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#they tease him and then they make out. good for them!
nymphoniah · 2 days
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lessons learned | logan howlett
AN: here's a little drabble about logan fucking you from behind, keeping you in a headlock, squished between his biceps <3 and also some dirty talk here and there!
pairing: mean!logan x afab!reader
content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), dom!logan, choking, dacryphilia, name calling, porn without plot, dirty talk, creampies, unprotected sex, pet names (princess, doll, etc.), size kink, mark leaving (ie. hickeys), breeding kink, brat taming, rough sex
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logan sees the way you watch his arms hungrily, your lust blown pupils observing the way his muscles twitch when he's feeling tired. he knows the chokehold he has on you.
just a poor little thing, wrapped around his finger.
"i see the way you look at my arms, darlin", he grunts, manhandling you so your back presses against his chest, his toned arms snaking around your waist, keeping you locked in place.
"you don't even try to hide it," logan adds, pressing kisses against your shoulder, his hands working at the straps of your tank top, slowly sliding them down to reveal your tits.
"such a dirty girl, hm?" he teases, rolling the sensitive buds between his thumb and index finger.
"were you ever taught that it was rude to stare?" he hisses, tugging at your nipples, making you wince out in pain. logan smirks at your audible displeasure, now turning his attention from your tits to your neck.
"i’m gonna mark you up doll, ‘oughta teach you a lesson somehow," he growls. logan presses a kiss against the shell of your ear, making his way down to your nape, planting wet kisses along the way.
you lean forwards, giving him easier access to your neck—and when you give him an inch, he takes a mile.
his kisses get more erratic, sloppier, messier, hungrier. he can’t hold himself back, he needs to mark you, and absolutely wants to show the whole world that you’re his.
and so he sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your neck, paying sweet attention to how your weak moans escaped from your lips. he’d nip and suck at your skin, hard enough to leave those love bites you both oh-so carnally desire.
your brain is all fuzzy from the stinging pain you felt on your neck, mixed alongside the growing pleasure you felt between your legs as he simultaneously paws at your tits.
“i can’t take it lo, s’too much,” you whine, shutting your eyes tight. tears start forming around your waterline as he continues his assault on your neck.
just as your vision starts to get hazy, he wraps his left arm around your neck, keeping your face snug between his forearm and bicep.
“be a good girl and fuckin’ take it,” he commands, a singular claw popping out of his right hand, slicing through your mini-skirt to reveal your lacy black pair of panties.
sheathing his claw, he hastily pulls them down to reveal your sopping wet cunt. “fuck me…” he hisses, admiring your cunt in all its glory.
“such a dirty fuckin’ whore, you getting off on this?” he says smugly, slipping a finger between your folds, observing the way your pussy sucks him in.
you weakly nod as you remain sandwiched in his headlock. teetering between the lines of passing out and losing consciousness, you mumble out a string of words—something along the lines of “i need you to fuck me,” or “fuckin’ put it in”; they both mean the same thing to logan anyways.
he obliges, with one arm wrapped around your neck, and the other hastily working at the belt of his jeans. in one swift motion, his boxers and jeans hit the floor in tandem, freeing his cock from the confines of the tight denim.
he spits in his hand, pumping his cock a couple times before he finally lines himself up, and slides himself in, down to the hilt. your pussy sucks him in like a vice, the two of you moaning in unison.
“you’re so tight for me, princess.” he groans, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, fully sheathing himself out, and pushing his full length back into you.
the sound of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room. the pace of which he fucked you made you dizzy, the grip around your neck adding to the immense pleasure you felt in your cunt.
you attempt to press kisses against his bicep as the muscle secures you in place, but you fail to do so, as shown by your wine red lip stick smudged all over his arm.
“such a naughty whore, suckin’ me in like this” he teases, his free hand pressing against the bulge on your stomach, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust of his. “need this dick to fill you up, huh?”
and you whine as much as your parched voice allowed you to. “want you so bad, lo” you mumble incoherently. “need you stuff me with your cum.”
“such a filthy mouth for a sweet little girl like you,” logan grunts, the movement of his hips getting sloppier. “beg for it.”
“need you to fuckin’ breed me,” you moan, “make me yours,” you cry out— and that’s what makes logan snap.
with a few final deep thrusts, he finishes inside you. his hot ropes of cum fill your cunt to the brim; your arousal mixed with his cum leaks out of your sopping hole before he even pulls out.
he keeps his cock inside you for a minute, pumping whatever he has left inside of you, and finally pulls out. he winces, already missing the way your gummy walls wrapped tightly around his cock.
“need to keep that in you…” he says playfully, plugging your cunt with his thumb, the calloused pad making sure that his cum is stuffed deep inside you.
“now let that be a lesson for you, doll,” he quips, removing his thumb, slipping it into his mouth to taste the mixture of the two of you.
he then brings his thumb to your bottom lip, inviting you to have a taste for yourself. the heady taste of his cum combined with your slick had you moan around him.
he pulls his thumb away from your mouth with a pop, and you look up at him with your fucked-out eyes. you simply nod your head and give him a lazy smile.
surely it wouldn’t hurt to stare at him every now and then.
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nighttimealone · 1 day
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Cw: Nsfw (Simon notices the outline of your thong that’s hidden under your yoga pants)
Simon isn’t even sure whether you’re doing this intentionally, trying to tease him, or you truly doesn’t realize how you’re testing his restraint, how he’s trying so hard not to just push you against the nearest wall in the gym and go down on you right now.
Your back is facing him, just standing few feet away in front of him, wearing that tight yoga pants emphasizing your supple thighs and ass in the most delectable way, squatting and let out tiny grunts here and there. The worst part is, he can see the thong you’re hiding behind the yoga pants, the outline of it so clearly for him, good that it’s just you two in the gym now, or he might just drag you back home and hide you from others’ ogling.
“Hey, what-“ His hands grab onto your arm the second you set down the dumbbell, your yelps and confusion doesn’t recognize by him as he shoves open an empty shower room and pin you against the wall, his bulge pressing snuggly on your pussy.
He’s mad hard, already leaving a dark spot on his sweatpants as he rubs it against your core shamelessly.
“You doing this on purpose, princess?” Pulling down your yoga pants, hooking a finger over the thin strip of your thong, he tugs it with a slight grin, letting it slap back against your hips. And that’s when you realize that the outline of your thongs’ actually visible even with the pants on.
“I didn’t mean it, Simon.” The noise of the running shower can’t cover your moans and attempted explaining, because he frees his thick, leaking cock from his boxers, chest securing you to the tiles, so he’s able to drag that aching shaft along your pussy, fucking your pussy lips and prodding at the clit till you’re a blabbering mess.
“Didn’t mean it? but you still made it hard for me, love.” The bulb tip slide into your soaking cunt easily. He calms himself and pants beside your ears, trying not to come immediately from how tight and warm your heavenly pussy feels. “You know how sexy you were when doing those squats, shoving your arse towards me, and kept reminding me you had a bloody thong that couldn’t even cover your pussy properly under the yoga pants?”
He rocks his hips fiercely, letting out all the pent-up horniness with each deep thrust, directly abusing the sweet spots and coaxing moans after moans from you.
The usually quiet man groans loudly every time he wrenches an orgasm out of you, the shower wash off your juices dripping down your thighs, before your eyes roll back and cry out, messing them with both his and your cum.
“Gonna come…ngh, fuck…” Seeing stars can’t describe how cock drunk you are now when you squeeze your cunt around his cock and tumble over the edge, the white hot pleasure corrupting your mind, overstimulated to your limits when he hisses—almost comes too early from your spasming walls and pinch your clit as retaliation.
“Fuck, going to paint your pretty little pussy with my cum again…gotta-oh fuck” Simon’s voice trembles when slamming into you one last time, filling you up nice and tight with his release. He leans his forehead against your shoulder, recovering from the aftershocks of orgasms together with you.
“-Gotta claim this fucking pussy again, 's all mine, yeah?” Murmuring and pressing a tender kiss to your nape, he grabs the soap and start cleaning you up, more from the aftermath of the sloppy make-out than your previous workout.
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amirasainz · 1 day
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Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee
Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.
Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!
-XoXo
The Redbull Princess
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YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.
Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.
Exhibit A: The protective one
The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.
"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"
Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."
The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.
"You know, I can handle them."
Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"
"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."
Exhibit B: The gossip King
YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.
Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"
YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."
Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.
Exhibit C: The helping hand
The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.
"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.
Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"
Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.
Exhibit D: The personal chef
YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.
"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.
YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."
Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"
Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"
He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"
YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."
Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."
He grinned. "I know."
Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster
YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.
"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.
"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."
YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.
"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.
"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things
Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on
"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.
After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.
And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed
Sometimes actions speak louder than words
Exhabit G: The fashionista
Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."
YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."
Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."
And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.
Exhibit H: The mother-hen
George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.
"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.
YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."
"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."
She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."
Exhibit I: The proud dad
During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.
YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"
The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.
Exhibit J: Bwoah
In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.
"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.
Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"
YN laughed. "Deal."
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wizzdot · 3 days
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*short fic alert* (fic under page break)
Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!
The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.
You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.
The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.
Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.
You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.
“Need to watch my weight, love”
“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”
“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”
They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.
Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.
So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.
You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.
Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.
Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.
That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.
The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.
You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”
“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”
The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.
“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.
“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.
“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.
“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.
“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.
“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.
Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.
………..
Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”
………
Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”
………
Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.
You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.
“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.
You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.
Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.
“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”
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verstappenverse · 2 days
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What We Never Said
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: Max Verstappen, your best friend, has always been a constant in your life. But when jealousy surfaces over a recent date, it stirs emotions he hadn’t quite confronted. Is there more between you two than just friendship?
1.9k words / Masterlist
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Max had always been good at keeping his cool. On the track where everything is measured in tenths of a second and a moment’s hesitation can cost everything, keeping a level head was what set him apart from the others. But lately away from the track something had been gnawing at him, disrupting his usually unshakeable focus.
It wasn’t new this feeling it had been there for a long time, simmering quietly beneath the surface. Max knew that. He was painfully aware of it in every shared glance, every late-night conversation, and in the way your laugh could instantly pull him out of his darkest moods. For years you’d both kept things easy, uncomplicated, two best friends never crossing the invisible line that tethered you close but never too close.
At least that’s how it was supposed to be.
It wasn’t until a few nights ago when he overheard a casual comment at a party that Max realised how fragile that balance really was.
“I didn’t know you’d gone on a date,” your friend had said her voice light and teasing.
Max wasn’t eavesdropping intentionally he had been halfway through a conversation with another driver when the words hit him like a punch to the gut. He barely registered what was being said to him after that. His attention had been locked on you, watching the subtle shift in your posture as you casually replied.
“Yeah,” you said, like it was nothing. “We went for dinner and drinks, it was really nice...he was nice.”
Max’s hand had tightened around his drink. Nice. The word grated against Max’s nerves. The conversation around him faded into white noise as his mind fixated on what you hadn’t said, on what you’d kept from him. A date? You’d gone on a date? Since when did you go on dates without mentioning it to him? It felt like the ground beneath him had shifted, like something fundamental had changed, though he couldn’t quite explain why.
For the rest of the evening Max stayed quiet his usual easy-going demeanour replaced by something darker, something more brooding. You didn’t seem to notice or if you did, you didn’t bring it up. But every time he looked at you all he could think about was someone else sitting across from you, someone else making you laugh, someone else getting to know the parts of you that Max had always believed were his to cherish.
-------------------
He thought about it more than he should have over the following days, a slow burn of frustration and confusion twisting in his chest. It wasn’t that he had a claim over you but there had always been something unspoken between the two of you, and hearing about you with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, made it feel like everything was slipping through his fingers.
Max found himself at your door days later, heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of racing. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say only that the unresolved tension between you needed addressing.
The door opened and there you were, smiling like always, the kind that usually made his stomach flip, but today it only made him more tense. “Hey you,” you greeted stepping aside to let him in.
He walked in without hesitation, but his usual ease was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been able to shake the image of you with someone else. Max had tried to push it down, to convince himself that it was none of his business. You were your own person, free to do whatever – or whomever – you wanted. But the truth was, it did bother him. A lot more than he cared to admit.
He dropped onto your couch more tense than he’d been in weeks. You sat down next to him, your brow furrowing as you picked up on his mood. Max was many things, but unreadable was not one of them. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and right now you could sense the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. His jaw was clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off of him in waves.
“What’s up with you?” you asked, tone light but probing. “You seem… off.”
He wanted to shrug it off, say it was nothing, but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t pretend anymore, not with you.
Instead he turned toward you, his blue eyes sharp “Why didn’t you tell me you went on a date?”
Your expression shifted subtly, surprise, then confusion trying to place his tone, “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
A beat of silence passed, Max could hear the faint hum of the city outside your apartment window, but inside, the air felt thick weighted with something unsaid.
“I overheard you the other night,” he continued, his voice rougher than he intended.
You blinked, processing his words. “You overheard?”
Max nodded, watching you closely waiting for some kind of explanation that would ease the knot in his chest. But you just sat there, not defensive, not guilty, just calm.
You hadn’t kept it from him on purpose. In fact you didn’t even think it was that big of a deal. The date had been fine, nice, but nothing extraordinary, certainly not enough to warrant telling Max about it right away.
“It wasn’t anything serious,” you said after a long pause. “Just dinner. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
Max exhaled sharply running a hand through his hair. “And if it had been serious?”
Now you were even more confused. Your eyes met his then, a flicker of something passed between you. “Why does it matter?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Why did it matter? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, except confused. Maybe a little scared. The kind of fear that sinks deep, the kind that makes you realise you’ve been taking something for granted.
“Because it does,” he muttered quietly, his voice tight.
You leaned back slightly, studying him. There was something different about the way you looked at him now, more attuned to whatever was hanging between you. You’d always known that Max was protective of you, but this? This was something else entirely.
“You’ve never cared before,” you said, your voice quieter now, like you were piecing together a puzzle neither of you had fully acknowledged.
Max hesitated then sighed. “Maybe I should’ve.”
The words were out before he could stop them, and they hung in the air, heavier than anything he’d ever admitted to you before.
You didn’t respond right away. The silence stretched, uncomfortable in a way that it never had been between the two of you. And then, after what felt like an eternity you leaned forward resting your elbows on your knees hands clasped in front of you.
“Is that what this is all about? Me going on a date and not telling you?” You paused, your eyes searching his face,“Or is it something else?”
He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because of course it was something else. It had always been something else. He just hadn’t let himself admit it not until now, not until the idea of you with someone else had thrown everything into sharp, painful focus, and maybe that wasn't fair but he didn't know how he could go back now.
Max stood, pacing the length of your living room his mind racing. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered, though it was a lie. He did know. He just wasn’t sure how to say it, cross the line you’d both been skirting around, to take years of friendship and lay it bare without ruining everything.
“Max,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “Look at me.” You needed to hear him say it. You needed to know if what you felt for him was mutual or if you were reading too much into this.
He stopped pacing but didn’t turn around right away. His fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in a long time, Max felt completely out of control. It wasn’t like driving where every move was calculated, where he could read the car, the track, the competition with precision. This was messier, rawer, and there was no strategy for it.
Finally, he turned to face you his blue eyes meeting yours. There was no running from it anymore, no pretending that what he felt for you was anything less than what it really was.
“I didn’t like it,” he said quietly, the admission catching in his throat. “Hearing you talk about him… I hated it.”
You didn’t look away but your eyes softened, your expression still guarded.
“Why?” you asked, though your tone told him you already knew the answer.
Max let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve always wanted it to be me.”
The confession hung in the air, and for the first time with you Max felt truly exposed, vulnerable. The invisible line between you two, the one he’d always danced around, was gone.
All the emotions you’d been burying for so long, all the feelings you’d tried to convince yourself weren’t there, came rushing to the surface.
You walked toward him slowly, and for a moment, Max wasn’t sure what you were going to say, but when you reached him you didn’t say anything. Instead you just looked at him, really looked at him, like you were seeing him in a way you hadn’t before.
“I’ve always wanted it to be you, too,” you whispered, the words so soft he almost missed them.
“I didn’t want to ruin things between us,” Max continued, “I didn’t want to lose you. But hearing about you with someone else… it made me realise that maybe I’ve already lost you and I didn’t even know it.”
You took a step closer to him your heart pounding in your chest. “You haven’t lost me."
His heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, gently cupping your face with his hand. Your skin was warm beneath his palm and for the first time in days the tension in his chest eased slightly.
You didn’t pull away, you stepped closer eyes never leaving his. It was as if all the years of unspoken tension between you had finally come to a head, and neither of you could ignore it anymore.
He leaned in, slowly, cautiously, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. And when his lips finally met yours it was like everything he hadn’t been able to say, everything he’d been holding back for years, poured into that kiss.
It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, deliberate, a moment stretched out between two people who had spent too long pretending they didn’t want this. Max’s arms wrapped around you as the kiss deepened, but still, there was a softness to it a tenderness that spoke of the years of friendship, of trust.
When the kiss broke, you both stood there inches apart breathing in the moment. Max's hand lingered on your cheek his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
“You know,” you whispered, smiling against his lips teasing, “this is probably something you should’ve told me ages ago.”
Max let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “Yeah, well” he said, his voice low and teasing back, “I guess this means I can stop pretending I’m okay with you dating other people now," you laughed softly as he smirked "but I wasn’t too worried, everything’s about timing isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” you murmured, your lips brushing his. “I guess you got it right.”
"Finally," he whispered with a grin, before pulling you into another kiss.
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bpmiranda · 2 days
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Possession |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: possessive bf!logan, jealous!logan, teacher!reader, 20+ f!reader, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, marking kink
“Stop, Logan, they’re going to see.” You whisper, pushing on his chest lightly as he’s biting on your neck in your empty classroom, though you know it won’t be empty for much longer.
Logan doesn’t stop, he bites harder on your collarbone, and your reflex is to smack his chest which surprises you, you can tell it surprises him even more. “You don’t want them to know you’re mine?” He asks with a teasing tone, holding you against the blackboard and gripping your hips tighter.
“It’s just not appropriate.” You say, caressing his cheek lightly, noticing the sting in his expression which he is trying to mask. “I’m sorry. We’ve gotta tone it down, honey.”
Your relationship with Logan only began about three months ago, around the same time Charles Xavier first recruited you for his staff of educators. Logan was forward with his flirting and his intentions and you all too willingly fell for his charming personality and sweet compliments. You never could resist a man that knew what he wanted and went after it. Once you reciprocated his feelings, Logan became insatiable. He wanted you all the time, wanted to be with you all the time, and while you tried to understand that he was just a passionate lover, it was hard to get him to be low key so you could fly under the radar.
“I can’t,” Logan sighs, his forehead presses against yours and he kisses you softly. “I just can’t, princess. I need you.” His lips reattach to your neck and you whine softly as his hard shaft presses into your lower belly. “Please, baby, let me just slide it in.” One of his hands begins to bunch up the skirt of your dress and you quickly grab onto his wrist.
“Logan, I’ve got a class in ten minutes.” You urge, pushing him away again. He lets out a deep sigh, but he nods. “Can you wait for me?”
Logan smiles and he caresses your cheek softly. “Of course I can.”
You’re not afraid to get hot and heavy with him like you often do in private, but it’s different outside of your bedroom. Logan’s got some type of affinity for kissing you where someone might see you, he wants the other men in the school to see him touching you, it’s not enough that you are in an established relationship, he has to make it more obvious than that. “Baby, come on, you can be louder than that.” He says as you’re sitting sideways on his lap in the common area, his hand between your thighs where he’s rubbing your clit through your thin pajama shorts.
“Let’s go upstairs.” You whisper, your hand grabbing onto his wrist as you tuck your face into his neck, muffling your soft moans there. “Please.”
“Just let them see us, who gives a damn?” Logan murmurs, kissing your forehead as he moves his fingers underneath your pajama shorts and you gasp as two of them plunge into you. “I want them to know how good I make you feel.”
Sometimes it’s harder to say no.
When Warren Worthington arrives at the school and he’s tall with curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes, Logan immediately feels that he needs to mark you, claim you in a way that tells the newcomer you’re taken. Even despite your constant reassurance between the sheets that Logan’s the best you’ve ever had, he needs more.
There’s nothing untoward about the way you show Warren around the school, you’re perfectly polite and professional, but the business man’s son has grown up around polite and professional women. You were no different to him, his flirting was all the same, and you were flattered, but you had Logan. “Isn’t he a little old for you?” Warren asked with a little smirk as the two of you came back to the starting place of their tour, the dorms. His dorm.
You can’t help your light laugh as you shake your head. “In his defense, he’s nearly two hundred years old.” You say as you lean against the wall and Warren props an arm on the doorframe of his bedroom, smiling down at you.
“Does he still do it for you?” He asked, flashing those blue eyes that no doubt worked on plenty of young secretaries and schoolgirls, but you weren’t one of them.
Before you could retort, Logan suddenly appeared at your side and he shoved the young man straight into his bedroom, knocking the door open from the force, and Warren grunted as he fell onto the floor. Logan’s eyes are flaming with anger as he stares down at the shocked young mutant. “You’re grounded, kid.” Logan snarled before slamming the bedroom door shut and taking you by the arm. You didn’t say anything, you could only look at him wide eyed with compliance as he led you into your shared bedroom. “See what happens when they don’t know who belongs to who?” He says angrily as he makes you sit on the bed, his chest still puffed out as he towers over you, but you’re not scared of him. He’d never hurt you.
“Nothing was going to happen, Logan!” You stand as you snap back immediately, offended by the implication that you would’ve fallen for the cheap, sweet talk when you’re committed to him.
Logan only sits you back on the end of the bed and he unbuckles his belt as he stares down you. It seems as if he’s calmed down, but you know better. “Lay back.” He instructs and you want to refuse, but you don’t really want to fight.
As you lay down, Logan crawls over you and he settles between your thighs. His lips immediately attach onto your neck and you grab firmly onto his biceps as he’s licking and kissing that spot that makes you so docile for him. His arms cage you in underneath him, his hard shaft presses into your core through the thin material of your calf length dress, you swear you’ve never seen him so tame and then you feel it. His teeth bite down hard on your skin and he sucks harshly making you whine and writhe and push on him as he marks you. “Logan!” You gasp and he clasps a hand onto your neck as he continues marking you further down your chest, content with just one mark being visible for the time being. The rest are a reminder for you, not that you needed one.
“I can’t fucking stand it. Seeing them look at you. You’re mine, baby. You’re my girl.” Your hands instinctively pull on his white t-shirt, your mind is dizzy from how forceful he is with you, single handedly ripping the buttons of your dress open so he can suck dark hickeys onto your chest. “You’re too damn pretty to walk around all by yourself.” You bite your lip, your head rolls back as you enjoy the way his mouth leaves open mouth kisses along your belly while he completely opens up your button down dress. His thumb suddenly pulls your lip down and he kisses you, humming against your mouth. “Let them hear you.” He orders and you shyly nod. Once your panties come off, he wastes no time delving into you, hungrily lapping at your center, his large hands keeping your thighs slightly pushed up against your belly. “You’re too god for me, you’re too good for anyone, but I couldn’t live without you.” You’re holding on tightly to the bedsheets, moaning his name, telling him how good it feels, whining when he sucks so softly on your clit and a quake vibrates through your body. “You’re close, princess. Let me make you feel good. You deserve it, you deserve everything.” Logan groans as two fingers slowly occupy space inside you and your brows arch in pleasure as you mewl in response. “That’s it, go on, let go for me.” He encourages, sloppily running his tongue over your sensitive bud while his fingers pump into you and his thumb lewdly rubs through your folds. “There we go, beautiful. Just like that.” It’s all too much and you can’t contain a high pitched whine as your orgasm trembles through you, your legs wanting so badly to close to alleviate the sensitivity, but Logan’s one hand is much stronger than you. “Don’t fight it, baby, I wanna see you fall apart for me.” He coos, kissing your clit softly.
“Logan!” You cry, your back arching as your juices leak out of you, onto his tongue, and he growls from the taste, from the fact that they can probably hear you call his name in ecstasy and he can’t contain himself any longer
His t-shirt comes off swiftly and he brings you up onto your shaky legs, pushing the ruined dress off your shoulders and pulling his cock out of his unbuttoned pants. “C’mere,” He murmurs, easily lifting you up by the waist so you wrap your legs and arms around him, holding tightly onto him as he sinks you down onto his hard shaft and you gasp. “Love how you take what I give you, you’re so good for me.” Every vein around his girth drags against your walls and you tremble against him, his hands hold you up by your ass where he squeezes and fucks you onto him making you cry softly, your face tucks into his neck and you whine his name over and over. “That’s right, princess, who’s making you feel this good?” He purrs into your ear as he walks over to the bedroom door and fucks you against it, making your eyes water.
“M-m-mm! Logan!” You try to be quiet about sobbing his name as he’s rutting deep into you, but you’re unable to contain how he makes you feel. So cared for and owned, like his possession. “Logan, please! I-baby-ah!” Your arms tighten around his shoulders as you suddenly cum again, arching into him as your head tilts back and leans against the door. “Logan!”
Logan grunts as he pins you there, kissing your neck while whispering, “You’re all mine, princess. No one else can have you like this, I’ll make damn sure of that.” His chest flexes from the tension of his oncoming release and you softly kiss his neck, humming contently against his skin which gets him there. “Just-uh-mine, my girl-fuck-all mine, that right, beautiful?” He asks between grunt as he’s pushing himself impossibly deep into you, unloading himself right against your cervix and you nod weakly, fucked out as his thick shaft glides easily in and out of you from the added lubricant of him cum.
The two of you are breathless as you gaze at each other, the post-orgasm lull was always a moment of tenderness you enjoyed with him. “Always been yours.” You whisper weakly as he stills inside you, his hands squeezing your ass and your waist reassuringly. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” You say against his shoulder as he carries you over to the bed.
His weight gently rests on top of you as he’s not quite ready to remove himself from your warm, tight core. Not ready to let his seed leak out of you and you caress his back softly as he rests his head on your shoulder and kisses your jaw lovingly. “Can’t even bear the thought.” He mumbles and your heart skips a beat. Logan hears the irregularity in your pulse and he smiles. “I love you.” He says for the time since you’ve gotten together and a warmth spreads through your chest.
“I love you.” You say, caressing his cheek softly to get him to look at you. His green eyes hold such a softness in them you can’t help but melt. “Only you.” You tell him and he nods, kissing you gently, smirking to himself as he looks over the marks on your body.
Logan knows you love him, he does, but this is a reassuring way of showing others you love him, that you’re only his, and only he could mark you.
It has become a little easier for me to combine similar requests into one shots and this combines jealous!logan, possessive!logan, and reader with a praise kink:)
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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veritasangel · 3 days
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Can you do something with Simon and Price and reader? fluff or smut please:)
warnings: fem pov, contains nsfw content {mdni}, oral (giving/receiving), cum swallowing, handjob, threesome, price x simon
a/n: i haven't written smut in a while so it feels sloppy, sorry ↣ wc: 1.8k
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Thinking about being one of the newer members to the 141 and you’ve quickly attached yourself to price and simon.
Late nights, when the rest of the team had turned in, you were often sat between them both. Price lights a cigar; the all-familiar tobacco smell mingles in the night air, the dancing flame casting shadows over his face.
Ghost, on the other hand, pulls you into his side with soft ease, as if it were the most natural thing. His arm falls over your shoulders, his body relaxed in ways you'd never see during the day-not when he's the silent, sharp-edged soldier everyone else knows. But here, in the quiet night on the base, he lets his guard down just enough.
Price's eyes flickered to where Ghost had you nestled against him, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. Though it wasn't just amusement lighting up his gaze-there was something possessive in it, something knowing, like he and Ghost were sharing some silent agreement over your head. 
Price turned to you, "Comfortable?" he asked, his tone layered with something more than curiosity.
You nodded, the warmth spreading through your chest, though whether from the closeness of their bodies or the way the gaze of Price lingered on you-you weren't quite so sure. You shifted slightly, only to feel Ghost's grip tighten, his fingers curling around your shoulder.
"Stay still, love," Ghost said, his voice in that low rumble, the quiet way he always spoke, but unmistakable beneath the tone tonight. His hand slid down your arm, deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of fire behind it. "We've got you."
Price chuckled low and deep as he watched your eyes flutter innocently at Ghost's words. "Poor thing," he said, the humour in his tone bleeding away to something a little softer, "Reckon you're not used to all this attention, are you?"
Before you could even respond, Price's hand landed on your knee, his thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over the smooth skin. It felt like they were closing in on either side, enveloping you entirely, and you leaned into it.
"You don't have to do much, y'know," Price said again, and though his tone was teasing, it remained soothing. "Just let us take care of you."
Your words caught in your breath, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you tried to make sense of the change in air between the three of them, there was a possessiveness to the way they seemed so attuned to you.
Ghost's fingers brushed against your chin, his fingers tilting your head slightly towards him. "You're sweet, precious," he whispered, his eyes dark with the search for a reaction in yours. The edge in his tone was full of meaning. "Maybe a little too innocent for your own good, yeah?”
“I’m not-”
Price chuckled again, this time leaning in close enough that you could feel his breath against your neck. "It’s alright, nothing to be ashamed of," he said softly, voice almost a purr now. "Simon and I… we'll look after you."
His tone sent shivers down your spine, not out of fear but from the silent promise beneath his words. How their hands seemed to caress your skin in unison, touching you in a way that belied their sharp and deadly exteriors, your pulse racing at just the thought. You felt as though you were theirs-a shared treasure between them, and they had no intention of letting you go.
Ghost's thumb brushed your bottom lip and his eyes darkened just a fraction as he spoke again. "We'll take real good care of you, love. Won't let anything hurt you. Not while you've got us."
Price's hand had moved from your knee, drifting upwards to your thigh with slow, deliberate care. "You've no need to worry anymore," he murmured, the voice rich with the familiar comforting authority. "Between me and Simon, you'll always be safe.”
His touch was a blanket of warmth that wrapped you whole, and you couldn't help but sink deeper between them. By the way they looked at you, it was clear they'd taken it upon themselves to protect and cherish you-so long as you were willing to let them.
And of course, it wasn't long before these nights together turned into a whole lot more.
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Price's grip on you tightens as Simon licks along your slit, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to leave marks. He can feel your body tensing, your breath hitching as Simon's tongue flicks against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.
"That's it, love," Price murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let him take care of you. You're doing so well." His hands wandered your body; one cupped one of your breasts, and the other drew circles on your side. He leaned into you, his beard rough against your neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin there.
Simon's fingers join his mouth, sliding inside you as his tongue continues its relentless assault. Price can feel your body seeking more, and he grins, knowing just how much you're enjoying this.
"Look at her, Simon," Price says in a husky voice. "She's fucking gorgeous like this. All flushed and needy." He leans back, giving Simon a better view of you, and watches as Simon's eyes darken with lust.
Price presses his cock against your ass, grinding into you, a low groan breaking free from him. "Fuck, angel," he mutters. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect."
You can feel the heat emanating from Price's body; the way he seems to revel in this moment-in your pleasure-is intoxicating. Simon's fingers curl inside you, and you arch your back, a moan slipping past your lips.
Price's hand slips from your breasts down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles in perfect rhythm with Simon's tongue. The dual stimulation hits you at once, and you cling to Price, your nails digging into his skin as you allow yourself to fall deeper into the waves of pleasure that wash over you.
"She's close." Price growls, his voice hoarse. "You gonna’ come for us, pretty?" Simon's mouth works faster, his tongue flicking your clit with renewed urgency. 
You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, leaving you trembling in Price's lap. Simon continues, drawing it out as much as he can before he pulls back, his eyes dark and hungry. Price's hand stays where it is, teasing your sensitive clit a little as he watches Simon stand up, his own cock hard and ready. Price's hand slides away, and he stands too, tugging you up with him.
"Get on your knees, love," Price orders in a strong voice. "Say thank you to Simon."
Still trying to catch your breath, you fall to your knees in front of Simon. His cock, thick and heavy, beading with precum.You don’t hesitate to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip..
Price stands behind you, watching you pleasure Simon, his hand resting on your head. "That's it-" he praises, his hand guiding your head, "Take care of him like he took care of you."
Simon's hand finds its way to the back of your head too, guiding you as his hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your waiting mouth. 
Price watches, the satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he leans over, his lips meeting Simon's in a heavy, passion-filled kiss. His hand disappears from your head, now sliding to Simon's hip to pull him closer as their tongues dance.
You continue to pleasure Simon, your lips sliding up and down his shaft, your hand joining the effort to help the parts you can’t reach. The sight of Price kissing Simon only adds to your own arousal, the two looking as though it’s not the first time.
Price draws back from the kiss. "She's a natural, isn't she?" he murmurs-low and husky. "Takes’ to everything we ask her to do like she was born for it."
Simon nods, his eyes meeting yours whilst you continue sucking him off. "Fucking amazing," he agrees. "She's so goddamn responsive. I love seeing her like this."
"And she's ours," he says, a possessive edge to his voice. "No one else gets to have her like this. Just us."
Simon's grip on your head tightens as his hips move faster. "God, yes," he growls.
As his breathing becomes increasingly ragged, he reaches for Price's cock with his free hand. His fingers wrap around the shaft as he begins to stroke it in time with your mouth on him. 
The sight of the two of them, the way they work together is intoxicating, your body humming with arousal. Price's fingers tug your hair gently while Simon's hips buck into your mouth, growing closer to the edge.
Simon's thrusts become more erratic as his orgasm washes over him, ropes of cum coating your tongue, before you swallow, much to his approval. Price observes this scene, his own orgasm not far behind either.
Price groans as Simon's strokes bring him closer to his own release. "Fuck, Simon," he growls, voice thick with desire. "You're going to make me come."
Simon's strokes don't let up, his thumb continuing to tease the head of Price's cock. "Go on then" he orders, his voice low in his chest. "Let go."
You draw back, eyes locked with Price as Simon's hand works him faster. You can see the tension in his body, muscles pulled tight and ready to snap.
Price's breath catches, his body straining as his orgasm rips through him. He groans, his head falling forward onto Simon’s shoulder as his release spills over Simon's hand and some dripping onto you as his body shakes from the force of it.
As Price descends from his high, he looks down at you, his eyes satisfied. He reaches out, hand cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes away the white glob from your cheek.
"You're such a good girl" he utters in a soft, murmuring tone. "All ours."
Simon pulls you up into his arms, his lips finding yours in a deep passionate kiss. You taste yourself on him, and it only serves to turn you on further.
Price watches, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as Simon takes over the kiss, his hand sliding down your back to your ass.
The three of you fall onto the bed again, bodies intertwined. And in this moment, surrounded by their warmth and strength, you know you're exactly where you're meant to be.
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༄ cod m.list
© veritasangel ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works.
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Fuck being nice to you
Tags: Nanami x Reader, nsfw, mdni, exhibitionism, cock worshipping
An: I’m thinking about either doing a part two or an alternate ending where Satoru ends up joining in 🤭
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“Yn, this is ridiculous- Come out from under there… No, come on. Someone’s going to see you- You want me to…. Yn, darling, that’s too risky. I promise we can do whatever we want as soon as we’re home. Just let me.. Ngh~ fuck.. don’t… don’t look at me like that.. Oh.. my god, where did you learn that..? F-fuck… This is so… irresponsible- You’re going to.. ngh agh! .. pay for this, you little m-minx.”
That’s what Nanami sounded like as you climbed under his desk, begging to taste him while you two were at work. You had successfully undone his belt buckle, and pulled his length out from his boxers and slacks.
Nanami is such a handsome, well put together man. He always smelled so clean with an undertone of his woodsy cologne. He kept himself nicely groomed… everywhere. He wasn’t shaved completely because neither he nor you liked the look. So, he kept his blondish pubic hair trimmed down for you.
His dick was also just… pretty? You always thought that was impossible after your years of being sent unsolicited dick pics by disgusting men, but Nanami?? No, his cock was pretty, long, and cut. Along his shaft, he had one protruding vein that ran up the underside of his dick. His tip was thick and swollen. It was always such a pretty shade of red when you made him hard like this. When you held it in your hands, it was nice and heavy too. You wondered how he managed to walk with that thing.
You had pressed his cock up against your face, and you fluttered your eyes up to look at him while his length was nuzzled against your cheek. It was nearly bigger than your face for fucks sake. Nanami had no business keeping weapon like that on him.
Nanami’s face burned bright red as he told you not to look at him like that. You looked so pretty on your knees below his mahogany wooden desk. All he wanted to do was wreck you, but he tried to force those thoughts aside.
Nanami was a lover in bed. He loved to kiss on you, dote on you, rub on you, make you feel so so good. He cherished and respected your body wholeheartedly. He fucking loves you. But sometimes… on rare occasions, Nanami felt the sick intense need to just ruin you. ravage you. wreck you. use you. fuck you until he’s shooting blanks.
Seeing you look up at him all nice and pretty with his cock so blatantly pressed against your face just sent his brain into overdrive.
He let out small groans as you licked his tip, teasing the very sensitive portions of his length with your tongue. He held one of his hands over his mouth to mask some of his noises. You two were still in his office, and anyone could walk in at anytime. His other hand was grasping the back of your hair, entangling his fingers in your soft locks.
A gasp left his mouth as soon as he felt your plush lips wrap around his girthy length. The wet noises that left your mouth soon following were nothing short of pornstar worthy.
You had this grown ass man moaning, growling, and shaking with your mouth alone as you sucked, licked, and kissed all along his length. You were absolutely sloppy with it too. He was always clean and put together, and you just wanted to defile him.
A mixture of your spit and his precum was gathered at the base of his length from you bobbing your head up and down. Spit trickled down his balls, and you used your hand to cup them.
“You’re so f..fucking good at this..” He groaned lowly as he kept his eyes on you. It was like watching an artist at work. “So fucking perfect… my good girl.” He cooed as he petted your head, still trying to repress the thoughts of making you his fucktoy.
His praise only seemed to make you work harder for him, swallowing and gagging around his length. You would hum and whine from the discomfort, sending vibrations up his cock. Small tears involuntarily dripped down your cheeks.
Gods, he was so fucking torn. On one hand, he wanted to wipe your tears away and tell you to be gentle with yourself. On the other, he wanted to yank your hair and make you take more of him. In his intoxicated state, he ended up doing both.
“Don’t push yourself too hard.” He chided as he forced his length down your throat.
He sounded like an absolute asshole.
If your mouth wasn’t full of cock, you’d probably giggle at his little blunder.
He was close. so fucking close. He could feel his balls tightening as he started to rut his hips upward, making you take more of him in at his pace.
So close. He was right on the edge when his office door opened.
Violence was a necessary part of Nanami’s career. He didn’t ever search it out by picking fights with people. He actually didn’t even enjoy confrontation all too much, but he wanted to fucking kill whoever was daring to interrupt his moment with you.
Nanami’s eye visibly twitch when none other than Satoru Gojo walked into his office. He was not in the mood, and he was all out of patience right now for the white-haired man.
Now, your sweet husband assumed you’d.. you know… pause your sucking while his coworker friend? was in the room. Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of your sick and twisted sense of humor.
“Nanami~” Satoru’s voice drawled in a whine as he dramatically flopped himself over the back of the chair across from Nanami’s desk.
“What is it-“ Nanami’s eyes almost rolled back into his head as you slowly took his length back into your mouth. “-Gojo?” He added as he gripped the sides of his chair tightly. His veiny hand was red, and his knuckles were turning white.
“Someone ate my dessert in the break room.” Satoru dramatically whined again. “Who would do such a thing? I’m wanting to launch an investigation.”
“Are you seriously bothering me about this right now?” Nanami hissed in a more vicious tone than he normally used. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he needed Satoru to just fuck off right now.
You swallowed his length, trying to be semi-quiet about it, but there was some wet noises. Nanami quickly coughed and shifted around in his seat. You were going to pay for this.
“Why are you so grumpy, Nanamin?” Satoru asked, unfazed by Nanami’s harsh tone. He was used to it by now. The white haired male cocked and eyebrow and lazily smirked at your husband. “Wife problems already?” He taunted.
Oh yeah, Nanami had a wife problem alright. His problem was that his wife was on her knees practically begging to be fucked.
“What do you know about-“ Nanami coughed loudly again to prevent from moaning as your tongue swirled around his tip. “- wife problems?”
“Uh… Nanamin, are you okay?” Satoru asked as he tilted his head to the side.
“Yeah.. yeah.. Actually- no, I think I’m falling ill. I think you should g-go now… I don’t want to contaminate you..” You didn’t know your husband could be such a filthy liar, but here he was. His voice was breathy and needy. He was nearly panting in front of his coworker.
“Oh- Oh ew.” Satoru’s face twisted in disgust as he hated getting sick. “Text me if you need anything, Nanamin.” He said as he promptly left the room.
As soon as Gojo was gone, Nanami rolled back in his chair quickly so he could get a good look at you.
“C’mere.” He grunted as he grabbed you by your blouse. He stood up out of his chair, pulling you to your feet.
He spun you, so his chest was against your back, and he carefully tread his hands up your sides, feeling up your curves that your pencil skirt didn’t bother to hide in the slightest.
He then gently tugged your hair back, causing for you to lean your head back into his shoulder with a small yelp. His lips ghosted over your ear. “Did you have fun making me look like a mess in front of Gojo, hm?”
You’re such a brat sometimes. You nod your head and let out a small giggle, remembering Nanami stuttering over his words and shaking while you sucked him off under the desk.
“Yeah? Was it funny?” He asked as his hand pressed to the center of your back, and he bent you over his desk. “You want to act like a whore so badly; I might as well fuck you like one, isn’t that right baby?” He purred into your ear, making your eyes widen. Nanami had never spoken to you like that before in the past. You didn’t even know he was capable of degrading you.
You fucked up.
Nanami curses as he looks at your plush ass against his bare cock. He’s carefully rutting it against your backside while he’s intoxicated by the way his cock looks buried between your clothed cheeks.
“Ken~” You moan as you arch your back up off the desk a bit more.
“Shut up.” He demands lowly. He can’t hear your whiny voice right now while he’s trying to hold whatever sliver of self restraint he has left.
“Mmnnph.. p-please..” Your whimper sends him over the edge.
“Fuck being nice to you.” He growls lowly as he pushes your tight skirt up and over your ass. He marvels at how pretty you look, bent over his desk like this.
Slap!
His hand forcibly connects with your bottom, causing you to jolt forward from surprise. A small whimper escaped your mouth. “T-too loud..”
“You didn’t seem to care earlier when Satoru was in the room. Is it different when he’s the one hearing you slurping?” He taunts lowly, and he gives your ass another firm spank.
“N-no!” You whine out.
“You wanted him to hear you, didn’t you?” Your husband growls as he swats you again.
“No, I-I just wanted t-to make you feel good.” You’re practically searching for friction on his desk. The ache deep inside you feels like torture. You raise your hips again, hoping Nanami will finally just take you.
Your words tug at his heartstrings a bit. Deciding you’ve had enough punishment, he pulls your panties down around your ankles. He carefully presses his fingertips to your warm, wet heat, and he groans from the feeling.
“You’re this wet from sucking me and getting spanked?” God, you’re a national treasure to him. So perfect in every way.
You weakly nod and hum in approval. You try to push back on his fingers, but they were already gone. The sound of clothes shuffling filled the room as Nanami pushed his pants and boxers further down his thighs for easier access.
He looks down at you with a barely noticeable smirk as your displayed so prettily for him over his desk. His wife’s pretty cunt was practically begging to be fucked, and who was he to deny her that pleasure?
A small grunt escapes his mouth as he aligns himself with your dripping entrance. He feels a bit of resistance against his cock that normally isn’t there. He normally preps you a lot more, given that he knows his size can be uncomfortable if not properly prepared.
“Ken.. ngh.. p-prep?” You breathily ask as you drag your hips upward, presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat.
“No, I want you to feel this, baby.” He lowly coos before burying himself to the hilt deep inside of you. Your fingernails claw at the desk, and tears spring into your eyes involuntarily.
“F-fuck!” You whimper out, trying to hold yourself together.
Nanami lets out a quiet groan from the feeling. You’re squeezing him so perfectly right now. His hands trap you against the desk, and he pulls all the way until just his tip is in before pushing back inside forcefully. He repeats this motion a few times, making you feel every inch of him. You did this to him. You asked for this.
Small whiny gasps and moans fled your mouth. You tried to be quiet. You really did, but it was so hard when he was fucking you so deliciously from behind, making your cunt squelch with each forceful thrust.
“I hope he comes back and sees you like this.” Nanami growls lowly in your ear. “.. sees my pretty wife.. ngh fuck! .. taking my cock so well..”
His words literally have you hypnotized. The thought of someone walking in was frightening yet erotic at the same time.
“I wouldn’t stop either.” He goes on as his hips clap against your ass. “I’d let him watch how I fuck my wife.”
“Ken~” You whine from his vulgar words. You’re practically seeing stars as he hits all the right places. He knows you like the back of his hand. He knows just how you like to be fucked.
As you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, Nanami growls from the look on your face. You look so fucked out and cock drunk already. He can’t hold back anymore.
His grasp on your hips is nearly bruising as he pounds himself into you, not caring about the noise. The desk creaks and scrapes against the ground with each powerful thrust. You try to keep yourself together as he fucks you into oblivion, but your body is nothing but a puddle.
“F-fuck~! Ken, I- .. cumming..” You barely manage to warn him before you’re spasming on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm until you’re panting and whimpering against his desk. You weakly try to sit up, but his large hand catches your shoulder and forces you back down.
“I’m not done with you yet.” He lowly growls as he resumes his harsh thrusts. Your hands grab at the desk tightly, and your eyes screw shut as your poor cunt is so sensitive.
“Fucking… ah~ fucking take it, slut.” He demands as he rails you from behind. His thrusts are growing erratic and uncoordinated. He’s so close for the second time. He leans down over your back, and he bites down on your shoulder harshly before pumping you full of his cum. Your sloppy hole clenches around him as you find your second orgasm. Something about Nanami taking what’s his just really did it for you.
Slowly, he releases your shoulder from his teeth, and he presses soft kisses into the bite mark. “Are you okay, my love?” His adoring tone his back.
“‘m perfect..” You mumble quietly, on cloud 9 from receiving the best dick of your life.
“That you are, darling. So perfect.” He praises as he trails his kisses up the side of your neck. “I love you so much. You’re such a good wife.” His lips press against your jaw and cheek. “and a good girl too.”
“So, I’m not a slut?” You ask with a small giggle, remembering how he degraded you for the first time earlier.
“You’re my slut.” He quietly corrects with a soft chuckle. He then quietly hisses as he pulls out of you. He watches as some of his cum trickles down your swollen cunt. “So pretty.” He murmurs quietly as he leans into your heat and presses a small kiss to your sensitive folds, making you shiver.
“You’re not going to get any work done at this rate, Nanamin.” You playfully chide as you bite your bottom lip, silently hoping he’ll kiss your cunt again.
“Fuck that work.” He grumbles lowly before pressing another wet kiss against your core as you tremble before him.
He didn’t get any work done that day.
tags: @theuniversesnepobaby @lemonlimecrystal-blog
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eudaimaniacs · 2 days
Text
cherry (old! logan howlett x female reader)
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character/universe: logan howlett/wolverine (x-men/marvel)
word count: 1.7k words
warning/s: full-on smut (minors, dni). loss of virginity and age gap
notes: i have a headache from swimming yesterday but still managed to finish this in a day (so it's not proofread). i have tons of requirements to do so i may do an occasional small imagine once in a while. anyways, enjoy!
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You started dating Logan six months ago, and when the conversation about sex came up, you shamefully admitted that you're still a virgin. You didn't want to look like a little girl to the older man since you knew that he had dated and slept with numerous women in the past. When you let out those three words of truth, you expected him to break up with you. However, Logan smirked and remarked how he hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time.
So, it was a matter of waiting for you to lose your virginity to Logan.
You went to your close friends for sex advice. They weren't experienced with the topic but teased that you're going to fuck an old, attractive man. With a few good luck, you readied yourself for the day Logan will take your virginity. You didn't bother searching online since watching porn made you cringe. Additionally, the boys you dated were either clueless or too eager only fuck you. Logan wasn't like them; he cared and didn't date you because you were innocent and pretty.
One night, when you stayed at Logan's house, you decided to lose your virginity finally. You wore a white lace-trimmed tank top with black pajama shorts. You used the cherry lipgloss you bought for this occasion to make the night extra special. Logan donned the wifebeater tank top you loved. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard made him extra sexy, or maybe it was the age gap.
You two cuddled on the queen-sized bed you cleaned before this night. The softness of the pillows and the blankets didn't lessen your anxiety. With you touching his chest and Logan snaking his hand around your waist, you waited for the opportunity to bring up the conversation about sex again.
"Logan, honey? I have something to ask you," you whispered as you scratched his chin.
The older man hummed in agreement as he waited for your question.
Finding the right words, you blurted out, "Are you ready to have sex with me tonight?" With wide eyes and a beating heart, you hoped Logan wouldn't notice your nervousness.
He chuckled and kissed your cheek. Logan remarked, "I'm ready when you are, princess."
Your gaze softened as Logan agreed to have sex with you. However, it dawned on you that you didn't know how to start. Were you supposed to pleasure Logan first, or is he the one who should do it first? Should you take off your clothes when does it too? Who goes first? Who comes second? Your mind raced with the inexperience you didn't bother to fix.
"What's the matter, [Y/N]?" Logan noticed that you weren't taking action. You didn't want to admit you didn't know what to do. What if Logan wasn't attracted to your inexperience? What if he hated how awkward you are at initiating sex?
You took a deep breath before admitting to Logan, "I'm n-not too s-s-sure what to do, Logan. I tried to, you know, do my research about sex. S-so I'm sorry if I seem to be aw-"
Logan cut you off before finishing to tell him the truth. He sat up and rested on the headboard. The older man commanded you to take a seat on his lap. You quickly followed and rested your head on his chest. The beat of his heart assured you that Logan would be understanding about your anxiety about sex.
"It's okay, [Y/N]. You don't have to worry about having sex for the first time. I'm here to guide you. Remember when I told you how I hadn't fucked a virgin for a long time? I want your first time to be special, [Y/N]," Logan softly whispered as he caressed your back to relieve you.
You giggled and raised your head to kiss his neck gently. Logan chuckled at your sudden, playful attitude after assuring you everything would be okay. You pushed up your chest against his, and the older man seethed as he saw your breasts.
"Look at you now. You're now teasing me with your boobs. I thought you were nervous," Logan chuckled as he massaged your butt. You gave him a beck before replying, "Maybe you cast a spell on me, honey. I got a bit fired up with that sweet talk you did."
Logan lifted your chin and saw your glossy eyes accompanied by the cherry lipgloss. Your innocence, mixed with playfulness and the cute face and outfit you had, made Logan's heart race. He couldn't believe that you trusted him to be your first time. His rough, veiny hands caress your shoulder as he toys with the thin strap of your top. Your breath hitched up at the older man's soft and sensual action. You touched his chest to support yourself and felt your pussy wanting to be touched.
You slowly rubbed your clothed vagina on his black denim jeans as Logan went under your top to grope your breasts. You let out a shaky moan as you chased your high. Logan smirked as he saw your face contorting at the newfound pleasure.
"Let me do something, princess. Lay down for me," Logan grabbed your thighs, leading you to stop rubbing your pussy against his jeans. You were unsatisfied that he prevented you from chasing your climax. However, you were equally excited about what he would do next. You lay down on the bed as Logan told you and waited for his following action.
Logan kneeled at the end of the bed and asked, "May I take off your shorts, princess?" His rough hands caress the softness of your covered thighs. You slowly nodded, not wanting to keep Logan waiting for your response. He chuckled and reassured you that he would always be patient with you. You felt Logan sliding off your black pajama shorts, and you lifted your legs for him to take it off easier. The older man sucked his teeth as the sight of your lacy pink panties appeared.
Your heart was beating fast since you were one undergarment away from exposing your pussy. Logan pushed the fabric to the side and smelled your arousal. Sweet. He slowly circled your clit and licked your pussy to taste you. Logan moaned as he ate you; he wanted to do it fast as he had never tasted a virgin pussy before. However, knowing this was your first time, he took it slow. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of Logan's tongue pleasuring you. You grabbed the bedsheets and screamed his name.
As you felt your stomach twisting, Logan stopped and wiped his lips coated with your arousal. You curved your eyebrows in disappointment as Logan continued teasing you. You whined about how he should stop it and remarked that you wanted to orgasm badly. Logan grabbed the hem of your tank top, telling you to take them off. He fondled your breasts and kissed you.
Logan shushed you and whispered, "I'm only prepping you, princess. I'm now going to give you the real thing." He stood up and unbuckled his belt for his massive penis to escape. You gasped at the length of it. How is it going to fit you? You were both hungry and scared of the enormous cock staring at you.
"Don't worry, [Y/N]. I'll take it slow, and you tell me if I need to take it out. Got it, princess?" Logan stared at your lust-filled eyes, waiting for your approval. You whispered a soft yes as you braced yourself for his length to push in. Logan grabbed your hips as he slowly entered inside of you. Your eyes suddenly opened at the foreign sensation penetrating you.
You let out a few tears but remained strong as you didn't want to embarrass yourself by tapping out. Logan saw it and whispered, "[Y/N], are you okay? Do I need to take it out?"
You shook your head and responded, "I'm okay, Lo. I need to adjust a bit to your length." Logan heartily chuckled as he rested his head beside your neck. You hugged his back and waited for the pain to subside. Taking a deep breath, you let out a small moan, signaling Logan to pick up the pace.
Logan started to thrust slowly and made sure that you weren't crying because of the pain. He lifted himself and pounded you. You grabbed his chest as you felt the shape of his dick molding your pussy. You screamed his name and told him how good it felt. Logan saw your bouncing tits and squeezed them.
"Lo-Logan, please kiss me. P-please, I need you to kiss me," you panted as you grasped the sheets. Logan leaned in to passionately kiss you. He tasted the sweetness of cherry lipgloss and let his tongue in. You scratch his back as you feel your high coming.
"I'm a-about to-fuck. I'm cumming, Logan!" You screamed as the older man quickened his pace to reach his high, too. You cried out pleasure as you felt his dick growing inside of you.
Logan hungrily kissed your neck and groaned at the sensation of your tightness. He went wild as he sensed his orgasm chasing him. You grabbed his hair to brace yourself from the immense pleasure coming.
"Let go, princess. Fuck, I'm close too. Come on, princess. Cum for me," Logan moaned as he quickly pounded for the two of you to release. You felt a wave of pleasure crashing over you as Logan did one effective thrust. You screamed out his name as your legs went numb at the pleasure.
Logan stayed inside of you as he released his cum inside of you. He pulled out to see the sheets stained with blood and your once-virgin pussy leaking with his cum. The older man kissed your forehead and grabbed a towel at your dresser to clean you up.
"How was it, princess? Was it good?" Logan asked as he gently wiped your thighs. You sat and rested your head on the board to look at him better.
You giggled and replied, "That was the best, Logan. I couldn't have asked for anything better." He softly grinned and leaned in to give you a soft, deep kiss. Logan savored the sweet taste of the cherry lipgloss. You hummed as he continued kissing you. And as the night became darker, the two of you slept soundly as the imprint of your gloss and virginity marked Logan and his warm cum filling you.
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eudaimaniacs - 2024
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thinkinonsense · 1 day
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i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid
it's slim pickins
lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)
a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3
masterlist
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"am i just destined to be alone forever?"
another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.
"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.
"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.
"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."
you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.
"i work with those guys!" you hiss.
"sooo...?" she smirks.
both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.
"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.
you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?
"oh... um, i'm just-"
"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.
"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.
"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.
"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."
"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."
the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.
"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.
"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.
"you sure?" he raises a brow.
"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"
"why what?" he squints.
"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.
"no." he answers.
" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"
all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.
"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."
it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.
"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."
if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.
"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."
"you have no idea." you sigh.
"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."
"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."
logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.
"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.
"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."
"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.
"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.
"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."
it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"
you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."
he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.
"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."
"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."
"what are you looking for in this dream man?"
logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.
"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."
it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.
"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."
"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."
"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.
"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."
as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.
you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.
before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.
there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.
"hey? did i leave something in the–"
in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.
“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”
your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.
“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.
“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?
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chestersturniolo · 2 days
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“i forgot to wear panties”
Matt sturniolo x fem!reader
*°:⋆ₓ*:⋆ₓ *°:⋆ₓₒ
sending matt dirty texts from across the room
warnings; suggestive, public v touching
*°:⋆ₓ*:⋆ₓ *°:⋆ₓₒ
After separating off with your friends for a while, you decide to go and find Matt. You wade through the crowds of dancing bodies, and it’s not long before you spot him across the room,
Leaning against the bar, standing with a few of his friends. He looks so effortlessly fucking good, his messy hair and dark stubble, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, revealing his scattered tattoos, the rings on his fingers and chain around his neck glinting in the club lights. You watch as he occasionally flashes his perfect teeth when he laughs with his friends. You can’t help but let your mind wander, as you cross your legs slightly, trying to relieve at least a little bit of pressure from the growing heat inbetween your legs.
He hadn’t noticed you watching him yet, so you decide to get his attention in your own way. With a smirk , you grab your phone and find his contact, quickly typing a sequence of messages
“you look so fucking hot right now, i’m dripping just from lookin at you”
“i forgot to wear panties tonight too”
“oops”
You quickly flick your gaze back to your boyfriend, from across the room you watched as his phone buzzed on the bar beside him. He glanced down absentmindedly, as he picks it up and his eyes scan his screen, his whole expression shifts instantly.
Matt’s eyes widen slightly, his throat bobs as he swallows harshly. His fingers tighten around his phone, knuckles paling. He blinks once, then again, still staring at the screen as if re-reading it over and over. He runs his free hand over his mouth, dragging down to his chin, trying to compose himself-but he’s already lost in it, caught up in the images your texts had conjured up in his filthy mind.
His tongue darts out , wetting his lower lip before glancing up, starting to scan the room for you needily. You watch as he clenches his jaw, the muscles tensing beneath the skin, whilst searching the faces of the room.
it’s not long before his eyes land on you
For a moment, he just stared intensely , his eyes clouding over with hunger. His head tilted slightly, his expression both playful and dangerous, as if daring you to keep up this game. He slipped his phone into his pocket, taking his time, like he wanted you to feel every second of his attention.
Without a word to his friends, Matt straightened up and began making his way across the room toward you , his movements slow, almost predatory. The kind that said he knew exactly what he wanted, and exactly how to get it.
His eyes were locked onto yours the whole time, only breaking the contact for the exception of trailing them painfully slowly down your figure and back up again. His mouth set in a way that tells you exactly what he’s thinking. the closer he got, the faster your heart got.
When he finally reaches you, he leans in, his breath brushing your ear as his hand ghosts the small of your back, “I hope you’re ready to back up your little texts” his voice teasing but sturn.
A smirk plays on your lips, “feel for yourself” you shrug, ypu scan the room quickly before gripping matt’s hand, his gaze follows as you slip it underneath your dress and placing his hand directly inbetween your legs, your body jolts slightly at the contact
Matt lets out a small audible groan, his eyes finding yours again as he starts moving his fingers slightly , playing around with the wetness you’d created — rather, he’d created.
“O-oh my god” he breathes
you take your bottom lip between your teeth, as matt swiftly pulls away.
“Come on, we’re leaving”
Matt brings his hand up, placing the two fingers into his mouth,tasting you before removing them with a pop.
“Mmph — now..”
••••••••••••••••••••••••••
MASTERLIST
taglist ; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay
@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4
@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf
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hitomisuzuya · 2 days
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Hii suzu!! So, i dunno if this particular idea already been asked. So if it's already done, please don't mind this one!
Reader edging scara. Like, really, really edging n teasing him for a full whole day. Making out, Slipping hand to his thigh under the table while in meeting.. Stopped rubbing him through his pants right when he's almost reach climax.. Etc.
So when back on bed at night? Scara couldn't handle it anymore and fucking reader roughly without mercy. Maybe even a hint of mind break on reader side. (Sorry if this doesn't make sense, english is hard. ;-;)
That's all, go wild with this one if you decided to write this! i hope you have a good day, suzu! Love your writings as always <3 don't forget to take care of yourself 💕
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Masturbation. Orgasm denial. Brat taming. Cunnilingus. Degradation. Edging. Mind break. Dom! Scaramouche.
Thank you very much, dear❤️ Sorry this took a bit to get to. You take care of yourself too🥺
The state you are reduced to now was a far cry from your earlier demeanor. You'd been an absolute menace today. It started with your hand on his thigh, your lithe little fingers stroking and teasing him outside his shorts under the table. All the while smiling politely while he struggled to keep up with the meeting.
Usually it was his fingers teasing between your legs during a meeting, pumping them in and out of your sopping cunt, drinking in the sight of watching you struggle. What was making you so bold?
After the meeting, abruptly condensed and cut short, your lips had been sweet and hungry on his. You'd taken his dick from his shorts, exploring his mouth and letting him wrestle your tongue into submission. You pumped and stroked your hand on his straining cock until he was whimpering into your mouth, rutting into your hand like a mutt in heat.
But you, for some reason, had to push him even further. He'd been about to put you on your knees, and force his cock past your lips. Stroking your hair while he bobbed your head, promising to fuck you full tonight, that cumming down your throat would have to appease you for now. Good girls deserve a treat to tide them over.
He didn't get to. You took your hand away before he could cum. Leaving him frustrated the rest of the day.
Now look at you. His mouth on your pussy was reducing you to the same state you'd left him in earlier.
"Impatient slut," Scaramouche growled, tightening his fingers on your thighs. "You want to tell me what you were trying to pull earlier," He swirled his tongue around your clit. The throbbing in your clit made you gasp, squirming as you grinded your pussy on his mouth.
"I just..I just.." You were struggling to find the right words. Each lick and caress of his tongue was teetering you closer to the edge. Agonizingly slow. You pushed his mouth down onto your cunt. "I just wanted your attention," You managed to whimper.
He groaned into your pussy, latching his lips onto your clit. As sweet as you sounded, there was no way he was going to get ahead of himself and lose control. You needed to be broken, just a little bit. Which meant you would absolutely shatter like glass.
"You wanted my attention that badly? I was going to stuff your greedy cunt full regardless," He hissed, narrowing his eyes in a glare up at you. "You really are a fucking slut," He hooked two fingers abruptly inside of you. He needed to hear you beg while he kept you right on the edge of cumming.
"Only your fingers?!" You protested, rocking your hips up. Your body had been burning and aching for him all day. And now he was only making you ache worse. Your desperate moans more than told you could hardly stand it any more.
"You brat," Scaramouche hissed, reaching down to palm and rub his straining cock. He couldn't deny he loves it when you get like this. He was only going to enjoy putting you in your place that much more.
Tears welled into your eyes as you looked down at him. You waited, your body tense and twitching in anticipation. Anticipation of more degradation from him, a more brutal pace of his fingers. Something, anything. But you got nothing.
Nothing but his tongue and his fingers abusing your dripping hole and your swollen clit. This was clearly about his pleasure now. It was almost unbearable for you. He could tell in the way your body twitched as he latched his lips around your clit. He casually hooked his fingers into your sweet spot, only giving you the slightest jolt of pleasure before taking it away.
You broke best that way.
"Tell me slut, do you want to cum?" A smirk coiled on the corners of his lips. The longer he brutally edged you, the deeper the look of desperation in your watery eyes.
"Yes, so badly," You moaned, grinding shamelessly on his mouth, trying to urge his lips and tongue firmer on your clit. You needed him so badly it hurt. You tugged on his hair to emphasize your pleas.
"Hmm?" He prodded his tongue on your sensitive clit, making your legs quake as you rolled your hips up. "That's too bad," He taunted, laughing softly into your pussy. It made his cock pulse to deny you the same you had earlier.
He hooked his fingers generously for the first time into your sweet spot, curling it extra before pulling them from your pussy. You cried out in both bliss and protest before you were unceremoniously flipped over onto your stomach.
"Ass up, whore," From his tone you knew he wasn't going to be gentle. Your cunt clenched at the thought. You raised your ass up, going down onto your elbows and giving him a view of your sopping cunt. "Bratty sluts like you need to be bred into their place."
Your pussy clenched around nothing as he pinched and rubbed your clit. You yelped in bliss feeling his hand smack roughly on your ass, making you arch your back as you grinded on his cock. Fuck you are so irresistible like this, craving his every touch.
Grasping his cock, Scaramouche moaned as he pushed it slowly inside. He bottomed out with a fluid thrust. The tight feeling of your pussy sucking him in made him lose control then.
He pulled out, only to stuff his cock back into your pussy all at once. It didn't take him long to set a brutal pace, his hands grasping your hips possessively. Fucking you roughly from behind was a dominant way for him to break you.
"Scara! Scara! I can't..breathe," You moaned, his cock head hammering into your sweet spot made your head spin. You moaned like you were finally getting something you were denied for years.
Scaramouche's cock squelched loudly in and out of you. "Going from teasing like a slut, to moaning like a slut," He laughed as your walls clutched around his cock, "Fuck, you feel so tight," He lost himself in taking the frustration of being teased by you earlier out on your pussy.
He still held your orgasm in the palm of his hand. He was dangling the promise right in front of you, little by little. "Please, please, I'm sorry. Just let me cum," You sobbed in pleasure, clawing at the sheets before reaching down to rub your clit.
Scaramouche batted your hand away, helping you along himself. You had a certain way of moaning right before cumming. He knew the moment your mind essentially shattered. Your body felt more pliable in his hands. "Yes, that's my good girl. Break just like I want," He groaned.
310 notes · View notes
ssaaaronmontgomery · 3 days
Note
dbf! hotch who won't directly touch you but will use a toy on you as you're crying and begging for his touch 😩
So Mean, but So Good
Warnings: Smut! Age gap relationship (both adults), p in v sex, unprotected sex, sex toy, mean!hotch, degradation, rough sex, dumbification, brief biting, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, squirting, pet names, some overstimulation, Hotch is a little condescending in this one, slight praise, begging, teasing, scratching, aftercare, please let me know if I missed anything!
Word count: 2.2k (my longest fic in so long haha)
Pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader
A/n: Yes 😩. I love this so much and I really got a bit carried away with this request haha 😅. Hope you still enjoy it anon!!
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs
Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr
@hoe4hotchner I'll tag you in this one because we talked so much about it 🤭
Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶
This post is NSFW minors please DNI****
Aaron has you splayed out on his bed he's staring directly at your core. He's holding a vibrator to your clit and he has been for both of the orgasms you've had so far. It feels good, but he always feels so much better. You want his mouth and his fingers and you want them badly.
You're whining and whimpering because you feel good, but is it mostly because you just want him to touch you and he's refusing to give in to any of your pleas.
"Aaron, please touch me. I need it. Need you." You beg him and squirm. He chuckles from between your thighs and shakes his head. "No. I already told you I'm not going to touch you. Why is that so hard for you to understand, princess? You're so needy for me all the time that your toy doesn't cut it anymore, hm?" You whine again and throw your head back against his pillows with a pathetic whimper.
"You're so mean, Aaron!" He chuckles darkly this time. "I could make it worse. I could stop completely." Another whine and you look down at him. "No! No, please don't. But please, please touch me. Please? I'll be good for you. I just want you so so badly." You beg him again, tears just starting to form your eyes, and he smirks after sighing. "I don't know, sweetheart. I think it's fun watching you squirm and beg like this. Maybe a little more begging could convince me..." He smirks at you and he presses the vibrator against your clit more firmly now. You bite your lip and your hips buck involuntarily.
"Please, Aaron, please! I'll be a good girl for you, I promise! I just need you!" A tear slips down your cheek and you look down at him again. He squeezes your thigh with his strong hand that is unoccupied. "More. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you." His eyes darken and he suppresses his urge to bite the inside of your thigh.
Your toes curl and your chest shakes with a small sob. A real sob.
"Aaron, I want you to do whatever you want to do to me! I want you to eat me out, I want you to finger me, I want you to use me, I want you to fuck me until I can only say your name, but then fuck me harder so I can't even say that. I want to be a wordless mess for you. Please just touch me!" That breaks Aaron and he bites down on the inside of your thigh, no longer controlling that urge from moments ago. He tosses the vibrator aside after turning it off and he pulls his shirt over his head, throwing that somewhere as well. He buries his face in your sopping wet pussy and laps at you with his warm, wet tongue.
Moans immediately begin to fall from your lips and your thighs tighten around his head. He's groaning into you and those vibrations, though not nearly as strong as your toy, feel infinitely better. It doesn't take long for him to pull your third orgasm out of you by sucking and licking your sensitive clit.
"Aaron! Mmmmm. Thank you, Aaron! Thank you!" Your eyes are closed and your head is thrown back. All you can think of is his face between your thighs and the blinding pleasure he's giving you.
Aaron doesn't even give you time to recover from your release before plunging two of his thick fingers into your cunt and thrusting them hard and fast. He keeps his tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves and works hard to bring you to the edge again. You're writhing around and your hips buck involuntarily against his face from the slight overstimulation you're feeling that causes you to whine and squirm.
You can feel your next orgasm building fast and Aaron can too. He angles his fingers just right and before you know it, you're a moaning mess once again for him as you release spurts of wetness that Aaron laps at immediately. He hasn't even fucked you senseless yet, still hard in his slacks after getting home from work and calling you to come over, but you already can't conjure a single thought as you twitch and spasm.
You only live a few houses away from him and he sometimes wonders if you get loud enough to let everyone know how good he's taking you. He just hopes your parents never walk by his house when you're screaming his name at the top of your lungs.
Aaron's tongue darts between your folds and back to your clit a few times before giving your nub one last harsh suck and then he pulls his face from between your soaked thighs. When you finally manage to open your eyes again, you see him removing those slacks that must be incredibly uncomfortable at this point and you see how wet his face has become from your juices.
"Mm... Aaron..." You mumble and weakly reach a hand out in his direction. "I'm here, princess. Just let me make you feel good. Since that's what you begged me for, isn't it, sweetheart? You can take more, isn't that right, needy girl?" He rests his now naked body against yours and his voice is slightly condescending, but there's still a genuine tone underneath with the second question. You let out another whine and you nod your head dumbly.
He chuckles darkly again and presses his hips against yours. "Have I already fucked you dumb, princess? I've only had my fingers in you and you can't even speak." He grinds his hips against yours and keeps looking down at you beneath him. His cock rubs against your folds and your clit which causes your hips to jolt from the sensitivity.
Aaron smirks and he reaches down to grip his throbbing length in his large hand. He guides his tip through your folds now. "You're so pretty like this. All dumb for me. You're so sensitive now, but you still want more, don't you?" You nod dumbly one more time and whimper. "Normally I would make you use your words but you can't even form them, can you?" You shake your head this time and he chuckles before pushing his entire length into you.
He fills you completely and stretches you deliciously. It causes you to moan right into his ear as he groans into yours. Your fingers claw at his back and he's sure there will be scratches all over his skin soon enough. He loves being able to admire them in the mirror, remembering how he took you so nicely to cause you to mark him up like that.
He's buried deep inside of you now, but he hasn't started moving. It's not because he's letting you adjust, it's because he wants to tease you some more by not immediately setting his pace and taking you hard and fast. Which you don't realise until you have been waiting for a minute or two for him to begin thrusting , only for him to not do so. You whine and try to move your hips to signal that you want him to move. He grips one to keep you still.
"You know, I think I want you to beg me just a little more. I know you've lost your words, but why don't you try to find them to ask for what you want just one more time, princess. Hm?" You throw your head back into his pillow with whimper and a pout that makes Aaron smirk again. "Come on, just use your words one last time..." He's decided to make you find the words you don't have after originally making you think you wouldn't need to. He's sexually frustrating but he's also like a god in bed so you don't want to complain, not that you really could anyway. So instead you just squirm and whine again which causes him to grab your jaw to force you to look at him. "Don't be a brat and do what I said, princess." He's so mean sometimes.
You go through your mind in search of the few words you need and after a moment, you're finally able to find them. "Fuck me, Aaron!" You cry out like you had earlier and with that he begins slamming his hips into yours, pounding his entire cock into you over and over again relentlessly.
Your back arches and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you in that moment, making sure to keep your body pressed close to his. All you can do is gasp and moan as he completely ruins your pussy. The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and whatever vocal noises you and Aaron are making, along with Aaron speaking occasionally.
"Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?" Aaron practically growls into your ear and you try your best to nod your head, but it's hard because of the force he's using to pound into you. He's practically moving you up the bed with each thrust.
It's becoming hard to keep your eyes open and all you can do is just lie there and let him ensure you won't be walking for the next few days, which means you'll be staying with him even longer as you wouldn't dare to go back home and be asked why you're limping. He continues to stretch you and pound into you, somehow making you feel like he's getting deeper and deeper each time. He brings one hand up to hold the back of your head in order to make sure you won't hit your head on the bedframe.
Aaron's other hand travels down to your core to rub your clit and you tremble beneath him. "One more. Be a good girl and cum for me one more time, princess." He whispers into your ear and you feel your next orgasm rapidly approaching. It doesn't take much longer for your thighs to start shaking and for your back to arch your chest up into his. Your mind is fuzzy and you can't think. Your entire body is taken over with the pleasure he brings you.
This also pushes Aaron over the edge and you feel his previously calculated thrusts become sloppy as he loses his rhythm. He groans loudly into your ear and moans your name as he cums inside of you. You feel the warmth spreading through your cunt and you flutter around him with one more orgasm that makes his own last a little longer.
You both stay like this for a good while, attempting to catch your breath as you come down from your highs. Aaron's arms instinctively move around you again to keep you close and you try to do the same to him, but your arms are practically useless, as is the rest of your body at the moment. You'd love to play with his hair, but you can't feel your limbs or make them move.
Aaron peppers soft kisses to your neck and jaw before moving to your cheeks, forehead, and then finally landing one on your lips. His breathing has slowed quite a bit now, but he is still hazy from his intense release. Even then, he still has this want and need to make sure you're okay and to show you his love and affection.
"You're perfect, sweetheart." He mumbles into your neck before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "How are you feeling?" His voice is rough, but soft and low at the same time. He moves one hand to gently rub at your scalp as he waits for you to respond. "I feel good...just limp." You mumble back and he can't help the small chuckle that escapes him. He smiles down at you and kisses your temple. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He promises you.
He keeps his promise and cleans you up after pulling out, his release leaking from you when he does, and he showers you with all of his affection in the ways he always does. He gets you some cold water and something to snack on. He puts something on for you to watch together and he snuggles you constantly unless you need him to get you something because you physically can't walk right now and won't be able to for at least a day or two.
He rubs your arms, back, shoulders, and neck to help you stay relaxed and he gives you small pecks on your lips and all over your face. He loves you and he wants to keep you protected in his arms. He wants to hold you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Yes, he loves to be rough with you and degrade you in bed; maybe being a little mean on occasion, but that's for your benefit and his and it's just a game for pleasure. Outside of those times, he just wants you to feel peace, comfort, safety, and love when being with him. Which you do. You always do and you're certain it will never change.
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firehose118 · 2 days
Text
in sickness
for @bucktommypositivityweek - predict the future
Buck is rooting through their sock drawer when he finds it.
He’s looking for a particular pair of socks: wool, blue and grey striped, soft and warm. They’re the ones that Tommy likes to wear when he’s sick, and right now he is sick. It’s nothing life-threatening, but Tommy is miserable. He hasn’t been able to breathe out of his nose for two days now, his nostrils have been rubbed raw by tissue after tissue, and he’s still shivering under three blankets.
When Buck shoves aside several identical pairs of white socks and sees the little box, he’s confused; almost a little panicked. This isn’t where he hid it. He could have sworn it was still in his locker at work. How did it get here? How did it get to the house, first of all, and how did it end up on Tommy’s side of their sock drawer? Oh god, did Tommy already see it? There goes the surprise.
And then Buck realizes that this is a different box than the one that houses the ring he bought for Tommy. It’s a different color, texture, and it’s from a different store. That means Tommy bought this. Tommy bought a ring. Tommy bought a ring.
Tommy wants to get married. Tommy wants to keep Buck forever. It’s not a surprise—they’ve talked about it, and Tommy has been more than clear that he’s in this relationship for the longhaul; more than clear that he’s deeply in love with Buck and their life together—but it makes Buck’s heart flutter just the same. Tommy is ready to make the commitment.
Buck must have been still and silent for too long, because Tommy raises his head from where he’d been buried under the covers and looks in Buck’s direction.
“Did you find them?” Tommy asks, his voice scratchy and stuffy.
There’s no point in pretending like he didn’t find the ring. This is all he’s going to be able to think about now, and he’s terrible at hiding his thoughts. Tommy would sniff it out in a moment, even this sick.
“Uh,” Buck says, a massive smile taking over his face. “I- I found something.” He holds up the little box.
Tommy looks confused for a moment and then his eyes go wide. “Oh. You weren’t supposed to- I had a plan.” His head hits the pillow with a groan.
Buck walks over to the bed, still smiling, and kneels on the floor by Tommy. “Oh, you had a plan, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. His frown is earnest and adorable. “Big romantic thing. Helicopter and a picnic at sunset. You were gonna love it.”
That does sound like something Buck would love. It’s thoughtful, sweet, intimate—fun. It’s so much better than anything Buck has been able to come up with. Buck has been making and scrapping plans for two months now because they weren’t perfect. Tommy’s plan was perfect.
Still, Buck can’t let Tommy think he was the only one ready for the next step. Who knows how long Tommy has had that ring. Has he been waiting for a sign that Buck was ready? He’s been so good about letting Buck set the pace of this relationship. This would have been the first step that Tommy asked Buck to take since their first kiss, first date. Buck wants Tommy to know he’s ready. They’re moving at the same pace, and Buck thinks that’s a beautiful thing. Well worth ruining the surprise over.
“And what if I told you I bought a ring too?” Buck bites his lip.
“Yeah?” Tommy asks, his face lighting up. He tries to sit up but Buck stops him with a hand on his chest, rubbing it back and forth soothingly.
“Yeah. But I hid it somewhere you wouldn’t find it. Not in one of our shared spaces,” Buck teases. “Babe, I wear your clothes all the time.”
Tommy’s eyebrows pull together stubbornly. “Never my socks, though. You hate my socks.”
Buck has never said that out loud but it’s true. He’s a little overwhelmed by the casual intimacy that knowledge betrays. Tommy knows him so well. Tommy pays attention to him so well, and he seems happy to. It’s all Buck has ever wanted. Finally, Buck has the kind of love he’s spent his entire life searching for. He’s never been more sure that Tommy is it for him.
“I do,” Buck says. He sounds utterly besotted even to his own ears. “Your socks are terrible. The toe seams are too thick.”
“I’ve never once noticed the toe seam,” Tommy laughs, equally as besotted. Like the way Buck sees the world is charming and beautiful to him instead of frustrating and in need of correction.
“I have a hard time believing that.” Buck hands Tommy the ring box. “I’ll put this back and wait for your big romantic proposal if you want. The answer will be the same.”
Before he can respond, Tommy sneezes. Buck hands him a fresh tissue from the box on the nightstand. Tommy takes it and looks at Buck consideringly. He smiles fondly and shakes his head.
“No need to wait. Honestly, I think this might be more romantic.” Tommy gestures with the tissue. “In sickness and in health, right?”
The wet sound of him blowing his nose makes it very clear which side of that dichotomy he’s on at the moment.
“That’s right,” Buck smiles.
Tommy smiles back. He’s glassy-eyed and red-nosed, his hair is wild, and his stubble is scruffier than he usually lets it get. Still, in this moment, he’s the most handsome man Buck has ever seen.
Tommy’s hands shake a little as he opens the box. The ring is beautiful: simple gold, wide and rounded, understated and elegant. Timeless. It’s perfect.
“Evan Buckley,” Tommy starts, voice scratchy and congested. He gives Buck a pained look and sighs. “I had a whole speech planned for this, but my brain is so fucking foggy right now I can’t remember it all.” They both laugh. “But I know why I love you, so I’ll start there. You’re kind, and brave, and smart. You keep me on my toes and you make me laugh. You make me feel safe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt held the way I do with your arms around me. You love with your whole heart, and I feel so lucky that someone as incredible as you chose me. You’re the best partner anyone could ask for. Every day with you is better than the last. There were so many times over the years when we almost met that it’s kind of insane we didn’t, but I’m glad it took us so long. You know I don’t really believe in this stuff most of the time, but I think we met when we did for a reason. We weren’t ready for each other before that hurricane. But I’m ready for you now, and I hope you’re ready for me, too. I love you more than I could ever hope to put into words. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
“Please,” Buck says breathlessly. Tommy’s laugh is filled with affection as Buck hurries to correct himself. “I- I mean of course, yes. Yes, I- I will marry you.”
The tears are coming now. Even through the brainfog that comes with a cold like this, Tommy was able to pull that off. If that wasn’t the rehearsed speech, Buck doesn’t think he would have survived the real one. It makes Buck’s general you flipped my life rightside-up and now I see the world in color and I’ll love you forever feel a little inadequate. He needs to organize his thoughts a little better before he can present them to Tommy.
“I- I have a speech too,” Buck assures him, “but it’s not ready yet.”
“That’s okay,” Tommy says easily. He’s looking at Buck with such naked adoration that it makes Buck’s heart soar. “Neither of us were expecting this today. Give it to me when you give me my ring.”
Buck nods and sniffles. “I will.”
Tommy reaches for him. “Can I have your hand, sweetheart?”
Buck gives Tommy his hand and Tommy slides the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly. It looks like it’s always been there.
Illness be damned, Buck has to kiss him. They’re long past the point of caring about getting each other’s germs. Tommy’s lips are chapped from days of breathing through his mouth, he tastes stale, and his skin is hot and clammy. It’s one of the best kisses Buck has ever had.
They pull back when Tommy needs to breathe. Buck doesn’t go far. He runs a hand through Tommy’s hair and just admires him. Even like this, he’s gorgeous. Buck is so lucky. This is the person who looked at Buck and saw him for who he is—who looked at Buck and saw Evan. This is the person who has had a front-row seat to all of his flaws and insecurities and bad habits and found something to love about all of them. This is the person who doesn’t love him anyway but loves him because—who loves his jealousy because it makes him feel wanted, loves his clinginess because it makes him feel held, loves his tendency to speak without thinking because it’s honest. This is the person who never makes him feel insecure about wanting or needing anything; about who he is. This is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. His fiancé. His soon-to-be husband. His-
“Baby, can I please have my socks?” Tommy asks in a small voice.
“Oh!” Buck had gotten so sidetracked by the whole proposal thing that he forgot why he was looking through Tommy’s side of the sock drawer in the first place. Buck presses a quick kiss to Tommy’s forehead and jumps up. “Of course, I’m sorry.”
Buck goes back to their dresser. The wool socks are right on top. He doesn’t know how he missed them before. It feels like a sign, like he was supposed to find the ring first.
It feels like the universe saw how stressed he’s been about getting the proposal exactly perfect and decided this was the right way for them to get engaged. No big plans, no rehearsed speeches, no theatrics. Just love and care and the simple intimacy of this life they’ve made together: messy and raw and gross. It’s so imperfect that it’s kind of perfect. It’s them.
This is why none of Buck’s plans had felt right. He’d been so focused on making things perfect and exciting for Tommy that he’d lost sight of what really mattered. The strength of their relationship isn’t in the big, dramatic moments. Sure, they met during a hurricane, but they built their relationship in the quiet, imperfect, domestic moments as they learned how to take care of each other. Their relationship isn’t a fantasy: it’s reality. It works precisely because it’s imperfect and they both want it anyway—because they are imperfect and they both still want each other.
Buck puts the socks on Tommy’s feet for him, then he lays under the covers next to him. He pulls Tommy to snuggle into his chest. Tommy is still sniffly and clammy and, objectively, pretty disgusting. Buck pulls him closer.
Soon, Tommy drifts off. He snores in the loud, startling way he only does when he’s congested. Buck feels lucky to hear it. He runs his hand through Tommy’s hair and feels his ring catch on the strands. Happy, content, at ease; Buck settles in.
{give me kudos!}
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lovelookspretty · 1 day
Text
lover of mine
drew starkey x actress!reader au
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— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.
warnings: sexual themes !! but eek another cliffhanger i fear yall are gonna eat me alive
one | two | three | four | five | six
authors note: i havent slept and its 8am because ive been writing this for U GUYS 😞 let me know if u would like to be part of the tag list tho thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3
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drew jolts awake, his heart racing from whatever dream he’s already forgotten. he blinks against the early light streaming through the curtains, his eyes squinting as he scans the room. instinctively, his hand reaches for your side of the bed, but it’s empty.
“y/n?” he murmurs, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. his brain tries to catch up to his surroundings, still sluggish from sleep.
just as he’s about to throw the covers off and go looking for you, the door creaks open. there you are, balancing a tray in your hands with a small but proud grin on your face. his lips curl into an instant smile at the sight of you, and it’s relief that washes over him.
“good morning,” you draw out playfully, your voice teasing as you approach the bed. drew watches, amusement in his eyes.
“what’s all this?” he asks, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes but already intrigued by the spread.
you gesture to the tray proudly, listing off the items you’ve prepared. “made us both some eggs, bacon, toast . . . oh, and fresh fruit,” you say, pointing at the colorful array of berries on the side. “figured i’d bring it to you since you were still sleeping.”
he chuckles, sitting up properly and glancing over at the tray with a grin. “so did the others get the same royal treatment?” he jokes, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.
“obviously.” you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “the girls and i were up early making breakfast for everyone. the guys are already up and eating, but i thought I’d bring yours here. you know, special delivery.”
he shakes his head, still smiling as he takes it all in. “so, breakfast in bed? don’t mind if i do.”
“shut up,” you say as you crawl onto the bed carefully, setting the tray between you both.
as you settle beside him, drew is already popping a blueberry into his mouth. he chews thoughtfully, an amused look crossing his face. “you know,” he says, pausing to finish his bite before continuing, “you never did stuff like this when we were together.”
you glance at him, casual as ever. “we were always too busy,” you reply nonchalantly, reaching for a piece of bacon. “i don’t think we ever really had time to eat breakfast together in the mornings, or whatever.”
it’s such an offhanded comment, one you barely think twice about, but drew does. his fork hovers mid-air as your words sink in. he realizes how right you are—there was always something else, always a rush to be somewhere or do something. sure, you spent time together, but not like this. not with simple, meaningful moments that could’ve mattered.
his thoughts flicker back to the night before, to the messages he saw on his phone. that nagging feeling from last night returns, tugging at him. he quickly glances over to the nightstand, his head whipping around so fast that it draws your attention immediately.
you laugh, startled by his sudden movement. “dude, are you alright?” there’s amusement in your voice, but you look at him with mild concern.
he blinks, pulling himself together, and his heart beats a little faster. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” he replies quickly, trying to shake off the tension that suddenly crept in. he flashes a quick smile, picking up his fork again and taking another bite. “just thought i, like . . . misplaced my phone or something.”
you raise a brow at him but let it slide, not thinking much of it as you continue eating.
drew takes a bite of the eggs, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out an involuntary moan. his hand flies to his mouth, covering it as he starts to laugh, almost embarrassed by how dramatic his reaction is. “oh my god . . .” he mumbles, shaking his head like he can’t believe it.
you look over at him, confused but amused by his reaction. “what?” you ask, smiling, not quite getting what’s so funny.
he finishes chewing, still grinning, and gestures at the eggs with his fork. “these. i know it has to be you who made the eggs.”
you raise an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. “what do you mean?”
“there’s just something about the way you make them,” he explains, his voice sincere. “i don’t know what it is, but it’s like i could pick your eggs out of a million different versions. they’re always so . . . perfect. they melt in my mouth every time.”
you laugh, slightly bashful but clearly appreciating the compliment. “whatever,” you say, though you’re smiling. “they’re just eggs.”
he shakes his head, still smiling back at you. “no you’ve got, like, the magic touch or something.”
curious now, you take a bite of your own eggs, chewing thoughtfully before pausing. you look over at him, nodding slowly in agreement.“you’re right. these are good.”
drew laughs at your half-joking realization, and you can’t help but join in. the moment feels light and easy, like a glimpse of what things used to be, even if it’s just for a second. “told you,” he teases, leaning into you as he takes another bite.
you grin, leaning back into him. “okay, fine, maybe i do have a magic touch.”
the laughter fades, leaving a comfortable silence as you take another bite of your breakfast. it’s easy, almost natural, how quickly you fall into this rhythm—like no time has passed. drew shifts beside you, the subtle change in his posture drawing your attention.
he clears his throat, looking over at you. “thanks . . . by the way,” he says, and you look at him as he gestures to the food. “for breakfast. this is really nice.”
you give him a small smile, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “just don’t get too used to it.”
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you’re laughing and singing songs with the girls as you make your way down to the beach. you’re only really carrying your towel with you as you skip down to an open spot. libby’s protecting her large floppy hat as she runs there with you, shouting that you all should make camp here.
you look behind you and wait for the others. you spot drew immediately as he carries the bluetooth speaker in one hand but on his opposite shoulder is the large tote bag you gave him earlier. he posed for you when you said he looked like a mother.
“hurry, hurry, hurry!” you say, mainly to drew, because he has the groups shared essentials. “i can literally feel my skin aging the longer you guys take.”
roman trudges through the sand, clearly not enjoying the trek, even though it’s better than if they didn’t stay at a beach house like they are now. “you know, if you’re so concerned about your skin aging, maybe you should’ve thought about that before today,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
gia grimaces at how stupid he is. “or maybe you should’ve thought about showering before leaving the house, babe,” she says, then continues walking over until she reaches you and libby.
roman stops in his tracks, feigning offense. “i’m literally holding your second bag to the beach. like who even does that?” he gestures dramatically to the extra tote slung over his shoulder.
theo comes up from behind and pats his shoulder to say that it’s okay as he passes by, so roman mumbles something under his breath as he continues.
eventually, you’re stripping down to your bikini as you watch the waves. you unbutton your shorts and pull them down, shimmying out of them before tossing them onto your towel that’s already been laid out.
you pull your hair away from your face as you look toward the group. “is anyone going in the water?” you ask them, but there’s several no’s and not yet’s that make you frown.
“i’ll go in later maybe,” theo volunteers for you. “i just came down here to bring the chairs and set my towel down but i still need to cook the hotdogs in the backyard.” he’s pointing behind him, and you groan.
“so boring,” you mumble as theo nudges oscar before they start heading back to the house to begin making late lunch already.
“y/n?” gia says as she plans on handing you the sunscreen next. she and roman have already had a turn as they share their towel together. roman looks as grumpy as ever as he rubs the sunscreen into his skin while gia sits pretty and tries to keep her hair out of her face.
you drop to your knees on your towel and shuffle forward to reach for the bottle that gia hands you, and you plant your butt back down on your towel.
drew finishes setting up the speaker for leila to play her music, and he glances over just in time to see you about to apply sunscreen. he hesitates for a moment, then clears his throat, “you want some help?”
you look up, a bit surprised but also amused. “are you volunteering?”
“maybe,” he replies, “just thought i’d help out.”
you bite your lip, considering it. “okay, but just my back, please.” you’ve already squeezed some sunscreen into your hand so you decide to spread it on your legs while he gets to work on your torso.
he steps onto your towel and crouches down behind you. as his hands glide over your skin, you can’t help but sigh in relief. “you’re kinda really good at this. i feel like i’m at a spa.”
drew grins, glancing at you. “guess i’ve picked up a few tricks over the years.”
there’s a moment of playful silence as you finish your legs, and he begins massaging the sunscreen into your shoulders. you tilt your head back a little, relishing in the feeling.
it almost feels nice to recognize the familiar hands across your skin. he’s dipping down toward your chest as he settles down to get closer, reaching around you. you make it easier by leaning back against his chest while watching his hands, making sure he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t be.
but it’s like you’re in a daze as you witness the way he rubs it into your chest, around your bikini top, and down to your waist. he knows your body well enough to know that he’ll cause goosebumps immediately, and he does.
a part of you feels guilty, like it’s almost wrong—but it is all for the plan, right? you make up the excuse for yourself as drew’s hands move back up, edging the bottom of your breasts as your breath hitches. you hear his breathing by your ear as you watch him be so careful, so cautious with where he touches you.
but before it goes any further, he pulls away, and honestly, you think it's a smart choice. you swallow down whatever you just felt as you pull yourself together, and you glance behind you as he gets up. “thanks, star,” you murmur, and you hear a faint ‘uh-huh’ as he sits back to do his own.
you make sure he’s rubbed everything in briefly before turning back to see what he’s doing. he’s already spreading sunscreen onto his arms when he catches your eye, and there’s a smile when he understands the situation.
he nods to the bottle that’s just laying on the towel, and you know what this means. that it’s alright if you want to help him too.
you take the bottle into your own hands and squeeze some out onto your palm, then crawl behind him to sit down. you work on his back for a while, and you can’t help but admire him while he can’t see you.
you notice everything. the way his back muscles flex, how he flinches the moment your hands touch him, but also the way he relaxes into your touch the second after.
he’s waiting patiently for you, and you hear him chuckle a bit after you finish, so you crawl on all fours to sit down in front of him. you give him a look, asking if he’s already done it yet, but he shakes his head.
you smile to yourself as more sunscreen lands in your palm, and you massage it into his shoulders first. he sits up straight for you as you slowly make your way down.
you can’t tell if he’s flexing his abs as a joke but you look up at him and make eye contact, just inches away, and you smile at each other. he’s stupid but it still amuses you regardless.
he leans back and holds himself up by his palms, looking up to the sun. his eyes are clamped shut as he scrunches his nose briefly.
you move your hands lower until you reach his v-line, a little underneath the hem of his shorts. you shouldn’t be going there but you do anyway. he tenses immediately when you start and you know what you’re doing—you can’t help it—but you pull away and spread the remaining sunscreen on his face to make sure he’s fully covered. you feel like a mother when you do, but ignore it.
“i appreciate it, thank you,” he says to you, and you close the sunscreen bottle and toss it back over to one of the open chairs in case anyone else needs it.
with that, you get up, looking toward the water as you adjust your bottoms. you look back at drew, “come on.”
“what?” he says out of habit, before realizing what you’re talking about. “no.”
“come on,” you say again as you walk to him and grab his arms, then his wrists, to pull him onto his feet. you know he’s willing because you’re even able to move him.
you let go of his wrists as you make your way over to the water. “let’s go! just for a bit! you can just dip your feet in.”
drew doesn’t say anything but him rolling his eyes tells you everything. he’s so sassy, but it makes you grin as you hold your hand our for him to take. he’s slow as he walks over, pretending to not want to, and you groan.
“okay then go sit back down if you don’t want t—”
you’re terrified when he starts charging at you, and you scream as you run to the water as if it’ll help you. he runs in there with you, but you’re constantly looking back and going deeper in when you see he’s still determined to catch you.
he’s pretending to be some monster as he fake growls, though it’s just his face with no round, while clawing at the water as he tries to make his way over to you.
the small waves hit your torso and your hair as it splashes up your body. it’s colder than you thought it would be, and your mouth gapes open in shock.
drew ends up catching up to you and he scoops you up with ease since you’re in the water, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you further into the ocean by your bum.
you look toward the group and see what everyone’s doing in just a brief moment—theo and oscar still gone, you see roman even heading back to the house to help probably, gia’s tanning while laying on her towel, then leila and libby are talking while on the beach chairs right beside her.
drew stops walking when you reach a good spot that won’t kill you in a wave. hopefully. but he doesn’t set you down. the water already reaches high on his torso, so he assumes it’s best not to put you down and risk an incoming wave.
you hold on tight as you look out to the horizon, and you pull away to look at him. there’s an instant smile that forms when you’re face-to-face.
“the water feels nice,” you say awkwardly. the ocean is cold against your back but any body part that touches drew’s body is warm. he’s warm. “i’m really glad you came.”
drew cocks his head to the side as he squints his eyes, “i’m pretty sure i had to. leila wanted to go to the beach today so uh . . .”
“no you fucking—” he’s laughing and you have to wait until he’s done. “you know i meant on this trip,” you tell him.
“i’m glad you came too,” drew says, and you pull him closer again, burying yourself between your arm and the side of his head, and you close your eyes as the waves push you back and forth.
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hours pass, unexpectedly. you didn’t initially plan on staying there for so long—none of you do, but time just flies. you’ve eaten the hotdogs provided by the boys, which you heard some got burnt thanks to theo.
you played volleyball a bit after, boys vs girls. you wanted to sit out but leila convinced you to stay.
“don’t be such a baby, roman!” you remember gia yelling to her boyfriend from across the net, and then he was hit with the volleyball again.
now it’s nightfall. you’ve all packed up and returned to the house simultaneously to take showers. some stay to talk or build really sad sand castles out of cups from the house while others occup the showers.
“why don’t you and theo just shower together?” you remember libby asking leila as you and her laid on the chairs together while libby was on the floor with said sand castle.
leila grimaces. “washing sand out of his ass is not romantic whether you’re about to be married or not.”
now you’re all clean, dressed in your pajamas with your freshly wet hair as you sit on the floor with leila. drew is already taking his turn in the shower while you discuss the little scrapbook leila brought on the trip.
she said that she bought everything literally on day one, and she hasn’t gotten around to filling it out yet because she doesn’t know how to. she grabbed you to help and you went to your room to see what she had.
there’s different stickers, paint, flowers, glitter, possibly the entire arts and crafts store all over the floor as you two plan even the first page. she had absolutely no idea what she was doing—you’re certain that she went to the store that day and just started grabbing whatever she thought was cute, but you don’t blame her.
“i just want to show this to our kids or something when they’re our age,” leila says as she rearranges the photograph of her and theo when they first started dating, and she frowns at the memory.
“are you thinking about kids?” you ask her as you glue on a piece of paper in the corner of the page that leila insisted was aesthetic.
leila shrugs, “i mean, you know how it is. eventually, just not now. i don’t think theo and i are ready for that.”
“waking up to crying in the middle of the night,” you let her picture it herself as you scrunch your nose up, “when you already haven’t been able to sleep for days.”
“that’s the only part i’m not excited about,” leila tells you, and she pauses as she thinks about it. “besides the vomiting, the screaming, the pooping, so really i—”
“—should not have a child anytime soon,” you cut her off, and she chuckles, nudging you with her shoulder as she plays around with some of the stickers.
leila sighs after a bit and she looks around, but it’s difficult to see right away when all the stuff is on the floor. “what time is it? i feel like it’s getting late, or it’s ice cream sundae time.”
“probably the second one,” you mumble as you look around for your phone. you don’t know where it is but it clearly isn’t there. it must be in one of the tote bags downstairs, but that’s too far away. “hold on.”
you get up and carefully step over the mess you’ve created—though leila’s already collecting everything to call it a night—and approach your side of the bed. your phone isn’t there still and there’s no clock in this particular room.
you take a peek over at drew’s side of the bed. his phone is laid face down on his nightstand, almost about to fall off. you sigh as you grab it and plan on putting it safely on the nightstand after you check the time really quickly.
“it’s just 10,” you tell her.
she nods as she stuffs her bag with more supplies, muttering under her breath, “definitely sundae time.”
you’re about to put his phone down when a notification comes in. he has a million already pending but you don’t even plan on looking at them until this one comes in just now.
‘ are you seriously with her? ’
you furrow your eyebrows as you check the name.
mila?
is this his girl best friend or something?
another notification comes in right after that that you can’t ignore.
‘ i’m going to sleep. just text me tomorrow. ’
‘ please. ’
‘ i miss you. xo ’
the words blur together for a second, but the meaning behind them hits you all at once. he’s been talking to someone else this whole time, since before the plan was even made probably. you feel a twist in your stomach, but you try to steady yourself, taking a slow breath.
you weren’t expecting this, but it’s not like he owes you anything. you knew things had changed between you two, but seeing these messages—it hurts more than you thought it would.
you’ve been getting closer, laughing together, and just being there in the ocean in his embrace . . . and the whole time, someone else has been on the other side of his phone, waiting for him.
if you had known, if drew had told you he was still talking to someone, you never would’ve agreed to this plan.
you feel uncomfortable, a little betrayed, but not heartbroken. it’s not that deep—not yet. but it’s enough to make you feel like you’ve stepped into something you weren’t prepared for.
“you wanna make the sundae with me?” leila’s voice barely rips you from your thoughts as she gathers her things in her bag and stands up, waiting on you.
“what? no, i’m fine,” you tell her. “i’m probably gonna head to bed soon? i don’t know, i’m tired but i’ll let you know. i’ll probably join you, knowing me.”
she smiles at you but leaves it at that, and leaves the room, leaves your thoughts to grow bigger and louder now that you’re alone.
you don’t check any more of his messages, respecting enough of his privacy not to dig. the weight of those few words heavy in the air as you switch his phone off and set it back down on the nightstand.
i miss you. xo
you shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. this was supposed to be for your friends, just a harmless plan to avoid awkward questions. that’s all. but now, you’re starting to wonder if there’s more going on here than you realized.
this wasn’t part of the plan.
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mywritersmind · 15 hours
Text
TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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