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#pretty sure this is literally the only time he talks about her
fandomxo00 · 2 days
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Cowboy like me - Logan Howlett fanfiction
Request: Could I request farmer old logan x pregnant young reader (like the photos of him picking up flowers in the field) Yn was a snooty and spoiled city girl but she fell in love with Logan during her vacation and ran away with him. With a lot of breeding kink, lactance kink and DomLogan, subreader
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Note: Not into lactation kink but I love the rest!! omg i love old logan/slash hugh with a beard, getting dirty dirty thoughts grrr, smut and fluff below! farmer!logan x citygirl!reader
You sat on the outside as the sun came over the one of the further hills of grass. Your feet on the ground, slowly rocking the porch swing as you breathed in that fresh breeze. You saw Logan from afar, he was working in the barn this morning as he did every morning. Then he'd be out in the field for some of the day, but he wasn't the main owner of the land and wasn't the only employee.
Logan knew that he slowly dying, and that continuing to fight would wound up in his death. That maybe he'd have a chance of living longer if he backed away. So, he went out to find an old friend, giving him a plot of land to build a house on. The labor was hard for him but nowhere near gunshot wounds. Logan focused on the animals he was raising, learning about going out into the field. He had taken to the farmer life literally and he thinks that farming was the reason he was alive right now. He'd even traded whiskey for coffee, only having a drink on occasion. There wasn't as much out of a need for it, there was less pain that he had to numb. Though the loneliness started creeping up on him in the last year or so, thinking of meeting someone to settle down with. Even in his old age, deep down he had always wanted a family.
Then his friend went out of town, wanting to set up their house as an air b'n'b whatever the fuck that meant. That's when he met you, the first day you stayed you called about the wifi password. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was going to come over to help look for the box since his neighbor wasn't replying to his texts. When he showed up and saw a b m w he was slightly confused, before slightly irritated at the idea of this being some obnoxious city girl.
When he opened the door all the thought was, "Pretty." Feel from his lips as his cheeks heated up like he was a boy with a crush. That's what he felt like when he wanted a shiver roll up your spine as you blushed.
"Actually it's Y/n." You laughed. "Are you---?"
"Logan, yeah." He nodded, as you stepped back and invited him in. Logan's eyes widened when he saw the bags placed all over the living room. "Did you need any help with those?"
"Nah, I got it." You shrugged.
"Anyway, gotta find the wifi box." Logan hummed, as you nodded.
You had offered him some tea afterwards, he had politely accepted, intrigue by you. The two of you got to talking and wound up having dinner together. It was slow in the very beginning, though you'd talked into the late night neither one of you made a move. Though both of you grew fond of each other in the small amount of time. Logan's heart was open right now, and it seemed like you wanted to take it. He'd come over the next day with a basket of eggs, milk, bread and jam.
"Did you bake this?" You asked, inviting him inside. Logan cleared his throat as he nodded, while walking inside. "The jam-."
"That was from the local market in town." Logan confirmed as you hummed.
"This was very sweet of you."
"No problem, doll." He grinned over at you, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes lingered on his, the feeling making his heart accelerates as he spoke to you. Logan's eyes trailing to your lips, before he asked you to go on a walk with him before dinner tonight. You'd come out in a beautiful white dress, and boots. He smirked over at you, "Maybe you should change your shoes."
"Oh, I'll be fine. I have to walk around the city all the time!" You smiled over at him, as you lightly waved your hand at him.
Though 15 mintues into the walk you hit a rather muddy spot, something Logan suspecting happening. "Um, can you pick me up?"
"What now?"
"I don't wanna do this." You pouted. "My shoes are all muddy and keep sticking to the ground. And M'so upset that my favorite boots were ruined just because i wanted to impr-." You felt a flush come over your body, whether it was visible or not, you felt heat on your chest, cheeks and the tips of your ears.
"I was gonna say yes the first time, princess."
"Why don't you call me that while you carry me back to your house." You suggested, pointing over at his house that was just across the way. Closer than your house was at this point. Logan's arm wrapped around your legs and waist, making you squeal as he picked you up, giggly, while looking up into his soft hazel eyes. Your hand naturally coming up to his cheek, feeling the wirey hair of his beard beneath your fingers. Logan's arms tightened around you as he walked out of the bed, the cowboy boots he was wearing making it far easier for him. He tried not to drop you at the way you were looking at him, nearly made his knees weak.
When you got back to his house, you slipped out of your boots before following Logan inside "M cold." Logan walked over to the couch, grabbing a blanket and he thought about tossing it over to you. But instead, he walked over to you, shaking the flannel blanket out before wrapping it around your shoulders. Your bright eyes looked up at him, making his jaw clench as he kept his hands on the bed of your blanket. You licked your lips before leaning forward to kiss him, his lips met yours in a feather-like kiss. Hesitancy in both of you, from a slow blossoming friendship that was real hiding the real romantic tension between the two of you. Your hands come to the blanket, pulling it tight as you lean into Logan's chest, his hands moving up to your head, flattening his hands against your hair as his lips interlocked with yours in slow thoughtful kisses.
"You do this to impress all the girls?" You asked, as he chuckled against your lips.
"Whatta mean?" He husked, looking down into your eyes as playful grin spread across your face.
"The whole basket, going on a walk, charming the pants off of girls."
"Haven't done this in a long while, doll. To be frank, I'm trying to settle down, live out the rest of my life in peace and-then you walk into my life all sweet eyes and strong-willed." His hands move to hold up the blanket around your hips as you let go to put your hands on his chest. You felt the hard muscle under your hands, your eyes gleaming up at him with want and adoration.
"You asking me to settle down with you?" You laughed.
"No, but I'm saying I want something serious."
"Well I could look forward to that." You grinned, your hands trailing over his strong stomach.
"How about." Logan started, starting to back you up until you hit the table with an 'oompf'. "You sit and be a good girl."
"W-what?" You blushed.
"Can I taste your sweet little pussy?" Logan hummed, dipping his head into your neck as his deep voice tumbled through you.
"Y-yeah." You murmured, as he pushed you back on the table, the blanket falling around your body as his hands came the hem of your pants. Logan tugged them down swiftly, along with your panties, before spreading your legs out. He got down on his knees as his hands came to your ass. Pulling your cunt to his face so he could dive his mouth into you. "Fuck." You gasped, your hand coming to his hair to balance yourself, the feeling of his rough beard rubbing against your inner folds made you slicker.
"Taste so fucking good." Logan grunted, spitting on your sex, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit. His lips found your inner thighs, his salt and pepper beard creating a little rash against your skin as he sucked marks into your skin. His fingers dipping into your entrance, your slick coding his fingers as he slowly pulled them out to see your translucent arousal covering his index and middle finger. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock." Your walls fluttered around his fingers as your hips relaxed in his palm, his hips rutted into the air. "You like that? Like imagining me inside you? Breeding your little cunt?"
"Logan-." You moaned, arching your back as the hand resting on your hip moved to cup over your breast.
"Sound so fucking pretty." Logan groaned the vibrations rumbling through you as you started feeling an orgasm well up in your stomach. The way his finger curled inside of you, rubbing the spongy part of you made you crumble while his tongue swirled around your clit. "Good girl." He hummed, his mouth coming down to your slit, licking up your come with a slurp before pulling back. Logan's large hand splayed out on your forehead, pushing back your hair roughly as your hand came to his belt. Your hands were quick before pushing his jeans back. Logan's hands came down to his briefs to pull them down before coming to lift your shirt over your head, not giving you time to see him. But then your eyes landed on his proud erection, his cock thick, veiny and pulsating. The idea of him filling you made your thighs clench together, you bet he'd hit every little place. Your hands reaching back to unclasp your bra as you fantaized about him.
The look in your eyes at Logan in a trance before he grabbed on to your roughly. Gasping as he filled you, before fucking you to the point where you saw stars. Claiming you with his words, his mouth on your skin and his cock bruising your cervix. "Gonna fill you with my cum baby, give you my babies." You moaned out at that, the sound long and wanton making him move faster and harder against you. "Fucking keep you fucked and bred."
"Yes-Logan fuck." You chanted.
tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1
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First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.
But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you
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Jealousy
Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.
A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!
It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.
He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.
He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.
So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.
He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.
He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.
The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.
He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.
-
She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.
But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.
She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.
“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.
“Dun’ kiss him”
“What the fuck?”
Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.
“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.
“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.
“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”
“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”
“‘cause I can’t stand it”
“Why do you care?”
“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”
“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”
“I didn’t-what?”
He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.
“I did want ya”
Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.
“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”
“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”
He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.
The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.
The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.
It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.
It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.
A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.
“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.
“I-uh-yeah-I”
She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.
“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”
The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.
-
She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.
Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.
“I’m a’ idiot”
“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.
“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.
“You’re not going to run away again?”
“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”
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themeraldee · 7 hours
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The Lucky Winner - Part 3
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[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]
18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.
Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.
Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.
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The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.
Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.
“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.
“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.
His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.
“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners? 
“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!
“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.
“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news. 
“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!
Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?” 
You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.
There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.
“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?
“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything. 
Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.
“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”
“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures. 
You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.
“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”
Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters. 
You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!
“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.
Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.
With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?
Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!
You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!  
You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.
You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything. 
Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person. 
And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash. 
Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!
“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat. 
There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him. 
“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.
Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.
In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.
You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in. 
Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.
Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.
“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.
“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”
“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.
“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose. 
And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works. 
He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing. 
He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.
“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.
“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.
You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display. 
Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It��s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.
He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.
“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions. 
“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”
“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt. 
“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.” 
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.
Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”
“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table. 
You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”
“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?” 
You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.
“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.
“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.” 
“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?” 
“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.
As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.
He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special. 
Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.
You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.
“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true. 
He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite. 
“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence. 
“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”
“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.
“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.
“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation. 
“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.
“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk. 
“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?
He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”
You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.
You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.
You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.
“There’s no shame in being a fan.” 
“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”
You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious. 
Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?
He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes. 
“You don’t think that’s it?” 
His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”
You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too. 
“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.
“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?
So you continue.
“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”
You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine. 
You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it. 
He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?
You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal. 
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!” 
He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival. 
“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.” 
He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.  
“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.
You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”
“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.” 
And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.
“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.
After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.
With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.
In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way. 
The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is. 
With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.
Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?
Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours. 
“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.
“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.
“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.
The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you. 
“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out? 
While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.
His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.
“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.
“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.
His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.
“Do I get a goodbye kiss?” 
And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.
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This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself. 
At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.
He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.
He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during  your date.
He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.
You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you. 
You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you. 
It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.
Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.
Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort. 
You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.
As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.
You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with. 
So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.
It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.
Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering. 
You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.
Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.
You call him out on that one day. 
“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help. 
He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you. 
“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint. 
“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree. 
He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.
“Maybe I want to treat my girl.” 
Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.
“Your girl?”
“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.
“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.
You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks. 
“I love you.” 
Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.
“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.
“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.
He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better. 
He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”
You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.
“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy. 
His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.
“Again.” 
“I love you.”
You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.
“Again.” 
And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked. 
“I love you.”
Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything. 
You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.
He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.
He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.
Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.
You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.
He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.
Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.
It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.
It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.
“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with. 
His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.  
You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again. 
His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.
It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you. 
“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.
“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.
He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him. 
He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.
“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.
“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you. 
He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.
Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air. 
As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.
He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you. 
You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.
Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.
Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves. 
It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears. 
Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.
After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.
You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.
After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.
You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard. 
“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts. 
“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.
“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”
“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.” 
“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.
He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage. 
“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.” 
You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.
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Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.
His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.
He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.
You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.
His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.
And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.
Wait.
Where is everything?
Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.
Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.
He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls. 
His stomach flips. 
No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.
You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you. 
Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love. 
He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on. 
Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare. 
He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night. 
You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.
You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.
Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.
This has to be some kind of a mistake.
The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.
“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.
“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does. 
“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.
“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.
“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.
“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.
“So what are you doing with all of it?”
“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”
“Why not sell it all?”
“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”
“What if I sign them?”
“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”
“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”
Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster. 
Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away. 
As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.
His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.
He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.
You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.
“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”
At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart. 
It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.  
The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.
And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.
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Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)
@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife
@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy
@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade
@nommingonfood
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darklinaforever · 1 day
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The first person is aware that Lydia could remove the files from her mouth at any time? Literally, she takes them off on her own to talk when she gets tired of them! Beetlejuice is a very powerful fucking demon, if he wanted to completely silence Lydia he could and would have done so. However, he didn't do it. I'm tired of seeing people make this situation worse when in reality it's not as restrictive as it seems.
Same with the baby's delusion, which yes, is admittedly very disturbing at first and the only real reprehensible thing that Beetlejuice does to Lydia in this film in my opinion (because with the song that is played at their wedding ceremony and the how easily he lets Lydia send him away (I'm sure he wasn't really planning on marrying her this time). But then again, he didn't actually get Lydia pregnant ! And she didn't really give birth to his demonic child either ! And she seems to get over that weird, disgusting prank made by Beetlejuice pretty quickly.
Also, I don't know why but I never had the impression that Beetlejuice had traumatized Lydia in the first film as an attempt to affirm these people, particularly the second.
Literally, she doesn't seem to have any after-effects in the first film, and the sequel proves it even more. At what point in her scenes with Beetlejuice himself does Lydia seem to be truly afraid of him or particularly traumatized by him ? And I'm talking about the scenes where she is with him in the flesh. Because the moments when she thinks she's hallucinating his presence, it's logical that she panics. But no, she never seems terrified of Beetlejuice himself.
Not even at the famous wedding, contrary to what the second person says. This is bullshit.
The scenes where Beetlejuice makes declarations to Lydia like the serenade or the marriage, she doesn't seem disgusted (except when he throws his heart in her hands and that's somewhat normal) or terrified, or both.
She just has a face that generally says : Wtf ? Because the situation is WTF ! This wedding scene is not at all portrayed as creepy in the first place !
Frankly, it's bad form to say the opposite for me ! It’s deliberately turning a blind eye. Beetlejuice is a horror comedy, these scenes are above all funny with touches of bizarre and gothic !
The actors love their characters together, including Winona who totally ships them. To say that she played her character as being terrified of Beetlejuice is bullshit.
And even if his acting was out of step with the script, that's not the case. Because once again, Lydia is not traumatized by Beetlejuice even through writing.
Aside from the fact that Lydia doesn't want to say Beetlejuice's name to avoid screwing up her life again (and we understand), there is nothing that indicates a real fear of Beetlejuice, the individual, in her !
And no, Lydia does not have any trauma that caused her to hallucinate the Beetlejuice presence. We know it, we see it, Beetlejuice does this on his own, so when Lydia sees him it's real. These are not hallucinations resulting from trauma at all !
Yes, Beetlejuice is problematic, obviously he's a demon ! Yes, Beetlebabes also has problematic aspects, obviously since once again Beetlejuice is a demon !
(That's literally the whole appeal of this ship between these two... Nobody likes Beetlebabes because it's a healthy relationship !)
But I'm tired of people trying to make it worse than it is.
In this sequel, Beetlejuice literally saved Astrid, Lydia's daughter, and he also saved her from marrying a complete asshole !
Not only that, but the way he pursues Lydia, or courts her if you prefer, isn't really cringeworthy.
He helps her save her daughter. Saves her from a bad marriage. He plays the serenade. Gives her a hand kiss. Is ready to accept Astrid as his child. Offers her his beating heart (yuck), etc. Frankly, it's a good overall approach for me !
And even if it's frankly not cool to haunt her in recent years, the film suggests to us that it's really due to a connection between the two characters. So that balances it out a bit.
Frankly, the antis greatly exaggerate the issues of ship Beetlebabes and the character of Beetlejuice.
It's like those who say he's a pedophile, when he only seeks to marry Lydia for convenience in the first film, not because he has feelings for her. Plus people seem to forget that Beetlejuice comes from an era where girls generally married at the age Lydia was in the first film...
But hey. Really thinking about these is a bit hard obviously for the antis.
And I'm not even going to bother talking about those (like this second person) who think Beetlejuice having a picture of Lydia from the first movie on his desk is creepy...
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screechingfromthevoid · 12 hours
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So like they've been talking a lot about how they're all a bunch of fuck ups. And while sure they're all a little unstable and unpredictable, I don't really think they are fuck ups? Outcasts sure. People who have had a lot of bad shit happen to them? Yeah. People who have made mistakes? Who hasn't.
Like Laudna didn't really fuck up. She had the worst things imaginable happen to her, then was given exactly 0 time to heal. All the while she was being manipulated by someone who was supposed to "care" for her.
Imogen was neglected by her father and ostracized by her town and honestly came out as normal as she probably could have. When she was out on her own, with Laudna, they seemed to do pretty well?? It's just, being the leader of a group is new to her. It takes a while to adjust.
Ashton was used as a science experiment by their cult leader father. Then was dropped in the middle of nowhere where they found a family that didn't love them as much as they loved them. They had to make a lot of hard decisions on their own and just because they're not lawful good decisions doesn't mean they were wrong or bad.
Fearne being classified as a fuck up because did meet her warlord fathers expectations is crazy to me. (I know what they were getting at by calling her a disappointment. Doesn't mean I have to like it) On top of that, she had years stolen from her as a price for her parents actions.
FCG was programmed a certain way and they fought against it at every point they could. Their literal programming. Being taken over by something hardwired into I don't think counts as fucking up?
Braius was lied to then excommunicated. it seems like letting Nott and Jester in was like the only thing he did wrong his entire life?? He was hella devout before that??
Chetney is 4,000 years old and fucked his way through exandria. He doesn't have a family to disappoint and hes been making children's favorite toys for like ever. He hurt some people along the way but like. Does that constitute as being a fuck up?
Dorian literally did what he was supposed to do. His parents had a rumspringa and to imply that he's a fuck up for literally doing a rite of passage is beyond me. (If you wanna talk about fuck ups ask me about Cyrus) And even on his rumspringa he became one of exandrias greatest hopes.
And Orym. His insisting incident? The thing that set him in this course? His husband and father dying. In the same battle that he fought in. That's the thing he "fucked up" on. Failing to save those closest to him. And idk I think it's pretty cruel to call him a fuck up for not being able to save them against Otoha. Who also killed him.
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antianakin · 12 hours
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What Anakin would have done to Padme if he found out that she had helped plant the seeds of the Rebel Alliance? (Based on ROTS's deleted scenes).
I don't think Padme WAS actually planting any seeds of a rebellion* (clarification on that below the cut), but I do think Anakin would basically VIEW it as equivalent to Padme starting a rebellion because, to him, loyalty to the Republic and loyalty to Palpatine are the same thing. His reaction to discovering this probably depends on at what point he finds out about it.
When we first see the Loyalists in the ROTS deleted scene, it's clear that this is a work that's been in progress for a whille, so Anakin could have theoretically discovered her actions prior to the events of ROTS. Anakin is loyal to Palpatine, so I don't think he'd be HAPPY about her choices at any point and he'd definitely try to talk her out of it initially. If we take his actions in the Clovis 2.0 arc as canon, then you can easily make the assumption that he could get very demanding and even violent towards her but he probably wouldn't go so far as to actually threaten her life. He might threaten to tell Palpatine, though, and that'd likely be the end of the Loyalists.
Now let's say he finds out at the beginning of ROTS, after he and Padme reunite but before Order 66. Anakin is literally days away from genocide here, days away from strangling Padme because he thinks she's betrayed him to Obi-Wan, so he can't exactly be called emotionally stable. We also know that Anakin would not take the information that she's actively committing treason against the Chancellor WELL because there's a scene in the film where Padme tries to point out that the Council might be right about Palpatine being corrupt and Anakin shuts her down. If he hasn't yet gotten the hints from Palpatine about Padme being unfaithful and untrustworthy, then he'd likely get it the minute he brought this information to Palpatine, and that could lead to violence against Padme. He MIGHT be able to hold himself back, but Anakin's pretty unstable for this entire time period, so even if he hasn't committed to being a Sith yet, the chances that he becomes violent towards Padme if he discovers something like this are pretty high, though he still probably won't be attempting to kill her yet.
If the discovery happens after Order 66 but before the confrontation on Mustafar (not sure at what point this would happen, it would have to be that night when he comes back to her for about 2 minutes I guess), we know what happens. It's exactly what happens on Mustafar. Anakin is immersed in darkness now and Padme pushing back on his choices, Padme seeming to reject him, pushes Anakin to kill her. There's no other way that that ends.
I don't think Anakin trusts Padme all that much even at the best of times, and I think Anakin's very black and white view of the world makes him so loyal to the Republic (and Palpatine by proxy) that if someone questions Palpatine, he assumes they're a traitor to the whole Republic. He can't even conceive of lying to Palpatine or withholding information from him because, to Anakin, this is equivalent to going against the Republic itself. Anakin's version of Padme that exists in his head is perfectly loyal no matter what, she HAS to be, so he won't accept anything else from her. If he discovered she'd betrayed Palpatine, it would be seen as a betrayal of the Republic and a betrayal of his trust in her. And I don't ever see that going well for Padme even if it doesn't immediately end with Anakin deciding to murder her.
So, TL;DR, Anakin would react badly to this revelation no matter what, but HOW badly he reacts and how quickly he resorts to violence likely depends on how early Anakin discovers this.
*Padme's not INTENTIONALLY planting the seeds of a rebellion. You can only claim that because her ACTUAL goal ultimately fails and Palpatine creates an Empire and Bail Organa is able to utilize some of the connections they made to get support for his rebellion. The goal of the Loyalists during ROTS is ONLY to take out Palpatine as the leader of the Republic somehow. It's considered treason against their leader, which is why they have to be secretive about it, but it's not really a rebellion. They're certainly not trying to take out the entire government nor are they actually rebelling against the Republic as a whole. Palpatine has just made himself so powerful that their usual avenues for removing current leadership and gaining new leadership are no longer available, so they have to go for alternative options.
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bomber-grl · 3 hours
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Deku Dating hc!! ୨ৎ
Pairing(s): Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader
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Creds ~ first divider: @/khaer 2nd divider: @/strangergraphics-archive Art: @/xuune/kaiihuna or @/_kaiihua on twt
HE IS SO FLUSTERED OMG
Not even an exaggeration, the moment you confessed it was like blud went into cardiac arrest
Once he regained his wits he reciprocated your feelings all in a couple of stutters and accidental muttering
How charming
All sarcasm aside, it really is endearing
Yknow how most of the people in class 1-A are unnecessarily weirded out by his muttering
Plus how Deku is more often than not, called names by his own fandom 💀
Well he thinks that way about himself too
Sure you get along more than just fine but seeing him apologize for being more than a little nerdy is shocking to say the least
I mean if anything his “weird” and nerdy self is literally part of his charm and you make this known
Reread that first bullet point for a hint to how he reacted to you telling him that
Anyway
It’s likely you guys met at UA
I mean it’s where he’s made the most friends at (if any) and the only reason he talked to you was either it was inevitable or he absolutely fan boy-ed over your quirk
If you guys had some sort of romantic connotation and you had to fight against each other in the sports festival he’d be pretty conflicted
Although, you’d probably not want him to hold back
If anything he’s just sorry about the whole ordeal 😭
As a boyfriend Deku is shy(?)
I mean just look at how he reacted to technically a none romantic gesture and just interaction - he’s definitely going to be flustered for the majority of you two hanging out
Overall he’s really sweet
Like genuinely it’s surprising that he’s never actually been with someone in a real relationship before
If you disagree… look at him in the beginning of the anime 😭💀)
At most he was probably jokingly asked out or asked out on a dare in the past
I do think that hero life would sort of interfere with romantic relations for you both(assuming ur attending UA)
So there’s times where meeting up or just hanging out would be difficult
But when you two can hang out- it’s really nice
You’re either going to fast food restaurants, going shopping or doing anything really-
These outings are similar in the fact that they all often end in you both fighting some villian 😭
There is this one instance where before the dorms were introduced- you and Izuku had stayed to train or clean- whatever it was at school
He got a call from inko and upon finding out you (someone he does nothing but yap about to her) were around, well, she figured she’d invite you for dinner
Queue you finally meeting Inko and if you’re nervous and want to get a gift of some kind Izuku is kind of laughing but also happy that you want to “impress” her
Even though she loves you already
When you meet inko, she’s is buzzing with as much nervous energy as Izuku is
Funny how similar they are
The dinner goes smoothly and if anything she just approves of you more
Now eventually dorms get introduced and so does sneaking around
Don’t tell me no one in class 1-a wouldn’t sneak around- they’re high schoolers and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t just want to have stereotypical sleepovers
Among those who would sneak around is you
Izuku is less likely to because he’s a bit shy and if he’s ever caught- God kill him now 😭
So ofc you end up sneaking to his room
Which sorta backfires because he loves all might and all might is just staring at you in every direction you look.
The merch is just too excessive
Even then, a sleepover is too much for him and in Izuku fashion- he gets flustered
It takes awhile for him to chill 😭
Holding hands? In the hall way?
If you manage to hold hands for 5 seconds before Iida or Bakugo mention it then you’ve got a personal best!
(Iida because he says no PDA, and bakugo cuz him and his big ass mouth always got something to say)
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A/n: hope u liked! ^^
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ghostorbz · 1 day
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Let's talk about the flipside
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Something I actually,,, really don't wanna do!! But I will anyway. This game turned out so fucking bad its actually ridiculous. First off,, what went wrong?
For me, it was:
-The stories
-The endings
-The characterizations
-All the feet?????
Spoilers for basically the whole game, by the way. Not that you should subject yourself to this. Trigger warning for like,, everything???
Let's start off with the stories and endings
OD ending:
Jecka has a major panic attack because of her,,, "job" and Nicole and ends up over dosing. Voluntarily.
Human trafficking ending
Jecka gets put into human trafficking by the police when all she wanted was her paycheck, her manager and somewhat friend Kelly dies.
Jeffery murder ending
Nicole murders Jeffery and she forces Jecka to not call the police by threatening her.
Ari dies ending
While drunk driving Jecka crashes into Ari while she's delivering food and she dies. Ari does, not Jecka.
Nicole's suicide ending
A tie in with the first game. Nicole gets stuck in hostage friendships while Jecka is forced to date her teacher for a good grade. She goes to in school therapy for it. Her heavily abusive dad finds out and Jecka runs to Nicole's house to find her dead.
First off, what does EVERY ending have? Jecka suffering. Suffering horribly. Rather from someone/herself dying, being abused, or just straight up depression.
Let's compare these endings with some of Nicole's endings
Nicole dies, Nicole sabotages a relationship, Nicole gets people to die, Nicole causes a girl's house to get burnt down, Nicole wins a court case, Nicole gets her house back, Nicole gets valedictorian. Of course this is only a small portion out of the two games. But notice how good things happen to Nicole in some endings? In some cases the bad endings feel justified because of how Nicole treats people, but not all of them are bad. Sure, some of them aren't deserved. My point is Nicole has good things happen to her along with the bad things.
Flipside has none of that. Jecka suffers nonstop despite doing nothing in every single ending. She isn't happy in any ending. Nothing turns out for her!!! We see time and time again how Nicole gets things to work for her whether she manipulates it or not. Nicole can have happiness. But Jecka can only suffer. A teenage punching bag. This girl has done nothing wrong to deserve anything she gets put through.
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Why is this??? Literally, what was the reason for this
All of the endings fucking suck. I hate all of them. But enough about that, let's move on to the characters
Characterization
Jeckas dad
On the surface he's a kind guy who donates to charity. But he consistently verbally (possibly physically?) abuses Jecka for no reason. Literally nothing can set him off. A flip of the switch type of abuser. We haven't seen Jeckas dad prior to this game, but it's evident he sucks. I'd say he's way worse than Nicole's mom, at least she is sometimes nice and tries to help out. Jeckas dad blows all his money on Emily (a teenager who went to Jeckas school), forces Jecka to get a job and verbally belittles her if she ever says anything to him. Everytime he speaks to Jecka her first response is "don't hit me." Is this supposed to be fnnuy? We see Jecka have full blown sob sessions and panic attacks because of him. If it is supposed to be fnnuy it isn't. It's just sad and scary. There is nothing comedic about the abuse Jecka goes though in these scenes.
Nicole
They did Nicole's character horribly in this. We see Nicole share compassion for Jecka, she doesn't have that at all in this. Her betrayal was the worst for me. It just,,, seemed so out of character for her to do something like that. Nicole literally sacrificed her free school hours by getting in trouble with the predatory school councilor just for Jecka to be able to smoke in peace again. Nicole cares for her, calls her cool and pretty multiple times. She spends all her time with her, and even when she dies in the first game she says "I didn't know Jecka that well, but tell her she's cool for me." The betrayal ruined her character, hell it isn't even her character!! I don't like how she threatened Jecka when Nicole was the one who killed Jeffery. Speaking of, the way she acted with him seemed weird to. She can barely stand sitting near him in the first two games, and she did,, all,,,, THAT with him??? Bullshit. I see so many people say "but Nicole is a sociopath, she doesn't care about Jecka!" Um,,, yes she does? I mean it's pretty clear she does. Jecka is the only person Nicole really cares about. They wouldn't meet in every single route if Jecka wasn't important to Nicole in some way.
Jeffery
Jeffery is weirdly obsessed with Jecka in this game. Yes, we've seen him like and do weird things but not to this extent. He has never acted like this before?? Its like they reduced his good qualities and doubled up his weird ones. Which isn't a bad problem, but it makes his behavior visibly different in flipside.
Mr. Katz
Introduced in the Re up, this game turns him into the worse person ever. Last time all he did was drugs, now he's sexually harassing Jecka and verbally abusing her if she doesn't comply. Then threatening her with her grades. Since he was a minor character at best this could just be a different side of him we haven't seen but knowing how many pedos there already are in this game I don't get why they wouldn't introduce this or foreshadow it in the first two games.
Everyone else,,,
Everyone else seems to be fine, Emily, Ari, Kelly, Kylar, and Crispin to name a few. Thing is these are all side characters, sure they can be important in a few endings but for the most part they don't play a massive role in here besides Kelly and Emily.
This game was advertised as "same comedy, different girl." But there's no comedy in this game, only torture. Maybe Nicole was right when she said life was a sick hopeless game.
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Okay, lets talk about the feet.
So,,, what the fuck? What was all that about? This literally took up half of the game, not a fucking exaggeration. Was it really necessary? The devs couldn't think of anything else? They were all really dragged out, it felt like it would never end no matter how badly I wanted them to. I guess you could say this line in the first game was some sort of foreshadowing
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This feels like a very poorly disguised fetish. Like blanket ghost costume type poorly disguised. In fact, all of the endings feel unnecessary. Most of these have even more twisted endings than the first two games. What's up with that? It feels like they're trying to filter their audience to people who would actually enjoy doing that type of shit to people.
No, fuck I don't wanna talk about feet.
Here's some random things I want to critic but couldn't fit anywhere.
-The jeckari scene felt weirdly out of place. I could've been cut out and nothing would've changed. It wasn't necessary. Sorry jeckari fans
-What was up with the councilor? I don't mean his voice acting (it was definitely different though, right?) But he was kind of out of character. Like, he had a whole "I'm so important and mysterious (but not actually)" vibe going on. The fuck was up with the riddle? And having a whole fucking warehouse of illegal videos? Yes he's a predatory creep but I don't think he would go that far. Also pulling out a gun and shooting Kelly and almost Jecka felt so,,, what??? He wouldn't
I swear fandoms understand characters more than the creators
-Jeffery is just randomly rich? Out of nowhere? Okay. Whatevers convenient for the plot, I get it
-Why is EVERY single man attracted to kids in this game, it's overkill. Sure people like that exist but they aren't every single person you meet
-Super short, only 3 hours of gameplay. Not worth the $15. The first two games are way better, just get those. Not like this game is worth anyones time. The first game is only $10 for an hour or 2 of gameplay. The re up is $15 for 4 hours
-Nothing felt quotable. Maybe I just haven't seen it enough to memorize half the script but there weren't any lines where I was like "oh haha that's silly to say as a reference." The first two games were filled with quotable lines. Most of flipside is either something about feet or Jecka being abused
-The "thank you" note at the end of the game was kind of immature, I don't really want a thank you for this? Ummmm,, okaaayyyyy??
-You barely even get to play, it's mainly you just watching. The first two games have you actively choosing what to do. Flipside only makes you choose maybe twice
-The whole "They're 18 now!! Look at all the fucked up things we can do to them now!!" is really showing. Stop it. It's still weird
-This game is supposed to be post-graduation, but we still see Nicole and Jecka at school, multiple times. Jecka even says they aren't even in school anymore and yet you can still go back to high school? Yea, who gives a fuck about a timeline anyway,,,
Okay, but was there anything good?
Ehh,, I don't really know. I only laughed at one scene and that's saying a whole fucking lot for a comedy game. The first two games had me dying from laughter, but every single scene in the flipside just felt upsetting. Nothing was fnnuy.
I did enjoy very few things.
-The art has heavily improved. The visuals were nice when they weren't about feet or Jecka being abused
-The hatman scene was the only thing I laughed at, I liked it
-I got pretty excited when I saw that Jecka had an MSI poster in her room. I like MSI so it was a nice little surprise to see
-I liked the tie in with the first game ending. I wish we got to see more of Jeckas reaction after Nicoles death though
-I thought the whole "if god isn't watching, who is?" thing was kinda interesting. But having me listen to a whole monologue kinda killed it for me
-Class of 09 always had super good voice acting, and this doesn't change. All of Jeckas panic attacks sound super real
Overall, would I recommend this game? Absolutely not. I wouldn't even recommend this to an already fan of the series, much less tell someone to start out with flipside. Flipside isn't worth your time or money, it isn't even worth this whole post! That's why it's over
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kitkat-the-muffin · 2 days
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I need to talk about Skybound and Seabound as narrative parallel seasons
Skybound! Sky! Lightning! Jay!
Seabound! Sea! Water! Nya!
Jay’s story is so focused on preventing further sacrifice only for him to give up his entire season in exchange for Nya’s life
Meanwhile, Nya’s story isn’t focused on the concept of sacrifice much at all, which only makes her final act all the more tragic because it never felt like the only solution, even if it was. She sacrificed her humanity for Jay’s life
And sure they both recover from it. Jay still remembers his arc and so does Nya, and Nya stops being the literal ocean after half a season, but the impact of their decisions still linger with them. The ninja went to prison for trying to bring Nya back in Seabound, and they pretty much died multiple times in Skybound trying to help Jay
And I wanna clarify that Jay’s sacrifice was not just his season, but the understanding of the season by his teammates. Only he and Nya remember Skybound, besides Zane’s hard-drive footage (which I assume is why Nadakhan got a mural on their villains wall lol), so Jay still retains his character development and Nya hers
However, no one else remembers what happened. Jay sacrificed their memories, their character development, but most importantly their respect. They don’t understand Jay in the way that Nya does, because they no longer remember the time he was leader, the pain he went through, the mistakes he made nor his atonement. And that is one hell of a narrative sacrifice
Skybound ends with the world returning to its former glory, while Seabound ends with the world becoming a shadow of its former self, and the team becomes lost without Nya (just like when they lost Zane in Rebooted)
The seasons parallel each other aaaaaaa
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marzipanilla · 4 months
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losing my fuckin' mind rn I genuinely thought they talked about her more, though I can't fathom why I thought that but I did
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ruporas · 1 year
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special operatives (silly interaction beneath read more)
[ID: Digital Art in color of Trigun Maximum, characters included are Wolfwood, Elendira, and Legato in a casual meeting situation. The piece consists of orangey yellow lighting and purple shadows. Wolfwood sits on the left side, facing Elendira who’s on the right. He’s seated on a plain wooden chair with one knee up and he’s holding the strap to his Punisher in his left hand while his right sits against his thigh, He has an irritated expression as he speaks to Elendira. Elendira is sitting in a fancier seat, her right arm rests against Wolfwood’s propped up knee, her left hand holds her suitcase. She’s sitting cross legged with an amused expression. Legato can be seen in the back at the center of the image in his mobile body case, one of his eyes shown to be glaring at Wolfwood. End ID]
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[ID: Sketch, uncolored comic. Elendira says to Wolfwood, “I’m not telling you to dedicate yourself to him, but just accept the situation at hand. We could get along better if we were on the same page.” Wolfwood responds, “Don’t peg me me for an optimist. I’m not dumb. But, I’m also not going to just live in resignation. Plus, I don’t have any interest in getting along with ya.” Elendira coos, “Aw, you sure? I have a wonderful shoulder to cry on when the weak people you’re trying to protect eventually dies in the coming months. Though, I guess it’s fine. Someone like you might just die before then anyway...” She snickers in her hand while Wolfwood is speechless and just glares. Legato is faintly drawn in the back, glaring at Wolfwood, muttering “worthless” repetitively. End ID]
#trigun#trigun maximum#nicholas d wolfwood#elendira the crimsonnail#legato bluesummers#YES they were together in scene canonically for only 1 Measly chapter. Yes legato dipped like 2 seconds later but listen#trigun has such a fun cast and such a vague sense of time that i love to just throw in whatever Chances of the gung hos meeting outside of#canonic time... i mentioned before but i do think ww just runs into them on occasion from town to town#this illust would have to take place after the remembrance of july though ofc since that was when ww first saw elendira... which is still#the funniest ww ever bc he was so Shocked. LIKE AGHAST... BC IT WAS ELENDIRA THE CRIMSONAIL. he was starstruckk it was so cute#elendira of all people deserve that kind of reaction though im glad that they hyped it up with ww of all people. bc its like wow even ww is#kind of intimidated! even though he gained his grips like 5 seconds later to talk back to her. which is why i think theyd have a funny#dynamic. and legato is just there. he does not care about them but he also hates them and it's fun to think about how that'd extend to#wolfwood after knives specifically left the gung hos up to him and then explicitly didnt say shit after giving ww a special little mission#it also is just like. legato is pretty passive in trimax until someone is actively betraying knives or when its vash#and ww also does not give a shit about legato bc he also is like. vaguely aware he'd lose in a fight. so all i make them do is stare at each#other passive aggressively. TRISTAMP on the otherhand is ridiculously insane for making legato genuinely hold enough aggression towards ww#to literally activate his character arc in the season sgmkdsgm cannot wait for final phase where legato not only deeply detest vash but also#bears a similar aggression towards ww. actually im not sure whether i should be Excited for that or not but it would be an interesting#ruporas art
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kashilascorner · 2 years
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just watched notting hill which is supposed to be like an epitome of a good romcom and... Well. Let's just say i highly disagree
#jab we met (2006) really fcked up my expectations of what a good romcom should be#also stuff like nothing serious (2021). it's not enough with the pretty cinematography the colorful#(pun intendes cause they're all white) cast of side characters and the chemistey between the lead actors#i need their background their baggage their context how they actually connect as human beings and change each other#otherwise you're just preaching a stupid idea of what love should be and making up a story where the main couple#go back and forth because PLOT but it's actually because there's practically nothing going on between them in terms of actual trust#you're selling infatuation as love and they're not the same#so in notting hill we know anna has all these troubles. we know she has been in an abusive relationship one after the other. we know she#has a bf by the time she meets the guy. we know that but we never EXPLORE that. we see she's deeply hurt that her intimate#photos were leaked and that her relationship with the guy (her only solace) was revealed to the press but we never really DEAL with the#consequences of that. we're TOLD the guy is a hopeless romantic and an pverall decent fellow. they let drop he dated bella at some point#and worst of all we know he got divorced recently. but we never see his ex wife we know nothing about her he doesn't seem to think#about her at all which is odd at best for someone who claims to both be very devoted to the one he's in love and also claims he's#only been in love twice (bella & his exwife) before anna. we don't see their baggage just hear it. we don't see them talk it out or work#through it and when anna reacts roughly surely because of stress and trauma the narrative ends up putting her in the wrong (though to be#fair he isn't protrayed as being in the right exactly). the film is supposedly all about illusion vs reality and anna's deakre to be seen#for what she is (just a girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her thing) but actually the movie is about infatuation. a deep#one sure buy not about love. it's about solace but not nuance. it's fairy tale but fairy tales don't work in real life. we're supposed to#strive for the fairy tale which is literally completely impossible to achieve#effective romance movies and romcoms have that fantasy element for sure but they stay grounded. if not in plot surely in human connection#laura watches stuff
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blkkizzat · 3 months
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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜
PART 3
part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series
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⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)
⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.
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Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.
Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.
Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.
“You’re such a fucking slut.”
His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.
“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”
“N-No I—”
Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.
“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”
If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.
Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 
You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 
The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.
And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 
Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 
You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 
“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”
A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.
“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”
You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.
“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”
Choso wasn’t wrong. 
You knew what those boys wanted from you.
Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 
Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.
Choso was making damn sure of that now.
“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”
Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.
“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 
You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 
It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 
Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.
Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.
“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 
SMACK!
“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 
His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 
Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 
Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 
Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.
“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”
Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.
You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 
You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 
“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…” 
You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.
“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”
The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.
“P-Please C-Cho I—”
—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 
Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.
“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”
You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.
“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”
You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 
“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”
Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.
“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”
Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.
“—eventually.”
Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 
Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.
Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.
“Strip.”
It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 
Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.
Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.
Was it really new? 
Or was this side just new to you? 
You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.
But this other side? 
Well, he was a dealer.
You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 
You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.
You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 
Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.
He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 
In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.
So this must be how he is in the streets. 
“Go on now, princess.”
The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 
Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.
“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”
You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.
“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”
You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.
Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.
Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 
Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 
Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 
You were nervous—good.
“Knees.”
Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.
Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 
In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 
Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.
Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 
Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.
“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”
“—anything!” 
Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.
“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 
The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.
Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 
Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 
You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.
The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.
Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.
However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 
Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.
Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.
“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”
Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 
This is how you should be. 
Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.
Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 
His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 
“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”
Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.
Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 
But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 
Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.
Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.
Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.
Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 
“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”
Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 
Your lips are mere centimeters apart.
You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.
“Not yet, baby.”
You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 
“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”
If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 
You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.
Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.
His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.
“You let anyone touch these?”
The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 
You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 
Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 
Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.
You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.
Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 
Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.
Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.
That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.
“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”
His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 
You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 
Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 
“N-no!”
Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.
“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 
“Then show me.”
Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 
He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 
Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 
Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 
You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 
The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.
Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 
You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.
However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 
Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks
“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”
You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 
“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”
The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 
You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 
His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 
Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.
Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.
Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.
All for him. 
You were still his even after all this time.
However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.
“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”
Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.
“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”
His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.
“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”
You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.
You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 
Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 
“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”
Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.
“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”
Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.
Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.
God you were virgin-tight again. 
Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 
In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.
That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 
This was all your fault after all. 
Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.
“Tell me what you want, princess.”
Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 
Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 
“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”
“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 
Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 
“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 
The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 
“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”
Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 
You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.
You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.
Who was Choso to you?  
Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.
Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 
By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 
You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 
You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 
Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 
That was enough.
Goddamnit.
Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 
This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 
Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.
“M-My boyfriend!”
Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.
Had you really missed your chance to be with him?
Would he just fuck you and leave after?
Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 
Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.
The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.
“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”
A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”
Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.
So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 
Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 
“So—who am I?”
The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.
Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.
“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”
You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.
“NO, DADDY!” 
“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”
There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.
“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”
Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.
“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”
Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.
Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 
Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 
Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 
SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 
You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.
Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 
“Come on, princess…”
Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 
The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 
But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 
Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.
“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”
Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.
Sighing, Choso relents.
“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”
No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.
God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.
Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.
Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 
Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.
Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 
You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.
He just needed you to be good and take it. 
And take it you did.
Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 
Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.
“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”
But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.
“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 
Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 
Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 
Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 
It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 
You still had a year of school left.
He couldn't knock you up. 
Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 
Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 
“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 
Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 
Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  
Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 
Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.
“No.”
The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 
“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”
And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 
“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”
Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 
“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”
Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 
“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”
Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.
School. 
The sorority. 
Your presidency. 
None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 
The walls quake even more violently. 
The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 
Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.
“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”
Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 
Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—
“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”
On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 
All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 
Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 
“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”
Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 
No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 
This can’t be happening right now.
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
You needed to cum so bad. 
Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.
You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  
“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”
You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 
Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 
Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.
“Heh.”
Are you actually choosing him for once?
Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.
The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.
“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”
You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.
“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”
For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.
“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”
You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 
Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 
Your cock.
“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”
Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.
“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 
“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”
Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.
Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 
He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.
“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”
Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 
“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”
In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.
Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.
In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 
“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”
Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.
“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”
The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 
Damn—you’re so perfect.  
Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 
His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 
Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.
Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.
“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”
Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.
“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”
All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.
“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”
Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.
Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 
“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”
Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.
Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.
“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 
Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  
“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 
Oh fuck… 
And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 
Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.
You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.
Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.
“MHMMM FUCK!”
The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 
If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.
“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”
You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.
Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 
The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 
“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”
Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 
Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 
Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 
You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 
However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 
Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.
Typical…
The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.
Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 
You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 
There was still so much uncertainty. 
Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 
You’d meant it though.
Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.
You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.
“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”
His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.
“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”
You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.
“N-No, Cho—”
Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 
You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you— 
“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”
“Bet.”
Wait…huh?
Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 
You’re left speechless.
“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”
Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 
“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”
Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.
Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.
Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.
“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”
Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 
Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 
But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 
Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—
—MUTHRFUUUUH!
Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.
Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.
There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 
You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.
You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 
And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.
You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 
Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 
He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 
Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.
Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.
Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.
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⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.
taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.
reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!
4K notes · View notes
specshroom · 6 months
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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selfcarecap · 11 days
Text
Both
✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Storm
✧ summary: Storm and Logan are both hopelessly crushing on you. When they realise that they both like you, they get into a silent competition about who can win you over first… until they realise there might not be a need to make you choose; or: You have a threesome with Logan and Storm
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✧ warnings: smut 18+, threesome, oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, creampie, liiittle bit of ass play, use of dildo between reader and Storm, I think those are the main things, reader is sub-ish and Logan and Storm are more dominant, reader gets called baby, good girl, princess, pretty girl, bub, nothing happens between Logan and Storm btw because I’m a jealous bitch, reader is shy and a bit awkward, this is definitely mostly porn but romantic feelings are implied too, reader is bi, talking about coming out, but reader is in denial about her crush on Storm and also on Logan bc she’s oblivious and a lil insecure tbh, mention of being drunk, they’re all mutants but it doesn’t rlly come up, Logan is taller than the reader, the part leading up to the smut is a little unserious lol they’re all just whipped but yeah it’s kind of a different fic from my prev Logan ones idk it’s more just fun for the first part; also alternative title is BOAF but I didn’t know how many people would get that lol
✧ word count: oh. umm 11k (the main smut is 4k at the end if you wanna skip to that loll I’ve put a divider (stars) so you know when it starts, you don’t necessarily need to know the backstory)
✧ note: Recently watched X-Men 1 for the first time (yeah i know) and these two are literally the definition of bi panic whaaaatttttt + also I called her Storm and not Ororo(?) because I’ve only watched X Men 1 where they just call her Storm so that’s the only way I’m familiar with her, so yeah idk if anyone else wants this combination of characters but i def do so <33
-
You’re focussed as you do your daily stretches, completely oblivious to Storm and Logan watching you from the other side of the gym. 
They stare as you bend down into downward dog and you make a little exhausted noise at the stretch. Logan almost flinches with how good it feels to hear it; with his enhanced senses it’s as if you’re moaning right into his ear.
Storm’s eyes trail up your legs, over your pink gym set that clings to you in all the right places. She watches a pearl of sweat slide down your belly – she wishes she could lick it off your skin. Logan thinks about making you sweat more if he finally gets you in his bed one day.
He clears his throat after you slide down to your knees, arch your spine and let out a little contented sigh at the welcome stretch. A movement to his right catches Logan’s eye. Storm is standing right next to him, hands on her hips, mirroring his own position.
Is she here to stare at you too? Not that that’s what he’s doing. He was training here himself and was done a few minutes after you got here. Resting his eyes is part of the cooldown – you just so happen to be in his view.
“You training today?” Logan breaks the silence.
“Trained earlier this morning,” Storm answers, folding her arms, “What’re you doing here?” She sounds almost accusatory.
“Just finished my workout. Making sure she’s fine with the weights.” Their eyes drift to you, still stretching.
“She said she might use weights later,” Logan adds, averting his eyes.
The only thing Logan doesn’t like about his little crush on you – if you can even call it that – (you can definitely call it that) is that it sometimes makes him nervous, even if just a little. You’re so sweet and so shy and you’re usually oblivious to his flirting. He’s not used to that.
“Aha,” Storm nods with suspicion and slowly walks out of the gym.
Logan sighs a breath of relief and hopes you didn’t hear any of that. He stops himself from looking at your cute little gym outfit again and leaves to shower.
-
Later that day, Storm knocks at your bedroom door, “I’ve made lunch if you want some.”
Her voice is so angelic, you think, and you briefly wonder if that’s a normal opinion to have about your friend. It’s not just her voice, but those pretty lips her voice comes out of – just from woman to woman. She has nice lips. That can totally be a platonic compliment.
You realise she’s waiting for you to answer as you just stare at her gorgeous, gorgeous face – okay, maybe you do like her as more than a friend.
“That’s so sweet of you, I’ll come join you,” you put on a high-pitched platonic voice.
You’re sitting down at the table getting your plates ready – Storm made your favourite food, said she was just craving the taste today – when Logan comes in. 
“Brought my own lunch, thought I could join you?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, sitting down next to you. 
“What if you can’t?” Storm says, an eyebrow raised, though playfully. 
“And what would your explanation be?”
“We need girl time.”
You’re looking between them with wide puppy eyes. You’re not sure if they’re being playful after all. Their faces soften when they look at you.
“Maybe Logan can stay for lunch and we’ll go to your room later?” you suggest, “We can have a sleepover tonight.”
Storm’s face lights up, “Good idea.” You miss the smirk she gives Logan, who then huffs. 
Logan takes off his leather jacket. You’re sure that’s just your mind playing tricks on you but it almost looks as if he’s doing it deliberately slowly, showing off his big, defined arms. You’re drooling like a dog.
He reaches across the table and your eyes stay glued to his triceps until you hear your name.
“What?”
Logan smiles down at you, “I asked if you could pass the salt.”
You swallow and nod, eyes searching for the salt, but Storm gets there before you. She firmly presses the salt shaker into his hand, and his arm is gone from in front of your face. You resist the urge to pout.
A moment later though, Logan reaches out for the pepper himself, “Sorry, just needa…” He fumbles with the shaker across the table. This time his arm is angled differently and your eyes land right on one of those delicious veins on his skin. 
Storm is kind enough to pass him the pepper too, but this time you think you audibly sigh with frustration when Logan pulls his arm back to his body. You focus on eating instead of panicking about whether either of them heard that.
Storm swallows down her jealousy after watching you mesmerised by Logan’s arms for what felt like an eternity with no idea how obvious you were being.
She finishes her glass of water and gets up to get more. She looks at Logan as she walks to the sink. Two can play this game.
With her back turned to the both of you, Storm undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and places the pendant of her necklace right between her breasts. When she sits back down, she leans her elbow on the table and pushes her forearm right against the side of her tits. Your eyes are immediately drawn to them like a honeybee to a flower.
Storm bites back a smirk. She remains silent so as not to pull your attention away from her cleavage. She wants you to get lost there as long as you need to.
Logan rolls his eyes at her and asks you to pass some food from across the table, pulling you out of your trance.
You see the next exchange of looks between the two of them – their eyes do all the talking. You look away and realise… are they flirting? You thought they were mad at each other, having a silent argument, but now you think you might have been wrong. They’re teasing each other. 
You can’t decide if you should be jealous or turned on. They’re the two people you have a crush on – again, platonic crushes, obviously. If they got together, in whatever way, at least they’d make a hot couple for you to stare at. But you’d also be devastated that it’s not you who gets to be with either of them.
A quiet sound catches your attention – Storm’s fingernail against her necklace, the necklace that’s nestled right between her breasts. You briefly wonder if she’s trying to get Logan’s attention with it, but in that moment you don’t feel jealous. You just appreciate what’s in front of you.
With your elbow perched on the table, you’re leaning your head against your hand, and you notice too late that your arm is sliding off the table. You gasp when your head loses its support and you sit up quickly, gaze pulled away from Storm.
Heat blooms on your face and you lift your glass of water to your mouth to cool yourself down. But the picture of Storm’s perfect boobs lingers in your mind and you spill half of the water. It rolls down your neck and to your chest, and before you can even consider drying off, Storm’s holding a folded up napkin to your skin, patting from your collarbones to the neckline of your low-cut top. 
“Awh, there you go,” she’s done patting you dry and gives you a reassuring smile. Your nipples get hard at the close contact. You hope she doesn’t notice.
You hear a scoff from Logan. Maybe he got something stuck in his teeth. Or maybe it’s directed at you and Storm.
“Thanks, Storm,” you smile your sweet smile and finish your meal. 
But you’re not oblivious to what’s going on between them – the looks they’re giving each other – and you don’t know if you like it yet. Not that your opinion matters, sadly.
-
You bring your own pillow to Storm’s bedroom that night for your sleepover, but she’s got her bed made up all comfy with more pillows than you could need.
“Didn’t know how many you needed,” Storm tells you from in front of her mirror, “I’m so happy we’re doing this. We haven’t had any alone time in so long. Been so busy.”
She’s braiding her hair for the night, hair pulled to one side as she curls the bottom of her strands around her finger, her beautiful neck now exposed. You think about falling to your knees and begging for just one touch. Maybe draw your finger across her skin, or better yet – your lips. The way friends do. 
It’s between the first and second film that you decide to finally say something. You were going to ask her during a boring scene of the romcom you just watched but it suddenly turned into a sex scene. You did your best to seem unbothered and tried to move naturally, scratching your head and flexing your wrist. You’re not sure if it worked.
“Soo,” you turn to your side to face Storm as the credits play, “You and Logan?”
You reach into the bag of gummy bears between you and Storm, attempting to seem nonchalant, as if her answer won’t affect you.
She looks a little panicked, and you’re afraid you know what her answer is going to be.
“What about us?” she asks.
You give her a suggestive look but she waits for you to say it.
“Well, is there something going on between you two? I felt like you were flirting during lunch.”
“No, not at all,” she says almost too quickly, “We’re just friends, if that.”
“Really? You’d make an attractive couple.”
She lowers her voice, “We’re really not into each other like that.” You believe her, and withhold your big breath of relief.
“And anyway, I prefer women,” she adds.
“Really? I mean, yeah, I thought you might. I wasn’t sure. I do too, by the way. Well, I like everyone. I mean not everyone obviously but I like all genders. Not that that’s relevant.”
Storm smiles at you sweetly and puts a soft hand on your wrist. “Of course it’s relevant. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”
You giggle nervously, “Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this house.”
Storm’s heart swells in her chest.
You continue, “Well, and Logan obviously.” 
Oh.
Obvious, is it?
Well, Storm can work with that.
She picks an incredibly gay film next. She didn’t do it on purpose. She just happened to see the film on Netflix. Sure, perhaps she chose it because there were two women in the picture, but she genuinely wasn’t aware how much sex was in the film.
You’re squirming beside her, even more than during the straight romcom you just watched, and it drives her crazy. She’s just better at hiding it, but she’s turned on too. She wishes she and Logan hadn’t fought over your attention during lunch; if you hadn’t thought that there was something going on between them you might have been ready for more tonight. But she ignores her desire for you, holding her arm tightly as she presses her nails against her skin to relieve some pressure.
When the film is over, Storm tells you how she realised she likes women. When she was little, she had a crush on her babysitter, and ever since then she just knew. You grow bashful when she asks you for your story.
“Uh, Halle Berry as Catwoman? That did it for me,” you tell her as your cheeks heat up. Storm only vaguely remembers the film, but she still has in mind that all of her friends told her that the main character looked like her. 
It’s not that she didn’t know you were attracted to her before, but that solidifies it. Now she just has to get rid of Logan.
-
Storm is busy the next day and you miss her presence the entire morning. You woke up before her, your hands still intertwined from when you fell asleep like that, and – like a fucking loser idiot – you imagined what it was like to be her girlfriend and wake up next to her every day.
Now that you know she doesn’t like Logan, you can fantasise about being with her again without the jealousy looming underneath if he got her before you. And she didn’t just say she wasn’t attracted to him (which is crazy) but that they’re both not into each other (which is crazy of Logan). Both of your crushes are safe.
You decide to try out a new stretching routine to distract yourself from how much you’re missing Storm, your bestie who has no idea how much you like her. The positions are nothing you can’t do, but they’re definitely more challenging than your usual.
Logan’s not expecting to see you when he enters the gym; you’re not normally here at this time.
“Hi,” he says. Your head is between your legs as you’re bent upside down. He crouches down to smile at you from between your thighs.
You grin, standing up to turn towards him to say hello. 
“Y’need some help?” He asks. It’s more of a rhetorical question, he’s being polite.
“Actually, there’s this stretch I can’t get into. I think I should be able to do it, but I just need someone to help push me there.”
Logan huffs out a laugh. This is like the porn he plays in his head every night with you and him in the starring roles. “Of course. Where do you want me?”
-
It’s even better than he could have dreamed. He thought you’d need him to hold your hands and pull to add some resistance, but now you’re bent over in front of him and he’s pushing you into a stretch like a pervy gym instructor. 
You keep letting out these little huffs every time you ask Logan to push you further. They sound awfully close to moans. His knee is pressing into the back of yours like you asked him to but you keep asking for more.
He changes up his position, standing behind you fully. If he moved even an inch forward you’d feel his cock pushing against your ass. Logan would usually feel like he’s taking advantage with all the thoughts running through his mind about little innocent you but you’re the one arching even further into him.
He thanks himself for his level of self control and how he manages not to get hard with your pretty ass pressed up against him. It fuels the animalistic side of him and he wants nothing more than to fuck you right here, right now.
It was obvious that you were attracted to him before, but with the way you’re pushing back against his crotch makes him realise that it’s far from innocent.
“Thank you, that felt really good,” you tell him when you stand back up, losing balance after hanging your head upside down for so long. You use Logan’s chest to brace yourself, palms against the hard muscles there. His hands fly to your waist as he makes sure you’re alright. You nod shyly and, with another quick thanks, quickly make your way to your bathroom.
He’s got you. Now he just has to get rid of Storm, and she’s really good with you.
-
You check in Storm’s room after a long shower, but she’s still out. You find Logan in the kitchen; he’s looking through the almost empty cabinets. 
“Wanna go shopping?”
-
You didn’t think grocery shopping could turn you on, but everything Logan does makes you want to rip off his clothes. 
The little things fuel your crush in more heart-warming ways. Like how he picks all your favourite foods, holds the package up to you to ask for approval and places them into the cart that he’s pushing along with one hand as if it’s not full to the brim. 
He’s got it all down even to the most obscure snacks you like. It’s sweet that he remembers and it makes you as dizzy as you felt during your sleepover with Storm. It’s not like you really have a chance with either of them, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you’re fine liking them both.
But it’s his touch that drives you crazy. 
You’re trying to reach a snack on the top shelf. You’re on your tiptoes and your fingertips are only an inch or so away from it. Just when you’re about to give up, you feel two strong hands on your waist, lifting you that tiny bit with no effort at all. 
“There you go,” Logan smiles down at you, taking the package from you and putting it in the cart. Your body still buzzes with the sparks of his touch. 
You’re not very helpful for the rest of the shopping trip. All you’re doing is staring at him. You almost fall to your knees when he reaches up to the top shelf and his shirt lifts a bit. You think seeing even just a tiny sliver of his abs might be the highlight of your day, until you remember how he was pushed up against you during your stretches earlier. 
God, you’re so into him. 
-
Storm finds Logan as soon as she gets home. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him since your revelation yesterday yet.
“She’s in her bedroom,” Logan tells Storm when she comes in, assuming she’s looking for you.
“I need to talk to you,” she crosses her arms, “She told me yesterday that she thinks we’re into each other.”
Logan cringes, “What, us two? Is she blind?”
“Apparently. I told her that it’s not like that but I don’t know if she believed it. She thought we were flirting with each other at lunch the other day instead of with her.”
“Alright, we just need to stop making it so obvious we’re fighting over her. Let’s just not get in each other’s way and she’ll choose whoever she’ll choose.”
“Yeah,” Storm agrees.
Logan smiles, “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled when she spilled the water. I mean, come on, that was so unfair, I can’t just press a napkin to her tits.”
She laughs, “Okay Mister Bicep, we both have our benefits.” They smile at each other.
Storm huffs, and reluctantly admits: “I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your abs.”
“I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your chest.”
They’re standing next to each other now, staring at nothing, consumed by thoughts of you. They’re so into you.
“When did you realise you like her?” Storm asks.
“I don’t remember an exact moment but it’s just, her gorgeous fucking face. And her whole clumsy thing just does it for me, I don’t know.”
“I like it too. She’s so adorable when she gets all awkward.”
“It makes me want to fuck her so bad,” they say at the same time, then laugh quietly.
Logan clears his throat, “Not to be crude but I’d fuck all that nervousness out of her.”
“Me too. Until she’s so exhausted she can’t even begin to overthink anything.”
They exchange a look – this is getting too heated.
“May the best one win,” Logan concludes, and with a last nod at each other, they both leave the kitchen.
-
It’s a mutual friend’s birthday that week, and all three of you are going to the party.
You’re walking to your room the evening of the party, and Logan opens his bedroom door just as you’re walking past it.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Logan asks, “I need help with my outfit.”
You smile. It’s an excuse to stare at Logan, of course you’ll help.
He changes his shirt about five times – even though there are only two that he can’t decide between. But every time he changes his top, there are a few seconds in which he’s half naked – his muscular, hairy, gorgeous chest and abs exposed, with that thick happy trail reminding you why it’s called that – and you forget all about what the previous shirt looked like.
You watch him change yet another time, quietly sighing to yourself because at some point you have to decide. You watch him button up his shirt and let your eyes roam over the lower part of his body. 
His trousers are hugging his legs so deliciously, they must be tailored. And that sexy belt he always wears keeps sparkling with the reflection of the light, as if you’re not staring at his crotch enough anyway.
“So this one?” Logan asks. 
“Y-yeah,” you nod, as if he doesn’t look equally good in both shirts anyway. 
“What do you think of the material?” He asks. You smile, getting up to feel it. 
You place your hand on the side of his arm, trailing down it, feeling his muscles while you pretend to be feeling the shirt. 
“I like how it feels,” Logan says, looking down at himself and rubbing his fingers over his clothed chest. You follow, bringing your palm to his collarbone to trace his body, from his chest to his lower abs. 
“It does feel nice,” you say. It’s a normal dress shirt, made from whatever material they’re usually made of, but with the warmth of Logan’s body it’s one of the best things you’ve ever felt. 
Distracted by his body, you don’t realise Logan looking down at you, tracing your every feature with his eyes. He can practically see the water pooling in your mouth, and he doesn’t need his enhanced senses to know that you want him in this moment. 
He clears his throat and it makes you lose your balance, gripping Logan’s shirt to steady yourself as his hands fly to your waist. 
“Careful, bub,” he smiles and you feel the heat on your cheeks. How can this man make you stumble without even moving?
“Are you gonna wear a tie?” you ask quietly — you can’t trust your voice right now. 
“I’ve got one here,” Logan passes it to you. He feels like a tie might be a bit too formal for a birthday, but he won’t stop you from staying close. 
You go on your tiptoes to drape the tie around his neck, nervously fiddling with the fabric. “Actually, uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie,” you admit, giggling at your own words. 
“That’s okay, bub, I’ll show you.” 
You don’t retain any information as Logan helps you with his tie, guiding your fingers with his big, warm hands over yours. 
Your breaths intertwine from standing so close, and you don’t even realise that you’re on your tiptoes again, trying to get as close to Logan as possible. 
You know that he can hear how fast your heart is beating, but when his tie is on and you smooth it down against his chest, you feel his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage. 
Logan looks into your eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and you know what’s going to happen. You’re about to kiss. 
He gently places his hand on the side of your face, leaning in. 
Just when your lips are about to touch, you hear Storm calling out your name from the hallway. 
“Uh, Storm was gonna do my make-up,” you stutter, Logan’s hand still on your face. He silently drops it and smiles sadly, “yeah,” he says. 
He moves back to stand in front of the mirror, taking the tie off again, “Think this is too much.”
You nod, “yeah. Sure. I’ll see you later.”
You walk out of Logan’s room with a weird feeling, but as soon as you get to Storm’s room it’s like nothing just happened. 
It smells so good in her bedroom, a mix of her perfume and hair products and her clean bed sheets. She smiles at you, patting the bed for you to sit next to her. 
You close the door behind you, creating a space for just the two of you. It always feels like that when you’re with her, even when there are other people around. Except for Logan maybe; he’s the only one who can get in without even trying — but it’s still different when it’s really just the two of you. 
You’re immediately lost in the world of beautiful Storm as she presents to you her outfit for the night; it fits her every curve and contour and you briefly wonder how you could ever think of her as nothing more than a friend. It breaks your heart that she only sees you as one, but it doesn’t stop the desire you have for her and the joy you feel when you’re around her.
Storm does your make-up on her bed, both of you sitting cross-legged with your knees touching. Her hand is placed gently on your face as she does your eyeshadow.
“You’re so naturally beautiful,” she tells you in her calm voice, “Don’t really need any of this.”
You feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. She just means it as a friend, she just means it as a friend.
You gulp, “Wish I looked like you. You’re so gorgeous.”
She smiles at you softly, “Thank you, but you’re perfect like this. Lips.” You open your mouth slightly so that she can apply your lipgloss for you. Even though she’s using the applicator, it feels as intimate as if it were her finger.
She called you perfect.
Your eyes go down to her lips and you realise she hasn’t put any product on her own lips yet. You’re not sure what comes over you at your next question.
“You want some too?” you ask, breathless, staring at her lips. Even though you’re not looking into her eyes, you can see her looking down at your lips and she smiles a beautiful, sexy smile and nods.
Storm briefly presses her lips to yours, the way straight girls sometimes do at parties – except that neither of you are straight and you’re not at a party, and you doubt that straight friends feel like this after kissing each other. You pull away instinctively, you don’t want her thinking that you could ever even assume that she likes you like that. You’re just friends, and you know that.
Still, you can’t resist reaching out a finger to swipe the excess product over the top of her lip, and you let out a nervous giggle when you notice that her eyes are still on your lips.
An alarm on your phone interrupts you; you set it for 20 minutes before you have to leave to make sure you have everything. You didn’t notice how close you and Storm were until you both pulled away at the noise. 
The alert pulls you out of your Storm induced warm cloud, an uncomfortable feeling settling on your skin. Being the good friend she is, Storm realises immediately.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, a soft hand on your arm.
“Nothing, I just get nervous about these types of parties sometimes. There’ll be so many people I don’t know, and it’ll be so big and loud. I was thinking of taking a shot or something.”
Storm smiles, “Not that I’m against a little shot for courage, but d’you wanna know something natural that always helps me calm down?”
“Mhm, what is it?”
“I feel like a nice orgasm always makes me calmer. Just a quick one with my fingers or a vibrator.”
Her words knock the air out of you. Somehow, you manage to respond. “I’ve always wanted to use toys but I don’t have any. I should really get one,” you chuckle nervously.
“I’m happy to share one of mine if you don’t mind,” she looks deep into your eyes and all you can do is nod your head pathetically. There are some types of thoughts you’ve done your hardest not to let into your head – she’s your friend, she wouldn’t want you thinking about her like that – and now she’s the one putting them there on purpose.
She twists her lips, almost.. nervously? and, in a low voice, says: “You think an orgasm right now would help you?”
Again, you don’t manage to say any words but you do nod your head, biting your lip. 
“You wanna do it yourself or can I stay?” she asks, one shoulder pulled up seductively.
“S-stay,” you stutter.
“I could eat you out if you want, but no pressure. I just feel like that’s the quickest way.”
You take a deep breath. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through your head, but maybe she’s just horny. During your sleepover the other day, she told you how she hasn’t had sex in a while, and how she gets off on making her partners come, so maybe it’s just a natural desire that she wants to make someone other than herself come again for once. It’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, but you revel in the knowledge that she at least finds you attractive enough to want to make you come, even if it’s just as a friend.
You’re also confused. Your ex always took hours to make you come with his mouth, but, still, you believe every word coming from Storm’s pretty lips.
You nod, “Ye-yeah. If that’s okay with you. That’s a very uh, very nice, friendly favour.” You have to make sure she knows that you’re not delusional, thinking this is more than friendly. 
As you squirm in your seat, you miss Storm’s little sigh of frustration at your oblivion. Instead of pitying herself, she decides she’ll show you why you should be more than friends.
“Y’ready?” she asks, blessing your ears with her bedroom voice.
“Yes,” you breathe. 
Your next breath catches in your throat as Storm leans in to press the most gentle kiss you’ve ever experienced to the side of your neck. She’s warm and soft and smells like heaven.
Her lips slowly press along your pulse point, the tip of her tongue darting out as she makes her way up to your ear. Her teeth scrape along your earlobe, but she doesn’t bite. You almost whimper when her warm mouth is gone from your ear.
Storm slides her hand to your jaw, moving her thumb to your lower lip, “May I?”
You nod quickly, and she pulls your lower lip down, sliding her thumb into your mouth to wet it.
You suck on her thumb, mouth watering at having her so close. Storm takes her hand away from your face with a satisfied hum and gently folds your skirt up to your hips, pulling your panties to the side.
She giggles, “y’got such cute underwear.” You look down and remember the panties you decided to put on today – pink underwear with cherries and a red lace trim. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it, let alone Storm. Before you have time to get embarrassed, her thumb is on your clit.
You gasp at the first contact, and your knees buckle. You’re glad you’re already sitting down. She goes to kneel on her soft carpet, sitting down between your legs.
Her breath is on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.
“What a pretty fucking pussy,” Storm whispers, more to herself, and impatiently pulls your underwear out of the way more harshly, making sure it stays there. She looks up at you from between your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, and you bite your lip.
This doesn’t feel so friendly anymore. Unless she just gets off on making her pretty friends come.
Storm sucks her thumb into her mouth to wet it again and begins to gently rub your clit in circles. She realises how wet you already are and smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit. 
“There you go,” she says quietly, and then puts her mouth on you. She runs her tongue through your folds and she’s so gentle. You’re torn between enjoying it and wanting more.
“Feels so good,” you mumble, and Storm grips the flesh of your thigh to hold you still. 
She smiles against you, “Yeah?” and brings her middle and ring finger to your pussy. Licking your clit, she pushes two fingers into you, slowly making her way inside even though you’re more than wet enough.
Your pussy makes a squelching sound against her fingers as she begins to fuck into you, curling her fingers up to rub against your g-spot. You gasp when you first feel her there, your head dropping to the side in pleasure as you moan.
She pulls her fingers out to suck them into her mouth, tasting you with a satisfied hum, “Taste so good, baby.” You get even wetter at that name alone, squirming beneath her gaze.
“Be a good girl for me and stay still, okay?” she asks, mouth connecting with your pussy again as she looks up at you. You nod desperately, hoping she can’t feel the intense heat spreading over your face down to your chest.
She slides two fingers back into you, fucking you gently but precisely, and you already feel the excitement building up in your belly. Storm’s tongue dances over your clit, exactly how you need it to. The only thing missing now is just a liittle more friction.
It’s like she can read your mind, continuing to fuck into your wet pussy at a steady pace, as she begins to suck on your clit. You see stars immediately.
Her mouth has been on you for only a few minutes when she’s got you coming on her tongue and fingers. You whimper her name as you arch your back, hips chasing her face to prolong your orgasm as it crashes over you in waves.
She pulls her fingers out and rubs your clit for a bit longer until you’re squirming again, patting your pussy before she gets up. “Good”, she simply says, biting her lip.
“You feel better?” she smiles at you, innocently sucking your arousal off her fingers as if it’s something she’s done a million times before. As if it’s a normal thing to do with a friend.
“Yeah, much better,” you smile shyly, wondering how to ask her what that was.
She sits down right next to you, pulling your panties and skirt back in place, keeping her hand on your thigh afterwards. She smiles at you, and it feels so intimate. Storm reaches for the lipgloss again, “It’s all wiped away. Here.”
You smile and let her apply the lipgloss again. Storm places a hand on the bed next to your hip to lean in as she does so. She puts the lipgloss away but stays close. She looks at your lips. Your heart starts beating furiously in your chest – she’s about to kiss you.
This time it’s Logan who interrupts you. He calls out your name from the hallway, it’s time to leave.
Storm sits back, “you ready?”
“Yeah,” you nod. She takes your hand as you leave her room. You don’t let go even when you see Logan, his eyes immediately finding your intertwined hands.
He doesn’t know what it means. There are plenty of platonic girlfriends that hold hands. 
You don’t know what it means either, but you know you like the feeling.
-
You don’t mean to get drunk but that’s kind of what happens when you subconsciously try to keep up with mutants with healing factors that make it almost impossible for them to get drunk.
You arrived at the party still hand-in-hand with Storm and spent the first half joined at the hip with her. Logan couldn’t even get you alone for a second because every time one of you left for the bathroom the other went too without hesitation.
Logan finally finds you alone in the kitchen, looking for another drink.
“Y’sure you should have more to drink?” he smiles.
You notice him then, “Logan!” you run over to hug him.
Being drunk makes you more affectionate.
“Can you mix me a drink?” you ask Logan, his arm still around your waist. It feels good there.
“Maybe you want water for now?”
You pout at him drunkenly, taking a step back and folding your arms, “You’re just jealous you can’t get drunk. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”
Logan lifts his arms in defence, “‘Course you’re allowed to, bub. Just making sure you’re up for it. What do you want?”
-
You, Logan and Storm end up in the living room at the mansion. You’ve been very entertaining in your drunk state but, more importantly, you decided to hold one of their hands each in your lap in the back of the car on the way home. They know you get like this when you drink, and they’d never try anything with you like this, of course. But they could have a bit of harmless fun.
It’s your idea to play never have I ever, but the two of them are just as happy to. You’re playing the game with water instead of alcohol, but that’s probably better for you anyway.
Storm and Logan resist the urge to make the game sexual; they’re unsure what you’d be comfortable with if you were sober. You’re the one who makes it explicit.
“Never have I ever…” you’re leaning the bottle of water against your cheek to cool yourself down, “had a threesome.”
The room is immediately struck with tension. Logan and Storm exchange a look that you miss. How have they not thought of this before? 
You look at them expectantly.
It’s a perfectly innocent statement – well, innocent in a way that you’re not implying anything to them specifically. Even in your wildest thoughts you’ve only fantasised about one of them at a time. 
Your eyes are on Storm but she shakes her head. Logan drinks. He shrugs, “Been alive for so long, you try some things.”
You’re torn between arousal and jealousy, but settle on arousal. You forget all about the game.
“I’m not that experienced,” you tell them honestly, “I’d love to experiment a bit but I get shy. Not that I’m– um, not a threesome necessarily. I’m just saying.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes.
“How many people have you been with?” Storm asks, voice soft.
You swallow, unsure whether to count her or not. Does it count if it was with a friend? “Just my ex boyfriend.”
“There’s been no one else?” Logan asks, and you shake your head in embarrassment.
“I told you I’m shy.”
“Nothing wrong with being shy,” he says, “It can be endearing. Don’t you think, Storm?”
When you turn to her, her eyes are already on you, “I agree.”
Your face feels hot and you’re suddenly nervous. They’re both flirting with you, if the alcohol isn’t deceiving you, and you don’t know who you like more. You think of some stupid ‘never have I ever’ statement to change the topic. They do you the favour of playing along.
It’s not long until you all go to bed, going your separate ways but not without a long hug from both of them.
-
The next morning, Logan and Storm meet in front of your room. She’s made breakfast for you and he’s brought you water and some aspirin.
“I should have thought of that,” they say at the same time. Logan knocks at your door.
“It’s us,” Storm says after another knock.
You’re not in your bedroom.
They look for you in the entire mansion, but you’re not there.
“Maybe she’s walking off her hangover,” Logan shrugs, starting to eat the food Storm made for you as they’re standing in the kitchen.
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They don’t see you all day.
Storm’s in the kitchen in the evening, starting to worry. She knows you’re not far, and you can handle yourself, but she’s worried you’re embarrassed about what you said when you were drunk, or regretting what you did before the party yesterday.
There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and she knows it’s you before you’re there.
“Hey,” she smiles when she sees you.
“Hi.”
“Haven’t seen you all day.”
“Sorry,” you sit down next to her, a shy smile on your face, “Didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed to think.”
Storm breathes. “Yeah, that’s okay. What were you thinking about?” Her heart starts beating faster.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about what Logan said yesterday. And I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting things and I don’t want to make anything awkward between us or anything…” you look at her in worry, and she takes your hand. She’s not sure what you mean but she knows you need her encouragement to say it. 
You continue, “I don’t know but maybe… maybe Logan could show us what a threesome is like?”
All the worry on your face melts away when Storm grips your hand tighter and gets up. She grins as she pulls you upstairs.
She walks you to Logan’s room and, without knocking, pushes his door open, “My bedroom. Right now.” He follows you without question. 
“Lock the door behind you,” Storm tells Logan when you’re all in her bedroom. Your skin is on fire.
“Whats’s going on?” Logan has his arms folded, a smile playing on his lips.
His eyes are on you but you look over at Storm, who just smirks.
“Are you gonna make me say it again?” you ask, horrified.
“You got this, baby,” she tells you, and hearing her call you that again gives you courage.
You look at the floor, “Uh, I don’t know if you two want to do that with me but. I was thinking maybe we could, like, have, um, a threesome?” You were a lot smoother in your head.
Logan raises his eyebrows, “You don’t know if we want to do that with you? You tellin’ me you haven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on, bub?” He’s right in front of you now, hands holding your face.
“Uh…” you know he can feel your skin heating up under his fingers.
“Want you so fucking bad. Both of us,” Logan nods towards Storm.
“Oh.”
(Logan decides this isn’t the time to tell you that his threesome was with two guys.)
They both grin at each other and Logan walks you to Storm’s bed. They sit down on either side of you – you don’t even know where to look. You don’t know who to kiss first.
Storm makes the decision for you, gently turning your head towards her. You lean in without another word.
This time you get more than a peck. Her mouth is hungry and wet against yours, her lips soft. You’re kissing messily and loudly, and you do your best not getting on top of her yet. You pull away only because Logan’s there too.
“Been dying to do that since last night,” you smile.
“I know,” Storm giggles, “Knew you appreciated my friendly favour.” You hide your face in her neck at her teasing. You’re not sure how you could be so stupid. Now you know it’s more than friendship.
“What’s that?” Logan asks, an eyebrow raised.
You bite your lip, “We’ll tell you later.”
Before he can question it, you pull Logan closer by his shirt. His kisses are rougher, but not in a bad way. His beard scratches against your cheek with the desperation in his kisses, and he’s pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.
Storm starts kissing the side of your neck, the way she did last night, and you’re so lost in pleasure that you stop kissing Logan.
“Too hot,” you mumble, pulling off your top absentmindedly. They both stop what they’re doing.
“You wear stuff like this all the time?” Logan smirks, finger slipping under your bra strap. You forgot about the lingerie you put on for them.
You shake your head, “Thought we might do this tonight.”
Logan grins and starts kissing your shoulder, pulling one of your bra straps down with his teeth. Storm turns your head back to her and kisses you again – gentle, teasing pecks from her soft lips to yours. She kisses over your cheek and your jaw, begins to gently nibble on your earlobe.
Logan pauses when his mouth is at your wrist, “You know, bub, the problem with pretty lingerie like this is that it ends up coming off again real quick.”
You’re already so horny from two pairs of lips on you that you can barely speak. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me at all,” you mumble. 
“Can we take it off, baby?” Storm asks.
“Please.”
You feel Storm’s fingers at your back, opening your bra, and Logan is the one who pulls it off. 
They both sigh when they see your tits for the first time, moving to the breast closest to them. Logan thumbs over your nipple, gently playing with it while Storm wraps her lips around your other nipple. You feel yourself getting so wet. 
“H-how about—” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “how about you take your clothes off too.”
“How about you take them off?” Storm bites her lip. 
You nod quickly, lifting her top over her head to find her bare underneath. You trace your hands over her perfect tits, cupping them as your thumbs rub over her nipples and she lets out the sweetest moan. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan moving to take off his shirt so you quickly turn to him, grabbing hold of his shirt to do it yourself while Storm stands up to take off her trousers. 
You pull off Logan’s shirt and, even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, you’re mesmerised by the muscles and the hair and how good he looks. 
“Y’like what you see, bub?” He smirks and you bite your lip, resisting kissing him. You move on to his belt, trying to ignore how Logan gropes your tits as you get him naked except for his boxers. 
Storm sits between your legs, helping you out of your trousers and you all move to the middle of the bed. You’re panting before anything has even started, “Sorry, it’s just cause I’m excited,” you breathe, grinning with anticipation. 
“It’s okay,” Storm kisses you behind your ear. 
“So are we, bub,” Logan tells you, moving to press his lips to the side of your neck. He kisses further up, to your jaw, while Storm’s lips ghost over your collarbone on your other side. 
Excitement builds up in your belly, your skin tingling all over. You kiss whoever is closer to you – it’s Logan – and start making out with him. The only way to accurately describe the kiss is to say that it’s sloppy. Logan’s devouring you, licking your lips and into your mouth. 
You carefully feel for Storm’s face and don’t stop kissing Logan until she’s right next to you too so you can kiss her instead. She puts a hand behind your neck to pull you in, and you lean your hand on Logan’s leg to steady yourself. 
When your hand moves just an inch, you feel how hard he is, and how big. You force yourself to pull away from Storm, your lips already kissed raw.
Logan’s thigh tenses under your hand, “How are we gonna do this?”
“Don’t know, just wanna cum,” you say. You don’t want to seem petulant, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. Your underwear is soaked through and it almost hurts how badly you need to be fucked right now.
“We got you, baby,” Logan says, “Can I take these off?” He starts to pull at the waistband of your panties where they hug your hip, and you nod quickly.
Storm gets up to walk to her nightstand, but you can’t focus on her too. Your mind is on Logan all but ripping your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the carpet. 
He takes your knees to push your thighs up to your chest as you lie down, your head supported by a pillow.
“God, look at you. So fucking pretty. Look at her, Storm,” Logan says, spreading you open for him to take all of you in.
Storm smirks at Logan, “I know.”
You feel Logan’s eyes going between you and her, but she’s leaning down to kiss you so all of your senses are taken over by her.
“Got this just for you, baby,” Storm stops kissing you, pulling something out of the drawer of her nightstand. She’s holding a pink, soft silk bag, “Had a feeling you might want to play.” She pulls out a pink dildo, and you bite your lip as she kisses you again.
Logan asks you something twice before you register what he’s saying, lightly squeezing your ankle to get your attention.
“Huh?” you pull away from the kiss.
“Can I eat your pussy?”
You nod, “But I want you inside me.”
Logan smiles, “Alright, just let me get a taste first. Been dying to know how you taste.”
Storm lies down next to you on her stomach to kiss you some more. Her lips trail over your shoulders and move up to your neck.
Logan bends down so his face is between your legs, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so wet already, bub. So fucking pretty,” he smiles, moving to lick all the way up your pussy once. 
“Here,” he pulls your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them. He pushes two of his thick fingers into your pussy and puts his mouth on you. His tongue on you is fast and skilled, but you still need more.
“‘S not enough,” you whine, and Logan looks up, smiling.
“Need me inside?” he asks, wiping his mouth that’s smeared with you with the back of his hand. You nod, staring in awe as he finally takes off his boxers and you get to see his hard cock in all its glory.
“Y’gonna be okay, bub? It’s kinda big,” he teases. You can see that. But all you can do is keep staring with an open mouth and nod. Storm wipes some spit from the corner of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss.
“You got this, baby,” she tells you, cupping one of your tits while she strokes over your hair with her other hand.
“Yeah,” you say, eyes not leaving Logan’s cock.
“You ready?” he asks, bending down to give you a long, wet kiss.
“Mhmm, need it so bad.”
He chuckles as he spreads your legs for him again, rubbing the tip of his cock along your pussy. It’s so wet you can hear it.
Logan slowly pushes inside you, and you gasp when he fills you up. He’s big, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
“Theeere you go, bub. So fucking tight f’me. Taking me so well,” he starts to thrust into you in a gentle rhythm, fucking you deep but pacing himself.
It takes you a few moments to get used to his size, but Storm’s kisses at your neck help you ease into it. You can’t believe this is happening – you never would have thought you’d be with either of them, especially not with both and at the same time.
“Feels so good,” you moan weakly, pulling Storm to kiss you again. You whine when she lets go, but she’s sitting up at your side again soon, holding the dildo. You nod before she’s even said anything.
“Let me,” she leans over to Logan, who pulls out of you. Storm fucks your pussy with the cool silicone for just a moment, and it’s wet with your arousal when she brings it up to your chest. 
She teases you first, rubbing the wet tip of the dildo over your nipples, trailing it up your chest and over your cheek, smearing your own arousal over your face. You bite your lip in frustration, and look down to see Logan jerking off to the sight of you spread out for him. You can’t decide who of them you need more.
You’re salivating just at the thought of Storm fucking your mouth with the toy, and you hum when she rubs it across your lips.
“Close your mouth, baby,” Storm says when you’re about to take it in your mouth. She leans over you and lets her spit drop onto your mouth, smiling as she trails the tip of the dildo around your mouth, your lips desperately parting for it.
“Here, baby,” she says finally, pushing the dildo past your lips. You moan around it, taking the silicone as deep as you can. 
Storm fucks your mouth with it and all it’s doing is making you even more horny. The sound of Logan’s slicked hand on his cock stops, and he’s grabbing your thighs to spread them more, finally fucking you again. This time his pace is rougher, and it’s exactly what you need.
Storm’s wet lips are on your jaw as she continues to push the toy in and out of your mouth as you suck on it eagerly. She bites her lip as she leans over you to watch you, pushing the dildo in just a bit more.
“Doing such a good job, baby,” she hums, holding your chin.
“Yeah, being such a good girl for us,” Logan rasps, voice hoarse as he fucks you, “Look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around a cock.” You know he can feel your pussy clench around him at his words and he smirks, rubbing your clit with his thumb.
As you focus back on the cock in your mouth, you notice that Storm’s free hand is down her panties, and you can see her getting worked up too, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her tits.
You hum around the dildo and she pulls it out. “Wanna eat your pussy,” you tell her, voice almost whiny.
She smiles, sitting up to pull down her underwear. You reach out to touch the flesh of her thigh, and all you want to do is taste her.
You get up, disregarding how Logan slips out of you as you turn around to get on all fours. Storm sits down in front of you, leaning against the headboard.
“I’ve never done this,” you tell her, leaning down with your ass in the air. Logan positions your hips so he can rub the tip of his cock through your folds, and you take a moment to close your eyes and focus back on Storm.
“That’s okay, baby,” she tells you, “I know you’ll do well.”
You nod eagerly as you spread her legs, leaning in to press a kiss to her clit. You’re addicted as soon as you taste her. You open your mouth wider to lick up all of her that you can, attaching your mouth to Storm’s pussy like you never want to let go.
Her hand goes to the top of your head, careful not to mess up your hair as she spreads her knees wider to accommodate you between them.
You lick at Storm’s clit, tongue trailing down to taste her some more. You revel in the sounds she makes when you start to make out with her pussy, all but putting your face in it.
It’s then that Logan begins to fuck you again, pushing his dick all the way inside your wet pussy. He’s rocking into you so much that it makes your whole body move forwards and backwards with his thrusts, and you can barely focus on Storm’s pussy.
“Sorry, bub”, Logan says from behind you when he notices that you’ve stopped, but you can hear from his voice that he’s not sorry at all. You and Storm smile at each other as you grip her thigh to hold yourself in place and go down on her again.
You get the hang of eating pussy quickly, paying attention to the sounds Storm makes and what makes her knees tremble around your head.
She comes against your lips when you suck her clit into your mouth. Her hand is at the back of your head, hips chasing your face as you play with her clit through her orgasm. 
Being between Storm’s thighs as she comes ignites a fire in your core, and Logan’s fucking you so good, getting messy from how close he is.
You push yourself up on your arms to kiss Storm, smearing her wetness over her lips as you make out. She has to hold your face so that you don’t move too much with Logan’s thrusts, but you’re too weak to keep kissing her as you get closer to your orgasm.
“You close, bub? Gonna cum inside you,” Logan grunts from behind you.
“Mhmm, don’t stop, please.”
“I got you, baby, I got you. Doin’ so well,” he grabs your hips to fuck you even deeper as you arch your back. He hits that sweet spot inside you, and one of his hands sneaks down over your belly to rub your clit. 
Even though you can hear him starting to lose his breath, trying hard not to come yet, he plays with your clit in a way that’s perfect, and your orgasm has you biting back your moans because you’re scared of how loud they’d be.
Logan blows his load in you before you’re done coming, and it prolongs your own orgasm as he fills you with his cum, somehow even deeper inside you than he was before.
You almost collapse when he’s done with you, smiling as you roll over to lie on your back.
Storm lies down next to you and kisses you while Logan gets the bottle of water from her nightstand. She drinks a sip first and then passes it to you.
Logan chugs the rest of the water when you’re done, his adam’s apple bobbing as a drop of sweat slides down his neck. You follow it all the way over his glistening abs and down into his happy trail. You notice then that he’s hard again – or still hard – and you’ve finally got the answer to that question you’ve spent nights thinking about, wondering if his healing factor also applies to his sex drive.
“You want more, bub?” Logan asks as Storm starts kissing your neck in that way she knows how to do so well.
You nod as you sit up, Storm getting the dildo as she gets behind you, Logan sitting in front of you.
“Can I fuck you, baby?” Storm asks, hand trailing down the back of your spine and over your ass as you get on all fours again.
“Yeah,” you tell her, looking back at her with a smile, a new desire forming deep in you.
You get between Logan’s legs, leaning in to kiss him again. Every time his mouth is on you, it feels like he’s devouring you, and it’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had. He’s all tongue and teeth.
“Can I suck your cock?” you ask against his lips, your mouth squished up with his hand grabbing your face.
“Been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time, bub. Don’t know if I’ll last long.” You never thought you’d hear Logan of all people say those words, but it turns you on that you could reduce even a man like Logan to nothing but his most primal needs.
You grin as you wetly kiss down his chest, arching your back so your ass is in the air for Storm.
“So pretty,” she mumbles, lost in her own world as she runs the tip of the dildo through your folds, and you almost lose balance.
Logan’s cock leans against the side of your face as you kiss all the way down to his happy trail, and without further thought, you take him into your mouth. You can still taste a bit of yourself on him. 
Storm starts fucking you with the dildo just as you’re getting into going down on Logan, and you pull your mouth off his cock. Somehow the dildo feels bigger in your pussy than it did with your mouth. Storm knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Didn’t realise how big it was,” you say, steadying your hands against Logan’s big thighs as you fuck back against the toy.
“Not bigger than me, bub” Logan grumbles, and you giggle.
“We know, big boy. It’s not a competition,” Storm tells him, and even though you can’t see their faces you know this just became a competition for them. And you really don’t mind the two people you have a crush on competing on who can make you come more often.
“Can I play with your ass, baby?” Storm asks you when you’ve adjusted to the toy in you and you’re back to trying to stuff all of Logan’s cock in your mouth. You moan around his dick.
“What was that, princess?” it’s Logan who asks.
“Yeah, you can,” you turn to face Storm, “But I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. Logan, can you pass me the lube from over there?” Logan ignores her – it’s not on purpose, but you’ve gone back to putting your wet mouth on him and you’re sucking his cock, and it’s hard to focus on anything but your wet mouth.
You pull away and look up at Logan, and he passes the lube after seeing the pretty smile you give him.
“Fuck, bub, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, bringing your face up to his to give you a kiss and then getting up to sit next to Storm.
“Just relax for us, baby,” Storm says, and you’ll never get tired of hearing her call you that.
Logan rubs a hand across your ass cheek, kneading your flesh. He finds his discarded shirt at the edge of the bed, wiping down your inner thighs that are dripping with his cum to try and stop Storm’s sheets from getting too messy. 
He runs his hand softly up your spine as Storm squeezes drops of lube onto your ass. Logan’s hand goes back down, settling between your legs to gently play with your clit, not to make you cum but to relax you.
“So pretty,” Storm says absentmindedly as she rubs her thumb over your tight hole.
“Can you come over here?” you ask Logan, feeling weird with both of them at your back. You like having one at each side.
“I’m here, bub,” he sits down in front of you again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his meaty thigh instead. He gently runs the back of his hand over your other cheek as you sink down into the bed with your upper body.
Storm gently pushes the tip of her finger into your ass, “That feel okay?”
“Feels good,” you hum, letting her go deeper as she simultaneously starts to fuck your pussy with the dildo.
“Such a good girl, hmm?” Logan coos from above you and you sigh in pleasure.
“Doing so well,” Storm tells you, thumb hooked in your ass as she begins to fuck your pussy more roughly. You instinctively start fucking back, your hips moving on their own as you get up on all fours again.
Logan’s biting his lip as he watches you take Storm, hand reaching down to jerk off again, but you shove his hand away. “I wanna,” you pout, wrapping your hand around him.
“‘M not stopping you,” he tells you, sitting back as you make him feel good with your hand.
“I’m close,” you say, suddenly feeling the pleasant pressure between your thighs, looking back at Storm who smirks at your words.
She fucks into you more roughly, the added stimulation by your ass making you tip over the edge. You let go of Logan and grab his thigh to keep your balance as your orgasm flows through you, even better than the previous one.
She pulls out of you slowly, rubbing a hand over your ass cheek.
“Wanna make you cum again,” you turn to Storm.
“Later, baby, come sit on my face,” she says, and how are you meant to resist that?
She lies down on the bed and you straddle her, careful to balance your weight out on your knees rather than on her, “you sure?”
“C’mere,” she says, pulling you down onto her face, and you’re lost in the pleasure of her tongue on your clit for a few moments before you can even open your eyes again. You take Logan by his wrist and make him stand up in front of you so you can keep sucking his cock.
You suck on Logan’s dick as eagerly as Storm’s tongue is on your pussy, spit running down to his balls like it’s running down the side of Storm’s mouth. You hover over her to let her breathe but she pulls you back down.
“Don’t worry about me, I can handle you.”
She sucks on your clit with a new intensity, and you forget all about Logan’s cock as it slips out of your mouth and slides wetly across your cheek. You clumsily stick out your tongue, and Logan chuckles, “So fucked out already, hm?” He jerks off in front of your face, holding you in place. He begins to fuck against the inside of your cheek, filling your mouth with his cock.
You hum, not really listening but simply taking his cock in your mouth as the pleasure builds up inside you when Storm pushes her tongue into you. Her hands are on your ass and she sucks on your clit harder. 
Your back arches as you suddenly cum again, cheeks hollowing around Logan’s cock in the process as you suck him in deeper. Storm plays with your clit for a few more moments, lifting you to roll to the side, and your knees sink into the mattress.
“Such a good girl. Y’gonna make me cum again?” Logan says from above, and you look at him with puppy eyes as you take as much of him as you can.
“Been doin’ such a good job all night, baby. You can take him deeper,” Storm says, watching you. You’re going down on Logan but you want her praise too, so you take as much as you can of Logan under both their gazes.
“Fuuuck, baby” Logan groans, his cum spilling down your throat as you swallow him eagerly and he fucks your mouth until he’s finished, the wet sound of his cock in your mouth echoing through the room.
When he’s done coming, Logan lifts you to kiss him, and you know you still taste like him. Storm is on your other side, and you turn to kiss her, both their hands on you as you keep kissing.
-
You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve each had by the time you collapse in a tired heap of sweat and lust and endorphins. 
You’re sandwiched between them, your pussy feeling as warm as your heart.
“Not that it’s a competition but I think I made her come more times than you did,” Logan tells Storm over you. 
She props herself up on one elbow, smirking at you, “You wanna tell him?”
You shake your head shyly, looking over to smile at Logan. You’re close to falling asleep, only half registering what they’re saying anyway.
“Helped our beautiful girl calm down before the party last night. Tasted better than the birthday cake.”
Logan smiles, “Can’t even be mad at you, I would’ve done the same.”
They notice you drifting off, pressing gentle kisses to your lips one after the other. You feel Storm’s hand on your face.
“Look how gorgeous our girl is,” Logan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Those are the last words you hear before you fall asleep.
Our girl. You like it. 
-
P.S. reblog to get a kiss from Logan and let me know your fav moment/line/whatever to get an even sloppier kiss from Storm 😳🤭  (no but seriously skhksjhg😭, I appreciate every single reblog and comment a lotttt, even if they’re just short <333)
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kaijutegu · 8 months
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Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.
1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.
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Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.
Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.
Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.
2. They understand the social needs of their animals.
Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.
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For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...
3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.
The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.
Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.
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But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.
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4. Ethical Interactions
I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.
When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.
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Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.
Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.
And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.
5. Shared Research Results
St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)
Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/
All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:
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(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)
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