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#we can bump into each other here!
fuwaprince · 1 year
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What if I held a Don't Jump! "rooftops are for enjoying the view" suicide awareness month event where we threw a fucking rooftop party and it was like... a retreat for the stressed out bitches to just be happy and get the support of their peers. There'll be lights and art and snacks and music. We'll wave at people looking up at us from the ground and invite them with friendly smiles. We'll play. We'll dance. We'll sing together. It'll be a festival on the roof. And next time someone feels like jumping they'll remember the fun we had and the friends they made that day who they could always text or call instead. Can we make this happen?
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resident-rats · 6 days
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THERES A NEW CAT IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD!!!!
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jesskasb · 1 year
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ritsu and shou gaming. ritsu and shou climbing trees. ritsu and shou making a youtube video. ritsu and shou shopping. ritsu and shou skateboarding. ritsu and shou trying weird food. ritsu and shou staring contest. ritsu and shou playing club penguin. ritsu and shou hiking. ritsu and shou people watching. ritsu and shou ritsu and shou doing literally anything. i think they're friends and i think they should hang out
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What the hell was that other anon on, I signed up to see masadai and minedai good shit, not that cursed timeline, it caused me PHYSICAL PAIN to read that last ask
Not even "oomf angst" pain but physical pain from trying to comprehend this at all smh REAL LIFE PSYCHIC DAMAGE
you hear that other anon we gotta stone you to death. sorry this is a democratic inbox :/
#snap chats#good morning campers who's ready for violence :)#honestly no other anon could be onto something if i may be insane to indulge the idea#'snap you're off your rocker' i was never on it now listen to my story#listen if masumi's leaking info to aoki to keep him happy I THINK. we can take an INSANE step forward#whether tojo's left kamurocho yet or not TBD POINT IS daigo's gotta keep seeing aoki to keep him happy#something something having the yakuza chairman so readily available and in the palm of his hand etc etc that kind of power trip#daigo's here for his boys though he can grin and bear it#and then mine comes back. mine's trying to dodge daigo yk the whole Gulit Thing but for whatever reason they bump into each other#daigo's obviously elated like His Dead Wife's Back right#mine'll resist on seeing daigo again afterwards but daigo's stubborn and /really/ needs an actual friend right now#moving right along with this bs tho mine finally gets over himself and becomes bold and wants to try again to be in daigos life#HOWEVER. daigo has to hesitate. he'd LOVE to have mine back but the situation in the tojo's so fragile#it's not that daigo isn't a champ at sneaking around and hiding info but if he's at all caught rekindling with mine that could be trouble#and daigo knows if he tells mine the scoop he's going to do something drastic#do we see what im cooking here. i feel sick idk what happened but i feel ill so i MIGHT just be insane#but in review this is not. THE WORST idea conceivable#anon from last night you were onto something but ima need you to stop calling aoki 'masato'#'snap theyre the same guy it doesnt matter' that might be true but it's still trippy#also ARE they the same guy. are they REALLY Boat Of Theseus kind of deal#(theyre the same guy but it really does trip me up to read 'masato' when you mean his aoki era and vice versa stop that im begging)
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sttoru · 7 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
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“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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choslut · 16 days
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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.
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↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.
tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k
author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!
this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.
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it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 
it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 
it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 
“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“
nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”
he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 
he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 
it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 
“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”
he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 
nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 
well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 
“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”
“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 
you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 
“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”
your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 
“kentooo…”
“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 
you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”
copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 
he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 
“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 
“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”
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PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia
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saeist · 4 months
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what are we? ── bakugo k. (1.4k)⊹ ࣪ ˖ part two
"so.. who here has a secret boyfriend we don't know about?" mina asks the first thing that came to mind not even a minute after this impromptu slumber party that's currently held in yaoyorozu's room
after a long week of training and pro hero studies, you lot decided to why not unwind by having a little sleepover at one of the girls' rooms. yaoyorozu was kind enough to volunteer to hold it in her room as she has never experienced sleepovers with others
you all looked at each other with curiosity. curious if anyone was actually in a committed relationship that the class didn't know about. not like it was their business or anything..
"what? nobody? that's kinda hard to believe.." hagakure comments, genuinely surprised since usually at this age where everyone is in high school, you're bound to get into relationships
"i mean it's like we have the time to mingle around since we're busy with training and on top of that, trying to keep afloat with our academics" tsuyu points out, a finger on her chin as she recalls if anyone actually had free time to spare amidst all the chaos your class has been through
hearing what tsuyu said, mina whines, dramatically flailing her arms around
"ugh i hate that what you said is true, tsuyu-chan.. but what about crushes! do you guys have a crush on anyone in class or anyone in ua?" mina continues to bombard everyone with questions related to romance. to you it almost feels targeted because you're not too sure if she knows something about you
"crushes?" uraraka trails off. all of a sudden she shakes her head vigorously.
"what's wrong uraraka-chan?" tsuyu asks, worried
"oh my god! are you crushing on someone?!" hagakure squeals, "you have someone in mind don't you!"
the girls (minus you, tsuyu and yaoyorozu) start to bombard her with questions
"is it midoriya?!"
"is it iida?!"
"who?!"
"it's nobody!" uraraka defends herself, shaking her hands around. mina pouts but drops the subject.
you didn't even realize that you were holding in your breath til jirou points it out
"what's with the sigh of relief, y/n?" jirou pokes your side jokingly.
wrong move on your part
suddenly there was a certain glint on mina's eyes. like you just walked into her trap
"you haven't said anything since we started talking about crushes, y/n-chan.. anyone in mind?" mina grins mischievously.
"no one" you say abruptly but it turns out your own body betrays you. you can literally feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks
"oh my god she's blushing! WHO! IS IT IN OUR CLASS OR CLASS B? WHO?! WE NEED TO KNOW" hagakure squeals in joy, suddenly clasping your hands together as she shakes you
"it's nobody you guys-"
"i've been meaning to ask, y/n-san.. if there's anything going on between you and bakugo-san" yaoyorozu speaks up for the first time tonight
mina and hagakure both scream in delight
"what makes you say that, yaomomo?" you ask, trying to calm your heartbeat at the mention of the boy you think you're seeing..
you and bakugo had a weird, for lack of better word, "relationship" going on at the moment. one would call it a situationship but you're still not 100% sure if it's even heading to that direction
it all started after the provisional license exams. the same night where he and deku had a brawl at ground beta. right after bakugo and deku got dismissed by aizawa, you bumped into him in the kitchen. obviously scared out of your wits that he was looking all beaten up, you brought him to the nearest bathroom to clean his cuts and bruises
since then you and him had found yourselves in this weird "relationship". sure, he's still the same bakugo you first met during the first day of classes. always brash and rowdy but when it was only the two of you.. he was.. a littler calmer than usual
to others, he was his usual explosive self but when it came to you, his tone would be a little softer. still, it's still rough around the edges but the subtle change is noticeable if you were a close friend of his
overtime, you and bakugo slowly became touchy with each other. there were lingering stares, lingering touches when you two were paired up to spar during training and what not
obviously with this sudden change of attitude towards you, the whole class noticed it. why were you getting treated differently by the king explosion god himself?
and before you even noticed it, you found yourself almost by his side at all times in the dorms. may it be in the kitchen where you're basically his second in command when he was in charge of cooking, in the lounge whenever everyone decides to have a little movie marathon or a little celebration, literally everywhere to the point everyone had made assumptions that you two have something going on
have you guys said anything about your little situation? no
have you guys shared a kiss? maybe
have you guys been caught holding hands? definitely. on multiple occasions
but nobody dared to question it. or else they would've been blown away by boom boom boy himself.
that is until, the girls found an opening which was tonight at yaoyorozu's room, in the middle of your slumber party
"i didn't mean to eavesdrop that one time but i overheard you giving him your notes when he was under house arrest for a few days" yaoyorozu sheepishly admits. she suddenly clasps her hands together and bows as she spews apologies for eavesdropping that one time
and like a domino effect, it seems like all the girls have noticed something about the two of you all along
"that reminds me! when we were practicing for the school festival, one time i saw bakugo teaching y/n how to play drums!" jirou quips
"did you guys notice the look on bakugo's face during the joint training with class 1-b when she got hit by gevaudan?! he was pissed!" uraraka adds
"don't think we didn't notice the look you have on your face whenever bakugo comes home from their remedial classes" hagakure teases
"god i've been dying to know! kirishima keeps telling me that he hears bakugo laughing to himself late at night at times now it's all clicking!" mina gushes
all this time you thought you and bakugo hid it well. then again it's like you two even had the chance to properly talk about whatever you two have going on
"so what do you have to say for yourself, y/n-chan? or cat got your tongue?" mina teases, nudging your shoulder
all the girls lean forward, awaiting for your answer
"... we're friends- yeah that's right! we're just friends you guys" you say awkwardly, scratching the back of your head as a nervous habit to top it all off
mina and hagakure don't buy it
"that's not very nice of you to deny your boyfriend like that" mina teases, poking you multiple times in hopes you break (you almost do)
not wanting to say anything else that could potentially jinx whatever you have going on with the blonde, you shrug. it might be a little embarrassing on your end to admit that you and the infamous bakugo katsuki were in a little dilemma you call a situationship
sensing that you weren't gonna budge anytime soon, mina moves on with the subject. talking about what quirks they wished they have from the class
you took this time to pull out your phone and send a little update to your.. friend
[9:24PM] you: so the girls asked me if i had a boyfriend.. [9:24PM] kitkats: and what did u say?? [9:25PM] you: i said no lol cus i dont have one [9:26PM] kitkats: ?? [9:26PM] kitkats: so am i just an arm accessory now or?
right before you were able to reply back, mina snatches your phone from your hands.
"no texting during the slumber party!" she yells, before taking a peek at who you're messaging
"give it back, mina!" you scream, trying to get your phone back to prevent her from reading what seems to be a new message from bakugo
"oh my god it's bakugo! wait let me send him a pic so he won't disturb our party" she squeals, taking a quick selfie of everyone with you looking all stressed out
"and.. sent!" she smiles proudly. after what seems like torture (it was only a few seconds) mina tosses your phone back to your hands before continuing on whatever you guys were talking about
not even a minute later, bakugo replies
[9:30PM] kitkats: raccoon eyes you better not set yn up with someone else when im literally right fuckin' here
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noisilyscreechingsong · 5 months
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“The what?”
Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.
So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.
Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.
“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.
“Same,” Danny agrees.
“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.
The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.
“Bet.”
They look at Duke.
Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.
Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.
“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”
Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.
“What’d you see?”
Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.
“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.
“Need a hand?”
Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.
“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.
Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”
“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.
Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.
“Whoa-“
Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.
The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.
“Holy crap! Danny!”
“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”
“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.
“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.
The three brothers all pause and look at him.
“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.
“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.
Danny pulls it back out of reach.
“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.
“What do you-“
But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.
The batboys glance at each other.
“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”
“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”
“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.
“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”
“Cool. That’s fine.”
**
After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.
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chelseeebe · 4 months
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truth or dare
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18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.
a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!
steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.
eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.
you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.
you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.
“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.
you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.
“can you handle that?”
his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.
“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.
“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.
“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”
eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.
“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”
there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.
“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.
“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”
“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”
“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”
pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.
“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”
“dare.”
eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.
“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.
lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.
he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.
“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.
“do we have to play?” eddie whines.
“yes.”
“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.
“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”
he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.
“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.
“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”
you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.
it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.
“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”
you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.
“dare.”
“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.
your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.
he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.
eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.
you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.
“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.
eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.
a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.
he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.
you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.
eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.
he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.
he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.
“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.
“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.
your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.
holy fucking shit.
this was it.
or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.
eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.
“we don’t have to, you know?”
fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.
so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.
pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.
his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.
he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?
you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.
your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.
even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.
there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.
it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.
he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.
your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.
tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.
“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.
wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.
he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.
his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.
your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.
he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.
pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.
he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.
“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.
it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.
nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.
his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.
heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.
his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.
every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.
purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.
this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.
you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.
“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.
just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.
he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.
no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.
his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.
pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.
eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.
“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.
he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.
hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.
but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.
he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.
“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.
his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.
“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.
nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.
he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.
“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.
“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.
“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”
he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.
“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.
eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.
if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.
-
wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.
he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.
“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.
“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.
wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.
“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.
he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.
wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.
eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.
“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.
“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.
you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.
“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.
if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.
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mattybsgroupie · 2 months
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homework | matt sturniolo
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contents: making out; oral (f receiving); handjob (m receiving); sub!matt
- ♡ -
notes: my plan was to post this during the weekend but im anxious to go back to college and i couldn’t help myself and ended up writing everything yesterday lol very nerdy subby matty receiving his first handjob ♡ as usual not proofread but hope you enjoy it lots! tysm for over 1,1K followers ♡ much much love always!
- ♡ -
i heard three rhythmic knocks on my bedroom door and quickly got up, unlocking it and suddenly bumping into matthew, the smartest guy in my class. matt was clever, but extremely quiet - which only made him more charming. i recalled his ears turning a bright red when i asked him for help with my homework, shyness taking over him as he briefly nodded his head.
“hey!” he greeted me, offering a handshake. i touched his hand, slightly caressing his palm with my index, watching as he tried to look away. “we talked yesterday, about… some lessons? you need help with homework?”
“yes!” i happily agreed, spreading the door open. “come in matt, make yourself comfortable”
matt nodded, holding tightly to the books hidden under his arm. “is it really okay for me to be here?” he chuckled. “i mean… it’s the girls dorm”
“don’t worry about it, boys come here all the time” i winked at matt’s figure, balancing his weight from one foot to another, clearly anxious. “unless you… wanna go to the library or something?”
“no!” he eagerly answered. “i-i can teach you here. it’s okay”.
- ♡ -
i wasn’t listening to a single world he said.
matt’s blue eyes underneath the round glasses seemed agitated, following the numbers i had previously written on my notebook. i could see matt’s lips trying to hold a smile at each wrong result, his digits tapping on the yellow pencil between his fingers.
“… so if you divide it by 100, it’s easier to find the percentage” he took me out of my trance, turning his head to stare at me with a confused expression on his face. “am i doing good? are you getting it?”
“you’re doing so good, matt” i let it slip out of my mouth without even thinking, my head resting on my hand while i admired matt’s cheeks flushing red as he gulped. “look at me” i said, raising my finger to his jaw as he tried to look away.
i could feel his breath getting heavier, lips slightly parted as he stood still, not moving an inch. i got closer to him, brushing my lips over his before sealing them together in a small kiss. matt’s hand quickly went to the back of my neck, deepening the pressure of his lips against mine. when i opened my mouth so he could slide his tongue in, matt pulled away - but not far enough, a string of saliva still connecting us to each other.
“i-i’m sorry” he looked at me, panting heavily. “i shouldn’t have done that, i’m really sorry”.
“don’t be” i cupped his cheeks in my palms, giving him a soft peck. “i want it matt, i really do”
“but” he started, eyes traveling through the room, as if he was checking if someone caught us. “i thought y-you wanted to study”
“you already taught me so much” i jokingly pouted, pretending i was tired. the more matt talked, the wetter my panties would get. “why don’t i teach you a few things?” i said, letting one of my hands rest on his thigh.
“like what?” matt asked me hesitantly, looking at how my hand caressed his covered skin. i reached closer to his crotch, accidentally brushing my digits on his half-hard cock, tenting starting to form on his pants.
i smashed our lips together once more, this time hungrier, the wet sounds of our tongues interlocking taking over my dorm. my fingers tangled on matt’s brown curls, carefully pulling his hair so i could get easier access to his neck. i unbuttoned the closed collar of his shirt, traveling down the fabric and repeating the process over and over again.
matt took his glasses off, tossing it over my study table, his hands finally coming to my waist. he didn’t have the courage to tighten his grip and i knew this was the boldest move he’d be able to make, so i grabbed matt’s wrist and brought his palm to my chest, letting him grope my covered tits.
i gasped from the sudden touch, noticing how this made made hesitant to keep kissing me. “a-are you okay?” he asked with puppy, blue eyes.
“yes, fuck- you’re being so good to me”, i sighed heavily and matt nodded eagerly, bringing his mouth to my neck, sucking onto my skin. “what got you so worked up hm?” i asked as i watched his pants getting tighter, fully hard cock.
“fuck! i’m sorry- i didn’t even notice” matt looked down, eyes widening. “you’re just so pretty” he confessed.
“you’re so cute, matt. do you want me to help you out?” i asked, palming him over his jeans.
“please” he let out in a choked moan, “please touch me”
the grin on my face grew wide as matt sunk his teeth on his bottom lip, trying to cover his soft whimpers as i kept on stroking his clothed cock.
i unzipped his jeans, sneaking my fingers into his underwear so i could pull out matt’s dick, which quickly sprung against my palm, almost hitting his own belly. matt adjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs apart as his mouth hang open. i finally got a proper grip of his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his surprisingly large cock.
matt let out a loud groan when i finally started twisting my hand, lifting his left arm to cover his own face. “why are you so shy, baby?” i whispered in his ear.
“n-never… never done that” matt said, squirming on his sit as i pumped him.
“never had a girl touching you like that?” i cooed, watching matt nodding vigorously. “it’s okay, i promise it’s gonna feel good”
“it- mhm- feels good!” he bucked his hips forward when i moved my thumb upwards, circling his leaking tip. “i’m not g-gonna last long” matt said as i tightened the grasp on his length. he kept on jointing his hips, trying to fuck into my fist in a pathetic, sloppy pace.
“you wanna cum for me, matt? wanna show how much of a good boy you are?” i kissed his cheek and tucked his hair behind his red ear, continuously jerking him off.
“fuck, please!” he said, the loudest he’d been the entire night. “i’m your good boy! wanna cum, p-please”
“go ahead” i allowed him, peppering pecks on his damp forehead, sweat dripping from his neck all the day down to his tummy, which was soon painted white from matt’s release. he threw his head back, whimpering as he came on my hand, thick spurt messing us both. 
i got up to wash my hands and grab him a towel, letting matt rest as he came from his high, chest still rising rapidly.
“thank you” he mumbled when i offered to clean him up. “i’m sorry i made such a mess” matt chuckled, watching as i wiped his cum off. “don’t apologize, you did really well babyboy” i praised.
“can… can i try?” he asked me, reaching for his glasses over the table. he quickly put them on again, reading my confused expression. “i wanna make you feel good too” matt said, turning his body to face me.
“you want me to teach you how to please a girl?” i teased him, bringing both of my legs to my chest, exposing the back of my thighs to him.
matt checked me out from head to toe, stopping where my feet landed and not being able to take his eyes off the panties i purposely wore. i knew he’d love pink. “no, not any girl. you- wanna be good for you” he confessed, sliding off his chair and kneeling on the ground.
i widened my eyes, not expecting matt’s sudden move. he touched the hem of my shorts, silently asking me to take them off. i quickly removed it, letting it slide down my legs along with my panties, fully exposing my pussy to him.
“oh, fuck” he mumbled. “it’s so pretty and it’s… it’s all wet”
“you did that to me” i told him, moving my hair to the side so i could get a better look of matt eating me out for the first time.
“how should i do it?” he asked, blue eyes looking for reassurance. my hands went to his brown curls, bringing his face closer to my crotch.
matt stuck his tongue out, slowly licking my lower lips. he widened his eyes once again, probably surprised by the taste and gave it another try as i giggled at his shy performance. matt’s large hands went to my thighs, forcing my legs open as he fully went for it, pressuring a kiss against my clit. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me, spit drooling down his chin as he licked me in the messiest, sloppiest way.
“matt” i called but he didn’t even listen, still eating me out, only raising his eyebrows as he looked at me through his glasses. “you never done this before?” i sighed deeply, tangling my fingers on his hair as i lowered my hips on him.
matt hummed something, probably agreeing with what i had asked, but this only send a wave of vibrations through my folds, my thighs suddenly closing around his head as i felt my orgasm approaching. he was way too good for a virgin.
“matt- fuck!” i moaned loudly, the knot on my lower belly begging to be released. “i’m gonna cum!” i warned as he was about the have a taste for the first time. he moved downwards and started to tease my entrance, his tongue pushing inside my slit as i kept on moving my hips, practically humping his face.
matt continued to eat me out as my orgasm washed over me, making me throw my head back and my body tremble due the overstimulation. i had to pull his hair so he’d remove himself from me, watching his swollen lips covered with my cum. matt licked my release and went back to my thighs, biting my bare skin. “enough, baby” i moaned, feeling his hands holding me in place. “matthew, i said enough”.
he groaned in protest, not wanting to stop. matt gave a few more kisses down my legs, pulling away and staring at me with puppy eyes. i caressed his brown strands, soon cupping his cheeks and sealing our lips. “you did really well for a first time, matt” i thanked him as he got up, sliding his jeans back on.
“so…” he started. “i’m guessing you gave up on your homework?”
“of course not” i rolled my eyes, watching as he buttoned his shirt. “i’m gonna need this good boy to help me every week”.
- ♡ -
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bluetimeombre · 1 month
Text
・❥ ‘Are you Hugh down under?’
You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.
[not proof-read, some sexual innuendo, just Hugh being hot af]
part two
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You and Hugh Jackman being in love for twenty-five minutes (part one)
Puppy interview
Did you take any props home with you?
'Yea, I took Hugh home,' you said, letting a puppy climb over you and onto your shoulders as Hugh laughed. 'In his suit as well.'
'In the suit,' he said, stroking the puppy in his lap.
'Yep. Great in the house, goes with all my furniture. He's well trained.'
Hugh nodded, enthusiastically. 'I'm not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other ways.'
You raise your brows and the crew laugh. 'I want to know what the other ways are now.' You smirk.
Hugh smirked back, shrugging his shoulders as he held up the puppy. 'Well, maybe you'll find out.'
What was your favourite scene to film?
'Any scene with the incredible talent sitting next to me,' Hugh started. 'Every scene was such fun and never felt like work when I got to work with her. I've never had so much fun playing a character. The whole movie at first, you know, the idea was up in the air for me about coming back but just to get the chance to work with such a talent- an honour and a privilege and I can't wait to do it again.'
Your lips pout into a smile as you listen to him. You focused on Hugh as he smiled at you. 'My favourite scene to film was when I touched his abs.'
He laughed.
'No, seriously it's been a dream of mine to work with Hugh and I can't talk about it too much cause I'd probably get emotional and that'd be embarrassing. I've grown an emotional attachment to him now,; you added.
Hugh looked around at all of the puppies. 'Is there more puppies here than usual?'
'Oh yea, there's more!'
'Someone's been making out,' said Hugh.
'Not us,' you said, leaning over.
He laughed. God, he was always laughing with you.
With Alison Hammond
The two of you sat next to each other, legs bumping into each other repeatedly to tease each other. At times you'd just throw your leg over his thigh and he'd bounce his leg. (Fans ate it up)
'Alright you two,' said Alison.
'Sorry,' you laugh. 'He's taking up too much space.'
'The Wolverine spread,' he said.
You laughed.
Alison gave her a loud laugh. 'Well, is it true, Hugh?' she asked. 'Are you huge down under?'
The three of you laughed, rocking back and forth and hitting your knees.
'I started the rumour,' you said. 'So, take that as you will.'
Hugh showed Alison his shoe as she fanned herself off.
You took another card she offered you and fanned yourself off as Hugh sat back, throwing his arms behind his head.
'So, we should probably talk about the film,' said Alison.
'Let's just talk about Hugh,' you said, leaning back just like he was. 'Ever won an Oscar, Hugh?'
He pulled a straight face at you.
'Now, can I say, Y/N, this is a bit awkward as usually it's just me and Hugh. Last time we had a date, so I've brought champagne, but only two glasses,’ she pulled off the cover that showed off the bucket.
'I'll take the bottle,' you said, reaching over the two of them. 'I can leave you guys, don't worry.'
Hugh grabbed your arm as you tried to leave. 'No, no, you can be our mediator.'
'Your intimacy coordinator more like,' you said as Alison laughed. 'I've seen how these interviews go Alison, I've never had Hugh feed me chocolates.'
Hugh reached over the table as Alison talked about 'a throuple' and he opened the box of chocolates, throwing away the thin layer of film covering them with his teeth. You only realised what was going on seconds before he fed you chocolate from his mouth. You tried to stay calm the closer you got and took the chocolate, chewing down happily.
'Feel like I'm interrupting something,' said Alison.
You stole the box from Hugh. 'Your turn, Alison!'
'So how tough was it working with Hugh, Y/N?'
You slapped your thighs dramatically. 'The toughest ever. You know sometimes I'd actually have to look at his face and I mean, have you seen this-' you frame his face, holding his chin. 'How can I work with this?'
He stuck his tongue out.
(Almost this whole interview was the two of you flirting)
Hot one's interview
'You're watching hot ones. It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we're joined by Y/N and Hugh Jackman, the stars of Wolverine and Ladypool.'
'I only let Wolverine come first so we could use the greatest showman in the movie,' you said. 'For Hugh.'
First wing and first question.
You and Hugh cheers with Sean before taking a bite. You nod, 'Good wing, subtle, nice.' You went in for another bite, surprising them.
'Oh, you're going for another bite,' said Hugh, eyes watching your lips (comments couldn't let it go).
'Yeah, I like things hot,' you tell him, giving him a dramatic wink.
'What was the movie that you watched of each other that made you realise you needed to work with each other?' asked Sean.
'As soon as I saw the first Ladypool,' said Hugh. 'I knew these two characters had to be together on screen. I was like these two characters had to be together and I'd literally announced my retirement three days before.'
'Mine was probably when I saw the first ten minutes of Australia,' you said, referring the first ten minutes in which he turns up shirtless and sweaty. 'Knew I needed to see it real-time.'
Hugh huffed out a laugh.
'Or Logan. That was, a masterpiece of a film.'
The next couple wings went down well, getting through the questions. It was the fifth when things started to get heated.
'Yep, that's a step up,' said Hugh as he went for the milk.
'Can you recall the most takes you've had to do for a scene requested by a director?' asked Sean.
'Our steamy scene in the car had quite a few takes,' you said, Hugh agreeing with a nod. 'Kept messing up, you see,' you said, winking.
'That was a difficult scene,' said Hugh.
'Why cause you had to kiss me?'
Hugh shook his head. 'That was the easiest part, I'm laughing, I'm not crying cause of the heat. But doing some of those... positions we had to do in the car, it was hard to work around.'
'I got cramp in my leg.'
He laughed loudly at the memory.
The next wing messed the two of you up, the heat creating sweat. All Hugh could do was laugh and you laughed at him as he went red.
'Look, look at this!' Hugh puts his arm up, showing his bicep.
'What am I looking at? Your raging muscles?' you ask, looking closer.
'No, the sweat.'
'Oh, sorry I was distracted.'
On the next wing, Hugh repeated he took too big a bite, how it was too big and all you had to do was give him a look with raised brows.
You and Hugh take a lie detector test
First hooked up was Hugh, you watched in glee as ties were wrapped around him.
'This is a new kink,' you said, smiling all too widely as Hugh laughed at you.
You started by asking him some simple questions that were easy answers, like his name and where he was born. 'Are you really Australian?'
'Yes.'
You looked to Louis. 'Tell me it's a lie.'
'Truth.'
'This Australian bit has got so far,' you say.
'You love it,' he said.
'We'll find out when I'm hooked up.'
'How you seen all my movies?' you asked.
He thought for a moment. 'No.'
'Deceptive.'
The two of you looked at each other with amused looks and big eyes. 'You can tell me you've seen them all, you can be a fan, I don't mind.'
He shrugged. 'Maybe I have.'
'You're a fan it's fine.'
'I'm wearing my I heart Y/N underpants today,' he said.
You looked wide-eyed and hopeful at Louis.
'Deceptive.'
You cheer.
'In 2008 you were said to be the sexiest man alive-'
'Said to be,' he scoffed. 'Pretty sure the right word is elected.'
'The question is how many copies of the magazine do you have?' you asked.
'How many do you have?' he threw back.
'I'm not the one on the fucking monitor right now.'
'A standard of fourteen hundred?'
'Is there any more to life than being really, really, really, really, really ridiculously good looking?' you ask, leaning back in your chair. 'That's not on the cards, I just want to know.'
'No.'
'Truthful.'
The two of you cackle. After a couple more questions it was your turn to swap. Hugh took delight in seeing you get tied up.
'Starting to sweat a bit,' you said. 'This really is scary.'
'Yea.'
Again, Hugh started off with some simple questions.
'Last one,' he said. 'Are you single?'
You pulled a straight face as he turned red and watched you. 'Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that fact, Hugh.'
He shook his head. 'Don't worry, we can change that, we can change that.'
'Only if you're offering, bub,' you tease.
'Would you rather have had an Andrew Garfield Spider-man team up than Wolverine?' he asked.
Your jaw dropped as he showed you the question on the card. 'That's not fair I love spiderman and Andrew.'
'But do you love him more than Wolverine?' asked Hugh, feigning seriousness. He waited as you thought about it, head in his hand.
'True,' you said.
'That's a lie.'
'Ha!' Hugh shouted.
'I've shocked myself, man, I must really fancy you,' you said.
Hugh slid over a paper, showing you a picture of Channing Tatum. 'Do you think he would make a good Gambit?'
You try to act cool, he was already in the movie and Hugh knew it. 'Yes, I think he would. It's a shame his movie wasn't made. I feel bad for the guy.'
'Truthful.'
You pick up the picture. 'I love this guy, he's a great guy,' you stare down at the picture, 'He'd made a great Wolverine. I mean, I'm just getting lost in his eyes right now, looking at him.'
Hugh reached over. 'Ok, enough of that,' he took the picture and ripped it up, chucking it behind him.
You and Hugh at the premier
The camera snapped shots of the two of you wearing each other's colours. You were wearing a shimmering golden outfit while Hugh wore red. You had agreed to swap.
The two of you took pictures together, his arm wrapped around your waist, yours going between reaching up to hold his shoulder or holding his hands. You didn't stop for many interviews together, but you spoke a lot on the carpet. That tiktoker, the one good at reading lips had a field day on tiktok when she worked it all out.
Hugh: 'You look great in yellow, you know.'
You: 'You should see the colour of what I'm wearing under here.'
Hugh smirked and laughed. 'You look beautiful tonight.'
It was your turn to blush and tug him along the carpet.
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imaginedisish · 2 months
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Need 2 (Logan Howlett x f!reader)
A/N: So...I'm back already lol. This sort of just came to me last night. I was rewatching the first and second X-Men movies and got a little inspired. This is also inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove. Didn't think I'd be posting another fic already, but here we are. Hopefully y'all enjoy!
Summary: You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one another through your nightmares.
Warnings: 18+! Smut! Minors DNI! PWP. Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Fingering, AFAB!reader, fem!reader, Reader has some hair at the nape of her neck that can be played with (length, color and texture are not described!), mutant!reader, cursing, canon typical violence, angst, praise kink, feelings, nightmares, friends to lovers, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's all?
Word Count: 3,906
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Some nights, it was easier not to sleep. It was easier to go down into the kitchen, the living room, or one of the many libraries in the mansion and stay awake. It was easier than forcing yourself to go to bed, just to wake up screaming thirty minutes later. 
So tonight, like far too many nights, you’ve found yourself in your favorite corner in your favorite library in the mansion. You’re reading Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Sartre when a familiar figure enters the room. 
“What’re you doing awake?” Logan’s voice is gruff, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his beater tight against his chest. “You should be asleep.”
“Can’t sleep,” You answer, placing a bookmark between the pages and shutting the book. You look up at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room. 2:00 AM. “You should be sleeping too.” You smirk patting the free space next to you on the loveseat. 
He shakes his head. “Too stuffy in here.”
You roll your eyes, placing the book down on the couch. “Then what’s your plan, big guy?”
He holds up his beer and points down the hall. “Gonna sit in front of the T.V. You can too,” he pauses tentatively, “if you want.”
“S-sure,” you stutter. Why are you stuttering? You spend time with Logan constantly. This isn’t new. This is normal. You feel your heart rate pick up. This is ridiculous. This is a totally regular night. 
You stand and follow him down the hall and into another room, one with a lit fireplace and a television. You both sit down, leaving a generous amount of room between the two of you. Logan reaches for the remote and turns the T.V. on. He surfs through the channels before stopping on a movie you instantly recognize. 
“Casablanca?” You ask, turning towards him, letting yourself move just a bit closer as you do so. You feel like he’s moved closer in too. 
He nods, his eyes glued to the screen. “It’s a classic.”
You can’t help but smirk. “Never pinned you for the love story type.”
“You’d be surprised,” he says back as he turns towards you again. There’s a faint smile on his face. You swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before he turns to face the T.V. again. 
A few minutes go by like this, the two of you just inches away from one another. You can’t concentrate on the movie with him this close. It’s impossible. 
Despite the heat of the fire, you start to feel a chill. Goose bumps rise on your arms, and you pull your legs into your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees. 
Logan immediately notices, shifting to grab the throw blanket from behind him. “Cold?” He asks, taking the opportunity to move closer towards you as he tosses the blanket over the two of you. 
“Y-yeah, thanks,” you answer. But you’re still cold. You bring the blanket up so that it rests just under your chin. For such an old mansion, the A/C must work great. No wonder the fire was already lit when you and Logan got in here. 
Logan notices again. He rests his arm against the back of the couch. “You could…” He trails off, nodding his head to offer the space right next to him, in his arms. “Come over here?” You nod back, scooching closer until your side presses into his. 
He’s an absolute furnace. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing up and down your arm gently. He’s so warm. You instinctively curl into him, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in months, you feel comfortable enough—safe enough—to fall asleep. 
“Better?” He asks, his lips brushing against your forehead. 
You nod against his chest. “So much better.” You whisper. You can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You let them fall shut. Let yourself go. Give in. Finally. 
“Lo?” You quietly call out. You’re so close to sleep that you don’t even realize you’re speaking. 
You can feel his smile on the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You feel so nice.” You’re mumbling, half asleep. It’s nonsense, but it’s true. “So safe.”
He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You do too. Now get some sleep.”
You shake your head softly. “Only if you sleep, too.” 
You think you feel another kiss. One of his hands reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “I will, I promise.”
You drift off to sleep, waking up just once about an hour and a half later to see Logan still on the couch beside you. He’s asleep, still holding you to his chest. You don’t wake him. You let yourself fall asleep again. 
You wake up a few hours later, this time in your own bed, the sun shining through your curtains. You notice a note next to your pillow. 
Glad you got some sleep. -Logan
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You can hear him, his grunts, his screams. You jump out of bed and sprint down the hall. You don’t need a flashlight to find his room. You know the way by heart. You don’t even bother knocking. You burst in and shut the door behind you. 
You run over to the side of his bed and start to softly shake him. “It’s just a dream, Lo,” you call out to him. He doesn’t wake up. He’s still grunting, still tossing and turning. You feel helpless. “Logan, it’s okay.” You speak a bit louder this time, putting more of your weight on his shoulders as you shake him. Nothing. No change. 
“Logan, please wake up.” Louder again. And still nothing. “Fuck it.”
You climb onto the bed, maneuvering so that you can get on top of him. You’re straddling him now, which probably isn’t the world’s greatest idea. You shake his shoulders harder as he winces, his head thrashing against the mattress, his chest rapidly rising and falling. 
“Come on, Lo, wake up.”
And then, he’s sitting up, claws out, the tips just nudging the base of your throat. “It’s me!” You shout. “It’s just me!” You can hear the shing of his claws retracting. You look down to see that the collar of your shirt is sliced.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” He’s wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, scanning your body frantically for any injury. He’s moving up and down your skin like a wildfire, checking every possible surface that he could have pierced or sliced. 
You try to stop him, but he refuses to listen. “You didn’t get me, Logan. I’m okay, really.” 
He pushes you down onto the mattress, carefully turning you over onto your stomach before you can protest. “I’m just checking your back, okay?”
“You couldn’t have touched my back. That’s physically impossible.” You try to turn back over, but he keeps you down, one hand pinned between your shoulder blades as the other pulls up your shirt to search your skin. You suddenly remember you aren’t wearing a bra. You’re not wearing any shorts, either. Just your oversized pajama shirt and panties.
His fingers gently trace your skin before reaching up to pull the shirt back down. He finally lets you turn over. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees, just a few inches away from Logan. It’s your turn to reach out to him now. You bring up a tentative hand to his shoulder; he trembles under your touch but doesn’t push you away. You move a bit closer, your knee slotting into the space between his thighs. Your hand slides up his shoulder to his neck, and he finally leans into your palm. 
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers again. He moves closer, shifting his thighs further into your own. “I never, ever want to hurt you.” He brings his arms back around you, hesitantly pulling you into his chest. You let him, let him hold you. You know he needs to—needs to feel someone else. You wrap your arms around his body too. 
“I know, Lo. It’s okay. No more apologizing.” You hold him tighter. “Are you okay?”
He hums as his face burrows into the crook of your neck. “Just a nightmare.” A part of you is surprised he’s letting you hold him and holding you back. “I fucked up your shirt.”
You let your head rest against his shoulder. “I know.” 
“Almost fucking killed you.” He’s trembling again like he wants to push you away. 
You hold him tighter. “You didn’t though,” You mumble against his bare skin. “Please don’t run away. Let me hold you, please.” 
He relaxes again, pulling you in tighter in response. “Why do you care about me?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Why do you care about me?” You ask back. 
He scoffs. “Because I…” He trails off. You can tell he’s not giving you the whole truth. “I just do. You’re you. That’s all there is to it.”
“Exactly. And you’re you.” You can feel his lips ghost against your neck—not quite a kiss, but not quite nothing either. “So, I care about you too.”
“I don’t deserve it, the way you care about me.” His lips don’t move from that half-kiss position along your neck as he speaks. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Your voice is suddenly stern, assertive. “You deserve so much, Logan. So much.” Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss against his bare shoulder. And then another. And another. 
“You should go back to bed.” His voice is low and hoarse. He finally presses a true kiss into your neck, too. 
You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Let me stay with you.”
“But what if I—” 
You cut him off. “Please.”
He doesn’t protest this time. He just guides you down to the pillows, keeping one arm tightly around your waist as the other brings the covers up and over the two of you. 
You stay intertwined, your legs tangled up with his, your chests pressed tightly together. You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, gently raking your nails through his hair. His lips find your neck again, kissing that spot just underneath your ear. It’s chaste, but there’s something else there. You know there is. 
You can feel him relaxing, drifting off into sleep, and so you let yourself do the same. There’s nowhere you feel safer than with Logan. 
When you wake up, you’re still in Logan’s bed, but his side is empty. Again, there’s a note on the pillow next to you. 
Thank you. Hope this makes up for what I did. -Logan.
Underneath the note is his favorite Rolling Stones shirt.
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You’re somewhere dark, sitting on a cold metal chair, your hands shackled in more cold metal. The air tastes like metal, too. And then it dawns on you: Magneto. 
His figure appears in front of you, his hand extended out towards something...perhaps someone. Towards no one? No. There he is, floating in front of you. Logan. “NO!” You yell. You can feel your throat burn as you shout.
“Let him go!” You scream. But Magneto doesn’t budge. He holds Logan in the air, bending the metal in his body. He stretches Logan’s claws out. You remember when Logan told you it hurts every time he unleashes them. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in now.  
“Logan!” You cry out. Your abilities don’t seem to work, no matter how hard you try. You’re powerless, helpless, useless. You echo his name repeatedly to no avail. 
You’re forced to sit and watch as his claws bend backward. Tears run down your face as Logan screams in agony. There’s nothing you can do. You thrash in place. 
“Let him fucking go!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Logan! I’m so sorry. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” A familiar name calls for you in the distance, but you ignore it. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. “So fucking sorry.”
The voice shouts your name again. And again. Tears stain your cheeks. 
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.
“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up for me sweetheart.” You know that voice. “I’m right here, just wake up.” 
Your eyes finally flutter open. There he is, in front of you, his solid frame heavy on top of you. “Lo?” You push yourself up to meet him. 
“It’s me, darlin’, It’s me.”
You throw your arms around him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Fuck,” you mumble against him. 
He wraps his arms tightly around your body, carefully bringing you back down to the bed. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m here.”
“How’d you know I was…” You trail off, swallowing harshly, not wanting to think about what you just dreamed of. 
“You called my name. I came the second I heard you.” His voice is soft but shaky. It dawns on you that you scared him. 
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice a trembling mess. 
He presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, and then that usual spot in the crook of your neck. He somehow manages to pull you tighter into his chest. “Don’t be sorry darlin’, please. Nothing to be sorry for.” 
“But I woke you,” you protest. “I scared you.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart.” His breath tickles the skin of your neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He’s kissing you more fervently than normal. There’s something panicked about his movements, like he’s still worried that you might not be fine. 
You take a deep breath. “Lo?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Can you stay with me?” You feel like a child, but you don’t care. You want to feel him. You need to be close to him. You can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever. 
His legs tangle with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a whisper now. 
You nod, pushing yourself further into him. “Need to feel you,” you say, running your hands along his back, his chest, his waist. You need him, every inch, every curve. All of him. 
“Darlin’,” he mutters. “What do you mean?”
You break away from him for just a second. His brows are furrowed. “Need you, Lo.”
You watch his throat bob as he swallows. “You have me.”
“No Logan I-I—” You stutter. “I want you. Need you. I need you closer. Please.” 
His eyes search yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. His fingers climb higher, stopping just below your chest, where the hem of your bra would be. 
You inhale deeply and press harder into him. “Please, Lo. Please.”
“Sweetheart, is this really what you want?” You can feel his breath against your lips. He’s so close, but not close enough. “That dream…” He pauses. “If this is only because of the dream…”
You shut your eyes, remembering what you saw. You feel a tear slide down your still-wet cheek. You breathe deeply. “Wanted you before the dream,” you murmur nervously. 
“Darlin’, you gotta be careful saying things like that.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. Your noses touch gently. He slots his legs higher between yours and pulls you closer. 
“Why?” You ask.
“Because I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.” His hands become less hesitant, his fingers tracing the underside of your chest, slowly charting a course to your nipples. 
He opens his eyes, searching your face for consent, and you immediately nod. “I’m yours. Been yours the whole time.”
That’s all the permission he needs to bring his lips to yours, to hungrily swallow everything you’re willing to give him. His fingers gently pinch your nipples before drawing lazy circles around them. Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue slips across your lower lip. You open up and let him inside, savoring the taste of him. 
You’re still side by side, tangled up with one another, but it’s not close enough. You need more. 
“Logan,” you call, leaving one hand on his bare back as you let the other trail down his chest, to the hem of his sweats. But before you can get any further, he grabs your hand, freezing you in place. 
He shakes his head against yours. “Wanna take care of you.”
“But I wanna take care of you, too,” you whine. 
He just smiles. “You always do, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.” He drops your hand, and one of his own trails down your body, down to the ridden-up hem of your shirt—his shirt, actually—the one he left on the pillow. “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He pulls it up, revealing your stomach and tits. One of his hands continues to massage your breasts, playing with your nipples, while the other travels back down to the hem of your panties. His fingers slip inside, sliding down through your folds and back up to your clit. You shudder under his touch. 
He starts to draw slow, lazy circles there. You can’t help but grind into his hand, needy for more. You whisper his name as his touch becomes harder, faster. 
“So fucking wet for me. Soaking already.” The whimper rising in your throat at his words is swallowed by another deep, desperate kiss. 
You hang onto him, your arms around his back as he pulls you closer to the edge. He can tell you need the contact, the closeness, and so he pulls away from your tits, his now-free hand slipping underneath you and snaking around your waist, holding you closer than before. Your chest is flush with his as his fingers rub harder at your clit. 
You can feel yourself coming undone, your hips rocking against him uncontrollably. “I’m so close,” you pant. 
“I know pretty girl,” he murmurs. He breaks away from your face, finding that spot in the crook of your neck that he loves so much. You throw your head back as his lips find purchase in the same area as always. “Doing so good for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”
His whispers in your ear, his little bites and kisses against that spot on your neck, his fingers on your clit, it’s all too much. “Lo,” you whine, shutting your eyes and pressing your face into his shoulder. 
“That’s it, darlin’, let go.” 
That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You grind down onto his fingers, your hips still canting back and forth as you come undone. You can feel Logan smile against your neck as he slows down his pace. After a moment or two, his hand slips out of your panties and comes up to rest on your hip. 
You bring your forehead back to his. “You alright, sweetheart?” His low, husky whisper fills the air. 
“Mhm,” you hum. “Still want you, Lo.” 
“Are you sure?” He asks, his thumb brushing gently across your hip. 
You nod. “Need you closer.”
“Fuck,” he groans. His thumb hooks under the hem of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. You slip them off the rest of the way as Logan turns you on your back. You watch him above you, thumbs hooked inside his sweats. He pulls them down quickly, his cock springing up to his stomach in the process. Your eyes widen as you take in just how big he is. 
He pushes his sweats down the rest of the way, and he slots himself in between your legs. You can feel the length of him on the inside of your thigh. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl,” he grunts. His forearm rests next to your head, caging you in and keeping him steady, while his other hand guides his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance. 
“Logan,” you whine, your hands reaching up to his neck, pulling his face down to meet you. “I’m yours.” 
You gasp as he fills you up, his hand immediately reaching between your bodies to find your still-sensitive clit. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to his length, rocking into you gently. His thumb flicks your clit before drawing those same lazy circles from before. You’re already close, still drunk off the first orgasm he pulled from you. 
“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Doing so good for me.” You can feel him building speed, pumping in and out of you. He feels so good, rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. He’s so close, so real, so safe.
“Needed you so bad,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in. 
You can feel him throb inside you at your words. “Needed you too.” The sound of his voice pushes you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering around his cock. His circles on your clit are no longer gentle or slow. He thrusts faster, rutting into you hit after hit. 
“L-Lo,” you stutter, shaking underneath him. “I-I’m so clo…” But you can’t finish your sentence. Your eyes flutter open and shut. 
“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Never gonna let you go.”
You take in a sharp breath. “’M’yours,” is all you can manage to say. 
“Mine,” he breathes, his hips rocking into you again and again. “Can feel you squeezing me, beautiful.”
“S-so close,” you choke in between thrusts. His fingers work harder on your clit, his lips moving against yours like they belong there, always. 
“Then let go, darlin’,” he says against your lips. He pushes deeper into you than before, your walls clamping down onto him. You feel heat rise to your chest as you shatter around him. You echo his name over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close behind, his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier with each pump. 
“W-where do you want—”
“Inside.”
“F-fuck,” he’s a choking, moaning mess as he comes undone inside you. You can feel him paint your walls, filling you up. He pumps in and out of you a few more times before he starts to slip out. 
“W-wait,” you stutter, grabbing him, holding him in place. 
He freezes. “You okay?” Concern is painted across his face, his brows furrowed, trying to discern what’s wrong. 
“J-just don’t want you to go,” you murmur. 
He smiles as he slides out of you. He pulls you tightly into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You shut your eyes as his hands settle on your lower back. “Don’t leave, okay?”
“I promise,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Relax. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
You can’t fight your exhaustion anymore, so you do as he says. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, to his kisses on your forehead, to the tracing of letters and shapes along your back. 
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The next morning, as pale light trickles through the curtains of your room, you see there’s no letter. No empty space next to you in the bed. 
There’s just Logan, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Your eyes flutter open. His are still closed. But he can tell you’re awake. 
“’M’not going anywhere,” he mumbles, still half asleep. “Too early. Go back to bed.”
He’s right. So, you do. 
tags: @seamlessepiphany
2K notes · View notes
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Burgeon
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Logan Howlett x Reader Sex Pollen
Summary: Reader works in the science lab at the mutant academy. Trying to grow a new plant from a mutated seed they had found. When the bloom puffs a cloud into her and Logan’s face they both begin feeling strange.
CW: oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, biting, p in v, creampie
a/n: sorry this took so long to write I was depressed :D also surprise its today
~~~
You rested your head on your hands as you watched the plant in front of you slowly yet rapidly bloom a gorgeous, wine red bud. The way the flower held itself closed mesmerized you. How small bumps decorated the stem and the leaves along it were a dark purple color.
Logan, a.k.a. The Wolverine stood next to you. Piddling with one of the enclosed flora that was under surveillance. Not all that interested in the details of your work, but enjoying spending time with you. Especially when the big blue fur ball was not around to distract you. Dusk was approaching as it shined through the greenhouse windows. A beautiful color painted the sky as the darkness of the night approached.
“Oh, Logan! Look the bud is about to bloom!” You wrapped your arm around his pulling him over to you. He groaned as you pulled him over to you. You watched closely as the petals fought each other to release. Taking their sweet time to reveal the beauty within.
“Sure is taking its time,” Logan huffed, eyes fixated on you now. Loving how happy you looked awaiting the new flowers arrival.
The petals dispersed. Revealing the most beautiful black center of the flower. A large cloud of purple dust coming out with it. Before you could say anything, you and Logan both inhaled the fumes. Covering your mouth and coughing aggressively as the pollen stuck to the inside of your mouth. You wide eyed the plant, shocked at what came out of it.
“What the hell— that thing isn’t poisonous is it?!”
“I… I don’t really know,” you meekly whispered.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“I mean we found this thing, noticed it was displaying some irregular behavior for a seedling of its type. And we decided to monitor it. I didn’t know it was going to cough up smoke at us!”
Logan stamped his foot. Frustrated by the lack of caring on your part. Pacing in a small circle next to you with the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“Okay! We just have to stay here for the next 48 hours. Keep us under supervision just in case we feel any side effects. We go about our days like normal, just can’t leave the Academy,” you rubbed your hand up and down your arm. Logan irritably took a seat, head down with his hands folded over his lap. You grabbed the pod and placed it in a holding chamber all of its own. Walking over and kneeling down in front of Logan.
“I’m sorry. If I had known—“ you reached your hand out to rest it on Logan’s leg.
“You don’t have to be sorry. We can forget all about it at the party tonight. Celebrating whatever the hell Charles was on about,” Logan grinned at you.
You smiled, “I’ll celebrate anything if it means free drinks.”
Logan left the greenhouse while you finished up cleaning and double checking everything. A sudden hot flash washed over your body. Pulling a sweat from every inch of you. You fanned your hand in front of your face, your clothes feeling oddly tight suddenly. Maybe someone turned the heat up in the greenhouse. You walked over to check the thermostat. Nothing about the number had changed. As long as it was reading right you were comfortable leaving it be.
Walking up to your room. Heat engulfed you, a minor ache on your body now approaching. Choosing to ignore the problem entirely. Changing into something more comfortable for the evening ahead. Looking at yourself in the mirror when a sudden, promiscuous image flashed in your mind.
Logan.
Behind you. Both of you completely nude as he pounded into you. Watching yourself take him in the mirror. His hands splayed out on your chest, lips on your neck.
Your face flushed with your arousal. Unable to fight the feeling forming deep down inside you. Aching at your core. Leaning over your bed as you writhed.
The feeling of his hands grabbing your hips. Buried completely inside you. Your back arching to meet his thrusts. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.
You gasped at the thought. Unsure of what was happening to you. Uncontrollably desire was taking over your body. Your hand found your aching core in an attempt to cool yourself down. Scrunching up your face at the feeling. It felt good, but not right. It was not what you needed. You needed him.
Your face was completely flushed with thoughts of Logan. Trying your hardest to make it less noticeable before going downstairs.
“Just stop,” you told yourself.
Heading down to the common area where all your fellow teachers had gathered. An adults only party, all the students were off away. You smiled as you greeted your fellow mutants. Getting stopped by Hank. His warm smile and soft eyes pulling your attention to him.
“Hi, Hank,” you smiled as you walked over to him.
“Hello, beautiful,” Hank grinned, fangs decorating his bright white smile. You thought about how his teeth would feel against your neck. Blushing at the idea of the large monster on top of you. Your thoughts suddenly morphing to fit Logan into your fantasy. Fangs nipping at your skin as strong hands held yours above your head. Panting as he thrusted into you. Sweat dripping down his forehead.
“Everything going good with that mysterious plant of yours?” Hank questioned, breaking your fantasy.
“Uh— Yeah, kinda. It bloomed today but some purple pollen came out it. Not sure if that’ll have any effect on me,” you droned off as you saw Logan enter the room. Completely fixated on him now. Seeing his bulging muscles revealed by his tank top. His broad shoulders and strong brow bone indicating he was some form of frustrated. His eyes finally caught yours. Awkwardly you turned back to focus on Hank as you continued on about the beauty of the mysterious flower. Unable to keep Logan in your peripheral. Excusing yourself from the conversation. Walking into a corner so you could scan the entire room. Unable to spot Logan anywhere.
Muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Almost calming the burn trickling down your nervous system. Nose finding its place in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Your hands meeting those around you, feeling the veins popping out. Smell of musk and cologne overwhelming your senses.
A silent feeling that he understood exactly what you were going through.
“Smells so good,” his gruff, low voice rang in your ear. Your head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes straining to look at him. Black eyes stared at you. Pulling you flush against him, his semi-hard cock pressed into you. Chills ran up you. Rolling your hips to grind against him. A low groan, almost a growl, vibrated against your ear.
Hands inched down closer to the place you ached most. Fingers grazing the sweet spot causing you to arch backwards slightly. Circling your mound as his eyes scanned the room.
“Everyone is in here,” you whispered, a soft moan on your tone.
“I know,” he grumbled, kissing below your ear.
Both of you silently enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together for a moment. How perfectly your body melted to his front. How the smell of him sent goosebumps down your body. The sound of his breathing in your ear pooling inside you.
“Saw you over there with furrball. He not tickling your fancy tonight?” Logan’s fingers dug into your skin, a hint of jealousy on his tone.
“No,” you simply said.
“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Logan groaned into your ear, “I could smell you from my fucking room. Need to rip these clothes off and get inside you right now.”
You choked on air. Realizing Logan was having the same feelings you were. Unsatisfiable desire.
“Didn’t matter how fucking good my hand felt, wasn’t right. It wasn’t you,” he purred. His fingers danced along the line of your pants, daring to dip under your clothes. Feeling your pantyline against his fingers, the softness of the lace continuing his desire. Your hand met his, intertwining fingers with him. Looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Lust blown eyes stared into yours. He plotted an escape route to make sure none of your coworkers watched you slip away together. Grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him.
His touch tingled against your skin. Your sensitive body being thrown into overdrive as you headed down the hallway together. Pulling you into a stairwell and turning to face you. His entire face was red, sweat beaming down his brow. You blushed. Eyes locked together, blown pupils matching each other.
“Dunno if I can wait much longer,” Logan growled as he palmed at himself through his jeans. You fell to your knees instinctively. Tugging at his belt, pulling a deep sigh from him. Releasing his fully erect cock from its confides. It sprung up, tip swollen and leaking. A thick vein wrapped around the underside. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, your mouth salivating at the sight of him. Doed eyes stared up at him, your hand grasping around his member. Lips pressing against the tip in a kiss. Logan moaned at your touch. His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided you down on him. Choking around his girth.
“That’s it,” Logan praised as he lead you up and down on his cock. Hollowing out your cheeks to take him all the way. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, fighting off your urge to gag. Feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing it would not take long for you to get him there.
Logan’s eyes squinted shut as he finished in your mouth. A grunt as he held you in place. “It’s not enough,” he moaned. Eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at you. Reaching a hand down to help you up, “I need to be inside you.”
His words melted into your core. Igniting a primal feeling in you. You wrapped your hand around Logan’s leading him up the stairs.
“My room’s closer,” you answered the question you knew he was silently asking himself. A grin painted his face as he watched your ass bounce going up the stairs.
Hurriedly typing your code to access your room. Logan’s fingers rubbed circles on your core through your clothes. You arched your back into him, feeling his still completely erect dick. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, doll,” Logan purred in your ear pulling at the button on your pants. You bit your lip finally getting the door open. Logan practically shoved you inside.
Attaching his lips to yours immediately, hands cupping both sides of your face. His tongue penetrating your mouth as your teeth clinked together. You hooked your fingers under his tank top, pulling it over his head. His hairy, muscular chest was completely drenched in sweat. His lips attached onto your neck, tongue coming out to lick a stripe up your sensitive skin. “What’s going on with us?” Logan asked against your skin.
“I’dunno,” you moaned when his teeth grazed a spot you liked, “I just want you.” He smiled at your response.
Logan pushed you onto your back on the bed. Ripping your pants and panties off you. A gasp fell from you. “You’ve got plenty more,” he growled as he kneeled at the side of your bed. Pulling you so that he was directly in front of your core. Soaking the blanket underneath you as arousal took over every sense you had. Logan chuckled as he lapped at your core, “Tastes so good.” You arched your back off the bed at the sudden contact. Pushing yourself closer into his mouth. Furrowing your brows because — GOD — he felt good, but it just was not enough to cool the fire inside you. Grinding yourself against his face trying your damndest to reach your high. Logan latched onto you like an animal devouring his last meal. Fingers digging into your thighs, bruising the soft skin there. Hooded eyes stared up at your face admiring how you scrunched up your nose and hung your mouth open. The soft moans and squeaks pouring from your mouth like music to his ears. He rolled his hips into the side of the mattress, desperate to fuck you. But more desperate to get you off first.
Your nails dug into the soft blanket below you. Riding his tongue through your orgasm. Body jolting and legs shaking. His name a scream on your lips. Logan pulled away, his face soaked in your juices. Dropping his pants to the floor. He stroked himself as he stared at your entrance. Your body still basking in the afterglow of orgasm. Logan pounced on top of you. Gently removing your top, lips finding their place on your exposed breasts. Biting through the fabric of your bra to play with your nipples. Licking and sucking the thin material. His hand pinched at the opposite one. Lips dancing up your neck, biting at your jaw.
Rolling his exposed cock into your soaked entrance. The first bit of relief you had felt all day. A shaky moan escaping you. Logan smirked above you, leaning his head back feeling how your body begged for him. Sliding his member through your slit, collecting all your wetness on him. “My pretty girl,” he praised, “I’m gonna fill you up to the goddamn hilt.”
Easing his way into you. Your walls practically pulling him in. Both of you moaned in harmony, throwing your heads back. “That’s more like it,” he cooed. Easy himself back before slamming back in. Setting himself at a brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking together filled the room. He panted above you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
You leaned forward to catch him in a kiss, Logan’s body slouching so that your front were pressed firmly together. Curving his arms under you, holding you tight as he fucked into you. A huff of breath falling from him with each snap of hips. He held you close, lips pressed against your neck. An occasional kiss being planted there. “You take cock so well. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he growled against your skin.
You clawed at his back. Desperate to hold him closer. Scratching down his body, pulling a moan from him. His pace was growing sloppy as he approached his own high. Your pussy still sensitive from your own. Walls clenching when he’d hit deep inside you. “Gonna be so full of me aren’t you? Little cum slut,” Logan grunted with each of his thrusts.
Logan attached his lips back to yours desperately panting and moaning as he felt himself about to finish. Sheathing himself fully inside you as he shot his seed. The feeling of him soothed the burn you had been feeling. Relieved by how perfectly he filled you up. You felt him grin against your skin, slumping all his body weight into you momentarily.
“Could stay like this all night,” he whispered in your ear. You petted his back, kissing him on the cheek.
“Yeah?”
“That way I can already be inside you when I feel like I gotta soothe the feeling again,” Logan playfully bit at your cheek.
~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic has been a long time coming so I hope it was a great read! I plan on writing quite a lot for the month of October, so if you have any requests send them my way! My next Logan fic is gonna be a Werewolf!AU //
{tags}
@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @figsnpassionfruits ~ @gretavankleep37 ~ @shinysam29 ~ @sunnyfranc ~ @savy-luvs-dilfs ~ @ayamenimthiriel ~ @megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @father-of-2cats ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~
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tinycoffeeroom · 4 months
Text
more than enough | lando norris
face claim: none ♡
request: here !
requested: Hi lovely, I loved just friends!! Since reading, all I’ve been able to thinking about is bestfriend/roomate Lando. Maybe you’re not able to join him for race weekend and he hasn’t heard from you, like at all. When he returns, he thinks you’re not home until he hears the sobs and realises something is really wrong. Maybe you’ve broken up with your boyfriend and Lando is standing on the other side of your locked bedroom door, absolutely in love with you and hurting because you’re hurting 🫠
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
📍 Miami
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liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 1,387,928 others
landonorris WE FUCKING DID IT!!!!! P1 in Miami!!!!! you bitches can't call me lando nowins anymore!!!
See 997,729 other comments
fan you can tell lando runs his own social media... ↳ mclaren it is our biggest burden
oscarpiastri well done mate! well deserved! ♥️ landonorris ↳ landonorris you next osc!!!
maxverstappen1 i said i'd have to collect my wins before you start coming for them, congrats winner! ♥️ landonorris
mclaren our papaya boy, you will always be loved (heart) ♥️ landonorris
fan WHERE IS Y/N?????? ↳ fan lando said in an interview that she couldn't come this week!!!! i'm sure she texted / called him
fan i know y/ns screaming and crying at the fact she couldn't be there this week
fan no lando / y/n hugging photo :((((( i miss my best friends
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liked by fan, fan and 19,036 others
f1gossip Lando Norris' roommate and best friend Y/N L/N was caught in a heated argument with her recently debuted beau outside a restaurant in Monaco. The person who sent the photo in was too far away to hear the argument, but said Y/N seemed despondent to the situation, watching her boyfriend walk away before paying the bill and leaving quietly. Soon after, waiter's came to each outside table and told them Y/N sent her apologies for the commotion.
fan y/n :(((( was he the reason she couldn't go to Miami????
fan i'm gonna dox him ↳ fan i mean... i'm not gonna stop you
fan i have a knife.
fan i hope he's an ex boyfriend now wtf???
fan do you guys remember the pics of her and lando talking at padel and her bf was shooting DAGGERS at lando??? yeah somethings going on there ↳ fan we hate insecure men
fan lando i know u have money and connections i need this man to disappear
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It wasn’t unusual for you to go radio silent after a race you weren’t able to attend, especially one on the other side of the world. Lando was used to a simple “congrats on P4!<3333” or wherever he had placed that time, and then you would be off to the land of dreams as he went about his day, shuffling between meetings and the media paddock. 
Today was different however. Lando had actually won. He’d won his first ever race and his best friend and roommate was virtually nowhere to be seen. He couldn’t help but feel a little angry at you, you knew how much P1 meant to him, the hours he had spent moping around the little apartment the two of you shared after a bad race and the rants he would go on when he placed P2 but was inches from that ever so elusive win, slipping just through his fingertips. 
He fired off one last text to you before sliding the phone back into the waistband of his fireproofs so he had his hands free to accept celebratory fist bumps and handshakes from every garage along the paddock. 
The lack of communication from you slowly slipped his mind after he had interview after interview, the kind and excited words of the journalists filling him with pride as they recall just how far ahead of Max he had been. Sure, his mood soured everytime someone mentioned that he got lucky with the safety car but his mother always told him that luck was something to utilise, not something to rely on. 
When he was finally free of the media’s hands, he checked his phone again. No messages from you which made him sigh, but one from Max. Opening their text thread, he’d dropped Lando a location pin for a well known bar in Miami along with the sentence “9pm, be there or be square, race winner”. 
To be quite honest, Lando doesn’t remember much of the party. Hell, he doesn’t even remember getting there, Zak having plied him with glass after glass of champagne during their debrief. He’s pretty sure Oscar had been the one to zip his fly up when they met outside their hotel rooms before the party, hands moving up to recentre his shirt so only a slightly scandalous amount of chest showed. 
Sitting on the private jet, again courtesy of Max, he thumbed through the last text thread between the two of you. You’d seemed fine, mentioning that you were going out for a meal with your boyfriend before the race started, and then… nothing. Complete and total radio silence. 
Maybe you were still with your boyfriend, too wrapped up in that jackass to notice the 17 messages Lando had left you since last night. 
God, he hated that guy. Ever since the day you had introduced him to Lando, he’d had a bad feeling. The guy was too touchy, arm wrapped securely and possessively around your waist like Lando was some kind of threat. 
And maybe he was. 
If he’d just manned up and told you the truth, that he’d loved you since the moment the two of you met one sunny day when he was still an F2 driver and you were the sister of one of his rivals, then maybe it would be his arm draped around you. 
Instead he had smiled, rolled over and showed his stomach like a runt at the bottom of the food chain, and watched from afar as the guy whisked you away under a mottled sunset. 
He felt a nudge at his side, eyes meeting Max’s curious ones. “Still no reply?”
He sighed, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone once again. “Maybe she’s busy…”
The excuse sounds weak even to his own ears, and when Max simply hums unbelievingly, he sighs again, mind torn in half at the elation of his win and the sadness of your ignoration. 
Sliding the key into the door, he listened ahead for any sign of life. The sound of dishes clinking in the sink, or your playlist of noughties hits that he always pretended to hate but would secretly sing along to when you weren’t looking. 
The silence that blankets him is unnerving. Too reminiscent of when he’d moved here alone and had all but begged you to join him, promising a rent free and easy going life. 
Checking the kitchen, he sees it’s exactly as he left it last week. The living room is barely lived in, the odd throw misplaced from the back of the sofa. His game room door is still shut, as is both his and your bedrooms. 
As he walks through to drop his suitcase off in his room, dreading the amount of washing that will fall out of it when he gets the energy to open, he hears a noise. From your bedroom, specifically. 
Checking his watch, he sees its 2 in the afternoon. Normally, you would be up and out by now, dragging Lando to whatever new fad you had seen on tiktok, or to the padel courts where he would inevitably lose to you. 
Leaning so his ear presses against the door, he can make out the shuffling of sheets. Maybe you had decided to do some laundry whilst you waited for him to get back. But then, the sound of sniffling joins. 
He freezes on the spot, ear still pressed haphazardly to the wooden door. The sniffles get louder and louder, soon joined behind an unmistakable sob. He can feel his heart drop to the floor, his stomach joining it on its tumultuous way down. 
You were crying. And he had no idea why. 
Pulling away from the door, his hand hovers the knob. Should he knock first? Should he just leave you to it? Normally, when you were sad, you would sneak into whichever room he was in, either reaching a hand out to lay against his back or sitting close enough so your thighs touch. He knew you needed to feel some part of him in order to ground yourself, and he always obliged. Oftentimes, the two of you would end up cuddled on the couch, some soppy chick flick on the tv as you gave into the warmth surrounding you, eyes closing as you rested your head against his shoulder. Despite how much it hurt to see you sad, he couldn’t deny these quiet moments were his favourite part of any day. 
Another sob breaks out, the sound so cruel and visceral, it was as if it had been yanked from your very soul. He forgoes knocking, hand twisting the knob harshly. He tries to push it open, only to be met by a force pushing back against him. 
You’d locked the door. 
In the 4 years of living together, neither of you had ever once locked your bedroom doors, knowing the other would knock before entering but still feeling comfortable enough to forgo privacy so the rooms could be open to the other whenever. 
“Y/N?” He calls out hesitantly, as one would approach an injured bird. 
The sobs become muffled, more shuffling of sheets before you call back to him, voice weak and torn along the edges. “Lando?”
He normally loved when you said his name, but the whine that accompanies it today leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He knows he should ask what’s wrong but he doesn’t know where to begin. He’s never not known why you’re sad, the two of you an open book shared between friends. 
He starts the only way he knows how. “Did you watch the race?”
More shuffling of sheets and when you respond, your voice is closer. “I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t get a chance to.” A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “How did you do?”
He wants to be angry. He really does. The one time you don't watch a race and he only goes and bloody wins it. “I won.”
“What?” Your voice wobbles, wondering if you were imagining what he had just said. 
“I won, Y/N. My first P1. 7 seconds ahead of Max.”
He waits for your response, probably some form of congratulations spoken through wood given your current mood. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to unlock and slam open the door, the both of you wincing as it bangs against the wall. “Say that again.”
He takes you in for a moment. Bloodshot eyes rimmed with violet, tears still making their way down flushed cheeks. You’re wrapped in your duvet, only your head visible as the duvet covers what is probably bedhead and your favourite set of pyjamas - flannel trousers and a t-shirt of Lando’s you had stolen at some point. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he smiles warily at you. “I won.”
Throwing yourself at him, he takes a moment to steady the two of you, arms wrapping around the mass of duvets surrounding you. He can feel you crying again, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Lan. I should have watched, I mean you won and I wasn’t even there to watch. I’m sorry, please forgive me.” You choke through the words, fingers digging roughly into Lando’s back. 
He winces at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the shirt, squeezing you even closer to him. “Don’t be sorry. Something obviously happened.” He uses the mound of duvet to pull you away, eyes flickering over your face. You look heartbroken in more ways than one. “What happened, sweet girl?”
Your lips quiver at the nickname, a hand poking through the duvet to reveal your phone. After 3 tries of using face ID, you huff, angrily putting in your passcode before turning the screen to Lando. 
He scans the screen. It’s an instagram post by some F1 gossip page. He recognised the user as one who often tried to paint him as some womaniser, taking any regular interaction with a woman as a sign he was sleeping with them. 
This post, however, is different. He sees you first, mouth in a tense line as you stare blankly at your boyfriend. Then he sees the caption. 
The anger returns, festering and dark, this time directed to your dickhead of a boyfriend. “What did he do?”
You sigh, locking the screen and pulling your hand back into the duvet cocoon. “I said I wanted to go home because your race was about to start. He got angry and accused me of being in love with you. I pointed out that I was literally on a date with him. He called me every name under the sun, told me we were over and then stormed off. I’m sorry, Lan, this isn’t good publicity for you.”
He scoffed, eyebrows raising skyward. “I dont give a fuck about the publicity, I care about you. How dare he speak to you like that?” He can tell the angers bleeding into his tone but he’s about 2 seconds away from finding out where that prick lives and beating him over the head with a padel racket. “Are you ok? Do you want to put on a chick flick? Order a takeaway? Go to a rage room and plaster his face across every breakable thing?” Moving closer, he rests his hand against your jaw, nudging it between your tear stained skin and the soft duvet. “Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
Sighing, you nuzzle against his hand. “None of that, Lan. I just want to cry and forget what happened last night.”
Swallowing his pride, he nods. “Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him we’re not in love with each other. Just best friends.” The ending comes out a little bitterly, but he hopes you’re too distracted to notice. 
You smile up at him affectionately. The simple curve is enough to make his heart flutter from where it had picked itself off the floor and wormed its way back into his chest. 
Reaching up to lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his, you sandwich it between the warmth he so craved. “I just want to be with you. You make everything better.”
He reflects your smile, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone. You wanted him, just him, and for now that was more than enough. 
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spidernuggets · 3 months
Note
imagine red hood and the reader being friends. They helped patch him up one day and now he won't leave then alone.
Then jason todd meets reader somewhere and they bump into each other quite often.
Now imagine reader gushing to hood about how cute this guy is and how bad they want to kiss him/fuck him/whatever.
I know hood's face would be matching his helmet and he resolved to ask them out the next time they met in his civilian form.
Jason Todd x Reader
Pt. 2
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"Are you for fucking real?" You grumbled, half asleep yet a bat in your hands, ready to swing at the predator who knocked all the trinkets of your living roon window sill.
Bright white eyes shone back at you, the giant figure just standing there, though his hand was clutching his side.
"Man, I told you not to come back here," you scoffed, throwing the bat to the ground and getting your first aid.
"I got sliced." The modulated voice replied nonchalantly, heading for your couch.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I see it." I muttered, kneeling in front of him, inspecting the wound. "It's not that bad, Red. Should have you fixed up in a couple of minutes.."
"There we are," you sighed, finishing the bandages, admiring your handiwork. "Do you not know how to do this shit yourself or..." You asked, packing away the supplies.
"I like the way you do it." He muttered, patting the bandages, a dumb smile across his face, behind his helmet.
"You staying the night, or do you have to head out again?"
"Go out."
"Don't get yourself hurt again. Okay?" You said, your expression softening as you stood back in front of Red Hood, cradling his helmet in your hands.
He just grunted, getting up and placing his hand on your head in silent assurance that he'll be fine.
The next afternoon, walking around the city as you stumbled across a quaint, charming book shop cafe that you haven't noticed before.
The atmosphere was comfortable when you entered as you walked around the narrow aisle of bookshelves. When you spotted a book that you've been meaning to read for a while at the top shelf, you reached up to grab it, when another hand beat you to it.
You turned to scowl at the person who took your book when you were obviously there first, when you were met eye to eye with a gorgeous stranger. His face was sharp, with jagged scars decorating his face. His nose was big and slightly crooked. His lips were chapped. His eyes were a beautiful mix of blue and green.
Your brain short-circuited, forgetting that you were going to scold the man for taking the book, but isntead, you stood there, looking like a fool as you stared at the man.
But when you realised how creepy you looked, your fight or flight responded with flight, saying absolutely nothing as you tried to walk away, mentally slapping yourself for the awkward interaction.
"You like Austen?" The gruff voice said. A familiar voice, but you couldn't put your finger on it. You turned back to the stranger.
"Uhm.. I guess.. I'm not much of a book person, but I've wanted to read 'Emma' for a while now," you sheepishly said.
He nodded. "It's good." He said, handing you the book.
You stared at it. "Are you not gonna.."
"I've read it a bunch of times." He said, taking your wrist and putting the book in your hand. "You take it."
"Oh.. thanks.." You muttered.
"Jason." He said, extending out his hand as you shook it back, giving your name in return. Jason held back from an accidental slip of an 'I know.'
"Sorry for taking it off, you," he said. "I was just a little too eager to see the book. Can I get you some coffee while we're still here?"
Your eyes widened. "Oh! You don't have to real-"
He took your wrist, taking you to the coffee shop. Honestly, you were beginning to think this guy was a serial killer from how eager he was. But it was free coffee that you weren't willing to turn down.
"I met this guy today at a book and cafe shop I ran into," you said as you focused on wrapping bandages around Red Hood's bicep. This information made his ears perk up, remembering the little meet-up the two of you had.
"Oh yeah? Gonna replace me?" He said.
You scoffed. "No. But he was pretty hot," you said nonchalantly. "He had scars all over his face. And a great nose..." You muttered as Red Hood tilted his head.
"His nose?"
You looked up at him, a suggestive glimmer in your eyes. Red Hood shifted on your couch, suddenly feeling hot and uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat. "Is the nose the first thing you notice in a guy?"
"Not usually. His was just very distinct. I might go again tomorrow to see if he'd show up again."
And he did. He was already there the second you stepped in. And once he saw you, he was already walking up to you, seemingly determined to get to know you.
"Oh my god, Red!" You squealed that night. "He's actually so fine, you don't understand!"
Usually, Red Hood stops by because, according to him, he 'likes the way you patch him up'. But he just dropped by, unharmed because he felt like it. Also, he knew you'd talk about this Jason guy and wanted to hear what you think of him.
"His thighs- ugh!! I need my head in between them now!"
"My thighs not enough for you, sweetheart?" He muttered.
You rolled your eyes. "If I knew what you looked like, then maybe. Anyway, don't interrupt me. His hands?? I need to suck on his fingers, oh my god."
Red Hood shifted in his seat, his pants feeling tighter than usual.
But you continued. "His lips were pretty chapped. Don't ask me why I was looking at his lips, but man! I actually need him to shove his tongue down my throat. I need him to put me in a chokehold in between his biceps, I need to suck on his pecs. I can go on about the absolute VILE thoughts of what I'd let him do to me-"
Red Hood stood up. "And I don't wanna be here to hear them." He said, almost stuttering. "I'll come back tomorrow night."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, I'd expect it."
When Jason got back to his safe house, running an extremely cold shower while his hand was tight around his cock, he tried getting those filthy images that you described out of his mind.
Jason was a slow pace man, so as much as he was on the verge of tossing his helmet off, giving you the fantasy of stuffing your mouth with his tongue, he wanted to do the least and ask you on a date first.
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SORRY ANON I wasn't sure how to conjure up the whole date thing. I might make a part 2 if interested!!
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vroomvro0mferrari · 5 months
Text
LN4 | Panic at the Disco
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Part 2
Masterlist
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You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.
You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up. 
“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.
You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.
“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose. 
“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.
“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.
“Yes”
“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.
“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”
“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.
“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.
“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.
Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”
“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you. 
“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”
“Lando, just send Max, please.”
“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.
You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.
“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.
Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car. 
“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.
You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.
He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.
He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.
You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.
You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”
Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.
You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”
“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”
You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.
“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”
“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.
He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.
– – – – –
Part 2
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