping up the nectar of your arousal, fingers digging bruisingly into your hips. The sting of his grip and the relentless lave of his tongue entice moans from you, fingers raking into his hair for some semblance of reality grounding in your pleasure-lapsed consciousness.

Jesus. With as filthy as his mouth was, you should’ve known he would be this good at eating pussy.

You come quick, orgasm pulsing on his lips. The burn of overstimulation seizes your muscles, writhing against his onslaught, but he shoves your hips down.

“Not done with you yet,” he murmurs possessively, leaning back to wipe his chin. “On all fours.”

You bite your lower lip, suppressing the humiliation of the intimacy (vulgarity) of it. You turn, belly still clenching with the aftershocks, arching with the anticipation, whining moments later when his mouth reconnects with you. His hands palm at your ass, spreading you wider, tongue slipping dangerously close to the tight ring of muscle.

He slides a finger knuckle-deep, miming fucking you in a rhythmic pulse. His other hand massages you, thumb sliding down until you jerk sensitively against his nudging intrusion.

You feel impossibly full and tingly, clenching around the burn of his thumb and the velvet of his finger, second orgasm surging and bubbling over with your face pressed against the couch cushion, lips agape. You’re slick, drip-dropping onto his cupping palm, every nerve in your body burning raw as his wrist works you through the pulses.

You turn over, relishing in the sight of his scruff glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm, his eyes dark with lust— a hellish man, seraphic on his knees for you. Your insides clench at the sight as he quite literally shatters and redefines what worship means to you.

“Tired already?” He hums, massaging your hips.

You perk a challenging brow. “That was just the warm-up, old man.”

“Alright,” he seethes, sucking on his lower lip as he lifts himself up to your level. “Show me what you got then, baby.”

When you kiss, his mouth slides against yours, drenched with the taste of yourself. His cock steels against your belly when you pull him close, tip pearl-smooth with precum when you reach down and grasp him with a hollowed fist. The feel of him, heavy and warm in your grip, fans to life the flames of your briefly quenched arousal, and you hungrily pull him down onto the couch beside you.

Moisture pools on your tongue as you rub him. You spit on your hand before stroking him from the base to tip, lathering him silky with your drool. You tuck your hair behind your ears, narrowing your cheeks as you slide your mouth up and down his length, fisting the inches that remain.

“Christ.” He twitches in your mouth as you gently massage the warm weight of his sac, lewd sounds emanating from where your lips and tongue meet him. “Just like that. Good fuckin’ girl,” he snarls, gripping your hair in a fist at the crown of your head. Your engine purrs with his encouragement, revving with newfound enthusiasm.

You always gave as good as you got, after all, and you’re certainly not one to back away from a challenge.

His head lolls onto the back of the couch, thighs tense beneath you, cock hot and hard on your tongue. He growls when he comes, pulsing strongly in your mouth as you lap up the produce of his orgasm, salty and molten down your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Put those regenerative powers to good use, why don’t you?” You ask, working him through the over-sensitivity with your wrist. His eyes don’t once leave yours, even as they glaze over and flinch from the pleasure burn. There’s a sharp look of challenging determination on his face— a grit of his teeth, the furrow in his brow. He remains hard in your hands and you perk an impressed brow. Not bad for an old man.

There’s a sweet moment of vulnerability when you crawl over him, a brief sobering in the cloud of lust, a clarity of two not-quite strangers and their shared grief and yearning.

You’re not sure where this moment will take you, but the love of somebody scraping together the shards of a shattered heart for a brief time, even as it cuts their hands, holds you with a semblance of human connection so sincere that you’ll carry it with you for a lifetime.

His thighs spread to accommodate you. You hold your fingers against the thick chords in his neck for support as you fumble between your bodies, slotting him against the catch in your cunt before lowering yourself entirely.

You hiss against the intrusion and he steadies you with a hand on your hip.

“Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You laugh-moan, laying your palms against the coils of hair on his sweat-shimmering chest.

“I can take it.”

The fire, intended to help dry you off, creates a heated environment that beads sweat on his temple. The only brain cells that remain coherent bounce around on lust in your skull — so you lean forward, lick the salty droplet clean, and sigh-whine as you begin rocking against him.

You fall into sync quickly, a desperate rhythm of desperate bodies. The delicious ache of him inside you is a masochistic thrill, similar to the irresistible press on a day-old bruise. The squelching shlick between your bodies is an animalistic reminder of your flesh and blood as you chase the pleasure, bouncing with vigour.

“Christ— I can feel you…” his jaw clenches with resolve, fingers digging into the meat of your ass. “…dripping all over me. You wanted this bad, huh?”

“Wanted to ride you in that fuckin’ Honda,” you straighten your posture, leaning away from him to hold your breasts, panting words between bated breaths. “Thought it might shut you up.”

His hand snaps up and grabs you roughly by the chin. “Mm… mouthy, aren’t ya?”

You grin. “You got no idea, lumberjack.”

He pulls your face against him, meeting your mouth halfway in a sloppier, fever-driven kiss that shoots arousal to your core like a shot of his favourite whiskey. Something feral stirs within you: a primal, cellular-deep need to connect with him further. Your empathetic power roils off of you like steam on a hot spring, surging into and merging with him until there’s nothing but one feeling, a black hole of unquenchable desire.

You suddenly feel as though you are him: navel-deep, a throbbing muscle with an aching desire to dive further into the serpent-clutch of your cunt, gliding through tingly, honey-silk velvet, blades hanging onto a tether of self-control as they threaten to slide out of your knuckles in ecstasy.

Well. This was certainly new. Add “voodoo sex doll” to your list of mutations.

You gasp, ripping away from the kiss, your powers recoiling back into you at whip-lash speed, dizzying in its ferocity. His eyes meet yours with darkened curiosity.

“Did you—”

“I felt that,” he grunts, tongue darting out to roll over his lips. “It always like that for you? Feelin’ so fuckin’ full?”

You half-laugh blissfully. “Only the good times.”

“I’ll show you a good time, alright.”

He isn’t gentle when he manhandles you, forcing you into an arch as he repositions and aligns himself behind your thighs, one foot planted firmly on the floor, the other bent to accommodate the new angle. He reinserts himself inside of you with ease, hands palming your hips and ass.

You feel him nudging cervix-deep and you reach out, clawing at the couch to hold your jerking body steady against the relentless slap of his hips. There’s no need to tell him faster or harder when you feel the metal plate of his adamantium hips pressing against your ass, pounding and vulgar with the sound of sweat-damp skin-on-skin.

It’s involuntary, the way you pant and cry out, intoxicated by the relentless drag and pull of his cock. He says something to you but you either don’t hear him or have enough conscious space in your sex-drunk fog to process words and respond. He slides a hand down your spine and pulls on your hair until you’re upright, breath hot when it fans against your neck.

“Where’s that mouth gone?”

You lick the drool from your lip, throwing him a glance over your shoulder. “Fuck you.”

The half-lidded up-and-down look he gives you as satisfaction grows slowly on his lips turns your bones to jelly. “There she is,” he growls back, offering a sharp slap of encouragement on your ass as he drops you back onto your front. You involuntarily grip around him, puffy clit throbbing with the almost-but-not-quite-there anticipatory build. “You gonna come for me? Yeah? I can fuckin’ feel it.”

You slide a hand underneath yourself, reaching for the swollen nub with two fingers. You’re overwhelmed with kinetic energy akin to a fizzy champagne bottle— two more shakes until you’re ready to pop.

You hear a Snikt! behind you, accompanied by a throat-caught groan, and then the distinct ripping shred of blades impaling your couch. You finally come, hard, when you feel him throbbing inside of you, followed by the decadent syrupy flood of his orgasm filling you up. He ruts into you one, two three more final times, milking himself dry, before collapsing over your body in a sweaty heap, sparing you the weight of his metal bones with a forearm propped next to you.

Shared fluids drip to the couch when he eventually pulls out of you, blades retreating into his clenched fists. The fluffy innards of the chair spill out beside you, and, while you were in no financial position to afford another, the sight entices a humoured smile from you.

“Sorry,” he says with a wince, helping you sit up when your unreliable legs shake beneath you.

“That’s alright. It’ll make for an interestin’ story,” you retort, fanning yourself with a hand. You both let out a shared laugh, mostly from the relieved delirium of it all. After a beat, you lean into him, massaging a hand across his belly. “So. We really doin’ this?”

His face softens. “If you’ll have me.”

You cup his face and kiss his cheek. “I’d take any version of you I could get.”

divider credits: @/vysleix and @/cafekitsune tag list: @bearwithegg, @uhlunaro, @sseleniaa, @jxssimae, @autumnsymphony

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you’re jealous and paige blows your back out to remind you she loves you.

warning (s): literally the nastiest thing I’ve wrote — smut, strap, pussy eating, finger sucking, choking, squirting, cervix play, dacryphilia, public stuff a little, nipple sucking, degrading, spitting, humping, drunk sex, Paige literally destroys you.

word count: 3k.

author note: been havin some terrible writers block so might be last post for a lil while — unedited, this sex is just so raw nd nasty I’m sorry bro I cannot pls read at own risk

You found yourself at the draft afterparty, separated from Paige, your girlfriend, but you hardly noticed as you knocked back drinks one after another. Time slipped away as you chatted with your two closest friends, Mrs. Griffin and Mrs. Arnold, jokingly referring to yourselves as future NBA wives, with you as Mrs. Bueckers in jest.

As the drinks flowed, tensions rose. You were on your fourth shot in fifteen minutes when Aubrey's girlfriend remarked, "You know, I understand why you're so possessive, girl. If I were dating Paige, I'd be on edge too. She's quite the ladies-man." In your interpretation, her comment suggested that if she were in your shoes dating Paige, she wouldn't let Paige out of her sight. You had full trust in your girlfriend, without a doubt, but it was other girls you didn't trust. Knowing Paige's attractiveness and the constant flirtation she encountered throughout her life, you understood she might not always notice when a bitch wanted to fuck, leaving an opportunity for other girls to take advantage of the situation. Spurred on by the alcohol, you staggered to your feet and clumsily balanced on the chair you had just vacated. "Where is she?" you slurred.

"Over there," Aubrey's girlfriend pointed.

You spun back around, irritation evident on your face. "Oh, hell no," you spat, contemplating. "Should I go? Imma go!"

"Don't do it, girl!" your friends called out, but it was too late. Determined, you marched over to Paige, who was seated on the couch beside another girl, chatting and laughing, the girl's hand casually resting on her shoulder as she spoke.

There was absolutely no reason for her hand to be on your girlfriend. You were gonna crash-out.

"Paigeyyy!" you exclaimed, drawing most eyes in the party to you. "What... are you... doingg, babe?"

Paige smiled at you and exchanged words with the girl beside her, pointing in your direction. However, as you approached, her smile faltered, turning forced. You hovered over your girlfriend's form, pouting down at her. "Fix your face," she murmured softly as her hands found yours, holding them tightly. Your eyes darted towards the company Paige was keeping, silently hoping that after her subtle request to fix your expression went unheeded, she'd catch the hint as you focused on the source of your discomfort. "O-uhh, babe, this is Holly. She's my high school coach's daughter," Paige explained.

You smirked, subtly digging at her. "You're breaking a cardinal rule, Paige. Didn't they say the coach's daughter was off-limits?"

Holly's response hit a nerve, even more so if you were sober. "Well, that was back in the day," she said, still grinning politely.

You smiled, amplifying yours to mimic hers as you sat down. Not in-between them, however. You swiftly settled into Paige's lap, feeling her hands involuntarily wrapping around your waist, since she was still holding your hands before you sat. "So it's changed now, Holly? You're one for bending the rules?" you pressed. "When a boundary isn't visible, breaking it becomes effortless," she smoothly retorted, a subtle dig that undoubtedly rankled you, adding fuel to the fire of your annoyance. "Well, Holly, I'm right fucking here," you asserted firmly, the intensity of your words conveying both defiance and a challenge to her audacious remark. "Safe you made it in time. It was like I had a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode," Holly remarked, subtly implying that any further delay might have jeopardized your relationship.

Before you could speak, Paige intervened, diffusing the tension as she spoke up, "So, guys. Who can forget that buzzer-beater from last year's championship?" As Holly began to yap, you couldn't help but stir in Paige's lap. Your girlfriend always looked majestic, but especially now, under the spell of alcohol. You rocked your hips forward, feeling the stirrings of arousal. You were now horny. And while tipsy and horny, if there was one thing you didn't care to respect was the conversation. So, while Paige was mid-sentence, you turned and began to make out with her, your desire overriding any concern for the topic at hand. Paige kissed back at first, but with your chest pressed against her, she couldn't resist allowing a hand to brush against it, stroking your hardened nipples in the process. When she noticed your arousal, she pulled away slightly and whispered sensually, "We'll continue this later," before unashamedly turning back to Holly, seamlessly returning to the conversation.

Later? You were a wreck. If somebody who wasn't already in the loop with all the others had been at the party, they'd surely be filming this, and you'd be looking insane. Your drunken antics drew a bemused smile from Paige as you pressed your lips to her jaw while she tried to speak, your warm breath giving her chills. She gently tried to steer your body away, to steady your hips, but you had other plans.

It was as if you had forgotten you weren't in the privacy of your own home as your hand moved to your own chest, intending to let your tits spill from your top before Paige stopped you, concealing your intent with a quick, "Wardrobe malfunction?"

At her words, you remembered she had lips, and kissed them before whispering, "Want them off," into her ear, "Want your mouth on them." Her mouth watered as her fingers helped you fix said wardrobe malfunction, giving her an excuse to marvel at your hardened nipples through your dress, begging to be sucked. With a playful glint in her eye, Paige allowed herself to be swept away by the moment, ghosting her hands over them and eliciting a hushed whine from your lips. Reveling in the sensation of your bodies pressing together, the allure of the party gradually faded. Soon, she found herself leading you home, your fingers intertwined as you stumbled through the door, eager to continue the intimacy in the privacy of your own space. Once inside, the air crackled with electricity as Paige pulled you close, her lips finding yours in a heated kiss. Your hands roamed eagerly over each other's bodies, seeking out every inch of exposed skin with fervent desire. "You know, I'm starting to hate Holly," you muttered against Paige's lips, jealousy prominent in your tone.

Paige leaned in, pleased, as she whispered, "Well, jealousy looks sexy on you, babe." Clothes were discarded in a frenzy of lust, and Paige found herself above you on the bed with her lips trailing a path of wet kisses down your neck and chest. With tender care, she teased your hardened nipples, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

Her hand trailed lower, down the curve of your stomach, before finally finding its destination between your thighs. With gentle strokes, she teased your clit, reveling in the slick wetness that greeted her touch. She brought her fingers to her lips, sucking them clean with a sinful groan before plunging them back into your eager cunt.

Deftly, Paige slipped a finger inside you, marveling at the way you clenched around her in response. But she wasn't content to simply watch from the sidelines. Leaning down, she captured your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue dancing with yours as she devoured you whole.

With hunger in her actions, touch, and eyes, she descended lower, trailing kisses along your thighs before finally finding her destination. With a flick of her tongue, she tasted your essence, savoring the sweet nectar that flowed from your core. With each stroke of her tongue, she brought you closer to the edge, her fingers working in perfect harmony to push you over. "More?" she asked, her voice breathy and gravelly, and you nodded eagerly from above her. "Please," you whispered, breaths catching in your throat. She smirked up at you. "Fuck, you're a slut." she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her mouth flush against your pussy, closer, for a more precise to-the-clit angle. When you nod, "I am, mommy," you watch hazily as she indulges in you, her tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path from your clit down to your folds repetitively. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Your body trembling with pleasure, Paige knew that she had finally proven herself to you. She was the only one who could satisfy your deepest desires. She wanted to be the only one. For her to eat you like this, so unapologetically, it'd stole all those seeds of doubt from your mind that Holly had planted. "Wanna eat this pussy every day," she speaks tightly against your pussy, so deep in your folds, and your eyebrows furrow at the slight pinch of her teeth against your clit. But she swiftly distracts you by recycling the saliva and wetness on her lips, spitting onto you, further soaking your already dripping cunt. The feeling of being soaked, then getting lapped up like a dog drinking water, was making your head spin. You grabbed your tits, squeezing them like your own personal stress balls, and the sight caused Paige to moan. "Play with them like that, ma, fuck." she groaned, her fingers pumping into you ridiculously nice, the perfect tempo to match her tongue work.

Your toes curled. "M' gonna—"

She nodded like, "I know," and watched as your body writhed, surrendering to the pleasure.

"Fuck, Paige, please don't stop. You're amazing, oh shit," you moaned.

She didn't. Not for a second did she quit eating you like her life depended on it, and you cried out in pleasure until the moment you released all over her face and fingers, painting her in your cum. Your stomach contracted as she kept fucking her fingers inside you, pushing it all out. Not even a second later, she had turned you over on your stomach and whispered in your ear, "Looks like I need to show you your place again, don't I?" It might have been the alcohol in your system, but you swore you had never been this horny for anything or anybody before. There you were, sprawled out on Paige's bed, your legs spread apart with her in between them, to your utter dismay, the blonde doing absolutely nothing. You felt like you were about to burst as you nodded your head vigorously, turning back over to give her your puppy eyes. "Want it, baby," you whispered urgently.

She pressed herself flush into your body, her tongue eagerly exploring your wet lips, probing its way into your mouth as you whimpered desperately. Allowing you to speak, her tongue trailed up your neck, to your breasts, and as she sucked your tits gently, you whined. "Wanted this all night." "Please..." you pleaded, voice thick with need, "Please, Paige, don't make me wait any longer," begging for what you knew was merely inches away from your pussy, tucked away. Her finger, previously servicing you, found its way into your mouth, and she pushed the long digit into the warmth repeatedly, teasingly fucking your throat as you eagerly sucked and moaned around it, savoring the taste of your own arousal. It was so hard not to give in when you looked this way—just so fucked out and slutty, when nothing had even really happened yet. Breaking face, she pressed her lips against yours, and your tongues danced together in a manner that made you think Paige was genuinely trying to receive and keep your taste, eat you alive. By each passing moment, your bodies found themselves closer than before, deepening the connection between you involuntarily.

It was half-intimate and half-raw, and it felt all the way good. Way too good. When you finally felt the thick, hard piece of plastic against your pussy, you sighed into the kiss, tilting your head back as Paige began to grind it against you. Her hand, previously holding your thigh and pressing you into the mattress, trailed down your body with deliberate intent, settling at your hip. You tried to squirm away from the feeling below you both, but she effortlessly held you there, a showcase of her immense strength that only turned you on even harder. She continued to rut her hips against you relentlessly, dragging the member up and down repeatedly with slow, sharp thrusts of her talented hips. She groaned, the dildo on the other end vibrating, squeezing and fucking sequencly against her wet, warm, tight walls. "Feel that?" she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you?" It was all euphoria—you were too spent to reply, but you managed to murmur, "Inside," Paige held the base of it with her hand, groaning your name as she watched your pussy slowly swallow it all in with her piercing blue eyes. "Look how that just stretched you out, ma, feel it," she moaned, pumping into you so hard your entire body rocked, and causing the dildo to slide past her G-spot precisely, coaxing a throaty breath from her.

All you wanted was to please her. It meant good for you in the end. She was in awe watching your incredibly tight cunt be stretched that wide, so you complied, reaching your hand down and feeling it with shaky hands. "Fuck," you gasped, "So big, baby, god." She smirked down at you. "Play with your clit, baby, let me watch you." and like a puppet, your hand falls to between your legs, rubbing yourself hastily. You're still sensitive from your last orgasm, but you keep going, the deepness of Paige's cock feeling like a punch and stab to your guts each time she plows down. But the pressure inside you and the one you delicately place upon your clit feel so, so good that despite the overcapacity, you find your other hand coming to her back, then to her ass, squeezing it as you plead, "Don't stop!" You're crying now, tears staining your cheeks, and all it takes is for Paige to really look at your face, seeing how hard you're working for her right now before the tension begins to mount. She tries to hold out, but everywhere she tries to look makes it worse. Her head dips low to avoid your face, and you're sluttily playing with your clit. At your mid-section, your tits are bouncing in her face. And she knows if she looks at you one more time, it's over. Her body falters, and she lays on you as she fucks into you so carefree of anything in the world. You cry out whinily as you feel her deeper, the tip placing kisses to your cervix, and her weight on your lower stomach pressing the bulge the strap makes DEEP.

"So good," you whimpered, clenching around her with each drag of her stroke against the depths of your body. "Take me, Paige, take all of me."

She loses it at that, growling out, "Open your mouth, sexy," and you stick your tongue out to meet a hot, thick glob of spit into it.

Without needing to be told, you swallow, knowing it's what she wants. Her impending orgasm is evident as she speaks, her voice filled with urgency. "Fuck, bae, I'm gonna cum. You gonna—" she waivers with a grunt, then continues, "you gonna let me cum in you?"

Your arousal allows her to penetrate you insanely deep, even though she shouldn't be able to on a regular, non-drunk sex having day. "Yeah," you moan, your body ablaze with desire, "fill me up."

The room falls silent, save for the embarrassing squelching sounds of your cunt. The sounds your pussy makes are just embarrassing. Like pure water being swished, and you grip her dick so tightly it burns momentarily when her stroke falters back, but it meets your guts again within no time, and all feels way too good again. Your pussy's grip on her tightens, your body craving every thrust she delivers. Paige's hand tightens around your neck, restricting your airflow as she fucks the life out of you. She is genuinely killing you. Stabs inside your cunt, hand around your neck, toned body weighing down on you — petite below her. She's relentless, her motions driving the familiar knot in your stomach to form, but this time, with a little something different about it that you just can't place your finger on. You want to be concerned on why your pre-orgasm phase feels this way, but with each thrust, you can't help but surrender further into the pleasure, neverminding it.

As your climax approaches, you're overwhelmed. Your eyes shut tightly, your world consumed by white light. When you feel it coming, you want to scream, but you can't. Before you know it, your body is involuntarily pushing, and pushing, and when the intensity stops, blending into an orgasm, you realize you've just squirted all over Paige.

She's realized long before you, apparently, because she's left cumming herself with moans and exclamations of, "Aw, fuck, baby, look at that."

You guys have no time to tell each other you're cumming; it's just wet, hot, and heavy, both of your releases coating the sheets and the both of you too. Paige collapses on you, and now you really can't breathe, so you have to use your remaining energy the squirt took to push her off, the strap exiting you with the most empty feeling ever. Your hand, still on your clit, feels all the cum, and you exhale sharply, shocked. Both of your bodies are drenched, covered in sweat.

And as you catch your breath, Paige rolls onto her side, looking at you with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness in her eyes. "Is that attitude gone?" she asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

You meet her gaze, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If I say no, will you fuck me like that again?" you retort, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

Paige chuckles, reaching out to pull you close to her. "Guess you'll just have to find out," she replies, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss.

When you guys draw back, you're panting as you confess, "I can't believe I just... squirted."

Paige raises an eyebrow, offended. "I can. You doubtin' me?"

You've essentially been fucked back into sobriety and know not to test her. "Absolutely not," you assure her, and she relaxes at that. "You're gonna be hella sore tomorrow morning," she teases, "I literally went swimming in that pussy, deadass."

You smack her gently. "Stoppp," you protest.

She grins. "Ion feel bad tho. Maybe next time you get an attitude, you'll think about how dumb I just fucked you." And Paige Bueckers is absolutely fucking right. You will. Attitude or not.

MASTERLIST

A/N: might be some errors in posting and stuff!! i'll correct it later i'm rly tired now lol.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｇｉｒｌ Ｕｎｄｅｒ Ｙｏｕ ♡

♡ Pairings: gynecologist!seonghwa! x chubby!afab!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Scheduling your yearly check up with your OBGYN can be nerve-wracking. Especially when your doctor's Park Seonghwa. Finally getting up the courage to visit, you do all you can to conceal the not so appropriate feelings you have towards him. Not only is it inappropriate but he surely doesn't feel the same. Right?

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has a vagina and identifies as a woman. we're at the OBGYN so this is ultra vagina city. pervy Dr. Park Seonghwa, you too are a perv tbh it's mutual, shy/touch starved reader, body worship, nipple/breast play, fingering (gentle & rough), unprotected sex, cum marking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby, etc), a lil rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), nonsexual use of the word slut (not in a bad way), it gets bitey for a second, examination kink, soft dom Hwa vibes.

♡ A/N: Listen, I can explain. It's all on @anyamaris for encouraging me to begin with. Blame her!

Important note: If you have a vagina go get it checked out regularly. Your doctor will certainly not be Seonghwa dicking you down BUT it's an important and sometimes life saving appointment sooo make it or I'll fight you. K, love you, bye ♡

♡ ♡ ♡ “I wanna be that guy. I'll wreck you right up, guy. I'll lie down face up, guy. The girl under you, guy.” ~ Lady Gaga ~ ♡♡ ♡

“Date of your last period? Any abnormal cramping or bleeding? Any chance of pregnancy?” the nurse fires off questions, tapping your answers into the laptop balanced on her hip.

Sitting on the exam table, your feet dangling off the edge, you try not to get whiplash from how quickly she whirls around the room loading a tray with supplies for your exam. The office is unexpectedly short staffed today, forcing her to play the role of nurse and human octopus. You understand how overwhelmed she must be but pray that she stops soon. Your anxiety was already bad enough coming in here. This nervous energy is not helping. 

“Last question, honey” she says, turning to face you, “Oh, have you been sexually active recently?” She cracks a playful smile, clearly expecting your answer to be something that it isn’t.

“No” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. Look at how shiny those tile floors are. Has this exam table always been this cushy? Such a marvelous generic art print that is hanging by the door.

The nurse’s eyes widen, a hand clutched to her chest in shock, “You went to Coachella and didn’t get laid?” 

“Nurse Kim! Can we not today?” you pout, in no mood to have this conversation right now. 

Being a longtime patient here has a lot of perks. Getting closer to the nurses especially has been great for you. I mean, who doesn’t like getting the appointment slot they want every single time? But the drawback is that they like you enough to pick on you. Maybe it’s their way of breaking you out of your shell, getting you to be less shy, but you wish they wouldn’t. 

Nurse Kim shrugs, miming the zipping of her lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my business.” Placing the supplies on the table, she grabs you a fresh hospital blue medical gown. “You know the deal, right? No shoes, no bra…” 

You nod along with her instructions, hopping down to kick your sneakers off. Finally she finishes and heads for the door to give you some privacy. “The doctor will be in shortly. Let me know if you need anything” she says, stopping halfway out the door. “You really didn’t bang anyone at Coachella. Wow. Girl, you’ve got to learn to live a little. You’re too hot not to slut it up!” 

“Thank you so much for everything. Goodbye. Bye!” you laugh, inching the door shut until she’s on the other side of it. 

Alone at last, you’re able to get out of your clothes and into your gown in peace and quiet. Well, “peace” might not be the word to describe what you’re feeling but at least you’re able to panic in silence. 

You really shouldn’t be as nervous as you are. You’ve been coming to this office for years. Everyone’s kind and welcoming. They always make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. There’s definitely no part of you they haven’t seen so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Still there’s one thing—one major, heart pounding, pulse quickening thing—that makes you too nervous to function every time you’re here.

Your phone vibrates in your purse and you contemplate not answering but dig it out anyway figuring a little distraction can’t hurt. Unlocking your phone, you spot a text from your best friend. 

It reads: “Did you see Hot Doctor yet?” 

You giggle to yourself, typing back to her. “His name’s Seonghwa and not yet. Still waiting.”

“On a first name basis are we? Seonghwa. That’s even hot to say.”

“Dr. Park, I mean. His name is hot to say though. He’s hot. I fucking hate it.”

“Just give him your number already!”

“Sure. While he’s swabbing me I’ll be all ‘Hey, Dr. Park. Wanna go to lunch?’”

Your best friend responds with a meme of Megan thee Stallion sticking her tongue out. “Plot twist. The lunch is between my legs, daddy!”

You’re choking back laughter and tears, scrolling your phone for the perfect meme to send back when there’s a knock at the door. You nearly jump out of your skin, shoving your phone back into your purse. 

“Come in!” you shout, returning to the exam table just in time for the doctor to step in.

Everything moves in slow motion when Park Seonghwa enters the room. Ahem, Dr. Park. He is, as you and your best friend have come to call him, a hot doctor. The hottest doctor you’ve ever seen. His dark wavy hair’s pulled back into a high ponytail, loose pieces hanging to frame a face too gorgeous to look directly at. His bone structure’s immaculate, his lips soft and pink, and his voice… 

“Long time no see. How’s my favorite patient been?” he says, flashing that killer smile of his. That voice. That smile. It makes you want to faint. 

You laugh it off, hoping not to come off as flustered as you are. “Dr. Park, I’m not your favorite patient.”

Seonghwa takes a seat on a nearby rolling stool and spins his way over to you, making a cute woo noise when he does. It gets a giggle out of you which is exactly what he wanted. 

“Who says you aren’t?” he asks, sliding in closer, his hands disappearing behind your legs.

It’s hard to breathe when he’s this close, staring up at you from between your legs. The smell of his cologne dances around you, a sweet woodsy scent that you imagine might smell even better on top of you. Just the thought awakens a familiar tingle between your thighs that threatens to make you wet the crinkly paper blanket beneath you if you carry on like this. You know that you shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a doctor. He’s just doing his job. And here you are perving over him. 

“Dr. Park, anything else you need me to grab?” Nurse Kim asks, popping back into the room. Her appearance snaps you out of your trance and you force a smile to keep things normal. If you weren’t brain rotted and horny you'd swear Seonghwa had been reading your reaction that whole time. That he saw the effect he had on you and seemed somehow amused by it. But that’s factually insane. Get it together. 

The foot rests behind your legs, the reason Seonghwa reached back there to begin with, unfold with a creak. “No, I think we’re good” he answers before turning back to you, “Lay back for me and put your feet up. We’ll be done in no time, okay?” You follow his instructions, laying back on the table, readjusting yourself however he asks you to.

Closing your eyes, you rest your hands on your belly, impatiently waiting for this to be over. Though Seonghwa’s interest in what’s between your legs is purely medical, the fact remains that you hope he doesn’t find it ugly. You shaved for this, used this nice pH balancing rose water soap on it. You did everything but put makeup on it and throw it in a dress. You feel kinda silly now thinking back on it but your brain isn’t exactly logical when it comes to him. 

A few cranks of a speculum and cotton swabs later you’re done with the first part of your exam. “Good girl, you did well. The hardest part’s over” he praises, swapping his latex gloves out for a new pair. Your heart skips a beat at being called a “good girl”. He didn’t mean it that way but your body can’t differentiate between reality and how devastatingly sexy that was. Seonghwa turns to address the nurse and you quickly press your thighs together for some relief.

“I’ll send these off and go set up for the next patient” Nurse Kim says, grabbing your samples. She turns to smile at you one last time before disappearing from the room. “Remember what I said” she whispers, “Slut. It. Up.” Unfortunately, of all the things she’s skilled at whispering isn’t one of them and Seonghwa hears her.

Rising from his seat, he walks alongside you, stopping when he reaches your chest. “Just lower your gown for me for a second.”

You do as you’re told, carefully rolling your gown below your breasts. “So, slut it up, huh? What’s that about?” he teases, cold hands cupping one of your soft breasts. You inhale sharply at the contact, a thankfully normal reaction to cold hands touching you. Though for you it’s more that they’re his hands than anything.

“She thinks I need to get laid” you blurt out, caught off guard by your own bluntness.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, his fingertips pushing gently into your breast. “I’ll have to talk to her about that. She shouldn’t be judging people for their life choices.”

“I mean, it’s not really a life choice. I’m just not…I’m not a girl who…” you ramble, shutting yourself up immediately after realizing what you’re saying. Seonghwa pauses, glancing over at you, two fingers circling the perimeter of your nipple. It stiffens at the closeness, your touch starved body grateful for the attention. 

“Not a girl who what?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely interested.

It doesn’t seem that he’ll keep going if you don’t answer so you give in. “I don’t know, guys just don’t hit on me I guess. I’m not that girl.”

Seonghwa continues his examination, flattening his fingers at the base of your breast and dragging them up to your nipple. They bounce back each time, looking rounder and fuller as if he’s worked some magic on them.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily it” he sighs, moving on to the other breast, “A lot of men are intimidated by beautiful women.” 

Beautiful women? Did Park Seonghwa just call you a “beautiful woman”?

“B-beautiful?” you stutter, at a loss for what to do with yourself, “That’s really nice of you but I’m not…”

Seonghwa can’t help but smile at how adorable you are when he compliments you. You’re as good at concealing it as Nurse Kim is at whispering. Seonghwa knows that you’re attracted to him. To be fair, a lot of his patients are, but you are truthfully his favorite. Always so beautiful, always so easy to tease, and such a pretty pretty pussy that’s always wet for him. 

“But you are” he insists, both hands cradling your breast, thumbs running up the side, “You must have a mirror at home, no?” 

“Dr. Park, are you trying to make me blush?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

The pads of his thumbs graze your hardening nipple and your back arches, a whimper lighter than air escaping your lips. You catch Seonghwa quickly nibbling at his bottom lip, his eyes glimmering at the shock and pleasure painting your face. You caught him. You saw it this time. Really saw it. 

Seonghwa knows he should stop here, end the examination, and send you on your way before he does something stupid. It’s just…that little moan you let out? It’s a melody he’s been fantasizing about since the first time you laid across his table. He has to hear it again.

“I don’t know. Is it, aaah…” he breathes in, one of his thumbs circling the tip of your bud, “Is it working?” 

Slipping his left hand back across your chest, he palms your other breast, pinching your sensitive nipple each time he rolls his wrist.

“Yes, it…oh god…it’s working” you mewl, your mouth falling open, moans pouring out at the perfect volume for only the two of you to hear.

Your feet tremble in the foot rests, your legs still spread to leave your dripping, vulnerable pussy exposed to the cool air of the room. Hypnotized by the sight of Seonghwa playing with your tits, high off the electric current it sends through your body, it’s easy to forget that you actually came here for a reason. 

“I should probably finish your exam” Seonghwa whispers, doing his best to ignore the hard cock pressing against his slacks. Your body may be tempting but it is technically his job to make sure you’re healthy too. His hands gradually cease their movement, gliding down to do away with the gown that was hardly hiding to your naked body.

“Fuck, look at you” he gasps, massaging your squishy belly, tracing your love handles, and rounding the curve of your hip to reach your thigh. His fingers dig into your thigh, savoring their softness all the way up to your core.

His gaze travels back up your body to those starry doe eyes that hang on his every move, “Think I’ll need the lube or are you already wet enough for me, baby?”

Seonghwa rubs two fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal on the tip of his glove. He brings them to his mouth, extending his long tongue to lick your juices up.

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you” he hums, taking his time to enjoy the taste of you on his tongue. 

“Dr. Park, please…” you beg, thighs pressing together again, the need for his touch unbearable. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, his fingers immediately returning to their place between your legs. “You want me to finger that perfect little cunt?” 

“Yes, please, I want…need it so bad.” 

Seonghwa brings his lips to yours, your eyes gleaming with lust as they meet, “You need it, baby? That bad, huh?” 

Two gloved fingers push into you, your pussy welcoming them with the tightest of hugs. “Fuck, yes, so good” you whine into his mouth as you begin to ride his fingers. Seonghwa dips his tongue between your lips, your mouths passionately crashing together. You grab the collar of his white coat, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss as his fingers work your core. Inside of you his fingers stimulate spots men who aren’t in his line of work wouldn’t even know existed. Some you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure until now.

Your eyes squeeze shut, elbows giving out from under you, “Harder, Dr. Park, wanna feel you so deep.” 

Seonghwa catches your head before it can hit the cushion beneath you, lowering it down carefully as he draws another kiss from your lips. “Only if you promise to be a good girl and be quiet for me.” 

“I p-promise. Quiet. I’ll be…” you moan, throwing your hands over your mouth when he suddenly picks up the pace. Shifting between your legs, he tucks a hand behind your right knee and pushes it to your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers locked together to keep you from screaming. Seonghwa’s fingers are much deeper than you thought they could go and his pace is too unforgiving for you to brace yourself for any of it.

“Ssh, ssh, you’re getting too loud, baby” he teases, coming in to kiss your inner thigh. Your juices stream down his fingers, soaking the thin paper beneath you. Hating to waste something so delicious, he begins licking around his own fingers. Between your lips. Around your clit. Anywhere his fingers send it splashing, he licks it clean. 

Your hands begin to slip from your mouth, your poor wrecked little body going too limp to keep it together. Thinking quickly, you bite down on your hand just enough to keep the noise in but you aren’t sure how long it’ll last. You’re dangerously close to coming. You can feel it and Seonghwa does too. Your hole’s so greedy, sucking him in and refusing to let go. It’s just begging to come but he won’t let it. Not like this at least.

Reaching down, he blindly fumbles around with his pants until he feels his cock spring free. He groans into your pussy as he closes his hand around his cock, rocking in and out of his own grip.

“Dr. Park, I’m gonna, mmph, aaah, fuck…gonna come” you squeal, hips stuttering against his face.

“Fuck, yes, come for me, sweetheart” he grins, rimming the head of his cock with his thumb, “You wanna come on my cock?” 

Seonghwa’s proposal has you biting down on your hand hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh god, yes, fuck me please. Fuck me, Seonghwa.”

Popping his fingers free, he grabs you by your legs and drags you down until your ass hangs off of the table. “Seonghwa!” you cry out, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you. That stretch. That one exhilarating, earth shattering stretch, is all it takes to ruin you.

“Mmm, that’s it, come baby. Give it to me” he moans, hips snapping into your fluttering core. You expect, like any other orgasm, for your high to fade after the initial peak but it doesn’t. You’re still there. And your body’s giving out. You brain’s going hazy. You can’t take it but you want to even if it makes you go crazy. 

Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your pretty face, never stop eating up how hot you are when you’re at his mercy. The sensation of his own high crashing down on him has him pushing your thighs together, the thickness of them making your pussy feel twice as tight around him.

“So fucking tight, shit, you’re gonna make me come. Where do you want it?” 

“I, ooh, I want it…want.” The words are there but you struggle so very hard to find them. You dig deep, collecting the strength needed to run your hand down your belly and spread your folds for him. Your voice is so cute and broken when you say, “On me.”

Seonghwa folds immediately, pulling out to coat your clit in the thick warmth spilling from his cock. Stopping to catch his breath, he leaves it there resting against your clit. Both of you twitching together, his seed dripping down your pussy so that no part of you isn’t marked by him. 

“Don’t clean it off” he instructs, kissing down your leg as he places your feet back in the foot rests, “Leave it so you’ll think of me when you’re driving home.” 

Easing your fingers from between your folds, you pop them into your mouth, sucking them like a lollipop. “Anything else, Dr. Park?” 

Seonghwa zips his pants up, searching his brain for any other pressing information. “That depends, are you free tonight?” 

“Hmm, let me think” you muse, staring off into space for dramatic effect. “I can be. That depends on what you had in mind.”

“Well, I was thinking I could pick you up for dinner and then…” He blows you a kiss that communicates his plan wonderfully, “Dinner.” 

You giggle, your sweet little crush on him more severe than ever, “Sure, I’d like that but, hold on, you don’t know where I live.” 

Seonghwa takes his gloves off, tossing them in the trash can by the door. “You’re my patient, remember? I literally have all of your personal information.”

“Isn’t that, like, a violation of patient privacy or something?” 

Seonghwa laughs off your comment, walking over to sneak in a goodbye kiss. “I’ve already violated your privacy once today, sweetheart. Can't hurt to do it again”

[garagepaperback]

What are your favorite drarry fics?

oh. ooooooooooooh oh oh.

here are my staples:

draco, the magic dragon - libbydrew a fic i first read on livejournal (showing off the varnish of my casket here) that i thought about regularly for the almost two decades i fell out of fandom. canon to me tbh. libby invented my draco rubric: proud lil showboat even when everything around him has gone to rancid shit, sarcastic and aloof personality as a poor facade to distract from the big ol' gaping well of hurt.

Potter took a great breath, then let it out slowly – a low whistle between his teeth. "Malfoy, I had no idea. I thought—" "Why are you here?" Draco cut him off before the idiot embarrassed them both. Their shared past was water under the bridge – even if Draco had drowned in it.

nightingale - michi_the_killer

another back-in-my-day fav, even though i can only stand to read half of it. actually even thinking about it is making me stare off in a distance for upwards of three minutes. this one i would hand off wrapped in about a million miles of caution tape. + also a huge fan of michi's gory veela fic.

It was better than fighting, Harry thought, although sometimes he still wanted to rip into Malfoy, to hurt him. Other days, he thought, it was better than anything.

rookie moves - peu_a_peu

what can i say that hasn't already been said - peu is a MASTER. if you somehow know who i am but haven't read this, reassess your life choices through professional means but not until after you dive in.

“Feels kinda big,” Malfoy said, smirking. “For a guy your height.” “My height is average,” Harry said, although he was undeniably glaring upward at Malfoy’s face when they stood so close together. “And it is kinda big.”

stately homes of wiltshire - waspabi another one that crept into my heart and made a home. hard to choose between this and waspabi's other drarry fic, but there's something about the decrepit manor that just does it for me. a perfect harry and draco, perfect soft reaching towards each other.

Draco smiled and dragged Potter from the shop before he could charm any more elderly ladies with his unkept, take-care-of-me-I’m-confused-and-have-nice-shoulders aesthetic. Once outside in the drizzle, he realised he still had his hand around Potter’s forearm. He yanked his hand back immediately.

i wake up falling - warmfoothills

warmfoothills :,) just reading this moniker makes me vision go soft around the edges. their writing has made me out loud, quietly say "oh," multiple times. the prose is darling, this story is such a brief, aching glance. it was also really hard to pick just one (flashback, warm nights i also go in for).

“I love you,” he says, unable to stop himself. Draco blinks, a barely-there flinch, like Harry’s taken a swing at him. “I know,” he says, still oblivious to the reference, oblivious to the way his words scoop right into the meat of Harry’s stupid, hopeful heart. “It’s not enough, is it?” Draco shakes his head. Above, the stars watch unfeelingly on.

the pure and simple truth - lettered no one does dialogue with the mastery lettered does. my GOD. my god. i feel like this fic is drarry perfectly distilled.

“What’s he going to be?” Blaise raised a brow. “Pardon?” “You said he says Hermione should be Minister, and all those other things. What does Malfoy think he should be?” There was something much like pity in Blaise’s eyes. “He thinks he should never, ever be forgiven for the things he’s done.” Harry felt ill. “That’s not fair.” “When has Draco ever been fair?” “I meant―” Harry swallowed hard. “That’s not right.” Blaise looked more pitying still. “When has Draco ever been right?”

far from the tree - aideomai

the writer i avoid talking about the most bc once i start i cannot physically restrain myself from going on about their beauty forever. i sat for forty-five solid minutes frowning, trying to choose between this one and in the hand. and dwelling. okay anyway. i keep a doc of quotes from fics that resonate and it's 50% aideomai.

Draco wondered what Potter thought of this day, in the future the twins came from. If he had told Ginny about it. If he had forgotten it. He couldn’t forget it, could he? It felt burned into Draco’s body already, a final point that he had been moving toward for years without knowing.

i could go on but i think seven is a nice solid number tyvm for this ask!

[ohdeerfully]

Hii!! i’ve never requested smth before but i absolutely adore your lil one shots for alastor and was wondering if you could write smth based on someone’s idea?

https://www.tumblr.com/sockmeat/741700944177315840/alastor-in-rut-but-instead-of-him-being-horny-hes

completely fine if not!! i just thought it was a cute idea and would love to see it wrote in an actual scenario!! :3

this is really simple and short but god writing block is killing me quickly... hope u like it anyway!!!!!! mwah mwah

as stated in the request, this is based off of @sockmeat 's post, which you can access by clicking here!

Jealousy Looks Good on You

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: alastor is super possessive, reader is referred to as female but doesn't really effect story at all, thats it i think

join my discord!

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It was that time of year again for Alastor. A few months of absolute physical and mental torture—which, considering he lived in Hell, maybe that was how Heaven finally managed to torment him for eternity. It never took a genius to figure out what put Alastor in such an odd state.

He was a deer.

Deer go into rut.

It was incredibly embarrassing, to say the least, especially for him when the rut was over. However, for his “mate,” who faced the brunt end of his seasonal affections, you didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, it was probably your favorite three months of the year. 

You were currently lounging in the hotel lobby, chatting with Angel Dust about a bar he was interested in going to. You had one leg thrown up over the other, clad in a dark red outfit that had been “mysteriously” placed on the edge of your bed when you woke up—you knew who the culprit was as soon as you saw Alastor a few minutes later in a suspiciously similar outfit of the same color scheme.

He had been sitting next to you for a while, making small, nearly unnoticeable bids for attention as you tried to focus on Angel’s words. A pressure on your knee with his own, a light graze of his fingers through your hair as he lifted his hand to adjust his monocle… to anybody else, the contact would’ve seemed only coincidental; however, to you, it was obvious considering the great care he always took to mind his personal space.

A brief glance out of the corner of your eye confirmed your suspicions. You couldn’t help but lightly grin at the tense grin on his face and the growing expression of frustration as you continued to keep your attention on Angel.

“–so, that being said, I wanted ta invite’cha out with me! And Cherri’ll be there too,” Your eyes turned back towards the spider. You could nearly feel the tenseness in Alastor’s shoulders heighten, and that radio frequency of his tuning up ever so slightly, but still noticeable.

“That bar is no place for my lady,” Alastor responded in a snap before you could even open your mouth. You whipped your head in his direction with a frown. 

“She isn’t your anything, Smiles,” Angel shot back, also interrupting your own attempt at defending yourself. 

It was almost comical, the way your head twisted back and forth with each remark the two made at each other. The tension was rising quickly, and you were getting more agitated with how many times you got cut off from saying a single word.

You were distracted from your own mental anguish when Alastor abruptly stood, hand gripping his cane with more force than usual. There was a dangerous look in his red eyes as he grinned down at Angel.

“She is mine,” Alastor stated with finality. “And what’s mine stays with me.” He reached down and gripped your hand, tugging you up with him. As angry as he seemed he was still gentle with you, at least. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t find the possessiveness attractive. Heck, it would probably be impossible to date the Radio Demon if you didn’t want to be obsessed over and practically owned. You were only slightly embarrassed at the heat on your cheeks when you felt the almost desperate grip of his on your hand, to which Angel pointed at with a defeated “what the hell.”

He basically dragged you away from the situation, ears slightly pressed back. He refused to look at you as you caught up to his steps and walked beside him. He didn’t have to look at you, though, because you already knew the turmoil that was going through his head.

“Don’t be so embarrassed,” You tried to comfort as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. “I think it’s very becoming of a gentleman to protect his property.” You enjoyed the way his eyes glittered with pride when you referred to yourself in such a manner. You didn’t truly consider yourself property, of course, but you simply enjoyed seeing that look in his eyes and the way his chest involuntarily puffed up.

What a different being Alastor was during his rut. More expression than ever with the way his affections and frustrations were so visible in his body language. He pulled you closer to him, squeezing you against his body as he let the two of you fall into the bed. You lifted yourself off of his chest with an elbow and looked down at him.

He met your gaze with his own wide, needy eyes and quivering smile. To put it simply, he looked… pitiful. Endearing. You loved it. He hated it. You knew if anybody saw him in this state he would go on the attack immediately without a single thought. You briefly glanced back to make sure the door had been locked. Just in case.

You smiled at him and peppered kisses on his chest and up, finally nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. He sighed pleasantly at your motions, swooping his arms up to position you on your side in front of him, wrapping himself protectively around your body.

“I crave you, my love,” He stated in an incredibly forward way. His voice lacked the typical radio effect as he spoke, and you realized your skin was also not prickling with the sensation that usually accompanied his presence. You responded by layering your hands over his own, which was resting comfortably against your waist. “I never want you out in such a… dirty place with that overly sexual spider.”

“I know, Al,” You said with a sigh. “Too many ‘hungry eyes’, you’ve told me this.”

He remained quiet, and you could barely feel the way your hair flicked every time he exhaled against the top of your head.

You also remained quiet, opting to just enjoy the moment. These three months went by so, so fast, so you didn’t want to waste time speaking and bickering over meaningless things. You didn’t care to go to bars, anyway; you weren’t much of a drinker. You also hoped to get Alastor’s mind off of his disdain for Angel. While you trusted him to know better to attack one of your friends—more importantly one of Charlie’s friends—you didn’t want to take any chances. He was somehow even more unpredictable during his rut.

You leaned your head back, tilting up slightly to meet Alastor’s gaze. He placed a feather-light kiss against your forehead in response.

He was in for a long three months, but you were going to enjoy every second of it.

[grandlinedreams]

|| in the same reader setting as [this]

|| warnings: lil bit of angst/self-deprecation, reader has spine, some drama for the sake of it, had Bryce's starlight power in mind w reader

Some days, you wonder why you're here. Objectively, you know why ㅡ but beyond the obvious circumstances, you can't puzzle it out.

Especially as you watch your sisters seemingly click into place. Feyre, of course, has always had a spot ㅡ as High Lady, mate to Rhysand. Nesta has come into her own as well, finding her strength with the Valkyries and Cassian. And even Elain seems more and more comfortable here.

You still aren't sure where you fit in. It's an echo of how it'd once been back home, before all of it ㅡ a careful balance to not take too much, need too much ㅡ to do what you could to help. Unremarkable in all aspects, you suppose, for being Nesta's twin.

Feyre has often likened you to the two sides of the moon ㅡ cut from the same cloth, but so very different.

And the longer that you go in living here, the more it unsettles you ㅡ until it eventually comes to a breaking point of needing to do something.

And you begin watching training sessions. The Valkyries, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel ㅡ it doesn't matter who it is, you watch ㅡ a book in your lap as an excuse. You don't know why you don't want them knowing what you're truly up to, as there's no shame to be had in wanting to defend yourself.

All the same, you don't breathe a word of it to anyone. Your own sessions are self-made, mimicry clumsy and often times uncoordinated ㅡ but you're trying, and that's enough. Illyrian warrior you are not ㅡ but at least it's something.

ㅡ

"Thank-you for coming with me today," Elain tells you as you walk beside her, pace sedate as she glances at the shops to the right, your own attention on the Sidra to the left.

"Of course," you answer, and you can't help but glance back. Several paces away, Azriel trails behind, looking for all the world relaxed ㅡ though you know he misses nothing. Though Elain had asked you to accompany her, part of you wonders if Azriel had been hoping to be alone with her ㅡ you've caught the quiet looks that he's shot her every now and then today.

Sun warming your shoulders, you find your attention back on the Sidra, the gleam of light refracting off the surface. Velaris is beautiful, and you can understand why Rhys worked so hard to keep this place a secret from Amarantha.

"Elain," you begin, "do you thinkㅡ" You cut yourself off, abruptly aware that your sister is no longer at your side ㅡ nor is Azriel behind you. In your absent mindedness, you must have kept walking when Elain hadn't ㅡ and your stomach tightens at the realization that you have no idea where you are.

Stay calm, you think, pushing down the tendrils of instinctive alarm as you try to orient yourself, though none of the buildings are even vaguely familiar. Just how far had you gone?

"Lost?" The voice that speaks from behind you is wholly unfamiliar as you whirl, eyes locking with the deep green of a fae male who approaches you.

"No," you answer coolly, pushing down how the steady rove of his gaze over you makes your skin crawl. "I'm on my way to meet with my sister, actually."

"Oh." He takes another step to you. "Allow me to escort you?"

"No. That won't be necessary," you answer. There's an edge to your tone that you can hear, razor sharp ㅡ and you move to skirt around him. "If you'll excuse meㅡ"

Fingers snap around your wrist, squeezing with enough force to hurt as you're yanked to a halt. Something stirs in your chest. "Let go of me."

"Not until you apologize," comes the rough reply. "I'm trying to be kind, and you're veing rude."

You can feel your skin bruising under his grip, the ache of your wrist ㅡ and your other hand is curling into a fist and snapping up before you truly think about it.

The punch lands against his jaw and he grunts, letting up on your wrist enough for you to wrench it free with a venomous hiss that'd make Nesta proud as warmth bubbles in your veins, licking up your spine as it buzzes beneath your skin. "Get your hands off me."

The male's eyes blaze before he's lunging for you, hand fisting into your hair to yank you back ㅡ and the world splinters into bright, dazzling light. It blazes, burns brighter than faelight with all the warmth of a summer day as you hear the male yelp ㅡ and then you're on your knees, hands aching as you press your palms to the rough stone and struggle to even your breathing.

The sharp cry of your name and the rapid approach of footsteps is the only warning you get before arms are around you, pulling you close ㅡ Elain.

"Are you okay? One minute you were beside me and then you weren't, we were looking everywhere for you and ㅡ oh, look at your handsㅡ" Her fussing is going in one ear and out the other as she coaxes you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to Madja, okay?"

You don't remember much of the trek back, lost in a mute daze that has Elain shooting Azriel a worried look and asking for him to escort you to Madja so she can go tell Feyre what happened.

You're quiet even as the healer looks over your hands, the raw skin of your knuckles and knees where you hit the ground ㅡ and still not a word leaves your lips until Feyre is calling your name, hands on your shoulders.

"Elain told me what happened, but she said there was a burst of light right before they found youㅡ"

"Me," you mumble, cutting her off. "That was me. I think." Feyre stares at you, but you're studying your hands. "It...it came from me."

"Oh," Feyre breathes, then glances at Rhysand, who's watching you.

"It's possible she's yielded her powers," he says. "We'll have to see what the extent of it is, and go from there."

It feels a little weird, being discussed as though you aren't there ㅡ and you're more than grateful when the only one left is Azriel, who watches you as you keep studying your hands.

"...the male who grabbed me," you mumble. "I punched him."

"Good." Azriel's shadows had been the ones to report where you were and what was happening ㅡ and the fury he'd felt had been interrupted by that burst of light. "Don't feel bad for defending yourself."

"That's the thing," you answer. "I don't." Your brow furrows. "I'm not...like Nesta or Feyre, or Elain." You pause. "I don't know what I am."

He knows you mean more than just today, that this has been haunting you for a while ㅡ ever since the events that'd landed you here. He can sympathize, truly ㅡ and then he's approaching to ease your hands apart from where you'd been picking at the gauze over your knuckles.

"You don't need to be anything like them," he tells you, then tenses as you study his hands ㅡ broader than yours and scarred ㅡ and then you slot your fingers between his and squeeze gently.

"I have a question," you murmur, letting your other hand rise to trace a fingertip over his knuckles, seemingly unaware of what the simple touch is doing to him. "I...I've been watching all of you train, but I'd like to actually be taught properly."

Azriel hums. "Cassianㅡ"

"No," you counter, fingers tightening around his. "I want you."

Azriel stills for several long moments where he swears thst his heart stutters, stops, then resumes before he answers. "Okay."

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Dr. Stevens and His Sugar Baby

Warnings: SMUT, Sugar Daddy Erik, Daddy Dom Erik.

Part 7.2

Erik’s Apple Watch vibrated against his wrist. He squinted his eyes, locs shielding his vision. Clearing his scratchy throat, Erik turned over onto his back, bringing his wrist up to end the alarm. His arm flopped down next to him and he swayed his head to see better. His eyes focused on the ceiling, and then he turned his gaze towards Sienna’s sleeping body. 

She was snoring into the pillow. They were both still naked. They had a wild night. The smell of her pussy on his top lip and the wet sheets reminded him. He used all of her holes. They fucked from the bed to the floor. Erik sat up and pulled the sheets back, sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his arms above his head. 

He had a cycling class to attend and he really didn’t want to miss it. He needed a good workout at the gym with no days off. A soft hand smoothed up his spine and Erik turned to grab it, leaning in to kiss the top of her hand. He trailed his kisses up her arm until his lips were on hers. Erik climbed over top of her and they french kissed. 

“Goodmorning,” Erik whispered against her soft lips.

“Morning,” She replied sleepily.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry…”

Erik kissed her nose. 

“It’s okay. I need to take a shower…I want to do a bit of shopping before the trip. I feel like my wardrobe is a little scarce…”

“How much do you want?” Erik arched a brow at her and smirked. 

Sienna tucked her chin and looked away. Erik gently gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Don’t be shy…tell daddy how much you want…”

He pecked her lips while staring her in the eyes. When he pulled away, Sienna made a motion with her hands, her pointer and thumb forming a half circle, demonstrating to him that she wanted a wad of cash. 

Erik gave her a once-over before scooting out of bed. He walked over to his cargo pants, pulled out his wallet, and retrieved a folded stack wrapped in a diamond tennis bracelet. Sienna sat up on her knees, the sheet shielding her beautiful body pooling around her waist. She covered her mouth with her hands and looked at Erik with wide, bewildered eyes. He smiled at her reaction before walking over to her to give her the money. 

“It’s about…five thousand in that stack. I already came prepared, baby girl…”

He helped her put the tennis bracelet on and then Sienna spread the money out on the bed. She looked up at Erik with a big grin on his face. 

“Thank you, daddy.” 

“Anything for you, Princess. I’m gonna get a workout in. I was thinking maybe I could be the chauffeur tonight. You ladies don’t need to drive or spend money on a Lyft. I’ll take care of that.”

Erik kissed Sienna on the lips before gathering his clothes to put on. She watched him get dressed with lustful eyes. Erik knew that look. She wanted him to get in that pussy before he left. 

“Patience, pretty girl. Daddy has a class at the gym today. I’ll give you all this dick later, okay?”

Sienna twirled her erect nipples while keeping her thighs spread wide for him to see her pussy. Erik could only shake his head and lick his lips. She was so tempting. 

“You’re something else, lil’ mama. Make sure you pack for the trip, okay? I love you.” 

Sienna pouted her lip. 

“I love you too.” 

“Come walk me out…”

Sienna climbed out of bed, following Erik out towards the living room. 

“Make sure you text me the location so I can secure a section…”

Erik opened the door and Sienna stood away so she wouldn’t be exposed. Erik grabbed her chin and stuck his tongue in her mouth while his hand popped the under cuff of her booty. Sienna shut the door and Erik headed out to get his things from his place and freshen up. 

He arrived at the gym an hour later, dressed in workout gear with his locs pulled back into a low ponytail. A line formed outside of his cycling class and he greeted everyone before opening the door to let them in. Each person that walked past would give him a high five. It was a class of about twenty people. Erik let everyone get settled while he put on some music. 

“Y’all ready?!” 

A collective ‘yeah!’ Filled the room. He scanned the room, taking in the eager faces—some new. Gripping the handles tight, feet planted on the pedals, Erik started his workout playlist. Three 6 Mafia- Who Run It started playing. Erik warmed everybody up, but his warm ups felt like the actual workout. Sweat poured from his body, drenching his once clean athletic top. This was the ladies favorite part of the class. Watching Erik sweat so they could see his muscles peek through his shirt.

“Focus on that motion, Pam! Not on me!”

Everyone laughed. 

“You’re a distraction, Erik! Stop coming to class looking so damn fine!” 

“I heard that!” 

“She ain’t lying!”

Erik could only laugh. It was cool down time so he allowed everyone to take a water break before they got into the killer moves. 

“I see a lot of improvement in stamina. I know this shit ain’t easy, but I’m happy nobody’s giving up on me. Trust me, it’ll pay off in the end. Let’s go! Thee! Two! One!” 

He walked throughout, clapping his hands, jumping up and down, encouraging his students. 

“BE HUMBLE! BITCH SIT DOWN!” 

He had all the energy in the world. You would think after all the sex he had last night he wouldn’t be able to keep up. The heat turned up and the sweat flowed. During the cooldown period, Erik had his class doing stretches. They finished up and Erik made sure to wipe everything down. Grabbing his things, he left the class to hit the weights for a half hour. As he made his way there, Erik spotted Selena leaving the aquatic center with a young girl. They were both covered up with long t-shirts, her hair wet and slicked back. They were talking closely, neither of them noticing Erik. Erik used the collar of his shirt to wipe dripping sweat from his nose. He hesitated, but ultimately decided to speak to her. 

“Selena.” 

She looked up at him and for a split second, he could sense that she didn’t want to speak to him. She covered it up with a fake smile and a small wave. Her friend, a tall, brown skin girl with hazel eyes, a slim-thick frame, and blonde locs watched the interaction with curious eyes. 

“Hey, Dr. Stevens. How are you?” 

“I’m doing well. You?” 

“I’m good.”

There was an awkward pause. 

“Have you spoken to Sienna?” Erik asked.

“Yeah. She invited me out tonight. Me and my friend here plan to tag along. Should be fun. We need to let loose after all that stress, you know?”

“I agree,” Erik nodded his head, “Well, I plan on being the designated driver. Gotta make sure you ladies get there safely…”

“…actually, me and my friend are gonna meet them there. Figured it made more sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not…”

Erik looked from Selena, to her friend before backing away. 

“Well, It was good seeing you—”

“Wait.” 

Erik paused, looked down at Selena. She approached him like she had something important to tell him. 

“…I thought you might want to know, Lori found out about Sienna and you. Apparently…a friend of yours named DeMarcus told her…I thought you might want to know.” 

Erik closed his eyes and placed his hands on his hips. 

“How did you find out? Did you go to clinicals?” Erik asked.

“I had to stop by this morning to get Lori to sign a few of my attendance papers. She told me about it…she’s not happy…”

Erik shook his head. His chest grew tight with anxiousness. He needed to tell Sienna. Erik should have never said a damn word to DeMarcus. 

“Thanks for letting me know…”

“No problem.” 

Selena walked away to join her friend and they headed towards the women’s locker room. Erik took a moment to calm himself down before heading towards the weights. 

—————————

Sienna practically barged into her apartment with her hands full of shopping bags. She’d been out all day getting pampered and spending the money Erik gifted her. Sienna had a braid appointment that went for five hours and it would have been longer if it weren’t two people doing her hair at once. Luckily, she’d gotten her mani and pedi done days prior. Lash refill and brow wax had been taken care of as well. Not a hair in sight on her body except for the hair growing out of her head. 

Sienna went to work packing her suitcase. Checking the time, it was almost 8 pm and she hadn’t showered or eaten anything. She stuffed whatever else she wanted to bring but didn’t need inside of her large suitcase and zipped it up before slumping over on the carpet. She was exhausted and a yawn escaped her mouth. She didn’t have time for a nap either. Sienna picked herself up from the floor and decided to figure out what she was going to wear so she wouldn’t have to worry about it later.

She wanted to wear something that would draw attention. Maybe something bright. She found just what she was looking for. A neon pink mini dress with a deep plunge. She decided on a pair of all silver, pleasure heels with glitter. Sitting it aside, Sienna made her way into the bathroom to freshen up. Meanwhile, Erik walked in with some takeout food. He’s dressed in a two-piece matching short set, various chains around his neck, finger rings, and a diamond Patek. He had a fresh retwist and his hairline shaped up along with his facial hair. 

Erik sat the food down on the kitchen counter and with a bouquet of lilies in his hand, he went in search of Sienna. She was finishing up in the shower when he’d approached the bathroom door. Erik crept over towards her, pulled the curtain back, and whacked her on the ass. Sienna squeaked, turning to face Erik. He laughed as she flung water at him.

“You fucking scared me, Erik!”

He waved the bouquet in her face and Sienna instantly melted. 

“Aww, baby,” she pouted her lip, “thank you! You know these are my favorite!”

“You’re welcome, baby. Hurry up, I wanna rub you down.” Erik said with a smile.

Sienna’s eyes swept over him. Erik took a step back so she could see him fully. Sienna nibbled on her bottom lip while eye-fucking him from head to toe. She loved his hair, she loved the jewelry and the outfit. He looked so handsome. Always so well put together. She could melt. 

“Damn, zaddy!” 

Erik laughed, “Zaddy?”

“Yeah, ZADDY.” 

“You something else.” 

“Mhm, you’re something else walking in here looking like that. You must want your dick sucked…”

Erik cocked his head to the side and elevated his brows. Sienna turned and arched her wet body, bouncing her soaking wet cheeks. He could see that pussy from the back. Erik tapped her on the ass, tempted to bend her over.

“Hurry up,” Erik commanded, exiting the bathroom. 

He sat the lillies down on her dresser and grabbed her favorite moisturizer and body oil. The water turned off and shortly after, Sienna walked out without a towel. Erik sat down on the bed and Sienna stood between his legs. He started off with her EOS body lotion, massaging it into every crevice. As he did this, he admired Sienna with an unblinking stare. 

“Your hair is so pretty, I love that style on you.” 

He was referring to her Fulani bohemian braids. 

“Thank you. I’ve never had them. Wanted to try something new.” 

“Let me see your nails…”

She held her hands out, Erik taking them into his grasp. She had her nails styled in french with a pearlescent chrome finish. Erik leaned in and kissed her fingers. Sienna giggled when he added a little tongue. 

“Stoppppp, you’re making me wet…” Sienna whined. 

Erik looked up at her. 

“And you’re making me hard…so now we’re even,” Erik popped her on the booty, “Turn.” 

Sienna kissed her teeth and folded her arms defiantly. Erik simply chuckled at her, his large hands smoothing down her back. He knew he had to tell her so he gathered the courage and parted his lips to speak. 

“…Baby girl, I ran into Selena at the gym today.” 

Sienna’s body stiffened. Erik ran his hands over her tension areas, head tilted so he could see her face from his position. 

“What did she say?” Sienna asked. 

“Promise me you’ll stay calm.”

Sienna abruptly turned to face Erik. When she stared down at him, he had this sorry look on his face. Her stomach became knots. 

“What happened?” 

Erik exhaled, “So, remember that friend I told you about last night? DeMarcus?” 

“…yes…”

“Apparently, He talked to Lori about us—”

“Oh my god…”

Sienna backed away. She looked at Erik with a mixture of fear and rage. Erik stood up, making his way over to her. He caressed her arms and tried to catch her eye but she refused to look at him. 

“I told DeMarcus about us, but I didn’t think he would run his mouth to Lori of all people. He hardly even knows her. It’s so weird—”

“But I don’t know DeMarcus. So, therefore I don’t trust him. What did you tell him about us?!”

Erik blinked away from Sienna guiltily. He shrugged, raking his brain to recall what he’d shared. 

“I—I told him that you were my woman. I told him that you’re a nursing student. He pretty much gathered that you’re my sugar baby—”

“So, everything then?” Sienna let out a bitter laugh, “What the fuck, Erik?! What happened to being careful? Lori could go back and tell my teachers and I could be out of a degree! I worked damn hard for this!”

Sienna pulled away from Erik. He was left standing there with a baffled look. 

“Baby, I’ll make it right,” Erik followed her over to her dresser where she continued to apply oil to her skin. That beautiful mocha skin glistened, “I’ll talk to DeMarcus, find out what was said. I’ll even talk to Lori and say that it’s all a fucking lie. Baby, I swear, I’ll fix it.” 

Sienna remained silent. Erik leaned in over her shoulder and peppered kisses along her cheek and neck. 

“Stop, Erik. I’m pissed with you. That’s why you got me flowers, huh?”

“Baby, please don’t be mad at me. I know it’s my fault. I fucked up. I feel like complete shit right now. I don’t want to mess up your career in any way. I’ll do whatever I need to, just please forgive me.” 

Erik pressed his forehead against her shoulder and circled his arms around her waist snugly so she wouldn’t walk away. Sienna scowled at him through the mirror. So many scenarios ran through her mind. An inevitable email from the nursing program. Her program advisor pulling her into the office to ‘talk’. She knew the risks of getting involved with Erik.

 If anything, maybe she wasn’t being too careful herself. Sneaking off to his office during breaks to get throat fucked and pussy fucked. Subtle glances his way whenever she is around him. How she’d eagerly volunteered to do all of his cases. But why would Erik purposefully sabotage what they had going on? None of it made sense. 

“Sienna? Princess?” 

Sienna rolled her eyes, “Yes?”

“I’m so sorry…”

“I know,” Sienna exhaled, “But this can get ugly for me…”

“I’m glad Selena told me. Otherwise we wouldn’t know, right?” Erik said.

“I know, I know…it’s just…I don’t want things to get screwed up. I worked so hard—”

“It won’t get screwed up. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make it right, mamas. I promise. I don’t like it when you’re upset with me…what I gotta do right now to make it better?” 

Sienna tried to fight the urge to smile despite her irritation. He was so attentive. 

“You do so much for me, Erik. It’s okay…”

Sienna rubbed along Erik’s arms. He pressed his lips against her temple and rocked her back and forth. 

“Still pissed with me?” 

“A little…”

Erik poked his lip out and formed a crease in his brows, giving Sienna puppy dog eyes. How could a grown ass man be so adorable?!!! 

“Aight, daddy, I gotta get dressed! It’s getting late.” 

“You’re so addictive,” Erik kissed her shoulder, “And you smell so good,” He turned her and kissed her lips, “And you taste so good,” he attacked her jaw with his teeth, causing her to moan, “And you feel sooo good…”

“Erik,” Sienna stared into his eyes.

“That pussy still nice and wet?” Erik whispered into her ear, his hands rubbing seductive circles into the flesh of her hips. 

“Mhm…”

Erik situated his face against her cheek. 

“I know I’ve said it a million times, but baby…I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

Sienna beamed. Her blush was magnificent. 

“I know we gotta keep it a secret until you walk across that stage, but I can’t wait to show you off to the world. You deserve to be flaunted, not hidden, baby.” 

His lips crashed into hers. Heads swaying left and right, soft lips moving in conjunction, whimpers and moans. Erik picked Sienna up and sat her down on the dresser. He got down on his knees, pried her thighs open, and put his face in her pussy. Sienna placed a hand on the back of his head and watched him eat her pussy. He kept his eyes on her, watching the way her face contorted with pleasure. If he could bottle her scent and taste and carry it with him, he would. 

“Keep still, baby, I’m tryna eat it up.” 

“Mm, eat it up then, daddy,” Sienna said with a seductive tone. 

Erik flicked his tongue with the power of his jaws, making her fat clit swell. Sienna started driving her pussy into his mouth, talking shit to him.

“Yes, suck that pussy, lick it up, don’t stop, put your whole face in it, daddy, make me cum!”

Sienna’s oily cheeks almost slipped from her dresser. Erik’s arms wrapped around her thighs to prevent her from falling and it caused her hips to thrust forward. 

“Look at this pretty puss…”

Sienna’s eyes fell between her legs. She used her free hand to spread her outer lips so Erik could have better access. He went in for more, sucking, licking, and kissing all over her. Sienna’s eyes crossed and almost rolled to the back of her head like the exorcist. The hand on the back of his head tightened, her nails almost digging into his scalp. 

“Oooo, ohhhh, yessss, I’m gonna cum in your mouth—”

With a sharp inhale, Sienna went immobile, thighs quaking, toes curling, and pussy leaking creamy cum into his gluttonous mouth. Her chest grew tight from holding her breath with her release. She finally came down from her high, sharing a knowing look with Erik before giggling. He gave her clit one final kiss before standing. He helped Sienna down from the dresser and her knees almost buckled. 

“You’re gonna make me late!” Sienna shouted.

“I’m not apologizing for that. It’s your fault. I got you some good. Make sure you eat something before we head out.”

“Oooh! Can you bring it to me? Pleassseeeeeeee.”

Erik left the room to retrieve her takeout. It was shrimp tacos. He sat the food down on Sienna’s vanity. Sienna started getting dressed, unable to ignore the hefty tent in Erik’s shorts. He needed to be taken care of. Dress on, Sienna sat down and Erik crouched down to help put her heels on. After strapping the last one on, she started working on her makeup. About thirty minutes later, Erik heard a knock at her door. 

“No, you finish up, I’ll get it.” 

Erik walked out, making sure his face was situated after eating pussy. He opened the door and came face to face with a tall, shapely young woman with hickory skin and an Afro. She wore a skin tight, ombré mini dress colored green and blue, with lace-up, black stilettos. Her pecan-colored eyes widened, expecting Sienna to open the door and not this hunk of a man. 

“Oh? Hello,” She peered into the apartment, “I’m here for Sienna?” 

“Yes, you came to the right place, “Erik stepped aside, motioning for her to enter, “Come in, she’s doing her makeup.”

“M’kay,” She walked in, giving Erik a quick sweep with her eyes, “I’m Denver, nice to meet you.” 

“Hi, Denver, I’m Erik.” 

Denver shook Erik’s hand. She tore her eyes away from him, proceeding to walk further into the apartment. 

“You can go back, she’s decent.” 

Denver made her way down the hall and out of sight. A knock came to the door again and Erik jogged over to open it. This time, there was a woman standing at about 5’5, caramel-complexion, long, sleek, auburn hair, small at the top and heavy at the bottom. She had on a lace, black bodysuit that accentuated her bountiful curves. The natural thickness of her lips made her features stand out more. She blinked her hazel eyes at him and then she smiled, showing a mouth full of braces. 

“Hi! I’m Sadie.” 

“Erik, nice to meet you.” 

“I figured that’s who you were, mhm,” Sadie walked in with a switch of her hips she couldn’t control if she wanted to, “Sienna told me a little something about you, Sir.” 

She must be the friend Sienna went to dinner with last night. 

“Oh, yeah?” Erik replied with a smirk. 

“You’re a doctor, right? Got any doctor friends?” 

Erik laughs, “I do.” 

“Then put me on!” 

Sadie sat her bag down on Sienna’s coffee table and opened it to retrieve a blunt and a lighter. 

“I didn’t offer anything to drink to Denver. Would you like something?” Erik inquired.

Sadie took a drag of her blunt, the room suddenly reeking of sativa. 

“No, I’m okay. Thanks Erik. I’m gonna head back to see what she’s up to. Is it only Denver that showed up?”

“Yeah. Selena is supposed to meet you guys there. I’m gonna be your chauffeur for the evening.” 

“Selena? She’s coming?”

An annoyed look crossed her features. 

“You don’t like Selena?” Erik questioned.

“No. She’s so fake. I can’t stand her.” 

“Oh…”

That stroked Erik’s curiosity. 

________________

“HEY BITCHES!”

Sadie walked into Sienna’s room. Denver was standing in front of Sienna’s mirror fixing her hair and Sienna had just finished spritzing perfume on her pulse points. 

“Hey Sadie!” Denver waved with a big grin.

“Hey boo.” Sienna replied.

“Girl…” Sadie took a seat on Sienna’s bed with her blunt between her fingers, “Your man is FIONE.” 

“Ditto,” Denver looked back at Sadie over her shoulder, “When were you gonna tell me that you got a man?!”

“I planned to tell y’all. All of y’all. I just…it wasn’t a serious relationship at first. He was my sugar daddy before my boyfriend.”

“So, you really manifested it?! Congrats, sis!” Denver cheered. 

“You are so loud. He’s probably out there laughing,” Sadie said with a shake of her head before smoking her blunt. 

“How old is he?” Denver whispered. 

“Forty-five—What?” 

Sienna giggled at Denver’s expression. 

“Bitch…that’s an old man!” Denver whispered harshly. 

“He’s not old! Stop it!” Sadie hissed, coming to Sienna’s defense. 

“I mean—he’s not but like…can he keep up?”

Sienna couldn’t contain her laughter.

“Denver, Denver, Denver,” Sienna giggled, “Girlllllll.” 

If only she knew. 

“I don’t think age has anything to do with how good or bad a lover is in bed. I think it’s entirely the guy and how sexually open and willing he is as a person.” Sadie said. 

“Okay. I see your point. Most older men are more mature, not interested in playing games and usually looking for a serious relationship. They are also more experienced in life and are a wealth of knowledge.” Denver replied.

“He’s so secure. I feel settled in myself around him, you know? This peace and ease makes the relationship so special, especially sexually. I’m not worried that he’s marking me down or analyzing my flaws because I’m damn sure he’s so in awe of every single inch of me…”

Sienna couldn’t help but to smile. She was so happy and so fortunate to have a man like Erik in her life. 

“Preach, sis!” Denver shouted. 

“I’m so happy for you, bitch.” Sadie said, “But let’s change topics, Selena is coming through tonight?” 

Sienna gave Sadie a look. She knew where this was going. Sadie couldn’t stand Selena. Denver knew of Selena but she’d never hung out with her. One look at Sadie, Denver was convinced that Selena was an op. 

“Is she messy?” Denver questioned.

“Messy boots!” Sadie replied.

“Listen, please y’all. No drama tonight. I just want to drink, throw this ass, and have fun.” Sienna announced. 

“We gotchu, sis. For you, I promise I’ll behave. I got a question though,” Sadie put up a single finger with an acrylic duck nail painted red, “Uhm…is your whoopty woo coming out with us tonight? He can be our bodyguard.”

“I don’t think Erik wants to come,” Sienna replied with a smirk.

“You never know. He was sweet to get us a section. I think we should include him in the festivities.” Denver said. 

Sienna twisted her glossy lips in thought. She didn’t have a problem with Erik tagging along. Why not? Denver and Sadie took a Lyft to get to her place. Just then, Erik walked in, Denver and Sadie sharing a look. He grabbed Sienna’s suitcase so that he could load it in the car. Sienna watched him exit the room. It was now or never.

“Daddy?” 

Sadie’s eyes lit up and Denver gawked at Sienna. 

Erik returned to the bedroom.

“Yes, princess?” 

Denver fanned herself. 

“Would you like to join us tonight?” Sienna asked, batting her doe eyes at him. 

Erik glanced at all three of them. His eyes landed on Sienna’s face and then the corner of his mouth ticked up into a dimpled smile. 

“Sure. I’m down. I’m just gonna put your stuff in the trunk. Take your time, okay?” 

“Okay.” Sienna responded with a smile. 

Erik exits the room. Sadie and Denver both look over at Sienna with big smiles. 

“Girl, you secured a REAL MAN!” Denver spoke excitedly.

After grabbing what they needed, Denver, Sadie, and Sienna left the apartment. Outside, Sienna spotted Erik sitting in the driver’s seat of a gray Mercedes G Wagon convertible. He hopped out and opened the door for Sienna, then opened the door for Denver and Sadie. It had that new car smell with warm leather seats. Erik had Ray-Ban aviator shades on with one hand on the steering wheel. 

“Y’all straight?” 

“Yep,” Sienna replied.

“We’re good,” Sadie said.

Erik allowed Sienna to take his phone so she could play whatever she wanted since the Bluetooth was connected. Sienna skimmed through until she found a Megan Thee Stallion and GloRilla song. 

He in love wit’ Glo, never got the cookie but got my name tatted

Erik drove off, the wind causing his locs to blow into his face. Sadie and Denver bounced in their seats, rapping along to the song. Sienna circled her hips, arms up, braids swaying along her back. 

He Don’t wanna be saved don’t save him. That is not my nigga don’t claim him

Sienna took her phone out and started profiling, Sadie and Denver getting into the frame, sticking their tongues out. Erik from time to time would look over at Sienna, chuckling at her. Sienna noticed him staring at her and she blew him a kiss. 

They made it to a red light and Sienna stood up in her seat, arching her back so she could twerk. Erik looked up at her with a smile, taking this moment to rub along her legs. He reached up to give her ass two quick slaps before the light changed. Denver and Sadie hyped her up, ready to get out of their seats to do the same. 

Sienna sat back in her seat, giggling. Erik placed his hand on her thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. The sensation shot straight to her pussy.

“Aight, buckle up, baby. You too ladies…”

“Safety first,” Denver said. 

They fastened their seat belts and Sienna couldn’t keep her hands to herself. She ran her fingers through Erik’s locs, smoothed her hand down his chest, cupped his erection through his jeans. 

“Princess,” Erik called out with a stern voice, “Behave.” 

Sadie and Denver giggled. 

Sienna pouted her lip. She leaned in so that she could talk closely to Erik. 

“I didn’t take care of you earlier after you took care of me.” She whispered.

“Whatchu hinting at?” Erik cut his eyes at her with a brow ticked up. 

She replied with a naughty bite of her lip. 

“In front of your friends though? Lil’ mama…we both know you wouldn’t do it.” 

Sienna’s face flushed and she gave Erik a defiant look.

“You’ll have all this dick when we get back to the spot later, okay?” 

Sienna pursed her lips, “Easy for you to say. After the way you ate my pussy earlier, how do you expect me to behave?” 

“Oooo,” Sadie said. 

“You’ll behave. Because you know what happens when you don’t.” 

Sienna pressed her lips together and remained silent. Denver and Sadie share a look. 

They finally made it to Temple NightClub. They were stuck behind a line of cars for a while before they could make it into the parking garage to find a spot. Erik was able to secure a spot and he parked his G Wagon before hopping out to open their doors. Denver, Sadie, and Sienna walked in front of Erik and groaned when they noticed the line to get inside. 

“Relax, I got it covered,” Erik walked around them, making his way over to a bouncer, “I’m not about to have y’all standing out here all night.” 

They waited and watched Erik with curiosity while he chatted with the bouncers. The imposing men with intimidating faces surveyed them over Erik’s sturdy shoulder. After a minute, they motioned for the ladies to approach the purple rope. One bouncer with tattoo-covered arms unhooked the rope, motioning for them to step inside. They eagerly made their way inside of the club with Erik right behind them. 

A venue for artists, buy artists, Temple Nightclub offers a nightlife experience that is unrivaled in the San Francisco Bay Area. From awe-inspiring, fully immersive state of the art lighting in visuals, to a thumping, custom sound system and multiple rooms of music paired with world class talent, there is a reason Temple Is the number one Nightclub in San Francisco. That

On the street level lives the main nightclub where  guests will find a custom DJ booth, thundering void sound system, and fully-custom 4k High-Definition LED installation that wraps revelers in an immersive visual experience all around them. Surrounding the dance floor are several VIP booths, which offer a high energy experience for guests who wish to be at the center of the action.

Clubbing makes your synapses jump like beans in a tin. Sienna couldn’t be more alive if she were shouting from a mountain top. The music is like a drug that brings her higher, higher until her mind buzzes with pure joy. She felt as if her soul would shine so bright her skin would start to glow, like her aura would become visible. The night was young, Sienna had so much energy she could dance for a millennia and then some more. 

Amongst the many VIP sections, they found where they were going to be. It was one of the best sections in the club. There were luxury, tall, black loveseats with a tufted back and surrounding a low table. Purple LED backdrop uplights gave the appearance of romance while accentuating everything and anyone around them. On the table, two buckets of ice and bottles of champagne greeted them. A hookah was situated in the middle of the table with personal mouthpieces. All four of them scooted around the sofa to get comfortable. 

“Erik! this is so nice!” Sienna was in awe of the section, “Baby! this is so sweet…”

“Anything for you,” Erik spoke into her ear, kissing her cheek.

“Hello!”

A beautiful girl with dewy, deep brown skin, cognac eyes fringed with long lashes, lush lips, a comb-over blunt cut, and an hourglass frame entered their section. She was accompanied by a bartender who brought over some tequila for them to take a shot. 

“I’m Malika! I’ll be your server for the night! Here is the bottle of 42 you requested!”

Malika sat the bottle down with shot glasses. They greeted her with smiles and waves. 

Are you Sienna?!” She pointed. 

“Yes, I am!”  Sienna replied. 

“Are you ready to turn up?! Congrats on nursing school! We have a little something for you later, but for now, take some shots!”

“I'M READY!” Sienna yelled over the music. 

Malika started filling their shot glasses. Denver and Sadie recorded a video, pointing the camera at Sienna while she sat on Erik’s lap with his arm around her waist. Malika offered to record the three of them taking a shot. Erik scooted out of frame to give the ladies some time. They each picked up a glass, toasted, and then knocked it back. Grimacing, Sienna sat the glass down and Malika filled it again, all the way to the brim. 

“SHOT NUMBER TWO!” 

Erik picked up a shot and this time he stood to his feet, Sienna’s eyes climbing the length of his bulky frame until they landed on his handsome face. He held up the glass, his onyx eyes staring at Sienna with so much fondness she could melt into a puddle of her own arousal. 

“To my successful, smart, funny, beautiful, princess. I’m so proud of you, I could say that a million times and I mean every word. I’ve seen you…doubt yourself. I’ve watched you grow confidence in yourself that’s always been there. I want you to enjoy yourself, have a good time with your friends, and make the most of it, baby girl. To Sienna.”

“To Sienna!” Denver and Sadie spoke in unison. 

They all touched glasses and then downed the shots of tequila. Erik wasn’t fazed by it at all. He laughed at Sienna’s scrunched up face from how strong it is. Malika makes her exit for the time being and Erik takes his place again on the sofa. Sienna finds her way onto his lap again. Denver and Sadie started setting up the hookah. Erik caressed Sienna’s back with his hand, staring up at her with a small smile and low eyes. 

“Stop staring at me like that,” Sienna mouthed.

“Make me.” Erik mouthed back. 

He pointed his finger at another shot that Sadie held out for her to take. Sienna accepted it and she tried to prepare herself. Erik’s fingers gripped her waist firmly while he took the shot from her hand, instructing her to tilt her head back. 

“Okay! I see you, Erik!” Sadie yelled.

Erik feeds Sienna the drink. She swallowed it all down and Erik used his thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth. Sienna took that opportunity to suck on his thumb. Erik raised a brow at her and licked his full lips. 

“How is it that I’m feeling that tequila already?!” Sienna spoke loudly.

“Because, you’re a lightweight!” Erik jokes.

“Shut up!” Sienna poked her tongue out at Erik.

He shocked her when his hand cupped the back of her head and he brought her face closer to his. Erik sucked on her tongue while staring into her eyes. Sienna was frozen with lust. Denver watched with the tip of the hookah suspended in front of her lips. Sadie’s mouth dropped open for the millionth time that evening. 

_______________

The music was almost deafening. After an hour, Denver, Sadie, and Sienna were on the dance floor. Strobe lights and colored lights of various colors moved across their bodies. 

Sienna gazed across the dance floor and up into their VIP section at Erik who was leaning over a railing that separated them, a drink in his hand as he watched them from afar. The liquor gave Sienna a sudden burst of courage, the thrumming rhythm of rap music whispering into her ears. Body covered in a sheen of sweat, feet sore, heart racing, Sienna moved her body. She bent her body and got low to bounce her twin globes. Denver and Sadie hyped her up with clapping and ass-smacking. 

Sienna sprang back up again, so quickly that she got whiplash. She threw her arms out and waved them from side to side, perfectly in tune with the beat, her ass having a mind of its own as it moved with little effort. From all that motion, her mini dress had ridden up her shapely thighs and sat just beneath her butt. One sudden movement and she would expose her backside to everyone. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers and she spun around to see who it was. It was a very attractive guy who looked to be in his mid 30s, 6’0 with eyes that reminded her of gold. He scooted closer on the crowded dance floor to get behind her, but Sienna moved her hips away before he could even try it. The guy licked his full, pink lips before leaning in to whisper to her.

“Seductive,” He said with a hushed tone, cologne so strong it burned her nose.

“Thank you,” Sienna looked up and noticed Erik wasn’t there. She felt a jolt of panic, “We can’t dance.” 

“Why not?” He inquired, insistent with his flirting, “You’re so damn beautiful and that body is bangin’…”

“It is, isn't it?” 

Both pairs of eyes focused on Erik. He stood at 6’3 almost 6’4, with a stony expression and hard eyes. Sienna looked between both men, stomach doing flips. Erik pulled Sienna into him and crashed his lips against hers in a sloppy tongue kiss. He broke the kiss with a wet smack and both hands cuffing her booty. Sienna was in a trance as she stared into Erik’s eyes. 

“My bad, cuz. I didn’t know this was all you…”

He walked away and disappeared within the crowd. Erik cocked his head to the side as he stared down at Sienna.

“You scared him off,” Sienna said with a sly smirk.

“You know how I get about you. So, don’t make me mad.” 

Erik looked Sienna up and down, taking his place behind her. Denver had Sadie bent over grinding on her, men watching from afar with envious eyes. The music became more uptempo, which required faster movements. Sienna started throwing ass on Erik, so hard he had to grip her hips because she almost knocked him back. 

“Damn, lil’ mama!” 

Erik gripped her braids into a ponytail and started working his toned hips and thick erection between her cheeks. Visions of him pounding her ass from behind hit her at full force. Their bodies were covered in sweat and it wasn’t just the heat. The lust and love they had for each other had a lot to do with it. Dipping his hips, Sienna looked back at Erik, catching his eye. He tightened his fingers on her hips as he thrust forward, her dress riding up past her ass. Sienna, tipsy and a little disoriented in her heels, turned to face Erik, bringing one leg up to wrap around his waist while she rolled her hips against his. His strong arms wrapped her tight and then he picked her up, bouncing her on his groin. 

“Oh, shit!” Sadie shouted drunkenly.

“Get it! Get it!” Denver yelled.

Erik put Sienna down when she started attacking his neck. He fixed her dress and tapped her on her booty. They were in the middle of a crowded dance floor. He was so close to bending her over, pulling her panties to the side, and thrusting deep inside of her. 

“We gotta behave, baby. Let’s get back to the section…”

Hand in hand, they made their way towards the VIP section, Denver and Sadie in tow. When they arrived, Erik helped Sienna into her seat. 

“Whew! Those shots crept up on me!” Sadie said.

“So, are you quitting tonight or nah?!” Denver asked.

“Hell nah! Bitch! I’m finna’ turn up!” 

“I think I sweated those shots out! I need another one!” 

Erik squinted towards the sea of people on the dance floor before pointing his finger in recognition.

“Isn’t that Selena?!” 

Sienna followed his finger and sure enough, Selena and a girl she recognized were being led towards their section. Selena wore a lavender tube top with a matching maxi skirt and white heeled sandals. Her long, wavy hair was styled in a wash and go. She wore silver hoops in her ears with silver bangles on her wrists. Her peanut butter skin shimmered beneath the lights the closer she got. The girl that accompanied her was short and petite, hair styled in platinum blonde faux locs, and dressed in a leopard-printed leotard with black wedges. Her cinnamon complexion popped with her hair color. 

Selena climbed the short set of stairs that led into the VIP section. Sienna stood up to give Selena a hug. They smiled brightly at each other, Sienna pulling her into a tight hug. Meanwhile, Erik noticed Selena giving him a pointed look with eyes unblinking. She turned away to introduce Sienna to the young lady she came with, a chick named Ivory. Sienna turned, leading the way towards a spot for them to sit. 

“Selena. How are you?!” Erik greeted her. 

Selena stepped over his legs, completely ignoring Erik’s greeting. Puzzled, Erik blinked away and said hello to her friend instead. Ivory gave him a small smile and then her eyes lit up in recognition of him from the gym. She waved and took her spot next to Selena. Erik turned his attention back to his drink, unfazed by Selena’s rudeness. That was until Sienna spoke.

“Selena, did you hear Erik saying hello?!” Sienna shouted over the loud music. 

Startled, Selena pressed her lips together before shaking her head no. She looked over at Erik and gave him a quick wave. He waved back, noting the lack of enthusiasm in her face and her body language told him that she was very unhappy he was there. 

The crowd parted to make way for Malika and a few others carrying a big sign that read ‘CONGRATS SIENNA!” With two bottles raised in the air, sparklers sticking out of them. Sienna’s mouth fell open and she looked over at Erik with wide eyes. He chuckled at her expression before pulling her in to kiss her lips. Sadie and Denver had their phones out to catch the moment. Selena was all smiles. Ivory sat awkwardly with a smirk while playing in her hair. 

“THANK YOU, DADDY!” 

Sienna wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck and pressed her lips against his. Selena looked away, picking up the bottle of ‘42 to pour herself a shot. She made one for Ivory as well and they toasted each other before drinking it down. Sadie and Denver were whispering to each other, gossiping about Selena no doubt. 

After a few more shots, the ladies left the section to hit the dance floor again. Sienna was feeling good. Selena hyped up Sienna, dancing hip-to-hip with her. They twirled, recited lyrics, and shook ass. Selena must have had drinks before she arrived, because she was the most drunk out of all of them. As she danced, she was unsteady on her feet, ankles moving like Bambi. Her speech was slurring, clothing and hair disheveled, and she kept staggering, Sienna constantly grabbing a hold of her so she wouldn’t fall. 

“Damn, bitch!” Sadie scowled at Selena when she bumped into her hard. 

“It’s all good! Selena, you are tore up!” Sienna said.

“I told her not to drink too much since we were coming here!” Ivory said.

“IM GOOD! STOP TRIPPING!” 

She was far from good. Denver tried to calm Sadie down. 

“Chill, Sadie! It was an accident, damn!” Selena shouted. 

“Bitch, I don’t care!” Sadie screamed.

Selena rolled her eyes and turned around. Out of nowhere, she circled her arms around Sienna, swaying her from side to side. Ivory stood off to the side, watching them with a blank expression. Sienna sensed that Ivory wasn’t feeling Selena throwing herself at her. Sienna tried to peel herself away from Selena, laughing it off. 

“Girl! It’s too hot for all this!” Sienna yelled.

“But I love youuuuu! You’re my everythinggggggg!!”

Selena kissed Sienna’s cheek softly. 

“Selena, you’re doing too much!” Ivory shouted angrily. 

Selena laughed. 

“Maybe we should go back to the section!” Sienna said. 

Tensions were escalating. She knew Sadie didn’t care for Selena, but the constant grinding and flinging herself all over Sienna in front of Ivory who apparently is Selena’s date was awkward and disrespectful. 

“Everything okay?” 

Erik noticed the look on Sienna’s face. She was bothered about something. Before she could even respond, Selena spoke. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a girls night out?!” 

Erik cocked his head back. What the hell is her problem? 

“We invited him out!” Denver shouted with an attitude. 

“And he’s the one that paid for all this shit by the way! So you should be thanking him!” Sadie yelled angrily. 

Selena turned her nose up. Sienna cut her eyes at Erik, her entire mood sour because of Selena. It became obvious that she got herself drunk on purpose. Too bad it backfired. 

“Why do I feel like there’s an issue?!” Sienna questioned. 

“I mean, I’m just saying!” Selena spoke to her defense. 

“Say thank you to Erik, Selena!” Sienna ordered. 

Selena scrunched her face. 

“Thanks…”

Erik ignored her dry, fake ass thanks. Ivory had an embarrassed look on her face. 

“Sienna, don’t even trip! This is supposed to be your night. Don’t let this girl piss you off!” Sadie said.

“Selena, do you want me to get you some water?!” Erik asked.

“No, Dr. Stevens. I’m good.” She replied bitterly. 

Erik pressed his lips together. Sienna was growing tired of Selena’s nasty attitude. Erik was being a gentleman when he could have been just a rude if not worse.

“Okay! What the fuck is going on?! One minute we’re good and now all of a sudden you have an issue with Erik! Like, he saw you at the gym earlier and he was saying how he appreciated you for letting him know about Lori! What changed?!” 

“Sienna,” Erik placed a hand on her knee, “Calm down.” 

“I’m just asking questions!” 

“This turned into some shit quick! I told you!” Sadie said.

She was correct, it’s as if Selena was on a mission to ruin Sienna’s night out of jealousy. Sienna knew that Selena could be a sloppy drunk, and she usually didn’t get upset or annoyed about it, but she felt sorry for Ivory. She definitely dragged her along to make it seem as if she was over Sienna. It was very clear she wasn’t. 

“I just find it weird that this grown ass man has an interest in you! Especially since he was rude to you from the beginning!” 

Sienna’s face contorted with rage. Erik leaned forward to talk to Selena.

“Hey, you need to relax. You’re being disrespectful right now—”

“Whatever. I thought she would dump your old, weirdo ass but boy was I wrong!” 

“Why would you even think that—”

Erik put up a hand for Sienna to stop talking. He had the answer to that. Erik gave Selena a knowing look. 

“You lied about DeMarcus, didn’t you?!” 

Selena rolled her eyes away from Erik. 

“What?! YOU LIED?!” Sienna screamed.

Ivory even had to look at Selena like she was crazy. She looked crazy. That alcohol turned her into a completely different person. 

“ANSWER ME, SELENA!” Sienna yelled.

“FINE! YES! I did. So what?! And your friend is a fucking creep! He followed me around, asking me questions about myself and if I knew you! Just a bunch of weird ass men!”

Sienna shot up out of her seat, bumping the low table with her knee, causing a drink to spill to the floor. Denver and Sadie were up on their feet, ready to come to Sienna’s defense. Erik stood up and grabbed Sienna’s arms, trying to keep her away from Selena. 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! WE’RE DONE! FUCK YOU!”

“I already did that, remember?!” Selena fired back. 

Ivory gave Selena a dirty look. She was out of her seat and leaving the section so fast, Selena didn’t have time to see it coming. 

“It’s time to go,” Erik announced, “C’mon—”

“No, Erik!” 

Sienna tried to escape Erik’s hold on her but he was stronger. 

“I wish you would have stayed your goofy ass where you were! Messy ass, bitch!” Sadie screamed. 

Denver stood between her and Selena. Selena was doubled over with laughter at Sadie. 

“It ain’t worth it!” Denver shouted.

Erik’s eyes spotted security on their way towards them. 

“We gotta bounce, baby girl—Sienna,” Erik had to force her to look up at him with a grip of her chin, “LETS–GO. I’m not gon’ repeat myself. Fuck her.” 

“FUCK ME! I can air all this shit out!” Selena yelled.

“LOSE MY NUMBER! No, Erik! Let me go!”

“I said no! We’re leaving,” Erik snatched up her bag, “I’m not gon’ let you make a fool of yourself. Leave her ass where she’s sitting—”

Sienna reached for a cup of liquor and threw it in Selena’s direction. Erik felt the contents spill on him as he tried to stop her. Some of it landed on Selena’s clothes. She finally stood up, pulling out her phone to get her a ride. Erik was in a state of confusion and anger. Just that fast, in an hour, the fun they were having was gone. It happened in such a flash. 

“DENVER! SADIE! LETS GO!” Erik yelled to get their attention. He was commanding them too like he was their daddy. 

They walked away so fast. Security walked into their section to intervene.

“Y’all gotta go,” One burly security announced with a forceful motion of his thumb. 

“We’re good, homie. We’re on our way out. No need,” Erik put out his hand, “We can see ourselves out.” 

“It’s policy for me to walk you out, bruh.” The security quipped with an attitude.

Erik didn’t respond. There was no use in igniting the fire. Selena had already left at some point. Erik allowed Denver and Sadie to walk out first. He still had a hold on Sienna. She was silent, but her face held so much rage. They made it out of the nightclub and Erik stood with Sadie and Denver, making sure they got into their Lyfts safely, asking them to text Sienna that they made it home. When they left, Erik and Sienna entered the garage. 

________________________

Silence.

The entire ride back to Erik’s place was quiet. Sienna’s head was turned away from Erik. She was staring out of the window in deep thought. The silence followed them until they entered his penthouse. Erik offered to help Sienna out of her shoes. He crouched down while she balanced herself on the wall. 

“Go upstairs and get comfortable. I’ll be up with some water.” 

Sienna didn’t say a word as she slipped past Erik and towards the stairs. Exhaling, Erik pinched the bridge of his nose to calm his rising headache. He dragged himself towards the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab some water. Erik climbed the stairs and as he entered his room, Sienna had taken off her dress and slipped on one of his shirts. Erik watched her closely as she approached him, accepting a bottle of water. Her gaze was cast down as she walked over to his bed to take a seat. Erik decided to break the ice. 

“…Do you wanna talk about it?”

Sienna shrugged. 

“What’s there to talk about? All it’s gonna do is make me wanna leave and beat her ass. You should have let me beat her ass…”

“What good will that do? Huh?” 

Sienna rolled her eyes towards the high ceiling. 

“What? Tell me. You fight her and then what?”

“I don’t know! It would have felt good to drag her! She was being rude and nasty towards everybody!”

“I know, I’m just saying. It’s better to walk away and let her look stupid. Trust me, I have a short fuse. It took me a long time to get over that. I’d rather you walk away and be the bigger person. Trust me, that liquor will wear off and she’ll realize how stupid she looked.” 

“Easily said than done. I can’t believe I even allowed myself to get involved with her. I should have listened to Sadie.”

Erik started to undress. 

“What if she says something? What if she tries to get me kicked out?” 

Sienna covered her face and groaned. Erik tossed his clothes into a bin and walked over to sit next to her. In just his briefs, Erik draped his arm around her and pulled her in close. 

“Baby girl, you’re graduating. Nothing's gonna stop you from making that happen…”

Erik pressed his lips against her forehead.

“I don’t want you to get yourself worked up over this.”

Sienna peeled herself away from Erik. She released a shaky breath, one of her hands coming down to rub her sore knee. 

“I need a shower…”

“Then let’s shower,” Erik stood up, holding his hand out for Sienna to grasp, “C’mere…”

They walked hand in hand into Erik’s master bathroom. He had a double sink vanity with Black finishes that inspire a unique sense of luxury, and a round, double mirror that added a designer touch to the contemporary aesthetic. He had a separate wet and dry area that created a more neat and better layout, dividing the toilet, shower, and vanity. He had a corner shower with glass doors and a sleek tub. 

Erik turned on the shower and opened the glass door. He helped Sienna out of the shirt and brought her braids up into a bun. When the water became hot enough, they stepped inside. Their skin felt tacky from all the sweating and Erik reeked of liquor from it spilling on him. With a soapy sponge, Erik cleaned Sienna off. 

“…I’m sorry.”

Erik met Sienna’s shameful gaze.

“You probably think I’m immature…”

Erik blinked his eyes away to focus on cleaning Sienna’s breasts. He squeezed the sponge to allow the soap suds to drip down her body. 

“No. I think you’re a hot-head and a brat. Immature? Far from that…”

Sienna tucked her chin and smiled. 

“Thought I was gon’ have to spank you for not listening to me.”

They locked eyes again and Erik’s brows rose in warning. He forced her to place her back against the shower wall and slightly spread her legs. He switched to a white cloth and used some of her feminine soap to clean her pussy. 

“I would never steer you wrong, Sienna. Look at me…”

She obeyed him and looked up into his penetrating gaze.

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to control you. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have your own sense of direction. I want you to see me as your equal. With sex, it can be different,” Erik grabbed the detachable shower head to rinse her off, “I know how much you love it when I dominate you. But, I don’t want you to think for a second that I want to control every aspect of your life. You’re a woman…an independent woman…and I don’t want you to forget that…”

“…I really appreciate that, daddy. It means a lot…”

Sienna reached out to caress Erik’s cheek. 

“I love you.” Sienna said. 

“I love you too, beautiful.”

Sienna scrubbed Erik’s back with the sponge, unable to stop herself from kissing him along his spine. She stood back and Erik finished cleaning himself off. He put his face under the filtered shower water, Sienna’s eyes following the path the water took over his body. Erik faced her, smoothing his dripping wet locs back from his face 

Between his thighs, his big dick was at full attention. Sienna wrapped her hand around him and started slowly stroking him. 

“You couldn’t wait.” Erik said. 

“The way you ate my pussy…I couldn’t go without returning the favor.” Sienna spoke with a hushed voice laced with desire. 

“Do you think you deserve this dick in your mouth? Hm?” Erik said, voice husky and low, dripping with lust and desire for her. 

“I know I’ve been a bad girl, but I need that dick.” 

Sienna still had a hold of Erik’s dick as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. Erik brought one hand around to cuff her ass while his other hand held her chin. They touched tongues and nibbled on each other’s lips. Sienna started stroking Erik’s dick with a twist of her wrist. He was so hard in her hand. 

“Damn, baby,” Erik looked down at Sienna’s hand wrapped around his veiny girth, “I need you on your knees right now.” 

Sienna giggled, releasing Erik’s dick for now while he turned off the water. They left the shower, grabbing fluffy white towels from a towel warmer in the bathroom. After drying off, they left the towels on the floor in a pile and made their way into the bedroom. 

Erik fell backwards into the bed, the cool sheets against his back smelling like fresh linen. He crooks his finger for her to come throat his dick. Sienna crawled over, the sight of how long and thick he is astounding her. That thick pipe made its way into her hand again and then she eagerly fit him into her mouth. Her lips tightened and she hollowed her cheeks to suck. The humming from her throat mixed with her sucking caused Erik to grunt. 

Sienna was arched over his lap with her ass in the air. He sat up on his elbows, one hand reaching out to pop her on the ass hard. 

“There you go, that’s how you suck this dick, baby…”

Sienna turned her head so that she could stare into Erik’s eyes while his dick curved down her throat. 

“You know that shit drives me crazy, right? Staring at me with my dick in your mouth? Makes daddy so fuckin’ hard and ready to fuck, baby…”

Saliva covered his balls in thick globs with lots of bubbles. She moaned on a loop with a throat full of dick. Erik’s free hand spanked her ass, causing her cheeks to jiggle and that pussy to drip. 

“I’m fucking that pussy good tonight, lil’ mama.”

It was a definite promise. He always knew how to handle that pretty, little pussy, but she was doing oh so well deep throating him like a good little bitch. He couldn’t wait to get in that pussy all over the bed. 

“You told Selena I was mean to you?” 

That startled Sienna. She popped her lips off of his big dick and stared at him with sorry eyes.

“I did—it was before I got to know you, daddy.” 

“Hm…I know you liked it.” 

Erik grabbed her hair and pushed her down on his dick again. 

“You loved it, actually…you love my aggression.”

He was right. As much as she complained about the way he would talk to her, it turned her on. She wanted to know who the man beneath the surgical mask was. When she discovered that it was him, she couldn’t deny her desire even if she tried. It was fate for them to meet. She sucked him harder.

“Fuck, Princess,” Erik threw his head back, “I’m cumming…”

She sucked heavy on Erik’s dick, turning up the tempo, slurping noises getting louder and louder. She wanted that nut badly. Tears in her eyes and a sore jawline, Sienna deep throated Erik and he gripped the back of her neck, thrusting up into her mouth with three quick pumps. His warm cum filled her mouth. 

“Shit, baby,” Erik’s body tensed from Sienna slurping on his tip, “Ain’t no more, you drained me.” 

Sienna’s lips popped off and the feeling caused Erik shiver. Erik sat up and he motioned for Sienna to sit sideways on his lap. Brick hard, Erik instructed for her to spread her legs so he could have access to her pussy. 

Dripping wet just like he wants. Erik spanked her pussy before inserting two fingers. A crease formed in her brow and she pressed her forehead against Erik’s cheek. 

“No, look through the mirror,” Erik tilted his head towards a large mirror hanging across from them, “I want you to watch how I finger-pop this gushy pussy.” 

“Unh,” Sienna chewed on her bottom lip, “Daddy, that feels so good.” 

“Keep those legs open, girl. If it feels good you’ll listen to what I tell you to do so you can get some more…”

Sienna looked down at Erik with a pout of her lips. He closed the space between them and kissed her deeply while his fingers continued digging in her hole. Sienna broke their kiss when Erik’s fingers brushed over her spot. 

“I feel that pussy gripping…you can’t take it, baby?”

One of her hands collided with Erik’s well-toned abdomen, her nails dragging down his eight pack. She writhed, moaned, whimpered, and begged for him to make her cum. 

“You know we’re in for a long night, baby girl. I gotta make sure this little pussy can handle all this dick. I gotta open you up some…”

“Oh, fuck!” Sienna couldn’t watch anymore. Her head went back and she moaned towards the ceiling. Liquid streamed from her and all over Erik’s thighs. 

With a deep grunt, Erik placed Sienna on her back and shoved her pliable legs back so he could lick her up. His tongue twirled on her pussy directly over her sensitive bud. Her thighs bounced out of her control, unable to escape his insistent tongue. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Her hips levitated from the bed with her release. Her soft moans were music to his ears. Erik released her legs and kissed his way up to her mouth. With a hand around her neck, He controlled their kissing. Erik could feel his dick throbbing. The tip of his dick leaked pre cum onto the bed, preparing for another release. 

“I need you to arch yo’ back, princess,” Erik sat up to give her space to turn, “That ass was looking good all night I need you like this.” 

The growl in his voice told Sienna all she needed to know. 

“Face down, ass up?” She spoke seductively with a tease of her tongue dragging over her top lip. 

“Just like that. Ass up and pussy open…”

“You know that big, daddy dick gotta fit in me to open me up…”

Sienna reached back and wrapped her hand around Erik’s dick, angling the head to her wet hole. Sienna turned her head sideways to watch Erik fuck her. She loved to watch Erik during sex. His beautiful, built body with muscles. 

“Fuck!” Sienna’s back flexed, “Big ass dick!” 

Erik’s hand moved back and forth, popping her on that beautiful ass. The visual of his long dick stuffing her pussy from the back almost took his breath away. She had a tight hold on him. 

“This pussy gets better and better each time I fuck you, girl,” spanking her again, Erik gripped one hefty cheek, spreading her apart so he could watch his dick go in and out slow.

“Uh-huh, feel every fuckin’ inch of this dick…”

“Yes, go deeper…please….”

“Beg better than that, little slut. Where…do you want…this daddy…dick?”

He thrust forward and held himself all the way in. Sienna whimpered at the sensation. With tiny, pulsing, thrusts, Erik made her squirt. Leisurely, his dick left her pussy, a nice creamy coating on his length making him smile.

“Please, I want to feel every i–inch of y–you. Fuck me hard…”

Without warning, Erik started clapping Sienna’s cheeks. It dragged a deep moan from her lips and a spike of pleasure that had her gripping that big dick with a strong hold of her walls. Erik had that ass moving with a full on bounce. Each thrust Sienna could feel in her stomach. Each pound her body moved back and forth across the bed. Her pussy was so wet that it sounded like Erik was thrusting his dick into a puddle. 

“Damn, baby girl, take this fuckin’ dick!” Erik’s hand found its way around her braids again, “Didn’t I say I was gon’ fuck you good, huh?!!!”

“s—so much–d–d–diccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!”

He knew and he wasn’t going to stop. It felt too good. 

“This lil’ pussy feeling good, girl! Tell daddy something! Closed mouths don’t get fed, baby!” Erik barked out.

“I want you t–to make me c–cum!” Sienna cried out. 

That round ass thrust back on his ten inches crazy wild. She didn’t know whether to run or take it. 

“Erik! ERIK! Errrrikkkkkk Erik! Erik!—”

“Don’t act like you can’t take dick, Sienna. Open that pussy up and take these strokes to that young pussy!” 

That did it. Whenever Erik talked like that he had her leaking all over herself and his dick. She went flat against the bed and Erik slipped out to give her a chance to breathe before he picked her up and dropped her down on his dick again. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” 

“Yes,” Sienna sat up on her knees, “Daddy, can you kiss my pussy?” 

She rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Erik was down on his knees and he stared at her swollen lips and soaking wet folds. He beat her pussy up. Closing his eyes, Erik peppered soft kisses on her pussy. A soft sigh escaped her mouth. His kisses turned into slow, gentle sucks. 

“Oh, my gosh…”

She shook her head as her hand combed through his locs.

“Don’t fight it. Give it to me…”

She gave in and closed her thighs around Erik’s head. 

“Good girl…”

Erik sat up on his knees, dick poked out menacingly. 

“You still gotta take care of me, princess. Just lay on your back, daddy gotchu…”

Sienna crawled to the top of the bed and Erik positioned himself between her legs. As soon as he spread her thighs, she whimpered. Erik had all the energy and stamina in the world to keep fucking her. He placed her legs over his shoulders, leaned over her body, and sank back into her pussy. Her pussy practically swallowed him. Each time he thrust inside of her, his hips would smack against the back of her thighs loudly. It’s a lengthy, harsh fuck. Slow on the pull out, and hard on the intake. 

“Unh…Unh…Unh…Unh…” 

Staring at her with her breasts squished together, hard nipples begging to be sucked, Erik couldn’t help but to lick and nibble. After all, they were right there for him to enjoy. He would suck her nipples back and forth, the added sensation too much for her to handle. But, she had nowhere to run. 

“Erik, oh my fucking goshhhhhh,” tears rolled into her hairline.

He ignored her cries and with his lips tugging on her left nipple, his hips rocked into hers, feeding her pussy big dick. It was the way he hit her spot each and every time. His locs ticketed her face and his sweat mixed with her sweat created delicious friction. Her pussy was so wet, Erik’s dick was a blur going in and out of her with no restriction. She was creating a creamy puddle beneath her ass. 

“Don’t you fucking stop!” 

Erik sat up and held his weight up with his fists. He did this roll with his hips that drove Sienna crazy. She lost it.

“FUCK—ME!” Sienna shouted with a shaky voice, eyes on his dick moving in and out of her, “SO—GOOD!”

“Look at this good pussy! You want me to really get in this pussy?!” Erik spoke with a gruff tone. 

“FUCK—ME—YES!”

“Ugghhhhhhh—”

Erik’s hips seized, he was about to cum. His abdominal muscles flexed with each thrust. Erik was locked in an intense staring match with Sienna. His mouth unhinged and his eyelids fluttered, losing the battle. He gave Sienna two deep, long, gut-feeling thrusts and then that feeling crept up his dick and made his balls tighten. Sienna clawed his back, Erik so close to cumming deep inside of her if it wasn’t for his immense strength. He pulled out and his cum painted her pussy and stomach. 

Erik sat back on his haunches, trying to catch his breath. He looked at Sienna, watching her clean herself off. 

“Come clean this dick off.”  Erik spoke between breaths.

Sienna was right on his dick quick fast with a wiggling tongue. Erik slapped his dick on her lips and tongue a few times to drain himself completely. 

“You weren’t playing when you said you were gonna fuck me all over this bed,” Sienna gave Erik a weak smile and then she collapsed onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, the night is still young. I got more for you.”

@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics

[jammydodger3579]

Young Lust pt. 2

Summary: Y/N needed a break from thinking about Logan... (no spoilers hehe) Read part 1 here.

A/N: Thank you all soooo much for the response to the first chapter, really my head cannot fit through the door. Anyway here is the second chapter, enjoyyy.

18+ for mature audiences only

2800+ word count.

Warnings: smut, oral fem!receiving, lil violence and a lil cursing

Still reeling after the encounter in the broom closet a few days ago, Y/N needed to clear her head. She threw on a jacket and left her room. She found herself in the garage, deciding that a ride on her motorbike would help. Her thoughts were loud. What did that mean? Logan never contacted her afterwards, he didn’t even say anything besides a polite goodbye before she left that night. It left her only longing more. Maybe that's what he wants? Y/N wouldn’t know. She was at a loss, pulling into the carpark of a bar nearby. A drink would do her good. She walked inside and went straight to the bar, ordering her favourite drink. The bar was busy due to a competition they were hosting, so the patrons were rowdy. Y/N scanned her surroundings by instinct. Two exits and a few windows. Y/N didn’t know why she was on edge, Logan kept plaguing her mind. An older man came and sat next to her. 

“Hey pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?” He sounded sleazy, he even looked like a predator. Y/N scoffed and moved away from him. “Hey come on now, is that how you treat a gentleman?” 

“I don’t want any trouble,” She said, getting up. 

“Neither do I, princess” The man stood up and cornered Y/N. Before she could react, the man was yanked back. All of a sudden, the man was pinned against the wall and punched in the face. She got out her handgun and aimed it at the two men before her. Y/N moved the handgun away when she noticed it was Logan in front of her. The bartender started yelling for them to leave the bar.  

“She doesn’t want you, bub” he growled through gritted teeth. The man, whose nose was spilling blood, squirmed away from Logan and left. Y/N finished her drink and left the bar. Logan followed after her. “We need to talk” 

“I don’t want to hear it” 

“What's wrong?” 

“What's wrong?” she scoffed, incredulously. “What's wrong is you don’t speak to me, you criticise me in battle, you fuck me in a closet and then you come in here all knight in shining armour like nothing happened. What is wrong with you?” She went to mount her bike when Logan touched her shoulder. He pulled her into a hug and held her there for a minute. Y/N wanted to sink into his arms and stay there but she pulled away. She wanted to know him like he knew her. “Well?” she pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag, “You wanted to talk?”

“I don’t know what came over me, I just didn’t want you to get hurt” 

“You’ve seen me fight, Logan, I can handle myself. I’ve handled a lot worse” She couldn’t read his face. He was like a brick wall and Y/N wanted to tear it down. 

“I don’t know where to start with you” 

“I just want you to acknowledge me, you didn’t say a word to me after we… after that happened. I don’t have the time for games. I want to know you” Y/N took another drag of her cigarette. 

“What do you want to know?”

“I don't know,” She thought hard “Do you often take people into closets?”

“Not for a long time,” Logan said, shifting his posture. “I’m not good with other people, but you, you’re different, you’re…” He trailed off. He wasn’t ready to finish that sentence. “We’re a good team, I think because we don’t talk about it” 

Y/N nodded, understanding. She wasn’t ready to talk about it either. That conversation was a can of worms neither of them wanted to open. Who they are, what they mean to each other. She admired Logan’s ability to read her without speaking. She didn’t want to say it, but she had to. “Casual… we can just keep it casual and see where things go. The others don’t have to know. We can just keep it between ourselves and-” She was cut off by Logan's lips pressing against hers. She leaned into it, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I want whatever you want” 

“I want you” she breathed. Logan placed one last kiss on her lips before pulling away. He had a smile on his face. 

“Here?” Logan looked around the carpark, scanning to see if anyone was near. Y/N looked up and blinked. 

“No, not like that,” She said, lightly hitting Logan on the shoulder. “Get your mind out of the gutter” They kissed again. It was passionate and soft. Maybe they didn’t need to have in-depth conversations about their relationship to be on the same page. Just as the kiss started getting heated, Y/N’s phone rang. Sighing, she pulled it out of her pocket and answered the call. It was Yelena. 

“Hey it’s me, Stark called a meeting, he wants us there too. Are you far away?”

“Uhh, a little. I took my bike out. What’s this meeting about?”

“Not sure yet, but the X-men are on their way” Y/N’s eyes met with Logans. They’re probably expecting him as well. She decided to play it cool. 

“Fitting, I’m at a bar and I bumped into Logan here. We’ll meet you at the Compound” and before Yelena could ask questions, Y/N hung up the phone. 

“I’ll follow you, let's go,” Logan said, walking over to his bike. They rode their bikes to the Compound, Logan leading the way. The ride was peaceful this time, Y/N couldn’t help but admire the view. Once they arrived, they parked their bikes in the garage. Together, they walked up to the conference room. The very room where she and Logan had shared their first kiss. It suddenly dawned on Y/N, the jacket she was wearing. Logans jacket. He’d given it to her the night of the dinner party. And he never even mentioned it, that bastard. How embarrassing, she thought to herself. The room was filled, Kitty, Storm, Rogue and Bobby were with the Professor on one side of the table. Yelena, Sam, Bucky, Rhodey and Stark sat on the other side. Y/N took an empty seat next to her best friend. Logan stood near the Professor.

She leaned over to Y/N, “bumping into Logan, huh?” she whispered. Y/N shot Yelena a look that said “Don’t test me” before turning to Tony, who was handing out files. 

“Thanks for coming everyone, we have new intel on who's snatching these mutant kids and where they could be,” He said

“Widows?” Y/N said, taking the file and skimming through the words. Her heart started to beat so fast and loudly, she swore everyone could hear it. 

“We have reason to believe Dreykovs followers are experimenting on mutant girls to make a more powerful type of Widow. His army split up after his death and has been doing this since. They have multiple outlets, all over the world. We’ve been investigating this for a while but we weren’t 100% sure how to tell you two” Tony gestured to Y/N and Yelena. Yelena stood up from her seat. 

“You knew? And you kept it from us?” Her accent was thick, indicating she was angry. “How long have you known?” Tony hesitated. Y/N looked over at everyone, she could see it on their faces. They all knew. She felt embarrassed like she had something on her face and no one was telling her. “How long have you known?” Yelena slammed her hand on the table. This made Y/N jump. 

“Yelena-” she started when Tony cut her off. 

“Three months. When Charles came to us. He wasn’t sure how to handle the situation so he came to us and asked for our help. We just didn’t want you guys to take it too personally” Y/N scoffed. She couldn’t believe any of this. There were no words to describe how she felt. She needed to flee, to get some fresh air. Have a smoke maybe. As she stood up, she felt dizzy. These kids, these girls were innocent, helpless. She had to do something. Putting aside her current negative feelings towards Stark, she spoke up. 

“I’ll help… look if these kids are getting treated the way we did, then the worst has already happened. We have to put an end to this, and stop it from happening again,” She looked at Yelena, who nodded.

“I-I suppose you’re right…” Yelena took her file off the table and left. It must’ve been too much for her. Bucky got up and followed his girlfriend. There was yelling, mostly in Russian, and then a door slammed. Tony looked around at the rest of the group. 

“There’s information in everyone's files about which base they’re gonna take out. Y/N, if you want to help, you can go with Charles and Logan. We have enough beds here if you guys want to stay the night and then fly out tomorrow morning” Stark said. The Professor nodded. 

“That would be great, thank you,” He said before wheeling out of the room. Stark followed, sparking up a conversation with Bobby as they went. It wasn’t long until Y/N and Logan were the only two left in the room. Again. That day replayed in her mind, how the room fell silent as she and Yelena walked into the room. Were they talking about the two of them that day? If they were, how much of her past did Logan know? She wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t be productive. Logan walked over to her and put an arm around her waist but she moved away. She sat down and opened the file. There were photos of men from a lifetime Y/N had long forgotten, holding young girls and forcing them into vans. She recognised some of the Widows that were assisting, thinking they had died. Her heart ached as she read through the files. 

“I would’ve told you” Logan spoke softly. “Charles forbid it, said it could compromise the outcome” Y/N scoffed. 

“I’m not weak, I was top of my class, Yelena and I. I was trained to be heartless” She said, though her words didn’t sound strong. 

“No one would judge you if you sat out, we’d all understand” 

“I said I could do it, so I’m gonna fucking do it. These kids need someone on their side, someone who knows what they went through” Y/N turned around to face Logan. He had a soft look on his face, he was concerned. Y/N didn’t know that Logan knew what it was like to be used, beaten and experimented on. She didn’t know the lifetime of abuse that he had lived through. 

“Why don’t you get some rest, see how you feel in the morning” Logan said as she stood up from her seat. 

“I don’t need rest, I need to read through these files and figure out a plan” 

“We can do that in the morning, Charles will probably figure something out” Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, let's just take a break from thinking about this” 

“I can’t just “take a break” Logan. This is my life. I live with this every day. All my sisters I let down by not finding them. Now they’re being controlled and used to do this!? I escaped and went to a semi-normal life, these girls didn’t even get a chance. I should’ve gone back and investigated more. I just decided to push it all away”

“It’s not your fault. There's no one to blame except for the men in charge. C’mon, let's get some rest” He held out a hand to her, and she took it. 

“Can you… would you stay with me? Maybe… if you want” She sounded shy. Logan smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Thought you wouldn’t ask, princess” They walked hand in hand to Y/N’s room. Once they were behind closed doors, Y/N pressed her lips against Logans in a desperate attempt at bringing him closer to her. Her hands went straight to Logans pants, trying to undo the belt buckle. “Whoa there, sweetheart. Are you sure you want this right now?” 

“Please, can we just forget about whats going on? It’s fine, I want this” she reassured, taking her shirt off. She was in a rush. “Why, do you not want to?”

“No, I want to, just feels like maybe you’d like to talk about how you’re feeling instead?” 

“C’mon now, we work better without talking” She looked up into his eyes before kissing his neck. His breathing hitched, he was enjoying it. Logan picked her up and placed her down on the bed, before taking off his shirt. He climbed onto the bed, his weight making it sink in the middle. Y/N smiled, pulling Logan in for a kiss. It was passionate, delicate. Logan snaked a hand behind her back, uncasping her bra skillfully with one hand. Together, they undressed, tossing their clothes onto the floor. Logan looked at the sight infront of him. 

“You’re so beautiful” he breathed. 

“Shh, no talking” Y/N said, kissing Logan. He moved down, kissing her neck, her collarbone, her chest before attaching his lips to her nipple. His hand went to her other breast, massaging it. Y/N moaned, arching her back to meet Logan. He tugged slightly with his teeth, gaining yet another moan from her. Logans eyes met with Y/N’s, asking silently if that was okay. She nodded for him to continue.  He trailed kisses down her stomach before he lifted both of her legs over his shoulders. He licked a stripe up her cunt, tasting her slowly. Y/N squirmed into his face. Logan smiled, before attaching his lips to her clit, sucking gently. She moaned loudly, swearing his name. Her hips buckled, causing Logan to put both hands on her lips and hold her down. He lapped up her juices like he was starving and she was food. It wasn’t long before Y/N was close to her end, her pussy clenching around nothing. Logan took this opportunity to insert two fingers, curling them up to hit just that spot. He gained a good rhythm, as he continued to eat her out. Y/N was trembling, her orgasm getting closer, closer, closer…

A deep moan escaped from her lips as she grabbed onto the sheets. Her face, a contorted shape of pleasure. She’d never been eaten out like that before. Logan was still going at it, slowing his fingers to allow Y/N to ride out her high. He looked up and his eyes met with hers. She pulled him up to meet her face before hungrily kissing him. She needed him, bad. She moved her hips to meet with Logans, and he quickly got the hint. He stoked himself a few times before he inserted his cock. Logan thrusted in and out, moving slowly at first to allow her to get used to his size. They moved insync, becoming one together. It was intimate, as Logan starred deeply into her eyes. Y/N pulled him down to kiss, wanting to feel every inch of his body on hers. Logan started kissing that sweet spot on her neck, causing her to dig her nails into his back. He leaned back onto his knees, holding onto Y/N’s hips, and he started to thrust in deeper and messier than before. She was getting close again, her eyes locked onto Logan’s as lust and desire filled his eyes. Deep down, she knew this was more than casual. She had feelings for him that she even didn’t know existed. She just couldn’t figure out if he felt the same way. 

“I-I’m close…” she breathed out, breaking her silence. 

“I know, baby” Logan said, kissing her. The contact threw her over the edge, wrapping her legs around Logan’s waist. She didn’t want him to leave and it’s not like she could get pregnant anyway. Logan came shortly after a few more thrusts, riding out his high. He pulled out and layed down next to Y/N, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. 

“Thank you,” she said, drawing circles on Logan's abs.  “Anytime, now get some rest” With that, it wasn’t long before she drifted off. Y/N’s dreams were vivid. Images of Dreykov and his followers plaguing her mind. Saying she was worthless, replaceable, disposable. She tried to scream but no noise came out. She stirred, reaching her arms out to find Logan. But he wasn’t there. She sat up in bed, looking around the room. His clothes were gone. He was gone.

Next chapter here

[barbieaemond]

The river’s undertow|teaser

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Tully!reader

Warnings: dark(ish) Aemond, angst, misogyny, possessive behaviour, obsession, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, Aemond sucks at courting, Daeron saves the day

Based on this anon request: Aemond (or dark!Aemond) who, by Otto's bidding, gets reader to fall in love with him to form an alliance with her house through marriage. But he ends up falling hard for her! Her love language is physical touch, and Aemond is the most touch starved man in the whole of Westeros. A 'she fell first, he fell harder' type of thing.

Title comes from the song Persephone by Tamino

Lil sneak peek

He was so occupied with cursing the Gods for sending him there to play the pawn of his grandsire that he did not even realise he was not alone. And so, the haughty Prince Aemond Targaryen found himself flinching when a small, delicate voice came from behind him.

“My Prince.”

He turned sharply and saw a young lady clad in light blue, greeting him with a long curtsy.

“We were not expecting you.” she said raising her eyes at him for just a moment “but it’s certainly an honour to have you here in Riverrun.”

She spoke very softly, as if afraid of her own voice, and Aemond was at a loss for words for a moment, running his eye over her figure. She was small in stature, almost subdued, so much so that he had not heard her coming.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back and raised his chin haughtily. "I need to speak to Lord Grover."

"Of course, your Grace." She said with her head down, moving a single step before he spoke again in clear annoyance, hissing in fact. "I'm not finished."

He sighed loudly at the inconvenience of even having to explain to these savages that one does not leave the presence of a Prince without his consent.

“Apologies, your Grace.” She muttered mortified and, again, in a barely audible tone of voice.

“Speak up, girl. I’m half blind, not deaf.” he nothing but spat, feeling his spirits worsen steeply as the soaked clothes clung to him and the empty socket played hammer on his nerves. “I need a room to clean up. And I demand to meet Lady Tully along with the Lord Paramount.”

“Yes, my Prince. If you would follow me, I will show you to a room upstairs. And...you already met Lady Tully. She’s speaking to you.”

Aemond blinked for a moment before his eye slowly dropped to her entire figure. So, there she was. His future wife.

She was a pretty little thing, a gentle beauty, delicate, just like her voice. He didn't know how such delicacy would fit his sharp edges and frankly, he didn't care. He just had to fuck her and put a child in her womb before the end of the year. In light of that, at least she had a pretty face.

But first, he had to play the part. He had to make her cheeks flush.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Marking

Pairings: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x reader, Leviathan x reader

Warnings: slapping, blood, penetration, biting, scratching, sadism, slight degradation, usual smut warnings

A/N: I rlly just wanted to write Lucifer nd mams so Levi’s part is a lil😭😭

Lucifer

He loveeeessss when you scratch his back. Don’t be scared to dig your nails in ladies nd gents nd all my friends in between.

If he bleeds, oh well🤷🏼‍♀️ it only adds to the pleasure in his eyes. I feel like he purposely would go rougher just to feel u leave deep red lines in his back. Ooooooo imagineee

He’s slamming into you at a ruthless pace, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure. One hand gripping the headboard, the other holding your jaw, keeping your head positioned so all u can look at is his face.

Your eyes are rolled back and your arms lay limp near your head, dumb look on your face. He looks at you disappointed ‘I still need to cum,’ he thought to himself. Suddenly he hiked one leg over his hip to reach a different angle inside of you.

Immediately you reward him by lunging to wrap your arms around his neck, whilst your hands claw and scratch at his upper back.

Mammon

He would be into being bit ngl

But like no cap fr tho he would.

Cover his chest, thighs, shoulders, neck, everywhere.

He would keep the tightest grip on you while letting out whimpers and moans tbh he js likes to make noise

You’re perched on Mammon’s Lap, bouncing at an insane speed. The sound of skin clapping is almost defiling. Mammon keeps his arms wrapped around your waist so that he can help guide you, his body is twitching like a maniac

“Pleaseee! I need to cum again!”

You respond by leaning forward, lips right near his left nipple. You stop above the nipple, biting down and breaking skin. He’s twitching inside of you, groaning in pleasure, eyes shut as if looking at you will ruin him completely.

Leviathan

He likes u hitting him, like being so fr.

Back hand him in the face, because he’s “being too needy,” he’ll have the most crooked smile on his face.

He likes when your knuckles hit him just the right way, bruising his skin.

Lucifer asks where the bruises come from nd he js says hitting his head on the bed

You’re sat atop his gaming desk, legs wrapped around his waist, hands flat on the table. Levi desperately thrusts inside, kissing you on your neck underneath you chin.

You see how desperate he is to finish. All he needs is a slight push towards the edge, so u push his chest back slightly with your index finger. He looks up at you confused, immediately met by the burning sensation of your hand against his face.

Cheek red and stinging only adds to the pleasure. He speeds up, twitching inside of you, “ahh, yes right there!”

You only look down at him and tell him, “You’re pathetic.”

[ohbabydollie]

Babe please do a smut/smutty hcs of the mutual breakup, omg best thing I’ve read in awhile, and I love the praise I’m such a slut for it hehe

(based off schlatt in japan) (also my first time writing smut in like a year 😭)

“4k a night? schlatt are you serious?” you ask looking at your ex boyfriend as he’s driving you both to the hotel, one hand on the wheel, one on your thigh

“what, there’s nothin wrong with it toots, you get to stay in a nice hotel and i get content” he says pulling up to the ritz carlton hotel

“yeah but i don’t get it..” you say crossing your arms “why spend so much money? i would be fine in a capsule hotel”

“lighten up doll” he says squeezing your thigh “you deserve to be spoiled a lil”

you rolled your eyes at him as he leaned in, puckering his lips slightly before you plant a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles

“let’s go doll” he says with a squeeze to your thigh and opening his door before walking over to open yours

You both entered the hotel and quickly got to your room, looking around at the large room as jack recorded your expression

you three walk into the bedroom, you laying down on the bed almost immediately, excited to finally get to lay down and relax while schlatt looks around the room, walking behind the “wall” the bed is against

“look doll, it’s got a fake wall” he says smiling at you “we won’t get complains about the bed hittin’ the wall ton-” “shut the fuck up schlatt” you say throwing one of the pillows from the bed at him as he laughs

you grab your phone, looking at the time “you’re not getting anything from me tonight, especially not in a expensive ass hotel, have some decorum” you say sitting up on the edge of the bed and looking though your phone

schlatt smiles at the camera “here’s a pro tip incase you ever have a special lady in your life” schlatt says looking to the camera, hands on his hips before walking infront of you and leaning down to your level

“don’t forget who’s paying for the hotel sweetheart, gotta give it up or you’re gonna be stuck in japan, no way home, no hotel, no money, got it” he says in a husky voice, squeezing your cheeks together with a large hand making you giggle softly, knowing he’s kidding

“yessir” you say softly

———

“look at you, takin’ m’ cock so good” schlatt says slowly pushing his length into you while you let out a silent scream, eyes rolling back at the familiar feeling of him stretching your tight cunt out

“so good, such a good girl” he coos “you ready precious thing?” he asks you softly, you nod as he pulls out gently, only leaving the tip in before shoving himself inside making you force out a sob

“Schlattt~” you whine out as he plunges in and out of your tight heat harshly, your legs thrown over his shoulders, forcing you into missionary

“what princess?” he coos “i thought you said i wasn’t gonna get. any. thing. tonight.” he said making sure to pound into you between every word and make you cry out as you cover your mouth with your hand, only for it to be harshly pulled away

“let. me. hear. those. pretty. sounds” schlatt demands, holding your hand, making you squeeze his hand and cry out in pleasure

you feel the familiar knot in your stomach starting to form, probably from going so long without schlatt. he looks down at you with a smug expression

“gonna cum for me so soon dolly?” he asks you softly. you nod, throwing your head back in pleasure

“f-fuck!” you wail out, schlatt shushing you softly, making you feel the familiar wave of euphoria hit before slowing his hips down as to not overstimulate you

“there we go, there we go pretty girl, so good” he coos, pressing small ‘o’s on your clit as you calm down from your high, him pressing a kiss to your forehead

once he notices your breaths starting to calm down he starts back up causing you to start crying out for him again

“still needa cum dolly” he says with a mischievous grin

i need to be retrained in writing smut 😭

[danikamariewrites]

Straddle Me (smut)

Eris x reader

Notes: another installment of my favorite lil series I write for Eris 🥰 I realized the other day I really written any smut for Eris besides this stuff, then I felt bad lmao. I feel like I’m neglecting my sweet baby boy

Warnings: dry humping (I hate saying that), allusions to oral

Finally, Eris thinks, stretching his long body against the soft blankets. Alone at last. He closes his eyes, folding his arms behind his head.

It had been a very long day. Beron had required more attention from Eris than usual all afternoon. Sending him on errands all over the Forest House that brought him to advisor after advisor. Then he had his generals to meet with to go over recruitment.

It was exhausting.

And on top of all of that he hadn’t even seen you today!

You had woken up before Eris this morning to spend time with his mother. As the wedding draws closer you’ve begun shadowing Lady Autumn, learning what her duties are as the High Lord’s wife.

Eris couldn’t wait for you to return. For you to be safely in his arms.

The want for you to come back was short lived. Your hurried, excited footsteps padded across the carpet in the sitting room. Flinging the door open to the bedroom, a huge smile on your face, you let out a joyous squeal and launch yourself on the bed.

“Eris! I missed you!” You say giddily, pecking kisses to his freckled cheeks. He cradles you to his chest pressing a long kiss to your forehead, inhaling your scent. “I missed you too, little fox. Tell me about your day.” His tone was gentle and full of genuine curiosity.

To Eris’s dismay you untangle yourself from his embrace. Sitting up, you straddle his stomach, your bare things caging his clothed torso as your dress pools around the two of you. You hold onto his hands, absentmindedly playing with his fingers as you ramble about what his mother showed you.

Looking down you notice his pupils blown wide as they stare at where your legs are placed. You giggle, knowing Eris’s thoughts are wandering to something dirty that he’s itching to show you.

You wanted it too. Ever since you started reading smutty romance books things have gotten heated between you and your mate. You craved his touch every moment you could get it.

Your eyes grow wide, sparkling with mischief as an idea blossoms in your mind. Your new goal: make Eris feel as needy as you have.

The thought has a wet spot growing rapidly in your panties. You pulled his hands to your chest, cradling them and loving the heat radiating from them. “Tell me about your day, my love.”

On command, Eris starts to list everything he did today. If you wanted to hear about it he would tell you every godsdamn detail you wanted. Hell, Eris would tell you the color of the rocks stuck in his shoe if you demanded it.

As your mate's deep melodic voice fills your ears you slowly slide down his body, resting over his crotch. You begin to lightly grind your hips back and forth. Teasing your mate at an agonizing pace.

Eris tried to ignore the feeling of you rubbing against his cock. He tripped over his words as he tried to focus on you, not your movements. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock as it pressed against his pants.

He so badly wants to pin you to the mattress and tease you until your legs are shaking, begging Eris to let you come.

You pick up the pace of your hips. Eris bites down on his lips to keep from moaning loud enough for the Forest House to hear him. “Little fox… You’re going to be the death of me if you keep this up.”

The giggle that leaves your lips almost sends him over the edge. Gods, he’s going to come in his pants like a teenager.

Eris holds your hips in a vice grip that you fight through. You lean down, pressing your breasts into his chest. “Let me make you feel good, my mate.” You whispered in his ear.

Your mate was always taking charge in making you feel good. For once you wanted to rile him up. Make him feel good.

His hands slip from your hips to rest on your thighs, allowing you to continue. Resting your hands flat on his chest you quicken your pace. Biting your lip you let out a small moan. The feeling of Eris’s hard cock pressing against your soaked panties, rubbing against your clit has your back arching. Definitely better than your fingers.

You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you and Eris get this worked up over each other. And you haven’t even taken your clothes off.

Dragging your nails down his chest, Eris tenses and groans. His grip turns bruising on your hips helping you move faster. You lean down to whisper in his ear again. “Come, Eris. Let go baby, you know you want to.”

Eris pushes his face into your neck, his moans muffled as his thighs and cock twitch under you.

“Fuck,” he groans, holding you tight to his body. You smile pleased with yourself. Running your fingers through his hair you say soft ‘I love you’s to help him calm down.

Propping yourself up you bat your lashes at him innocently. Eris looks down at you breathless, “You are going to be the death of me, little fox.” You giggle and slither down his body. His eyes go wide as you reach to undo the ties of his pants. Eris knows he should feel embarrassed by the stain on his pants, but he can’t help but get turned on by your hungry gaze.

“What are you doing, little fox?” You send him a smirk and tug at the fabric restricting him. “Getting you cleaned up.”

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Still Going (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warnings: T - suggestiveness, language, panic attack, feels Word count: 1.4k

Summary: A meaningful moment with your new husband. Author's Note: This is just a lil idea that popped into my head last night. Inspired by just wanting to hug the sad!Anthony from one of @fayes-fics stories. Thank you to @colettebronte for helping me pin down the right moment for the header. 💙

Months into your marriage and your husband still left you numb with pleasure each and every night as you tumbled with one another across your bed. Two things had become abundantly clear to you soon after marrying Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. First was the reason unmarried young ladies were not allowed in private company with young gentlemen, particularly of the rakish variety. And second was that you were one of the lucky ones who did not view cavorting with your husband as some sort of grueling, customary duty for the sole purpose of conceiving children. No indeed, it was proving to be the highlight of your life together as he unlocked unimaginable sensations within your body that left your mind soaring even as you lay limp and panting in his arms.

It was in just such a moment on a still summer night at Bridgerton House that you both collapsed back into the pillows together, spent and euphoric from your lovemaking. You chuckled, nuzzling in close to Anthony’s side as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You were fuzzy, lapsing into welcome sleep when he leaned away to reach for something on his nightstand. Then you heard the small clatter, immediately followed by his hissing curses.

“Dammit! No…” He rolled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his voice rose in volume. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

Your eyes flew open to see his broad back hunched over, clutching something in his hands. You gathered the sheet around yourself and shifted to sit behind him. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”

In the low moonlight from the windows you could see he cradled his pocket watch in his palm, a splintering crack now etched across its face. His shoulders were beginning to heave, his breath growing short as he stared at it, transfixed. “It broke…” he croaked. “It…it just fell. I’ve dropped it before, but it broke and I…” He was gasping now, fighting for air like a drowning man as his eyes darted and his hands began to shake.

You had seen this before, one of his spells when fear and overwhelm consumed him. It had happened when his youngest sister had broken her leg during childish roughhousing, again when his brother had received an innocuous bee sting, and again when you had come down with a nasty but passing fever after your honeymoon. Every time someone he loved found themselves in harm’s way he was liable to lose control of his faculties, only temporarily, as his mind spun toward the worst possible conclusions. You knew why he suffered this way and didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you had committed yourself to bolstering him through the storms, learning techniques that helped call him back to himself.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and felt how he trembled.

He continued mumbling to himself, eyes locked on the watch, each word rasping. “It broke…I can’t…what do I…”

“Anthony?” You kept your voice clear and steady. “Anthony, look at me.”

He turned and you were nearly undone by the anguish you found in his eyes. You brought a hand to his cheek and pressed your foreheads together, his frantic exhales gusting across your skin. “My love, it’s alright.” You soothed, stroking his face and running your fingertips into his hair, imploring him to hear you. “You must control your breath. Anthony, follow me.” Reverting to what had worked before, you took his hand and gently guided it to press flat over your heart. You did the same, bringing a hand to rest on his heaving chest so that you mirrored one another. Tears threatened to form at the terrified pounding you felt under your fingertips, something so vulnerable within your husband who was otherwise a pillar of strength.

He was still panicked, nearly vibrating against you as he choked for air, but you kept your breath slow and deliberate, leading him out of the tempest with something solid and rhythmic. After a few moments he fell in sync with you, shuddering inhales that struggled to pace with your own, and desperate exhales as he released the disquiet that surged through him. His pulse began to slow, ever so gradually, and you felt the tension begin to melt out of his frame. He still clutched the watch tightly in his free hand, but the one against your skin grew soft and warm again as he regained himself.

“That’s it. Very good. Everything will be alright.” You cooed, running your thumb over his cheek. You hated that he was faced with such demons and were grateful that your methods of combatting them seemed effective. Anthony sagged against you, starting to breathe through his nose as he settled back into equilibrium. He was always exhausted after his episodes.

“Let me see.” You dropped your hands and gently pried the pocket watch out of his, inspecting it. As far as you could tell the damage was only superficial. Just a fracture in the glass but the mechanism was still ticking. “We can get this repaired.” You reassured him.

He looked back at you, eyes huge and pleading. “It was my father’s watch.”

This was a fact you knew well, with Anthony himself having told you many times before. It wasn’t that he thought you ignorant, it was the anxiety of the moment speaking for him.

“I know, my love.” You nodded. “It is precious. But it is not broken. It’s only the glass that is cracked, see? It’s still going.” You held the timepiece next to his ear so that he could hear its steady ticking for himself. Undeniable relief lit across his face as he let out a shaking exhale, inclining himself to listen more closely. The tempo of the watch gears proved as soothing to him as the beating of your heart. You smiled, knowing the worst was behind you. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take it to the jeweler and have the glass replaced.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anthony nodded. Then he turned to kiss your wrist and place the watch safely in the drawer of his nightstand. Sliding back into the center of the bed, he wrapped you in his arms and burrowed down into the sheets, breathing deep into your hair as he pressed you to his warm, naked torso. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry you have such a fool for a husband.”

You pouted. “Why would you say he is foolish?”

“Because he goes to pieces over something as silly as a broken watch.” 

“I don’t think it’s silly.” You stretched an arm across his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “I think it speaks to how deeply he cares for his family. How much he honors his father’s memory, like a true gentleman.”

“Mmm. True gentlemen should not fall prey to such reckless displays of emotion.” He fell back into his Viscount’s tone, bitter and exacting. His censure in that voice was cutting to anyone but most of all to himself. His brutal self criticism had nearly come in the way of your betrothal, and it was something you were actively encouraging him to reduce. Particularly in this matter where he was so obviously not at fault, you would not allow him to chastise himself. You saw things from another perspective entirely.

After a moment, you spoke softly. “I think it may be your heart’s way of asking to be heard.”

Anthony scoffed. “You think I have one?” Not the reaction you wanted, but perhaps the one you should have expected. 

You pulled back to meet his eyes, arms still banded tightly around one another. When you looked at your husband, the most handsome man you had ever seen, the man who had fought for your affections and filled your life with wonder every day since he had won them, you felt nothing but certainty.

“I know you do. I have seen it.”

His features softened, brows turning up as his warm eyes grew misty. With the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, he lovingly brushed a hand along your cheek. “You have seen it?”

“Yes, and in time you will see it too.” You smiled and leaned up into his gentle kiss then returned to lay your head on his chest, trailing your fingers languidly through the dark hairs found there. “I would not have married you if you did not possess one. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Anthony.” You curled more tightly against him, pressing your ear down until you could hear the proof of it. The heart that you loved so dearly, the one bound to your own, now returned to its strong and constant cadence.

“It is beautiful. It may have some cracks, but it is still going.”

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