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sylveon-and-velveon · 2 months

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How to Butcher a Twink

A oneshot I originally put on both my Wattpad and AO3 account in 2023, but I realised I never put it here on my Tumblr somehow-

C/TW: Sexual themes {18+ only}, themes of implying abuse, death, murder, themes of implying murder, threats of murder, belt strapped around John's mouth {non-sexual}

Maison Talo x John Doe x Tate Frost

Scampering away from the person he once called his lover, John continued to run down the dark streets; not even bothering to scream for help thanks to the leather belt tightly strapped around his mouth. He tried to gnaw at the belt as he ran away from the fucked up person, but it was no use. Even with the inhuman amount of teeth he had, John couldn't even scratch enough of the leather off to break it.

He felt like crying so badly, but couldn't since his body made it impossible for him to even produce tears. He'd melt otherwise - a painful way to die. With his eyes blurry and spuratic, it was hard to make out where he fully was. It didn't help in the slightest with the fact it was night: the only sources of outside light being that from the streetlamps and the sun's own reflecting off the moon.

John's body froze up as he heard them scream bloody murder for him to come back to them. Twisting his head 'round to come face to face with the psychotic ex-lover of his, storming closer to him with their fist slowly rising in the air. His knees quickly weakened, pupils shrinking even more than they possibly could've before, as he noticed the blade of their knife in position to strike his face. John was frozen in place, begging through his eyes for them to not disfigure his face.

Covering his face with his arms, he hoped that they would be able to cover most of the brute force. A muffled, yet somehow deafening, cry for help screeched from him, hoping for at least someone to come save him. Waiting for the inevitable, John kept his eyes consciously shut, not daring to open them until it was over. Yet, instead, he heard a clang of metal smash against the pavement. Opening his eyes to a small, yet see-able, squint, John looked to see what was going on. They'd paused mid-swing, ready to plunge, yet for some reason had stopped.

Lowering his arms, he watched in shock as they were picked up into the air like a ragdoll and tossed to the side. Where, finally, John could see why they'd stopped. The back of their head had been split open, pieces of brain spilling out as they were lobbed to the side without a care in the world. John's eyes locked onto whoever had saved him; two men towered over his short figure. One glared down at him, while the other was looking at his bloodied hand in disgust.

"Ugh, give me your apron Frost," The disgusted man demanded, grabbing the apron that Frost had untied around his waist. "Humans have so much blood in them, it disgusts me."

"And your flesh tentacles are okay?" Frost raised an eyebrow as he glared at the fashionable man, watching as he finished cleaning up his blood-soaked fingers before handing back the man's apron. He glared back at Frost, his calm, wide smile unnerving John a bit.

"Well, hello there- ma'am? Sir? Which are you?" The taller man asked John, his smile no longer unnerving to the smaller male. Frost smacked him across the head. "Ow! What the fuck?!"

"There's a belt covering Sha's mouth," Frost informed the other man, walking over to John to get a closer look at his face. His fingers caressed across John's face, sending a chill down his spine. The man found the edges of the belt, digging his fingers underneath the leather to pull at it slightly. Using the butcher's knife in his other hand, Frost took his time to cut through the belt the psycho had wrapped around the Regular's mouth. "There ya go. Now can you tell us?"

"I'm a sir! Oh, my name's-" The two taller men looked at one another as John began to speak an inhuman language to them. With what sounded like a demonic scream that could rival a banshee's. "-but you can just call me John Doe."

"Ah, that helps a lot," Frost nodded his head, a charming smile appearing on his face. His hand still caressing the smaller's face, a faint tint of blush warming on John's cheeks. "The name's Tate; Tate Frost. And that one over there is Maison Talo."

"Hello down there," Maison chuckled as he bent down to be properly face to face with John, patting the sentient black hair that began to curl around the taller's fingers. "How interesting... you're not particularly human yourself, are you?"

"Not really," He shrugged a little, beginning to smile at the two that had saved him. "I'm just a Regular Guy!"

Maison removed his hand from John's hair, taking note of the species he was with much interest, while Tate looked down to the corpse they had both just murdered mere minutes ago. Picking the corpse up by their neck, he brought it over to the two that were still having a small conversation.

"So, why were you getting chased by them; don't mind me asking," He asked, his strong grip almost crushing their neck entirely. "If it's too sensitive, you don't need to say."

"They were chasing me, in all honesty," John explained, trying his hardest to figure out why they'd even changed in the first place. "It was all so sudden. One minute we were in love, the next they were trying to cut off my head!"

Hearing those words, Tate's grip tightened more, crushing the spine inside of their neck like it were flimsy wood. His purple eyes locking onto John as he tossed their corpse to the side one last time. Before either of them could do anything, John twitched from, seemingly, nothing. Craning his neck up to the sky, a second passed before it happened again; this time the two men noticing the reason why. It was beginning to snow.

"Regular's don't like water," Maison informed the other, looking over to the creature himself that was slowly becoming distressed. "Let's get you inside before the snow gets any worse. Okay?"

With a small nod in return, the Realtor took his hand, bringing him inside the small store the two men were originally in before the sudden cry for help had been called. Tate was the one to close the glass doors, making sure it was locked tightly before turning around to face the other two, much skinnier, men. Walking over to them, his eyes glanced around the semi-small building. Though he knew nobody else but them three were within its walls, he still wanted to make sure that he was correct. To which he was.

"Now Sha," He began speaking to the short man, coming to a halt when there was barely any space between the two. Leaning down a bit, Tate smiled towards the other, noticing John's face barely flush a shade of pink. "We've saved your life, you've got a debt towards us now. Understand that?"

"A little bit," John hummed out, glancing to Maison before looking back at Tate himself. His back now straight, his eyes looking down to keep contact with the shorter male. "But... what kind of debt am I in? What do I need to do?"

The two men looked at one another; Maison's calm grin now laced with something else, sending chills down John's spine as he noticed the same thing with Tate. Maison's eyes averted back to John, his sickly sweet smile even more on show for the Regular to witness. He flinched a little, feeling his wrist be grabbed by Tate. Though, somehow, it was gentle, despite the fact he had just crushed a neck not long ago. Specks of blood splattered onto his scarred arms, now finally noticing his jacket was nowhere to be seen.

"Ah, sorry about that Sha~" Tate's voice soothed John, calming the tense and fear he had in his veins. Removing his hand from the Regular's wrist, he wiped the remaining blood onto his apron. More of the thick liquid just staining it. "I'll clean that up for you if you'd like~?"

Getting a small nod in return, Tate rose John's wrist to his mouth. His slightly scarred lips curled into a smile as he placed a gentle kiss on the back of John's hand. That pink shade of blush now becoming more prominent on his cheeks; his eyes staying locked onto the butcher's purple ones that held a form of hunger John couldn't fully understand. Tate's tongue slithered across his thin wrist, slowly removing the blood and replacing it with a layer of fresh saliva. John's eyes averted from Tate's eyes, now locking onto his tongue that licked away his ex-lover's blood. The Regular was too frozen in place to even react to the feeling of two hands that carefully rested on his shoulders; one hand massaging the shoulder it stayed on.

"Fuck, you're so cute Sha~" The butcher chuckled, licking away the last bit of blood. Though he didn't let go of, or even lower, John's hand, instead keeping it near his lips. The blush on John's face not daring to fade away, but actually deepen in colour to blood red itself. "We could just eat. You. Up."

John could only whimper in response, feeling teeth graze his neck as he continued to stare at Tate. This was one of those times that John wished he could close his mouth like a normal human, but alas he couldn't. Instead having to deal with his teeth on show no matter what. Whimpers continued to slip past his lips with ease, feeling Maison's lips venture his neck. Finally letting go of his hand, Tate continued to smile at John, noticing the deep blush that had permanently settled on the Regular's cheeks.

"How'd you get the scars on your arms?" He frowned, eyeing John's arms. Maison stopped what he was doing, glancing down to check the smaller man's arms before looking back up at him. Lips not leaving his neck. "I hope it wasn't them."

"No, it wasn't them," John shook their head, using his free hand to cover his blushing face as best he could. Blushing even more at the sound of Maison chuckling at his action. "I do it to myself- and I'm not sad!"

"Oh~? A person of painful pleasure?" Tate chuckled alongside the Realtor, leaning down so his and John's faces were almost touching. Removing his hand from his face, the butcher eyed the Regular's lips. Not smiling, just having his lips parted, seeing how close the two of them were to him now. "I like that~"

John squeaked out, feeling Maison nip at his neck, slipping out a moan as he began to create more hickies. John's moan was cut short by Tate's lips landing on his own, kissing him deeply instantaneously. He felt Maison leave his neck alone, though Tate didn't stop their make out session; his tongue suffocating the top of Regular's throat. Something slowly slithered up John's legs, trapping the two together so he couldn't even tiptoe a step. He couldn't look down to check what it was though, with Tate holding onto his jaw. Keeping his head held up.

"Such a cutie pie," Tate laughed, pulling apart from their kiss. He kept ahold of John's jaw, smiling at the Regular who was gasping for breath. His eyes glanced down to see whatever was wrapping itself around his legs, glaring back at Maison in return once noticing. "Really Maison? Your tentacles?"

"I thought that was understandable," He shrugged, keeping the tentacles grip wrapped around the Regular's legs. His fingers caressed John's arms, slowly moving across his torso and stopping at his waist. The tip of the fleshy red tentacle hooked underneath the hem of his trousers, earning a shiver from John. His body tensed up, not fully knowing how to react to this new feeling. He noticed Maison and Tate glance at one another, nodding towards the other before looking back at the Regular inbetween them. "Are you sure you want us to continue?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want us to go any further John?" Maison asked again, making sure he was just as clear like the first time. Understanding what he was implying, John continued to blush, nodding in return to them both. With his smile becoming more caring and loving, Maison's tentacle began to slither further underneath John's trousers, opening the hem of his boxers and earning another shiver from him. His skin finally coming into contact with the flesh-covered tentacle was something he knew was coming, but even then it wasn't what he was expecting. It felt squishy, soft yet also hard, and enticing. It was hard for John to explain. He felt fingers carefully trace the scars he'd happily inflicted upon his arms, a near quiet whistle slipping past one of the men's lips.

"You're doing well, don't worry," Tate assured him, moving a hand of his underneath John's forever changing t-shirt. John held in a hiss, the tentacle now wrapping around his cock; his body stuck inbetween the two men like blood within flesh. "You look so needy Sha. Don't try to hide it. We'd love to see you beg for us~"

The Regular slammed his face into Tate's torso, loud whimpers and quiet moans slipped out of him as the tentacle began to pump his cock. Maison rested his chin on the inhuman man's shoulder, smiling the entire time as he savoured the embarrassed moans that John let out. Sitting on the tiled floor, Maison pulled him down with him, letting the smaller man rest on his lap. His body leaning into the Realtor's own as he continued letting the tentacle play with John's dick. Was John slowly becoming a writhing moaning mess? Yes. Was it because of the uncomfortable situation his dick was in? Also yes.

A gasp escaped his mouth as he felt his trousers be ripped away from his legs, boxers leaving not far behind. With his legs pulled into the air by strong hands, Tate chuckled at the blushing mess of a state John was in.

"Now... I bet you've never done anything like this before. Am I right Sha~?"

John could only nod in response, not knowing how to properly speak with the tentacle teasing his tip. Another tentacle began to slither near him, the tip of it slowly entering his ass. John's back arched, a rogue moan echoing the store as the tentacle slipped inside. The tentacle continued to pump his cock, while his insides felt like they were turning to mush. Maison smiled as his tentacles did their work, knowing that John would be prepped by the time he was done on his side.

"Don't worry Frost," Maison continued to smile, eyeing up at the man. Watching him stare down at John's moaning self; full of lust, a need to pounce and claim the small man. "By the time I'm done with him, he'll be all ready for whateveryou have in store for him."

Tate knelt on his knee, his deep chuckles echoing throughout the store as he lifted the chin of the blushing Regular. His mind was in a haze, vision completely blurred as he tried his hardest to keep his eyes on the butcher right in front of him. It was a challenge though; the tentacles continued to play with his body - around and inside - like a sex doll, all for them two. And only for them.

"Fucking hell Sha, I can't keep waiting like this any longer," Tate growled out, his eyes glaring at the vulnerable man. His prey was sending just the right pheromones to send him over the edge. He bent John's legs down to where his knees touched the sides of his head, another tentacle coming out to wrap around his ankles. Trapping him in place. Maison moved away from John, standing up to walk over to a nearby counter to lean on as if nothing had happened. As the tentacle inside of him slipped back out of him, it left a pool of its cum in its wake, angering the butcher even more. "I deserve to claim you! Take what's mine! Got it?"

Not even waiting for a reply Tate slammed inside of John, his petite figure being wrecked almost immediately by the muscular butcher. When had he even removed his clothes? Was John so much in a haze he hadn't even noticed? At this point he couldn't bother to think of a straight answer, instead giving into the temptations that corrupted the back of his mind. Begging him to just give in to the two men that had saved his life. Wanting nothing more than to be their fuck machine. Even if it was for one night. John let out all the moans he could muster through his already hoarse throat, begging Tate not to stop. To continue going. To go harder {if he pleased}.

"That's what I like to hear!"

Tate laughed as he continued to fuck the twink underneath him {which, compared to the other two men, couldn't be far from a lie}. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he breathed heavily through each pounding. Not giving a single break. Not a single moment to pause. Not a single chance to come back to reality. Tate wouldn't stop; wouldn't slow down. He had savoured enough of John, now he was demanding to claim him. To keep him.

Maison continued to watch everything play out, smiling at the Regular that was loving every second of it. The Realtor knew that, if possible, he'd definitely be hard right now. But alas he couldn't, it was impossible for him. His clothes were his flesh, he didn't have a single reproductive organ on or in him. Which was why he was glad for flesh-coated tentacles, they worked like a charm on John after all. So why shouldn't he be proud of them?

"It appears he's enjoying this quite a bit. Don't you think Frost?" He asked with a wicked smile, walking a bit closer to the two on the tiled floor.

"Fucking understatement," Tate huffed out, slamming deep inside the Regular again. Savouring how tight he was despite the tentacle's prepping; how John had covered his mouth to try and lower the volume of his moans and cries of pleasure. It didn't work: each time Tate fucked him deep, every nerve in his body felt like it was struck by a lightning of pleasure, preoccupying his hands to gripping the tiled floor instead. Maison knelt down beside John's head, caressing his face with such delicate touches. Keeping his tentacle wrapped around his ankles, the Realtor leaned down to kiss him. Savouring his taste as he kissed back almost instantaneously.

Tate wafted some of his hair out the way, quickening his pace as he felt the urge coming closer to him. He wanted to continue, he dearly wanted to, but his body wasn't allowing him to. He despised it. Maison parted from the kiss, glancing over to Tate as his growls slowly became louder.

"Fuck!"

The butcher yelled as he came. Wiping his mouth with his arm, he looked down to see that John had climaxed as well. Covering nearly his entire face with his hands out of embarrassment, the cum splattered across his red tinted body. Peaking between his fingers, John took a peak at Tate Frost. His body dripping beads of sweat, not even bothering to pull out and instead letting the cum fill the insides of his petite body up. Watching the tentacle unwrap around his ankles, he picked John up. Wrapping his arms around his chest and pulling him up on his lap, all the while his dick was still inside him.

"You did so well Sha," Tate applauded the Regular, caressing his face as he noticed Maison sit closer to the two. "Taking Talo and I so well. You filled up your end of the debt quite well."

"Thank you," John mumbled out, barely able to say a word without his throat becoming dry, hoarse, or even scratchy. He leaned into Tate's chest, smiling the entire time as he allowed his eyes to close. The blush on his face now a rosy red.

"How cute, he wants to cuddle now," Maison awed at him, giving a small kiss to his forehead as John let out a small, near inaudible yawn. Tate could only smile as he watched it happen, knowing that he could never play with this one. Never torture him. Kill him. He couldn't. John was an interesting guy, that lead all three of them to have quite an interesting experience they would never forget...

♡~◇~♡♡~◇~♡♡~◇~♡♡~◇~♡

I may turn this into an actual fanfiction, but due to the fact I've got 2 other fanfic WIPs rn I may write this one in the background to not feel rushed and have it perfectly fleshed out!

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marismoments39 · 1 year

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it goes 5, 6, 7, 8, 1, 2, San, 4, HAI!! learn how to count, Yuru Yuri fans!!!

Guys.

GUYS!

I get it, okay

the yuruyuri album art's really cool

I mean look at this one

wow!!

and then look at sakurako's omg...

omg!!

and then, huh!? they can be put together!?!?

wow let's see that-!!

(someone please tell me that "readmore" thing worked! if it didn't, blame @powwuten yep please and thank you)

Wow that's so cool wh-HUH!?!?!???

What's happened to Himawari's arm!?!!?

that's because.. s1 albums were designed with the gap in mind!

according to me.

well, my speculation.

look, I may or may not've made that the heck up, but look:

here are sakurako and himawari's from san hai

(note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HALF THE POST JUST DELETED ITSELF!! Everything from here on out had to be rewritten.. now you don't get to see my original thoughts...)

Those are sakurako and himawari's! Seamless! you can't even tell where the original images start and end!

but now, let's look at them in real life!:

Here they are! notice anything? other than my horrible camera quality and the scratches on sakurako? (Please do not bring your most prized possessions to school!) It's that they Don't align! because of that little gap the albums have!

So that got me thinking, were the s1 albums designed with that in mind??

let's see!:

so.. probably not...

but there's a chance! the gap masks it a bit!!

anyways, despite all that talk, this post is actually about something else!

yeah, shocker, right!?!

so, let's look at the yryr albums, see how they connect, and see what Moon's problem is with people couting NORMALLY in the san hai ones,

okay, let's start!

season 1's albums are labelled, and were released, in this order:

Akari, Yui, Kyouko, Chinatsu, Sakurako, Himawari, Ayano, Chitose

(we're ignoring mirakurun here!!)

now, this order is so weird compared to the other season! but whatever, let's see what the albums look like!

odd. and here's what they all look like in a row, if you were curious!:

so, looking at the top pic, these obviously weren't supposed to have their art just put side by side like that

but maybe the albums were supposed to be displayed side by side?

this order IS correct, look at the backgrounds, the gorakubu and seitokai are both spelling 「ゆるゆり」 (yuruyuri!) so this IS the correct order...

but tell me.

TELL ME.

WHY is sakurako BEFORE himawari??

Who's choice was that??

anyways, other than sakuhima's these don't look like they were made to be displayed side by side...

as opposed to s2!! let's see-!!:

The order changed to Akari, Chinatsu, Kyouko, Yui, Ayano, Chitose, Sakurako, Himawari. it'll stay the same for san hai, save for yui and kyouko swapping

Everything comes together to make THIS! Beautiful! Tumblr compression doesn't do it justice. well, maybe it does, idk it looks blurry in the editor

like that.

anyways, the s2 one is gorgeous! althought I prefer the individual art from san hai, s2's complete art is amazing!!!

(oh, I just realized: what if a non-yryr-fan is reading this post?? I should clarify: s3 is also known as san hai! s2 is also known as yuruyuri music note music note but the music notes are silent (akari told me herself!!))

okay, so now let's look at the s3 art!:

(also this is what my taskbar looks like rn, idk thought I would share lol)

Here are san hai's! They're so pretty!! other than yui's right arm being a little jank, (not sure if that's a problem with the original art or with fandom, which is where I'm getting these images), this one aligns pretty well!!

that is, until...

Kyouko! Ayano! Your HAIR!! So long...

sometimes I see these displayed side by side and I'm like UGHH

cuz the solution is LITERALLY SO SIMPLE.

LOOK.

instead of counting 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8, just count 5 6 7 8 1 2 3 4!!

Yeah!

Now we have physics!

That simple!!

WoooO!!!

yeah. that's what this entire post was leading up to.

me proving a point to.. some imaginary audience...

anyways, I wanted to make this post because, for one thing, I don't hear people talk about the yryr songs! well, I do, but NOT ENOUGH!!

Some of my favourite songs of all time are in the yuru yuri character songs!!

guys! please! LISTEN TO THEM!!!

anyways, that's all from me, I hope you enjoyed this post!

cyaa~

~Moon

#Yuru Yuri #yuruyuri #Yuru Yuri San Hai #Yuru Yuri Music #Yuru Yuri Albums #Yuru Yuri EPs #Yuru Yuri CDs

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ja-gul-writes · 5 months

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This is the cover for the first book in my series. The little guy is actually just a normal guy, and his name is Leon. He's from our world, and is a tired, overworked and underpaid janitor who's boss was being a total jerk (and should have totally been sued for sexual harassment). Leon's secret kink has always been size difference, and he just wanted to take a giant dick, ya know? Totally reasonable!

Well, then he suddenly gets transported to another world (yes this is an isekai) right in front of a horny, lonely giant named Zayan who thinks humans are just the cutest fucking things on the planet, who also thinks that this human in specific is offering himself to the giant.

I dunno why but Tumblr has made the image look a little blurry to me.

Anyways, making this cover was really hard because I was using vector graphics and it DID NOT scale properly and I had to export every single colour and shadow layer as a separate image so that I could do colour adjusting in a different program. It's the same method for the other covers in this series, but once this series is done I am totally going to find a different art style.

... Does anyone want to hear me rant about book covers? No? Okay, I'll go on then.

Did you know that if you were to use stock photos to make covers, depending on where you get it from you need special permission to use a person's face on the cover of a book that has queer content? Yeah, that's stupid, because the same rules do not apply to straight content. Got a straight couple on your book, no big deal. Got a gay couple, well make sure you have special permission. Oh and sometimes you can't even put anyone's face on the cover of a book at all. And you probably have to pay the licensing fees to get that stock photo. And there's a chance someone else has used it on their book cover too.

It's in some ways a lot easier to have a drawn cover. Because even if you visually used a reference image for a character's pose or proportions, reference images do not need to be licensed. And if you've drawn it all yourself, then you own the art and can do whatever you want with it, whereas if you've paid an artist you might be limited to what you can do with it.

The one thing to look out for too is fonts. If you download fonts from a website, make sure to filter by fonts that are 100% free for full commercial use, meaning you can use the font on the cover of a book you are profiting from and don't need to pay anyone for it. Because some fonts are free ONLY to use for things that won't make you money, or if you do make money you owe the font-maker royalties. And when you're writing books and making very little money, paying anyone a royalty from your earnings could be a deal-breaker. Avoid the pitfalls of this by only ever downloading 100% free fonts. Doesn't matter how nice the licensed fonts are, just don't download them, that way you don't have to remember which ones you have are free and which ones are licensed.

BTW, here's the programs I used to make cover art, write book, and format it. The programs are free and open-sourced.

Inkscape for vector art: https://inkscape.org/

GIMP for colours (it's a photoshop type software): https://www.gimp.org/

LibreOffice for writing (and they also have spreadsheets): https://www.libreoffice.org/

And for formatting, because I publish on amazon I used amazon's Kindle Create which helped format the book.

#lgbtq+#indie author #queer author #romance #gay #giant #size difference #g/t #cover art #book cover #my art

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all-or-nothing-baby · 2 years

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Every night you dream that you talk to a genie, when you wake up you can't remember what you wished for. One morning you wake up with a giant crab pincer replacing your right arm. What do you do?

I call Kafka on his mobile and ask how best to proceed. Only Kafka doesn't answer, the shit. He never answers.

So. I phone in sick to the garage—thanking Mexican baby Jesus and Philip K. Dick for the invention of the speaker phone because, you know, only one hand—and try to get dressed without hacking off any skin with the new serrated limb. But then it hits me: why on earth am I getting dressed? Am I really going to leave the house like this? No, I realise, I most certainly am not.

Instead, I call up my good buddy Cate Blanchett, because she gets the best dope. Cate is filming but I ask her assistant if they can drop me off some Salvia, pronto, which they do; I have to get high af if I'm to figure out what to do next.

Smoking with a pincer is actually easier and cooler than you might imagine.

While off by tits and talking to a chair, I realise that I'm talking to a chair, and it then tells me to get my damn shit together. Thinking really, really hard (honestly it almost hurts in this state), the solution to the issue of WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK DO I DO NOW?! hits me: dreamwalking. Obviously.

Humming like George Harrison playing a sitar, I manage to drift off...

"Nanu-Nanu!" says Mork of Mork & Mindy fame when I open my eyes.

I smile and answer, "Wrong Robin Williams character! Sorry, Dream Robin Williams!" and swim away through the dream to the next realm...

"Oh captain! My captain!"...

"To Live would be an awfully big adventure!"...

"Make your life spectacular!"...

Floating, floating.

Until, finally, "To be my own master..."

"Genie! It's me, Crab Dream boy!"

The genie sighs, deep and audible. How very out of character, you think.

"Oh, yay. You're back. What do you want this time, hmm? Knees of an ant? A snake's chin?" He laughs to himself, a little cruelly.

Something is very wrong.

"I don't remember how I remember but somehow, I know this: you tricked me into asking for the pincer, didn't you?"

"Why, watever do you mean, child?"

A sick feeling washes over me. "You're not him, are you? " but it's not really a question, and the so-called genie, they know it.

And it's at that moment that Thor, the God of Thunder (MCU version) arrives on the bifrost, wielding Stormbreaker which, yeah, is cool af and everything, but in all honesty you'd be lying through your perfectly straight teeth if you said you weren't just a little disappointed it isn't Mjolnir.

He looks at me. Looks at my pincer-hand. Looks at the 'genie'.

Then, like a lightning bolt slicing through the atmosphere, it clicks.

The genie tricked me. The genie is mean. The genie is blue (and yeah, okay, that last bit tracks but still).

"Loki!" both Thor and I exclaim simultaneously.

... and that's where I wake, the sound of maniacal yet loveable laughter already fading like the sound of ocean the crab pincer came from swooshing in an invisible seashell.

A dream within a dream. How very Inception of me.

Blinking furiously, the laptop comes into still blurry view.

"Back in the walking world I see, Parrish."

Ronan.

"Barely. Ego had mirabilem somnia..."

Ro looks at me like I'm a clown.

"You had the strangest of dreams. Really."

Ronan had up dreamed live crabs only last month, filled my dorm room with them. Along with my new motorbike. Being the boyfriend of a dreamer who actually brings back the objects he drabs shit does have its advantages, as well as the opposite.

"Do you think it's possible my dreams feel more real when I sleep next to you?"

Ronan scoffs. "If they are, that has to be the least weird thing about us, Adam."

I smile. "The least weird thing about us, Ronan Lynch, is the combined amount of time you spend on Tumblr while in a magical farm yard, and how many times I can half-consume the Marvel movies while studying for never ending tests and at the same time manage to low-key vibe with local leylines," I tell him.

"Touché."

As Ronan texts Gansey, Blue and Henry, I attempt to get back to my trifecta of unrelated tasks, trying my very best not to fall asleep again.

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valiisthea · 7 months

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Firefighter!Clive anon. Not sure if my previous ask went through because my 'net has been trying my patience all day. But here's some more scattered headcanons!

I imagine Jill as a lawyer in a modern AU. She used to work for a larger, more cut-throat firm but she didn't feel right about it. She eventually started her own small firm, fighting for the little guy.

To kind of make something similar FF16's ending, Clive ends up saving the residents of a burning complex in a low-income neighbourhood even when others had given up looking for survivors. It took a day to find him in the wreckage, on death's door. While he survives (me? Coping over FF16? Naaaaaw), he spends quite some time in a coma and loses the use of one of his arms.

To make things lighter, Torgal is there! According to the vet, he's a Husky-mix, and most of Clive's social media feeds are somewhat-blurry pictures of the good boy.

Modern Verse Anon! || Always Accepting

Hey anon! This is the first ask I've gotten back from you since the one I answered. Looks like Tumblr is on its bullshit again, haha.

Oh wow, why does lawyer!Jill feel like the most natural and correct thing I've ever heard? Esp her having worked for a big name cutthroat firm and then leaving to represent the people who need it most?? I love this so much. 1000% Jill vibes. Like just completely obsessed with it now. Thank you for this beautiful idea I can think about from time to time now.

OHHHH Clive you heroic man! Poor thing sat there dying for so long before he was found. Oh, give him a hug. I want to shamelessly throw my modern Dion in there since he's an ER doctor and have him be the one tending to Clive until he's well enough to be moved from emergency.

We love Torgal. I met he missed Clive while he was in a coma recovering 🥺 Jill took such good care of him, didn't she?

I love your brain, anon. This is all beautiful. Sorry to toss my Dion in there, he just seemed to fit right in fjfhfhdhsd. I love all of this. Thank you for sharing with me!!!

#save #save tag #ffxvi spoilers #ff16 spoilers #listen we are all 'coping' best we can hahahahaha #this is seriously golden though

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taxolotl · 2 years

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until we meet again (if we ever do)

During his time in university, George keeps a photo of Dream in his wallet.

It’s arguably -no, definitely- the worst picture of Dream he has taken. Dream was laughing because the Polaroid was taken in the midst of laughter, the evidence of his mirth clear in the blurry, indecipherable picture. George could barely make out the green-and-red stripes on Dream’s tail in the Polaroid, let alone his face. Dream haunts him every day, regardless, so why does the clarity of it matter? After all, Dream is forever stamped, carved, printed in his mind. George won’t ever forget Dream.

A few months later, when George wakes up, he feels like he’s lost something. When he sits up in his bed he’s missing something, still in the in-between state of consciousness and dreamland. George pushes it to the back of his mind because, well, he’s got morning classes and he can’t afford to be late- until he’s staring down at the sink and thinks, rather belatedly, ‘oh right, Dream.’ Throwing down his towel in his haste, George retrieves his wallet and pulls out his picture of dream- the one that’s more blurry strokes of ink than image -and almost misses his compsci class trying to remember whether Dream’s scales were light green or yellow- curse the bright colour in the image.

He still hasn’t forgotten Dream, George tells himself. He was just- tired. That’s what it was. Fatigue. It’s nothing, just a reminder to not pull so many all-nighters.

Day by day, little details of dream escapes George’s faulty memory- the colour of his eyes, the shape of his fins, how he moves, what he sounds like, how he laughs -until all that is left of Dream is a mop of unkempt blond hair and a wheeze-laugh. He isn’t fooling anyone, and the photo in George’s wallet sees the light of day less and less.

When George collects his things, preparing to move back to Florida, he finds an album’s worth of pictures, ‘idiot’ written on the title line in a messy, childlike scrawl. George brushes dust off the album- Christ, it must’ve been some time since he last opened this -and pries it open. Its spine creaks with years of neglect, and George stares at pages upon pages of a stranger, with green-red fins and a sunlit smile.

It takes him several moments to recognise that this is Dream, his fairytale, and George is ashamed to say that he has forgotten a time when the distinct lack of fish tanks in his apartment made him ache, when yellow and grey used to look like fins fluttering amongst the waves, when somebody, anybody with blond hair that caught fire in the sun would make him turn and stare and hope.

But surely he’s not the only one? Surely Dream has moved on, packed his metaphorical bags and left their little town in coastal Florida, found his family and settled down with them somewhere in the Pacific. Time goes by, and people change, and Dream and George forget each other.

Somewhere down the line, their wait for me has turned into a farewell.

hi zin!! heard it was our blog-anniv so here you go! I originally planned to send this to you sometime later, but- well. anyways, congrats on the dreamfanart rt & likes (wanted to send a nice message for you when you posted the suit art but tumblr decided to die on me :/), and have a nice day! drink some water

#THIS IS SOOOOO AAAURHUHGUHUDFJKGSD lays down and dies #the way u write them ........ so bittersweet twisting my heart strings like no other.holds them gently #moonie beloved TYSMMMM ily i hope u have an even greater day #<3 :((#mer!dnf au #<- apologies for not drawing them lately they will be back soon prommy #moon anon my beloved #submissions!#long post

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no-pucks-given · 3 years

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JACOB MARKSTROM | COVER ME IN SUNSHINE

A/N: I wrote a rough part 1 and part 2 back in January (when I first started writing) and February, barely above 1K and 2K. However I loved that imagine, but it just wasn’t good enough to post here on Tumblr (in my opinion). So time for a rewrite, and I’m so glad I did. 3.5K more words, more ‘plot’, more smut, more love, more Marky. I love it. I’m happy to share this with all of you.

Warnings: Oral (female and male receiving), unprotected sex, shower sex, (some marking + cum, you know the drill, nothing shocking though), a few swearwords, sweet and soft Marky and a water bill so high I could treat you all to dinner.

Word Count: 6.5K

Requested: Yes.

The gentle beams of sunlight shining into the room isn’t what wakes you up this morning. It’s the prickling of Jacob’s beard between your legs, his rough hands sliding over your bare legs, his mouth leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs. That’s what wakes you up.

For a moment you’re completely confused, the sleepy haze still heavily present in your mind. You try to move your legs, gasping when Jacob’s mouth makes contact with your core. “Jacob,” you whimper, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Jacob mumbles from underneath the covers, the vibrations of his voice sending chills throughout your entire body. You grab the covers with both hands, throwing them to the end of the bed as far as you can, revealing a smirking Jacob between your legs. A naked, smirking Jacob to be precise. “Did I wake you up?” Jacob asks you innocently, his fingers brushing over your exposed skin.

“Mmhmm, you sure did,” you say, softly smiling at the man between your legs. What a fantastic way to wake up.

“I can always stop and let you go back to sleep?” Jacob whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as he dips his head down. His tongue makes contact with your core again, your hips almost bucking of the bed by the sudden contact.

“Don’t you dare, J,” you moan out, your hand finding its way into Jacob’s hair, gripping the strands tightly between your fingers. “Please, don’t stop,” you beg him, knowing the effect it will have on him. You hear his sharp intake of breath, his eyes shooting to yours. Gotcha.

“I see what you did there, baby,” Jacob groans against your core, slowly dragging his tongue through your slit. You give him an innocent smile, which turns into a quiet moan when Jacob tightens his grip on your thighs, bringing you even closer to his wicked mouth.

Jacob softly sucks your clit into his mouth, his large hands keeping you flat against the mattress. God, Jacob loves to take his time, loves to take it slow, and all you can do is squirm underneath him, hoping, begging he’ll give you more than this. His tongue swirls around your sensitive nub, excruciating slowly, but so, so good. “Please, J,” you beg, needing more, needing to feel more than this. Jacob looks at you expectantly, you feel his smirk against your core, waiting for what’s yet to come, it always comes.

“Please, Jacob. I need more. Please, can I have more?” you beg him, your eyes pleading to him to fill you, to finally give you what you need. You have absolutely no problem begging Jacob for anything, no shame at all.

“Always so politely huh, sunshine,” Jacob mutters, letting one of your legs fall to the side. He shuffles a bit, moving his large body so he can bring his hand between your legs as well. His hand joins his mouth, his long finger spreading your wetness through your slit, before pushing inside of you. You gasp at the sudden, yet welcome intrusion, clamping down on Jacob’s finger. “Is that what you wanted, baby?” Jacob ask you, moving his finger inside of you, curling it just the right way to make you slowly lose your mind.

“Yes, yes!” you tell him, not sure if it’s an actual answer to his question or an exclamation of relief and contentment.

Jacob makes a sound of approval, pushing a second digit inside of you. Your whimpers and soft moans spurring him on, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Your grip on his hair tightens even more, bringing him impossibly closer to where you need him the most. With only one arm around your thigh you have way more room to move your hips, grinding them against Jacob’s face. You can almost feel his smirk, his fingers digging into your skin. “Take it, baby. That’s it,” he praises you, encouraging you even further to make yourself feel good. This. This is all about you.

The moment your breathing starts to hitch, the moment you get even wetter Jacob knows you’re close. All it takes is a little push, a last nibble on your clit, a last hit with his fingers against that one particular spot and you’re a goner. It’s Jacob’s soft voice telling you to come for him that brings you over the edge, your orgasm thundering through your body. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your vision turning blurry, back arching off the mattress. Your legs tighten around Jacob’s head, keeping him firmly in place, while he does his ultimate best to prolong your orgasm.

Jacob loves to tease you, loves to watch you squirm underneath him, but he’ll always, always let you come. It’s his favourite thing in this whole world to watch you come, that blissful look on your face, those quiet moans and whimpers leaving your pretty mouth. There’s nothing he loves more, except you. Watching you shatter in front of him, all because of him, is the biggest ego booster anyone can get, watching the person you love orgasm thanks to you, because of you.

When you finally feel like you can breath again you relax your body, with shakily legs you open them up again, freeing Jacob from being smothered. You give him a weak smile, still trying to recover from the intense orgasm you just had. Jacob crawls back up your body, wiping your juices off his face with the back of his hand. He places his arm next to your head, putting most of his weight on his arm instead of your much smaller frame.

You reach around him, putting your hand on the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to your own. Jacob smiles, dipping down to take your lips with his. His tongue glides over yours, tasting yourself on his tongue makes this an even more intimate experience. It’s a pure and raw feeling, you can’t even begin to describe it. You break the kiss, smiling back at the man on top of you. “Good morning, sunshine,” Jacob smiles back at you, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

“Good morning indeed, baby,” you tell him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. You lay there for a few minutes, simply staring at each other, enjoying the quiet Sunday morning. Jacob rolls over, taking you with him so you’re laying on top of his chest, a small squeal leaving your lips with the sudden movement. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his other hand finds its way into your hair, playing with the strands. You revel in the feeling of his strong arms around you, feeling so safe and secure.

You know, oh you know there’s no way you’re done, there’s no way you’ll both leave this bed and go on with your day, absolutely no way. Jacob has the exact same idea as his hand slowly moves down to the globes of your ass. Seemingly content with finishing this in bed he grabs one of your cheeks with his large, calloused hand, giving it a firm squeeze. His other hand tugs slightly on your hair, tilting your head so he can capture your lips with his again.

You absolutely want to finish what he started, you want nothing more than that, but you do have other plans than Jacob. Plans that involve him, a hot shower and you on your knees in front of him. You break the kiss, wiggling out of Jacob’s arms, who gives you a confused and almost disappointed look, a slight pout visible on his handsome face. You almost feel sorry for him, almost. “Baby?” Jacob whispers, reaching his arms out to you, eyebrows furrowed, an emotion on his face you can’t place.

“Don’t, J,” you shake your head at him, a small smile playing on your lips, surely confusing him even more. Poor guy, now you do start to feel sorry for him. You lean forward, brushing your lips over his ear. “Why don’t you head into the shower, love? I think we have some unfinished business, don’t you think?” you whisper into his ear, enjoying the way his breathing hitches.

You lean back, looking triumphantly at the astonished Jacob in front of you. He opens and closes his mouth, you’re pretty sure you can hear the wheels turning inside of his head. You want to laugh at him, at the way he looks when the realization of your words settle in. His eyes shoot from you to the shower and back to you, his face lighting up like a kid in a candy store.

You shoot him a quick wink, a small smile playing on your lips at his expression. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen a 6’6 man jump out of bed that fast, almost tripping over the sheets. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to contain your laughter at the sight before you. Jacob untangles his leg as fast as he possibly can, running straight towards the shower.

Barely 5 seconds later you hear the sound of the shower, the water falling on the tiles. You let out the laugh you’d been holding in and climb off the bed yourself, making your way over to the shower to give your boyfriend your own version of ‘good morning’.

You softly close the door behind you, turning your gaze onto the man standing underneath the stream of water. Your eyes rake over his naked body, focusing on the water droplets that fall onto his skin, following the sharp edges of his body until they fall down onto the tiles. It’s hypnotizing, the way he moves underneath the stream, the way his tattooed arms flex when he brushes his hands through his hair. You could watch him like this forever, never getting bored at the sight before you. What a sight.

Jacob catches you staring, gawking at him and his body. “Come here, babe,” he says, smirking at your obvious desire for him. You shake your head, trying to clear it of the lust induced haze – without much luck – before walking into Jacob’s awaiting arms. He pulls you close to him, his arms tightening around your body. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing both of your cheeks with his large hands. You gasp by the sudden pinch, giving Jacob the perfect opportunity to claim your lips with his.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him. A request you happily fulfil, granting him access to your mouth. His tongue collapses with your own, twisting and turning around the other, exploring familiar grounds. Hands wander over wet skin, gasps and moans swallowed by the sound of the never ending stream of water. At some point during your passionate make out Jacob’s hand finds its way into your hair, entangling his fingers with the strands.

Jacob tightens his grip on your hair, giving a slight tug to break off the heated kiss. You keep your eyes on him, the twinkling in his eyes promising nothing but trouble and mischief. “Are you gonna get on your knees for me, beautiful?” he whispers against your lips, giving you that signature smile, that smile that could make you do absolutely anything. You nod your head at him, your fingers trailing over his abdomen. You did promise him a ‘good morning’, right?

Jacob guides you to the ground, his hand firmly on your jaw the entire time. Your hands follow his body, sliding over every part except the part where he aches for you. You lightly dig your nails into his thighs as you settle down on the cold stone tiles. You fight to keep the smirk of your face as Jacob groans, his cock twitching right in front of you. Jacob brushes his thumb over your cheek, before moving it to your bottom lip. You look up at him, the desire and lust clearly swirling in his eyes. Slowly, excruciating slowly he pushes his thumb past your lips, coaxing you to suck it into your mouth.

“Look at you, so eager, aren’t you?” Jacob smirks, loving nothing more than filling your pretty mouth. It’s a sight for sure, a sight that would be even better if it was his cock in your mouth instead of his thumb, but he’s in no rush today. It’s his day off, something he doesn’t get a lot, something he treats as special. What better way to spend that day with you, on your knees, underneath him, in any possible position and way? Nothing, absolutely nothing beats that.

You release his thumb with a pop, waiting patiently for Jacob’s next move. You keep your eyes on him as he gives you a nod, his sign of ‘go on’. You waste no time, licking his impressive erection from bottom to top. You keep your focus on the underside of his cock, following the large vein with your tongue, stopping every time you almost reach his tip. Jacob’s sharp intakes of breath every time you get closer and closer to the tip spurs you on to prolong your teasing as long as you can, as long as Jacob lets you.

Apparently it won’t be that long, the hand still tangled in your hair yanks you backwards. Your eyes shoot to his, while you give him an innocent smile. It’s not like he wasn’t enjoying it. His hand reaches out, grabbing his throbbing erection. He wraps his fingers around his cock, bringing it closer and closer to your mouth. “Suck,” he commands you, a side you don’t see often with Jacob, a side that makes you clench your thighs together as desire rushes through your body. You love that side of him, you can only wish it would come out to play more often. Maybe this is the way to achieve that, tease him until he can’t help himself but give in to that side of him.

You open up for him, allowing him to slide his erection past your lips. You close your lips around him, softly sucking on his tip. He moans at the feeling, sending chills all over your body. Even in the middle of a shower he tastes like he always does, manly yet fresh, you fucking love it. You simply can’t get enough of him.

Grabbing the base of his cock you give him a firm squeeze, another groan falling from his lips. Your tongue swirls around his tip, softly sucking, all while keeping your eyes on Jacob. The way his abdomen flexes every time you suck harder, his eyes looking up to the ceiling every time he moans, it’s addicting. Moving your hand at the same tempo as your mouth you find a steady rhythm. You flick your wrist just the way he likes, earning yourself another symphony of moans and groans. Like music to your ears, that’s how the moans and groans that leave his lips sound like. Music.

His hand moves to the back of your head, a clear indicator it’s time to hand over your control, although you wonder if you even had it in the first place. You can’t help freezing up for a second, it isn’t Jacob’s fault at all, but no matter the crazy amount of time you’ve been together, he’s still impressive. His cock, his cock is impressive and slightly intimidating. Although.. maybe it applies to Jacob as well, 6’6 of pure muscles, tattoos and a beard? Yes, it definitely applies to both.

Jacob notices your slight change in demeanour, halting the slow movements of his hips. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes showing genuine concern. You nod, flickering your eyes downwards, before meeting his eyes again. Jacob chuckles, clearly understanding what this is all about. “Don’t worry, sunshine. I know what you can handle, but squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop, okay?” he asks you, giving you a reassuring smile.

You nod your head, but Jacob won’t continue without hearing your voice, he needs to hear the words. He slips out of your mouth for a moment, allowing you to voice your thoughts. “I’m okay, J. Just a bit intimidated,” you tell him, smiling when Jacob can’t contain his laughter. “But I’m fine, J. I trust you,” you tell him, reassuring him he’s good to go. He gives you another smile before bringing his erection back to your lips, coaxing you to open up for him again.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he says, his voice low and raspy as he pushes further into your mouth. With his hand on the back of your head he slowly moves himself in and out of your mouth, making sure to never push you further than your limit. It takes you a few minutes to get used to him again, finally able to relax around him, taking him deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” Jacob praises you, only spurring you on to take more, to make this even better for him and you.

His hips thrust forward, deeper into your mouth, a low string of curses leaving his lips. He uses your mouth as he pleases, while also giving you the confidence you can handle him, you can take him. You bring one of your hands back on his thigh, bracing yourself. Your other hand reaches underneath him, gently cupping his balls. You roll them between your fingers, gently giving them your full attention. You know Jacob is close, you know he’s chasing his high as his rhythm turns sloppier and sloppier. All he needs is that last push, that last push over the edge that has him tumbling into the abyss of pure euphoria.

Jacob looks down at you, cursing under his breath. There’s just something about having his girl on her knees in front of him, her lips wrapped around his cock, that drives him absolute nuts. It isn’t a sense of power, it isn’t your surrender. It’s the complete trust you have in him, it’s the love that shows in your eyes, the way you clench your thighs as he fucks your throat, as he chases his orgasm. It’s the fact you’ll do anything for him to make this a phenomenal experience, just like he tries his hardest to return that favour, to make this just as enjoyable for you. It’s teamwork.

He’s so close, so close to reaching his high, so close to just shooting his release down your throat. So close, but today he has other plans, plans that don’t involve you swallowing his seed. The moment he reaches his high, his orgasm thrashing through his body he pulls your hair, releasing himself with a pop from your mouth. His hand shoots out, grabbing his cock and aiming his release at your chest, coating you in his cum.

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so shocked, and.. turned on. Watching Jacob orgasm is an amazing experience on its own, but watching him orgasm and mark you with his cum? That’s incredibly hot. Hotter than you would’ve expected it to be, hotter than you would like to admit to yourself. It’s a damn good thing you’re already in the shower. “What was that, babe?” you ask him, even though you know the answer to that question already, it’s clearly written all over his face.

Jacob smirks at you, sliding his fingers through the cum on your chest. “Just staking my claim, sunshine,” he simply says, bringing his cum-covered fingers to your mouth. “Open up,” he commands you, pushing two fingers past your lips. You suck them into your mouth, licking them clean until there’s nothing left. Jacob makes a sound of approval deep in his throat when his eyes focus on your lips wrapped around his fingers, his eyes blazing a fire you’ve seen so many times before. You’re not done yet, you’re not done until Jacob tells you you’re done.

You release his fingers, looking up at the giant Swede before you. “You don’t have to do that, you know? I’m all yours, completely and utterly yours,” you tell him, smiling as his face turns into a grin. He holds out his hands for your, helping you back onto both feet again.

“I know, but I like you covered in my cum. It looks good on you,” he simply says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the most normal thing to do. You shake your head at him, stepping back under the stream, washing away all the evidence of his ‘claim’.

You feel his eyes on you, on your body, on every inch of your skin. It almost burns, leaving a sizzling feeling behind wherever his eyes landed on. His heated stare makes you ache with lust, desire for him, only him. The predatory look in his eyes tells you he’s coming for you, he’s coming for you hard. You’re more than ready for him, more than ready to take all of him.

Within a second his lips crash on yours, his hand landing on your cheek, keeping you close to him. He backs you up against the shower wall, his knee pressing itself between your legs. You gasp into the kiss, giving Jacob the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. You can’t help but roll your hips forward, grinding down on his thigh. Jacob smirks against your lips knowing you can’t help yourself, knowing you can’t control your need for release.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here against the wall, sunshine,” he breathes out against your lips. Your breath catches in your throat by his words, a quiet moan leaving your mouth when his hand moves down your throat towards your breasts. His fingers linger on your throat for just a second, a second that makes your heart hammer against your chest. Aching for him, for his fingers, for his cock, just simply for all that is Jacob.

His hand cups your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple expertly. You drop your head against the cold shower wall, moaning out at the sensation of his fingers on your sensitive nipple, your core shamelessly grinding on his thigh. Your hand reaches between your bodies, instantly finding Jacob’s semi-hard cock waiting for you.

You close your fingers around him, gently squeezing his growing erection, moving your hand just the way that riles him up, gets him on high alert. “Fuck, you make me hard so fast,” he groans, thrusting upwards into your hand. You smile triumphantly at him, the knowledge that you have this much power over him, makes you even more desperate for him.

Jacob presses his thigh harder against you, his fingers still playing with your taut bud, rolling and pinching them, switching between your left and right breast, driving you absolutely mad. “Are you gonna come for me again, sunshine? Are you gonna show me how pretty you look while getting yourself off on my thigh, huh?” Jacob whispers in your ear, spurring you on to take, take whatever you need. The bastard knows how much his words, how much his teasing turns you on.

His mouth barely leaves your skin, biting and nipping on your neck, throat, anything he can reach. He knows you’re ready for him, ready to take all of him. Hell, you’ve been ready for him all morning, he fucking knows it, but God, he loves to get you off, he loves to watch you get off.

On edge all morning it takes you way less time than expected to reach your high, your second orgasm of the day crashing through your body. Jacob’s name on your lips like it’s the only thing on your mind, and in a way it is. His hands keep your trembling body upright, his thigh still pressing against your now oversensitive core.

His eyes search yours as soon as you’ve come down from your high, a search for affirmation, consent. You reach up, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down towards your own, crashing your lips on his. “Fuck me, J,” you mutter against his lips, the twinkle in his eyes telling you that’s exactly his plan.

You squeeze his now throbbing erection again, a breathy moan leaving Jacob’s lips. “You’re a tease,” he mutters under his breath, before grabbing the back of your thighs and hoisting you up. You squeal, not used to being this high off the ground. Jacob chuckles at your childishness, it isn’t that high up.

Your legs lock around his waist, pulling him closer towards your entrance, toward where you need him the most. He slides his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Chuckling low when you whine at him, tired of waiting, tired of not feeling him inside of you. So he gives you what you want, what you ache for. He lines himself up, before slamming all the way home. You choke on your own breath, the sheer force of Jacob’s thrust smacking the air out of your lungs. He stretches you to the absolute max, pain and pleasure going hand in hand, although pleasure has the upper hand here, it always has.

Jacob groans, trying to keep himself together. It was a bad, yet fantastic idea to slam himself deep inside of your tight pussy. The feeling of being buried deep inside of you will always feel like something extraordinary to him, it’s a mesmerizing feeling and if he could he’d stay like this forever.

“J, baby, you feel so good,” you whisper against his shoulder, bringing him back from his thoughts. He returns your praise with a low grunt of his own, slowly starting to move his hips again. Knowing it probably took some toll on him and his control you keep praising him, soft sweet nothings against his shoulder, against his lips. There isn’t much room to work with in the shower, the slippery tiles making it hard to go any faster than the slow and steady tempo Jacob keeps right now. It’s almost torturous, driving you absolutely mad. The way he fucks you, with slow and deliberate thrusts, making sure you feel every single ridge, every single vein on his cock.

Jacob loves this look on your face, the look of pure bliss, pure euphoria with every thrust he delivers inside of you. He knows he won’t last long, not after this morning, not with the way your pussy clamps down on him every time he moves inside of you. “Tell me what you need, sunshine,” he groans out, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. You need, he needs you, to finish first. You’ll always come first, always.

“I need more, J, harder,” you moan out, your nails digging into Jacob’s shoulders. His mouth finds yours again, and only when he bites down on your bottom lip he speeds up. His hands move to your ass, squeezing each of your cheeks roughly, pushing you further into the cold wall. You can still feel his teeth in your lip, when he picks up his pace further, slamming harder and deeper inside of you. Every thrust, every movement he makes hits the right spot inside of you, it’s so fucking good.

You feel your orgasm creeping closer and closer, you can feel it crawling over your back, inside your tummy, fucking everywhere. Your vision blurs, nails digging deeper into Jacob’s shoulders, black spots appear in your already blurry vision, until you explode around him. Fireworks, fucking fireworks as your orgasm rocks through your body, like your nerve endings are on fire. His name echoes through the shower, your head falling back against his shoulder, completely spent from your third orgasm of the morning. Fuck.

There’s no way, no fucking way he can hold out any longer. Your tight pussy pulsing around him, aftershocks from your intense orgasm still rocking through your body, no fucking way he can keep this up. He thrusts into you once, twice more, before his knees buckle slightly as he reaches his own high for the second time this morning. He groans out your name as he buries himself deep, so damn deep inside of you, coating you with his release. His fingers tingle, his legs feel like jelly, his head spins. Never felt a second, fuck.. even a first orgasm like this, so intense, so intimate, so out of this world, absolutely mind-blowing.

Jacob tries his hardest to stay upright, with you still in his arms. Completely out of breath, mind still full of a post-orgasm induced haze, he puts all his weight against your body, crushing you against the shower wall. He drops his head against your shoulder, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down his racing heart. “You okay there, love?” you ask him softly, running your fingers through his wet hair.

He chuckles low, his raspy voice sending chills all over your body. “More than okay, y/n, more than okay. I just need a minute, maybe two.”

A few more minutes pass, before Jacob carefully slips out of you, making sure not to hurt you in any way. He gently puts you back on your own two feet, pulling you back underneath the hot water. Jacob raises his eyebrows at you when you suddenly start laughing, although he can’t help the smile that forms on his face by your laughter. Nothing better than seeing his girl smile or laugh. “This water bill is going to be so damn expensive, Jacob,” you giggle, pulling him closer to you.

Jacob chuckles, brushing your wet hair out of your face. “I don’t care, that was fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing,” he exclaims, softly pressing his lips on yours in a sweet, loving gesture. He reaches behind you, grabbing one of your shampoo bottles. “Can I wash your hair?” he asks you, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Suspicious, but whatever, if that’s what he wants to do, you’ll play along with it. You nod your head, before turning around so he can reach your hair.

His fingers brush gently through your hair, the smell of your favourite shampoo filling your nose. You sigh softly, this might be the best feeling in the world, something you could get used to. For a moment you think of ways to get Jacob into the shower with you every time you need to wash your hair, but quickly decide that would be a terrible idea. Not for you though, but definitely for your bank account and mother nature. Definitely shouldn’t do that, right?

Jacob’s voice brings you back from your thoughts, his fingers massaging your scalp. “Am I doing this right?” he asks you, a hint of insecurity lacing his voice. You try to answer him, but the only sounds coming from your lips is a muffled moan. “I guess I am,” Jacob chuckles, gently washing the shampoo out of your hair.

You close your eyes, enjoying his hands brushing through your hair, just enjoying his touches. It’s like he can read your mind, it’s almost scary. Just like you expected he had more up his sleeve when he asked if he could wash your hair. His hands wandering down your body, gently soaping your breasts. His soapy hands make soft circles over your breasts, cleaning them thoroughly, even though there’s no way they’re still dirty after the amount of time you spend under the shower stream. “You just needed to touch me some more, huh? you muse, shaking your head softly at him, not bothering to hide your grin.

“I need to make sure you’re completely clean, sunshine,” Jacob tells you, humour lacing his voice. Not bothered by his actions you let him clean you, from your head to your toes, no spot stays untouched. You guess he needs this right now, to make sure you’re absolutely okay, a way of aftercare, so you’re more than happy to give him this.

It takes both of you another 15 minutes to finally get out of the shower and dry off. It’s hard, so hard when you have such an attractive male running around, a naked, attractive male may you add, to keep your hands to yourself. And boy, it’s the exact same way for Jacob, who can’t keep his eyes and hands off you, imagining all the possible ways he can get you underneath or on top of him today, tomorrow and the day after that. It’s hard not touching each other, but why should you stop?

So when an arm wraps around your waist after you just pulled on some panties and hooked your bra, you lean back against the muscular chest behind you. His arm tightens around you, his hand covering your belly. You can feel he’s also still in the process of dressing himself, feeling the warmth radiating from his naked chest. You drop your head against his shoulder, enjoying his affection and attention to the fullest while you still can. You don’t even want to think about that upcoming road trip, not right now, right now all you want to think about is him, him and his warm body.

Jacob presses a soft kiss underneath your ear, snuggling his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you, y/n. I’m going to tell you that a million times more, until you’re absolutely fed up with it, but I need you to know that,” he whispers against your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his waist, before looking up at him. “I love you too, J. So, so much, you know that, right?” you ask him softly, a small smile on your lips. His words make the butterflies in your stomach flutter at full force, you’ll never get used to hearing those words coming from his mouth, never. His words hold a certain edge though, an edge you aren’t used to hearing from him. It’s almost like he’s looking for confirmation, looking for a way to take away his insecurities, whatever they might be.

You squeal when he suddenly picks you up and drops you on the bed. For a moment he simply stares at you, his eyes raking over your body. Just as you want to tell him you aren’t having sex with him again, at least not yet, he chuckles. “I’m not trying to seduce you, sunshine.” When he finally got his fill of your body, he crawls on top of you, wiggling himself between your legs. He softly pecks your lips, before pulling back, a soft smile on his lips.

You cock your head at him, curious to know what he’s thinking right now. “Do you know why I call you ‘sunshine’?” he asks you, that same smile turning into a grin. You shake your head at him, you never thought much about that nickname, although you absolutely adore it. “I never thought I would find someone like you. Even after all this time together I’m still so,” Jacob muses over the right word for a moment, “amazed? I can’t even find the right words to describe it.” He stays silent for a few seconds after that, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. Although he doesn’t speak, his face does. The smile plastered on his face tells you a lot, the glint in his eyes tells you even more. You better pay attention to whatever he’ll tell you, you can see it’s important to him.

“You filled my life with sunshine, you still do every single day. When you give me one of those grins that make your eyes wrinkle, I feel like I’m on top of this world.” You can’t help but laugh at that, it’s no secret Jacob loves that, even though you aren’t too fond of it yourself. “You know those first sunny days? Those first warm beams of sunshine after the cold winter?” he asks you, and you nod. “That’s how you feel to me, every time you smile, every time you look at me. You feel like those first beams of sunshine, the beams that warm your skin, the beams that make you forget the cold winter you endured. That’s how you feel to me, like sunshine. You light up my world, you cover me in sunshine, you are my sunshine.”

His words tug at your heart, you had no idea your nickname went that deep, that it has that much meaning to him. What he just told you means more to you than anything ever could. You can’t help the emotions breaking free, you can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes, you can’t help how his words make you love him even more. He bared himself to you, showed his vulnerable side, showed you what you really mean to him. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Jacob whispers, gently wiping the tears from underneath your eyes. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs softly as he gently kisses your cheeks, your nose, your lips, anything, until you let out a giggle.

You cup his cheek with your hand, softly smiling through your tears. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, love,” you whisper to him. “You shower me in love, affection and good times every single day. You make me feel so loved, so safe, so special. No words can describe how much I love you, Jacob, absolutely no words, but I’ll try my very best to show you exactly how much. Every day I get to spend with you is one I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”

Jacob leans forward, his lips pressing onto yours, so soft, so gentle, almost like he’s afraid to break this vulnerable, real moment you’re sharing with each other. You wipe away the stray tear that falls from his eye, he might be 6’6 and playing one of the toughest sports out there, he’s still human, he still feels like any other person. He buries his hand in your hair, pressing harder against your lips, never have you felt this close to each other.

He breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on you as a smile slowly grows on his face. “It’s a damn good thing I have you for the rest of my life then. We’ll cherish every day together,” he pledges.

You can’t stop your laughter as Jacob rolls over, taking you with him. You land back on top of him, staring down at the love of your life. “We’ll make every single day count, J.”

“Every single minute of every single day, sunshine.”

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hephaestiions · 3 years

Note

you literally glorified infidelity in your wireless 2020, fic writers like you really need to die out before you damage the community at large

you know, i’ve cycled through many iterations of a response to this ask.

first i thought, let’s respond with a bit of sass. let’s say something like, ‘bold of you to assume i haven’t already died out, that tumblr isn’t just a congregation of ghosts moaning about the lives they wish they had’ or ‘what’s a community’ or maybe even a screenshot of the actual definition of glorification (which, well, i do suggest you look up anyway).

then i thought, why entertain it at all? this is my space, this is my blog, it’s my fic. i can delete this ask, turn off anons and be done with it. i would be within my rights to do that.

i also thought many times of explaining the contents of my fic. of explaining myself. contemplated answering this with poetry that metaphorically explains the many many things wrong with this.

but here’s what i finally settled on:

honestly, anon, i’m feeling a little salty. it seems to me that you want fandom to be a highly sanitised space that fits into your personal parameters of ‘safe’ or consumable. what concerns me about that, and about this particular genre of anon hate in general is– for some reason your safe and sanitised world does not exclude sending people comments such as “...[you] need to die out”. i would argue that suggesting someone needs to die is maybe exponentially more threatening and damaging to ‘the community at large’ than a tagged fic that includes a disclaimer stating i do not endorse the behaviour i am writing about, but hey! personal opinions, am i right?

i’m not going to defend my fic. i don’t feel the need to.

but if you think fanfiction about infidelity, fictional work that does not automatically demonise individuals who do something awful as the worst kind of monsters to exist, will actively push people to cheat on their partners (which is what i am assuming your definition of ‘damage’ to be in this scenario)... i’m going to have to ask you to reevaluate. fiction is not validation. it is exploration in a world where there are no real life casualties or consequences.

i cannot believe that people have to keep repeating this: sanitising fan spaces by censoring content you personally find offensive will not in any way make fandom safer.

in fact, this is literally the kind of comment that puts people and the ‘community’ in danger.

i’ll explain.

imagine this: people listen to you. people say, well, the glorification of infidelity really is quite awful, quite traumatising, we ought to ban it. but who determines what glorification is? who determines what romanticisation is? the line is too blurry anon, the only way forward here is to ban infidelity in fics completely.

now readers who found comfort and solace in reading infidelity fics with hurt/comfort, with forgiveness or with freedom, with a particular quote that resonated with them, readers who turned to this fic at 3 am... they’ve lost it too.

but hey, let’s take it further still, because that’s what this type of censorship will open fandom up to. let’s talk about how this will validate people who find content with any exploration of nsfw themes, r*cism, mis*gyny, homoph*bia, transph*bia, r*pe offensive. let’s talk about how they will approach the showrunners of censorship with the same argument: this content could be traumatising, could be validating for someone’s darker impulses, let’s ban it. and it all gets banned.

enemies to lovers, banned because it might be construed as abusive. a/b/o, might be construed as misogynistic or codependent. hmm. high-school/college, oh god, that could be underage! soulmates? where’s the agency?! kid-fics? a minefield, any parenting is bad parenting to parents who do not parent that way. mcd? let’s not even go there. body-swap? the consent issues!!

“alright. what about ‘there was only one bed’?” “well, i mean, i’m really not comfortable with that, it’s really creepy how writers will just force characters who don’t want to consent to that kind of intimacy into each others’ spaces.”

now i’m not saying that your personal opinions on these tropes, these themes, these topics is invalid. i’m not saying that if you’re triggered or made uncomfortable by these things, you should still read them. i’m saying that enforcing your personal preferences and takes on every single person in a community is not what critical consumers of media do, it’s what fascist and authoritarian governments and abusive individuals who do not understand boundaries do.

here’s the truth about media that antis don’t like: there are antis for the media they actually do like. you ban something, you open up the goddamn floodgates for fluff antis to present their cases about how making characters ooc in fluff can be highly traumatic to people and how it should be banned. you start this brand of censorship, you risk losing fandom and the community you are so concerned about me damaging entirely.

i’ll leave you with a realisation i’ve come to by reading all the posts made by people better with words than i am: the fastest way to create a dystopia is for someone to think their version of utopia is universal.

further reading for folks who might be interested in tumblr posts about fanfic:

fanfiction as a collective exists as a combination of the ideal state and all the broken pieces that are left behind. fanfiction: the stories mainstream showrunners won’t tell. for the people trying to make fandom a better place.

coexistence of hurt and healing

there are thousands of other such posts, articles, books, academic articles, maybe even interviews on the subject, and if anyone wants to send a few mine (and anon’s) way, feel free!

#i apologise to all my followers for this massive post #but yikea #my accessibility as a content creator does not equate to my tolerance of trolls #fanfic #fandom #ao3 #tw infidelity #tw antis #geets loses her cool rip #Anonymous

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Pinky promise

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - Tis part of my donut series which is linked in masterlist. You can just read it for the smut tho, smut usually doesn’t have anything to do with plot🥴🥴

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve yells at you but promises not do it again. But then he had to teach you a lesson too...

Warnings - 18+ONLY, smut(m/f), some assplay, spanking, daddy kink, brat tamer Steve, angst, references to stalking, more to come in future chapters.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 4.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

He traced the bridge of your nose with his finger, ever so lightly, his touch barely there so as not to wake you from your peaceful slumber. He smiled at the way you cutely scrunched up your nose when he withdrew his finger.

With your hand across his chest, both your legs over his thighs - you were pretty much sleeping on top of him - clinging to him like a koala. Not that he’d complain. He couldn’t be happier.

Most nights he can barely sleep for two hours, if that wasn’t interrupted by his consistent nightmares - but with you everything felt so serene. He hoped to make you feel the same way.

“No more kale,” you murmured in your sleep.

He frowned, what the hell were you dreaming about?

After your first time together he had given you a nice bath, washed your hair. His bathtub was too small to fit both of you so he simply helped wash you up and then help you into his t-shirt. He never knew he would find his clothes so sexy on you. He wondered how big the baths in the tower’s apartments were. Surely they could fit the both of you. Maybe then he could bathe with you and more...

That was maybe the only flaw you had. How insatiable you manage to make him without even trying. Lathering up your soft skin had done a number on him, especially when his hand drifted between your legs, cleaning you up thoroughly. You were pretty out of it to know what was going on.

Even now, he had woken up with an achingly hard erection. What with snuggling your plump ass that was persistent on grinding against his crotch, for some reason. He decided to ignore it - maybe take care of it later in the shower.

He needed to make you some breakfast first and get you replenished and strong. Then if you’re up for it, maybe he can have his fun.

After struggling to get out of your snuggly trap without waking you he made his way over to the kitchen. Beating up the batter for waffles, some fresh fruit, juice and a PB and J. He put all of it on a tray, wishing he had a rose or two to make it easy on the eyes, he made his way over to you.

Caressing your face, placing a few loud kisses on your cheek as you whined, “Wake up, darling,” he whispered against your skin.

“It’s Saturday,” you pushed him away, turning on your side and away from him.

“I know but I have to go to work. I’d like to spend some time with you, wouldn’t you? It’s your first time sleeping over I want us to have breakfast together,” he nuzzled the crook of your neck.

You kicked your blanket away, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light, “Okay,” you slurred, “but you should know I’m not a morning person.”

“Noted,” he smiled, hugging your back closer to him.

Your eyes snapped open when you felt it against your butt cheeks. There was no mistaking it, “Steve, are you... hard?” you asked in a low voice. You wiggled your butt so you could be sure - yup, that’s his monster cock awake again, alright.

He hummed, “It’s just what you do to me, princess.” He snaked a hand up, fondling your soft flesh of your breast with it. Squeezing your hard bud through his t-shirt.

“Does... it hurt? I know it’s a weird question but I’m just curious...” you trailed off.

“Sometimes it’s just annoying and sometimes it’s painful. Like right now,” he husked in your ear, holding onto your hip and rutting up in your ass. His palm making it’s way between your legs, tracing patterns on your inner thigh.

“Oh. Then maybe you should do something about it. I don’t want you be in pain,” you squirmed in his hold. You could still feel the ache of last night’s activities in your core but the idea of going at it again was just as appealing to you.

“Yeah? You want it?” he let his fingers dip in your folds, “You’re fucking drenched, princess,” he groaned.

You gasped. It’s not everyday you hear Captain America spouting such profanities.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to do a thing,” he promised, pushing you on your stomach he took his shirt off of you. Shoving a pillow under your hips to give him access and let you relax at the same time. “You were so good last night, doll. Can you be good now? For me?”

You nodded your head, your cheek pressed to the soft pillow. You didn’t really know what ‘being good' entailed. You did know that if he wanted to slap you and have you thank him for it, you’d probably do it. Really you would do anything to please him.

You jerked as you felt the tip of his tongue nudge at your entrance. Dipping inside your heat - so warm and velvety - and then pulling out to lick a stripe up your slit.

“You’ve got a nice ass, sweetheart, fits in my hand perfectly,” he praised, squeezing your ass and then kneeling behind you.

He touched the column of your spin, pressing on the middle of your back to arch you up to him, your wide hips and butt presented so perfectly to him. It was like a dream come true. There was no way he could resist.

Pulling your cheeks apart, he admired your holes, before prodding at your second hole and tracing it with his tongue.

You squealed at that. “St - Steve, what are you doing?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

“You don’t like it, doll?” he asked, licking at it again, “If you don’t just say so. I’ll stop.” he stated. Which wasn’t a lie, he probably should’ve asked you before doing it in the first place.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t like it... it’s just so dirty but I think in a good way,” you shove your face back in your pillow.

He chuckled, maybe that was why he loved the idea of it so much as well. It was so debauched - something he only got to share with you. To the world he maybe pure and pious but he won’t hesitate to eat his girl’s ass any chance he gets.

“I know, doll. It’s like you stir up something dark in me,” he gritted, pressing his thumb inside your tight pluckered hole, “I knew the moment I met you, you were nothing but trouble,” He groaned when he felt you clenched around his thumb.

You jerked forward at the unusual fullness. Gasping incredulously, “Wh - I’m trouble?! You’re the one with your finger buried up my ass. But sure! I’m the one corrupting America’s son,” you yelped when you he delivered a harsh slap on your butt. “Jesus! Warn a girl!” you heaved as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Being so exposed to him and letting him have his way with you - most of it liking it WAY more than you should have should make you feel at least a modicum of shame but it didn’t.

He shushed you, “Didn’t you promise to be good?”

“I promised no such thing!”

He shook his head, there was no point in making you behave, not that he truly wanted you to be good anyway. Pulling his thumb out of your ass, he slathered some lube on your slippery folds, massaging it on your bundle of nerves.

You whimpered into the pillow, “Do we even need it anymore?”

“Yes, we do,” he held your hips in a firm grip, lining himself up to your cunt, “You’re too small to take me without it,” he smirked as he pushed into your warm heat.

You would never understand how much he loved the fact that you were smaller than him. He could fight off anyone who dared to threaten you or hurt you, he had to bend a significant amount to kiss you, he could easily haul you up, manhandle you - do whatever he wants to you. Not that he’d ever take advantage of his strength - but these were some privileges he would never have without the serum.

He bend over you, his chest to your back, pulling you closer to him by circling a hand around your soft stomach. Driving his hips back before harshly snapping them forward. He nuzzled the crook of your neck, “How does that feel? Hm?” He set a fast pace, thrusting into you with much more vigor than the previous night. Something about doing it from behind made it all the more primal and needy.

“So good,” you choked. Your fingers digging into his forearms as you felt his tip hit your spongy spot, making your vision blurry and mind hazy.

He knelt above you again, so he could look at your ass. Jiggling from the force of his thrusts. His hand ached to spank it again - but he knew he shouldn’t. Not before talking to you about it. He compromised on fondling it with his palm as he felt you clench around his length.

“You close, doll?”

“Yeah,” you murmured as you felt the coil in your belly snap, your whole body going taut as pleasure took over you.

Your hips collapsed back on the bed - not really having enough energy to hold yourself up anymore.

He pulled out just when he was about to come, jerking his cock with his hand till spurts of his spend landed on your ass and back.

He used the shirt you were wearing to clean to you up, setting the tray of breakfast before you and giving your forehead a quick kiss.

You munched on a slice of apple, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your giggles. causing him to raise his brow at you. “It’s just I’m completely naked -having breakfast in bed. Never imagined I’d get so lucky.” you gushed, making heart eyes at him.

“I’m the lucky one,” he smiled, booping your nose, “I have to get going though.”

“I thought you wanted to have breakfast together?” you pouted, hoping that would make him stay as he rummaged through his closet, setting his clothes out. Giving you a nice view of his bubble butt. It’s thicker than mine.

He looked at you over his shoulder, “I already had my breakfast, doll,” he winked.

Your jaw dropped as you closed your mouth and then opened it again, gaping like a goddamn fish as you tried to think of something to say.

He wrapped a towel around his waist, making his way to the shower, “I’m running late since you distracted me.”

“Sure I distracted you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve greeted him, putting a hand over his shoulder to get his attention.

“What the fuck?” he helped, spilling his coffee all over his keyboard. He turned around in his chair, giving Steve a steely glare, “What is wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. Sure ambushing Tony in his lab may not be his greatest idea but - “I need a favor.”

“It’s always about what people need from me,” the billionaire shook his head despondently, trying to clean his soiled workspace with some napkins, “Came to ask for sex tips, have you?”

“What?!” Steve blurted out, his eyes widening.

Did Natasha go around telling everyone about their private conversation? If so he’ll never hear the end of it. He was on the receiving end of almost all of Tony’s jabs. Why was he coming to him for such an important favor anyway...

“Too bad for you, I don’t give away my trade secrets.” He shrugged.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breathe, he can do this, it’s for his girl.

“Fine, I’ll tell you some of them. A woman has eight erogenous zones - ”

Right, this was just Tony being Tony. Nat would never to that to him.

“Jesus, Tony! I don’t need sex advice from you!” He was well acquainted with your erogenous zones now, even though you’ve only been together a couple of times. He could make you come without even touching you.

“Really?” Tony raised a brow, eyeing him up and down, “It’s weird that you have a life outside of the Avengers in the first place.”

“Right. You probably think I go to sleep in the cap suit,” Steve retorted, his lips pressed in a flat line. To most people there was no distinction between cap and him.

“Actually, I did,” he grinned, “What did you want anyway?”

“Well... I need you to promise to keep this between us,” Even if he and Tony had somewhat of a ‘complicated’ friendship, there was no one he could trust with this,

He nodded, “Cross my heart,” doing so over his chest.

“Is there anyway you can hack into a CCTV camera?” Steve asked, giving him your address. There was only one outside of your building, it wasn't much but it was all he had to work with.

“Should be easy enough,” he said, hitting the keys of his keyboard, “Looks like their footage expires in a month or so.”

“That’s okay, I only need to see this past week,” he pulled up a chair, taking a seat beside him.

“Are we stalking Miss unicorn? Is she cheating on you?!” he gasped. “If you get cheated on then the rest of us don’t have any hope.”

“No... she thinks she’s being stalked. And I believe her.”

“She’s awfully lucky to have an Avenger for a boyfriend then.... are you sure you want to go through over two hundred hours of it? Just get an intern to do it,” he pressed play, fast forwarding it over four times.

“I can’t trust anyone else with this. Besides I’ll know what to look for,” The serum also gifted him keen eyes. Even if the the footage was blurry and pixelated he could figure out a lot by just looking at body language and such. “You don’t have to watch it with me.”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I have nothing else to do,” he drawled, “JARVIS, cancel all my appointments. We’re stalking Steve’s girlfriend. I’ll go get the popcorn.”

It was not easy to spend the entire weekend sitting in a chair watching basically nothing with Tony, but Steve managed to just tune him out. He seemed to get excited, to poke fun, every time Steve dropped you off at your doorstep, always leaving with a thorough goodbye kiss.

Think of the children!

All this PDA is not good for you squeaky clean image, Cap. You’ve been corrupted by the Gen Z and the millennials.

“Wait, stop right there,” Steve asked upon spotting an electrician, inconspicuous at first sight...

“It’s just the cable guy.”

“He’s carrying a gun, see,” he pointed at the screen.

Tony scrunched up his nose, “No, he’s not. You can barely see his face.”

“Is there a way to get a clearer image of his face?”

“No. This isn’t a movie. You can always interrogate her neighbors,” he suggested.

“I don’t know about that. Let’s keep that as a plan B.”

They didn’t really find anything else of use. He cracked his neck, ready to home to you after a long day. Grateful that he had someone to go home to. He thanked Tony while putting on his jacket.

“Don’t thank me. Just remember that you owe me forever.”

“That’s fair I guess...” he dusted off the wrinkles in his pants.

“So does she like live with you now? Haven’t you only been dating for two months? I’ve never even had a relationship that long.”

“Well, I’m not you.” And he didn’t appreciate other people snooping in his private life. He had no idea what he would do if his relationship went public. He decided not to worry about that for now. He needed to work on his first least.

Three weeks later

You huffed, your ankle twisting against the ground. You straightened your feet back up and willed yourself to keep walking. Just two more blocks. You can do this.

Today was not your day. Your boss had sent you all the way to Connecticut to do a delivery. Even though it wasn’t your job to do deliveries. Which meant you had to take the subway - which was over an hour late. You couldn’t even call Steve to let him know that you would be late because your phone just chose to stop working.

And then your heel broke... which meant you were dragging yourself back home all the way from the station.

You were ready to just go to sleep and maybe never wake up.

“Finally,” you grumbled, slamming the door behind you and ridding your feet of the uncomfortable strappy knock offs. “Oh, Steve, you wouldn’t believe the day I had,” you plumped down on the couch, laying back against the cushions.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You opened your eyes to see him standing tall in front of you. His hands folded over his chest and his jaw clenched as he glared at you.

“Huh?”

“It’s almost midnight,” he shook his head. “Did it occur to you to maybe call me and let me know that you were going to be late?”

“I - my phone just stopped working - ”

“Let me guess - you forgot to charge it again,” Your name rolled off his tongue, which meant something was wrong - he never said your name, he had over a million nicknames for you. “That’s not charming. That’s just careless and irresponsible of you. You’re an adult, start acting like it.”

“Fuck you.” The words escaped your mouth before you could ponder about it. Tears burning your eyes, but you held them back, you had never been afraid of being vulnerable in front of him. Right now, however, you needed to stand your ground.

A look of hurt crossed his face before it hardened again. “You can never take any sort of criticism - ”

“It just stopped working!” you yelled, interrupting him. “It’s old and yeah I don’t use it properly because I’m irresponsible, so it stopped. I didn’t even know what time it was.”

“I was worried about you,” his voice cracked. He rubbed his eyes. “I made so many calls. I called your mother - who didn’t even know who I was.” He gave you a sardonic chuckle. He was discussing marriage plans with you and you hadn’t even told your family about him.

“You know, Steve, if you want a responsible and mature girlfriend, you should go and get one. I’ll make it easier for you,” you stood up, bumping into him and heading towards the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he grabbed at your forearm, pulling you back.

“I’m leaving! I’ll go stay at my mothers,” you choked on a sob, your arms feebly trying to fight him off, “I don’t need you or your help! I’m sure plenty of mature women would love to be with Captain America.”

“Stop it! I didn’t mean it like that and you know it,” Your tears pulled at his heart strings. Making him regret his words.

“If you didn’t mean it then you shouldn’t have said it,” you spit. Finally gathering enough courage to look into his eyes, “I guess I know what you think of me now.” Your bottom lip quivering as you tried to push at his chest. But he was built like a rock, refusing to budge even a bit.

He grabbed your wrists, “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve used better words. But you can’t just pack up and leave whenever we have a fight.”

You scoffed, “Yes I can! Just watch me!”

“Yes, you can,” he sighed, pulling your head into his chest, “but you shouldn’t. Don’t you think your words hurt me too?” he asked. Nuzzling his nose in your hair, swaying you both side to side but you were still pushing at his chest and whimpering. “Just let me hold you for a while. I thought something bad had happened to you.”

Which seemed to quell your rage for the time being as you went limp in his arms. He hadn’t told you about the suspicious cable guy or how maybe you were being stalked. Either by SHIELD, someone out for revenge on him or an unwanted suitor of yours. It didn’t really matter. He didn’t want to worry you, maybe he should tell you to get you to take things more seriously.

“You really had me worried there,” he mumbled, “Do you forgive me?” Placing a kiss to your hair.

You shook your head against his chest. “Nuh-uh.”

“What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?” he wanted to know.

You rubbed your tears and snot on his shirt - as a petty revenge, looking up at him with your swollen eyes and nose, “I read somewhere that the best way to ask for forgiveness is changed behavior.”

“That is true,” he nodded.

“Since you’ve never been that mean before - I can let it go for now. Only if you promise not to do it again.”

“Of course, sweet - ”

“I mean it. No yelling, cursing or meanness of any sort. I don’t care that you’re Captain America. You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I promise.”

“You have to pink promise to seal it. A pink promise has higher esteem than a normal one,” you stated, holding your pinky up to him.

“Can I seal it with a kiss?” he suggested but then bit his tongue at the deadly glare you have him. “Okay then, I pinky promise,” he linked his pinky with yours, looking into your eyes, “I’ll never ever yell at you or curse at you. Or be mean ever again - the last thing I want to be is like my father.”

“What? You never told me that your dad - ”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, “Can I kiss you? Please?” he gave you his best puppy eyes.

“Nope,” you pushed him away. You can’t be too easy. He had to pay. “I’m tired, I had a long day. Im'a just go to bed,” you gave an exaggerated yawn.

You headed off to your shared bedroom again, but then before you knew it - in the blink of an eye - he hauled you over his knee as he sat back on the couch.

“Not so fast,” he tutted, stroking your clothed buttcheek. “Let’s not forget you were at fault too. You had me worried sick. I was imagining the worst things about you and I couldn’t get a hold of you. I’m never letting you out my sight again.”

You rubbed your forehead, dizzy from being spun so fast. Looking at him over your shoulder, “But what you did... or said was deliberate.”

“Maybe so. But you could've called me and let me know. I would’ve come to you and picked you up.” He pinched your butt as you yelped.

“I don’t remember your number!” You heaved. What was he up to? Why were you over his lap?

He shook his head. “Even you have to agree that is irresponsible. You’re supposed to be good at numbers, baby. Aren’t you an accountant? Think you can count to seven? You need to be taught a lesson.” He pulled the helm of your dress, exposing your Powerpuff girls panties to him.

The smug asshole. “Excuse me! Who are you to teach me a lesson?”

He snapped the elastic band against your hip, “These are cute.”

Your cheeks heated up and you tried to tell him off, flustered and exhausted you just give up. Pushing your cheek against the cushion. “Whatever,” you grumble.

“You’re such a brat you know that? You love making me worry when all want to do is protect you and keep you safe,” he pulled your panties down till they were tangled in your ankles, warming you up by stroking your naked cheeks. “I’m getting you a new phone. And you don’t need to work for someone who doesn’t appreciate you - I can take care of now,” He had always had a bad feeling about your eccentric boss, sending you away on such a short notice - you absolutely did not deserve to be treated like that. “How many do you think you deserve?”

Steve never associated spanking with sexiness or as anything erotic. He was supposed to be a gentleman. He shouldn’t have such dirty kinks.

Sure he likes a nice plump ass. Your ass to be more specific. He loved seeing it in tight yoga pants, snug jeans. Hell he even liked seeing it in dresses that don’t necessarily flaunt it. When he is forced to use his imagination.

He also liked seeing it in your cute pastel cotton panties. With stars or heart patterns. Or better yet, no panties.

Just a few days ago, he saw your ass perched up in your cute pink panties, as you were scrolling on your phone, leaning on the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help it, his hand moved before he could even register what was happening. He slapped your ass, the smack echoing in the room, your ass jiggling, and your small yelp, made him harder than hed ever been.

You looked so adorable when you tried to act like you didn’t like it. Though the musky scent of your weeping sex clearly said otherwise. He bent you over the counter and fucked you then and there to prove you wrong.

He never spanked you again. He didn’t get a chance to, until now...

You were pretty out of it, sleep taking over your tired eyes, maybe that’s why it just slipped out - “Whatever you want, daddy.”

“What?” he instantly stopped his ministrations, staring at the back of your head.

“What?” you asked. Your eyes widening , “Oh dear god, did I say that out loud?” You shut your eyes so tightly, refusing to ever look at him again.

You had only ever read about it in erotica or used the term in jest. Maybe part of you did feel that way about Steve but there was absolutely no way you’d ever admit it. You joked with your friends about how Steve was a ‘big daddy’ when you had told them you were dating Captain America. Because of his height and build and nurturing nature. They dubbed him ‘America’s daddy’.

“Yes, you did,” you could feel him smirking through the smugness dripping in his voice, “It’s ok, doll. I don’t get why you’re embarrassed, I can be your daddy. I think you deserve seven? For every hour you were late. You promised to be home by five pm.”

You didn’t say a single word, not really trusting yourself to speak at all. He pinched your butt again, demanding an answer. “Yes! Fine! Seven is okay I guess.”

“You are to count them and then thank me for them. Understood?”

“Just get on with it,” you would feel yourself getting wetter with anticipation, you squirmed in his hold, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction.

“Keep up that attitude and I’ll spank you till you can’t see straight. And now, just because of that it’s ten.” He slipped his hand between your legs. Smearing your arousal around your lips. You probably didn’t know about his enhanced sense of smell, letting him know whenever you were aroused. “What do you want the safe word to be? When you say it - we stop.”

“How about buttercream?” you suggested.

“Buttercream it is. Now get ready. Remember to count and - ”

“And thank you, yes I remember,” you rolled your eyes. Wondering if he’s ever going to actually go through with it or if he was all talk.

You yelped as soon as he landing the first blow, the burning sting and the loud smack that following causing your cheeks to heat up.

“One. Thank you...” you tried to catch your breathe, “daddy.”

His cock stirred at your new petname for him. He could sink into you right then and there but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He raised his hand again, delivering blow after blow to you, alternating between both your cheeks. Sneaking one small to your upper thigh as well - just because he could. He held back his strength, of course. He didn’t really want to hurt you, just teach you a lesson.

“Nine, holy fuck!” your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists tightly. Needing something to hold onto. “Th-thank you, daddy!” You added. Cursing yourself for almost forgetting.

He let his fingers wander down to your cunt again, dipping a finger in your heat, “You seemed to be enjoying this. Have you learned your lesson?”

You furiously nodded your head, “Yes! I’ll always tell you when I’m going to be late. I mean... as soon as I get a new phone.”

He snorted, “Don’t worry about that, princess,” Soothing a hand over your swollen skin, “Just one more. Think you can take it?” you nod again.

You whimpered and then moaned as he delivered the last slap to your right cheek. “Te - n,” you hiccupped, “Thank you...”

“You were so good, sweetheart,” he cooed. Setting you down on the couch, hovering over your back and peppering kisses to your ass, “but I’m far from done with you.”

You hummed as you heard the tell-tale sign of him unzipping his pants. “Gonna be a long night,” you giggled into the pillow.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

#the donut series #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x reader

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Clubs Aren’t My Thing. (2/2) (18+)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | woooo, part 2 ! as stated previously, this is heavily inspired by @/mystic-sky on tumblr or skyfelt on ao3. amazing writer, check her out (but this isn’t a direct copy, just same storyline in a way). i’m cleaning up my writing a lot, i think. maybe im getting better as well? probably not but uh i kinda gave up at the end and uh.. hope u enjoy.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Voyeurism To Some Degree, Teasing, Ripped Tights, I didn’t proof read. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Dom! Gojo x Sub! Female Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 4561

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | In which you finally get fucked by this mysterious, yet freakishly handsome stranger. That’s it, you just get fucked.

The first thing you realize is how cold it is. The wind is working against you, it seems, as you take your first step out of the warm building. Hair blows in every direction, you button up your cardigan, your breath coming out in puffs of smoke. Shivers went down your spine. Not too far behind you, the mysterious man that you had met just an hour ago trailed behind, winking and waving at the girls confidently using him as eye-candy. Long strides, hands shoved into his pockets. Your heart swells as you watch other woman stare flirtatiously as he gestured back at them, before their eyes set on you. He followed you like a duckling, and you’re sure to relish in how powerful it made you feel. He walked like a model, with so much confidence. He didn’t appear as cold, his cheeks were flush and he reeked of fruity sugary alcohol, a playful grin still stubbornly on his face, 5 minutes later. “Uber should be coming soon... I think, too lazy to check. You cold?” he slurred huskily. You nod. For a one night stand, he was strangely kind to you. He doesn’t say anything after that, so you opt to listen to the life around you. The clicking of high heels, the chatter, the drunken rants. “Aw, come here.” He didn’t give you much of a choice, though. Pulling you in to his chest, without warning. Your first instinct is to scream bloody murder, but he’s so warm, and you definitely need it. One loose arm over your figure, his unoccupied arm dangled dangerously close to your butt. Taking in a deep breath, anticipating the feeling of being so scandalous in public, he chuckles breathily, almost like a taunt. You can feel the rumble in his chest as he cleared his throat. You stare up at him, confused as to why you’re not feeling anything in your lower regions, before you realize what he was doing. Rubbing your head with the once unoccupied hand, his fingers weaved into your hair as he sniffled. Something about the interaction was strangely intimate, but you don’t dare to say a word. You inhale sharply, rubbing your face into his chest. You want to get closer, deep in bliss as he seemed to return the want back. You want to close any remaining space between the two of you, but making the first move was scary. He yawns, and this triggers you to yawn as well. It was probably well past 1 AM by now, and you were tired. You couldn’t hear much around you other then the honk of the growing sea of cars, some people just starting their night, and the others ending it. “Oh shit. Our Uber’s here.” he mutters under his breath, pushing you out of his chest gently. Whining, you try to push yourself back into his arms, he takes a quick glance down at you, traces of a faint lukewarm smile playing upon his lips. Almost like he’s saying, “Are you kidding me right now?” before taking a hold of your hand. Fingers intertwining as if they were meant to be together, you gawk down at your hands, before looking back up at him. There were a few issues, one, you had no idea if this man had an intent to kidnap you. Second, you didn’t know what the Uber looked like, and you’re too embarrassed to ask. Third, he was holding your hand with no hesitation, and the feeling in your chest was indescribable. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you hope that it’s something along the lines of what you’re thinking. Your eyes briefly flickering over his jawline as you pondered to yourself, but what you do know is that you’re being dragged towards the presumed Uber. It’s sleek, and black, with a glossy finish, you note. “Yo chill, I’m not gonna kidnap you, missy.” chuckling, examining your doubtful, yet frightened expression. He swung open the car door carelessly. “After you, m’lady.” he adds, bowing and straightening, his chin up. “Thank you, Sir Mysterious.” you give him a small smile before sliding into the sleek, comfortable seats. His eyebrow raised, he looked at you. “That’s a first.” “It’s also a shit nickname, maybe that’s why you’ve never heard it.” you suggested. “I like it. Has a nice ring to it.” a lukewarm smile played at his glossy lips. The sly smile wipes clean off your face, he laughs at you while sliding into his designated seat, as if he owned the car. Right. You were in a car, and it would be best for you to study your surroundings, just to make sure you weren’t being kidnapped. The car was obviously expensive, black leather reclining seats, and a sweet offering of warmth against the chill of the midnight air. A coffee cup idly stood in the cup holder, the driver taking a quick sip and turning his body to look at you two. Air fresheners and various trinkets dangled from the rear-view mirror, swinging back and forth “A couple, eh? You wanna go to this address?” The driver whipped his phone out, an address in black, bold text stood out. “Yep.” the man says confidently. Opening your mouth to speak, you try to inform the driver that he wasn’t your boyfriend, before your supposed boyfriend covers your mouth with his hand as soon as the driver repositioned towards the steering wheel. You realize that his other hand is on your thigh, stroking your skin. This newfound position was at the very least, terrifying. There was another person in the vehicle, for starters, and you weren’t exactly the quiet type when it came to, well, anything in general. Cold, large calloused hands considerately caressed your thigh, and your breathing hitches. His other arm against his side, but you know his fingers are itching to feel you all over. You want to moan, but the driver’s presence is enough to tell you that it would be stupid. Fingers drawing shapes, words, anything would repeatedly loop on the sensitive skin just barely. He was definitely teasing you, but you couldn’t quite fight back. “Why don’t you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” he whispers, you anticipate the driver to look back at the two of you, and to throw both of you off the car, but he does no such thing. Feebly, you raise your arm up, ignoring the flirtatious request. Swatting his hand away in a desperate attempt to get him to stop before it got out of hand, but he’s persistent. It’s getting even more difficult to breathe quietly now, your body getting hotter and hotter and hotter. It doesn’t take long for a noise to slip out from your lips that you can’t quite shut up, and the driver turns to look at you. “So precious.” the white haired man mouths to you before quickly turning his head to look at the window, humming to himself, still caressing your thigh. “Ma’am? Are you okay?” About to respond, the white haired man scooched closer to you. His clothed leg now rubbing your bare skin. He whistles innocently in the opposite direction before skimming his hand against your inner thigh, and you almost shriek. Instead, you let out a pathetic gasp. Panning his gaze over to you, he gives you a sly, playful smirk, before looking away again. Drawing more shapes onto your skin, he hums. It was so hard to focus, or even remember the words the driver had said literally just a minute ago. You feel yourself shiver, almost losing yourself entirely to his hands before shakily responding to the driver, praying to any divine figure in the skies that you would be coherent. “Y-yeah. Just, spilled water on m-my clothes.” you reply, barely audible. The driver’s eyes stared back at yours, concern etched onto his features, before sighing. Tension grew inside of you. “Alright, if you need anything, just ask, okay ma’am?” Trying to respond, no sound comes out of your mouth, and the reason dawns on you. Taking a quick look down, the man’s digits were now fumbling with your panties, brushing against your wetness. It takes a moment for you to register in your brain, you thank every entity possible for preventing the inevitable slew of noises you’d make. Waves of need crashing over your body. You hungrily stare at him, hoping that he’d be kind enough to stop and save it for later. Circling your entrance through the now utterly soaked panties, he dips his finger in, just enough so you could feel the slight pressure against your sensitive skin. He’s fucking taunting you again. Driver be damned, you needed him. Opening your legs more, you confidently peer at him, inviting him to explore your body even more. His fingers are drumming against the leather surface, the other hand had retreated back to your thigh, boldly looking at you back. “No. I thought you didn’t want to, what’s with the change of thought?” he mouths, stifling a chuckle and a smug tone, already knowing what you were going to ask. Bewildered, you gape at him before shaking your head curtly, making sure you’re staring daggers at his stupidly arrogant face. “Stop fucking playing with me then!” “You’re too cute.” “Fine then.” closing your legs, you stare out the window, your chin sitting on the palm of your hand. Flickering blurry lights passing by quickly. Looking at your reflection, you steal a quick glance at the flirtatious bastard. “If you’re so angry, why can’t you look away from me for 1 second?” he whispers proudly. You can’t think of a snarky remark, so you huff and look back at the window defeatedly. What a cocky arrogant little- Your bruised pride burning into ashes, you grunt in response before the car abruptly halts to its stop. Were you two too loud? “What are you two so scared for? Freezing up like a deer in headlights, we’re at your destination.” the driver said, twisting his head around, his eyebrow slightly raised. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” That was way too close to comfort, and you’re resisting the urge of banging on his chest for being so overly confident in his endeavors. You open the car door, cursing under your breath, swinging your legs out and lightly stepping out. First thing you realize in the new destination? This guy was obviously loaded. In front of you were a bunch of condos, and it was bound to cost a lot. Modern architecture was all you could see, wide windows and balconies in every corner. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about your outfit, were you too poorly dressed? The man hums, placing his hand on your shoulder. Plant life was meticulously placed in such a beautiful manner that you promise yourself that you would search up his name- if you ever got it, on the Forbes lists. “Like what you see?” Snapping out of it, you look back at him, and you nod, still astounded by his presumed riches. “Yeah? Lets go up missy, I got more to show, in more ways then one.” ‧₊˚✩彡. Standing in front of his door, you realize how quiet and still the atmosphere is. He fumbles with his keys, muttering to himself, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re about to have sex with some celebrity. Not knowing how to start conversation, you clear your throat. “You ever going to tell me your name?” “Aw, the little baby still wants my name.” he cooed “Call me Gojo.” he adds nonchalantly. “(Y/N).” you reply, ecstatic. That wasn’t too hard, but you wonder why he didn’t just give up his name to you at the club earlier. Perhaps he didn’t think he was going to take you back? “Aw, sugar. You scared?” Gojo says, looking you up and down. Well, that’s what you assumed. He still had his glasses on. “No I’m not, who said that?” “Look at your legs, missy.” he cheekily replies. Looking down, you realize you’re violently shaking, and you didn’t even realize it. “...Maybe.” you say coyly. He breathily chuckles, finally opening the door with the right key. You’re surprised by the presence of such a spotless place, a large, plush black leather couch was in one corner, the other, an island. Amazingly large windows replaced what would usually be the walls, and you could see the extent of the city life from where you’re standing. “Slip your shoes off girly, sandals on the left. Can I offer you something?” Gojo questions you, walking over to the island. “...I’m not much of a drinker.” you reply, still standing in the doorway. You were honestly more interested in him then the small talk. “Baby, sit down. Don’t you wanna see me up close?” he pats the cushioned island seats, and you sheepishly walk over. “I have apple juice too. If that’s more your vibe.” you watched him swirl some melting ice cubes around in a glass of water with a spoon. “I’m not 12.” you retort, maybe the guy wasn’t a celebrity. No famous guy has apple juice in the fridge, rather then fancy champagne and wine. Gojo snickers, “Hey, I’m not 12 either, I’m nearing my fucking 30′s but I can never reject a good box of apple juice, plus, I teach a group of kiddos that drink this shit like it’s fine wine.” You pause, this guy was NEAR 30? He certainly didn’t look the age, and second of all, he bought apple juice just for the kids he taught? That was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t explain the richness. “You’re a teacher?” you nod as he hands you a chilled box of apple juice. “Uh, yeah.” he scratches the back of his neck. “International Japanese teacher, sometimes I just teach in Japan as well. It pays good.” “No way you actually live here. Is this your friends place?” He laughs loudly, “So backhanded, and sassy! Nah, this is my place. As I said, job pays well. Feel free to stop by for a good fucking.” he says whilst pouring liquor into his glass cup. “You’re really confident in your abilities of fucking people.” you sarcastically note aloud as he slides into the comfortable tall stool next to you, drink in hand. “Hm, you weren’t saying that when I was touching you in that car, brat. How strange.” sipping his beverage lightly. Your mouth zipped shut, and he laughs again. “Aw, don’t go all awkward on me.” his once vacant hand now rubbing your shoulder. Setting down his drink, taking off his glasses. He doesn’t give you much time to admire his eyes, but what you can see is an almost aquamarine color, flecks of darker blue sprinkled throughout. So brilliantly colored it didn’t look real. Before you realize it, he leans closer into your neck, suckling your skin and lightly nibbling. His breath fanning over your delicate skin, you can’t even hold back, gasping a little as his hands played with the hem of your cardigan, tugging at it playfully. You can’t even formulate words. He was undeniably good, his suckling now gradually getting more harsher and harsher, and you dread coming back to your friends place, neck full of hickeys, you’d be nudged for whoever did that to you for the rest of your life. He grunts, standing up in the little space between what was his stool and yours, even on such a surprisingly tall stool he still towered over you. He has to slightly crouch before his eyes is at the level of your neck, hungrily crashing back down. “G-Gojo!” you squeaked, struggling to do much of anything. You’re limp on the stool, slumped and burning up. Your skin was ridiculously hot. “Hmmm?” he smiles into your neck, pausing momentarily, you can feel him exhale harshly on your skin. You look him up and down, the sexual tension between the two of you was prominent, and so was the tent in his pants. You feel a whine creep up towards your throat, now realizing just how wet you are. Ignoring this, you gesture to your clothes. The layers were sticking to you, and you never wanted anything more then to just get the sex started. “...Hot.” is all you can muster pathetically. “What was, baby?” he coos at you. “Me.” shrugging off your cardigan the best you can, you let out a subtle whine, the weird feeling growing between your legs. “Yes, we both know you’re hot.” tipping your chin upwards to look at him, he smiles. “use your words.” “Clothes.. Off.” you pant, obviously sick and tired of the stupid sexual tension and the teasing. “Full sentence, girly.” he repeats, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You inhale his scent, smelling of expensive cologne and lingering sickeningly sweet alcohol. Looking up at him, but averting your gaze as soon as you saw those incredible eyes once again. “Look at me.” he orders. You peer up at him, swallowing. “P-please, take my clothes off.” you say politely. “All it took was a few hickeys? You really are a pretty kitty.” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Get down.” You nod obediently, getting off the stool and looking back up at him, anticipating his next step. He bends down, swooping you up bridal style. One arm under your legs, gripped firmly onto the skin, the other under your waist. Your arms instinctively and rather slackly around his shoulders. You expect something, a kiss, anything, but all Gojo does is walk down an endless hallway full of doors. You lean closer into him while pouting, hoping that’ll catch his attention, but he doesn’t say a word. “Where are we going?” you finally ask, growing needy. “Bedroom. I’m not fucking on the couch. Pretty princesses deserve to be nice and comfy.” he replies back, fidgeting with the door knob. For a few seconds, all you can hear is how rapidly your heart is beating inside your chest, the rustling of clothes brushing against one another, and then the feeling sets in again. You could very well be fucking someone that was out of your league. He breathes a sigh of relief, and before you have the time to fully study his bedroom, he throws you off of the bed with a grunt. Gojo’s toned forearms by your side, you were obviously trapped. You can see his chain just dangle barely swing back and forth on the tip of your nose, his lips curled into a lukewarm smile. “You were so cheeky with me earlier, where’d she go?” stroking the corner of your lips. He doesn’t give you the time to respond, instead locking lips with you and rolling over to be on your side. It starts off small and soft first, but it gradually grew hot. The fluttering in your chest only intensified. Tongues exploring every inch of one another’s mouth, you swear you can taste mint. The anxiety melted off of you like wax, and the only thing he could focus on was how soft you felt against his lips. Delightfully experienced enough for it to be good, but not better then him. The smell of him was stronger now, and you’re sure you won’t be able to leave without some of it remaining on your clothes. Regardless, it was an addicting smell. Something you needed to come back to. Furiously exhaling through both of your noses, he finally lets go. Dazed, your whole body tingles. You want him to claim you all as your own, hungrily staring at him for more. Both of you were radiating heat. The kissing left little for thought, and all you can think about is kissing him once again. It seemed that the more you spent with him, the more demand you had for his attention. “Such cute noises. Makes me want to ravish you more.” Gojo tenderly pulls you in, claiming your mouth as his once again. Fumbling with your cardigan, yanking it off of your body. Large, hot hands brushing against your now semi-exposed skin, and you know he wants more. His hands brushed against your butt under your skirt, and you shiver just a bit. Pulling out from the kiss, he looks at you, panting heavily. “So beautiful.” he murmurs, brushing his thumb against your swollen lips. “You wanna know why they call me the best?” You nod, his arm snakes above your waist, forcefully flipping you down head first into the blankets. Just now realizing that all your clothes are no where to be found, presumably on the floor, you shiver at the cold air conditioner blowing against you. That is, besides your skirts and your tights. “On your arms, baby. Knees too.” he instructs, patting your butt. You obey, a warmth rushing to your cheeks again. He had you like a dog being trained by it’s owner, following their every order. “Good girl.” he says under his breath. You’re about to tell him that you’re still wearing tights, about to open your mouth, you heard a loud rip disturb the peaceful atmosphere, and a cold exposure to your lower regions. You squeal, digging your face into the covers, and he chuckles again. “Oh baby. You were begging for this, I can see why now.” you felt him drag his fingers against your panties, and you whimper. “So impatient for my touch, aren’t you kitty? You’ll have to wait.” About to complain, you look back at him before you find him shoving you down, sitting on your knees now, your nipples hardened in the air, but you want to be stimulated else where. “Be patient, and you’ll be rewarded, no complaining.” “But-” he cuts you off. “Don’t fucking talk over me, you got that?” “...Yes sir.” His eyes soften, and he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead before his hands brushed against your nipples, rubbing them with his thumb. Rolling the sensitive bud, you loudly moan, trying to express that you wanted more. “God, you’re so cute.” he says under his breath, still rubbing and now slightly pulling them. Placing his mouth upon the abused buds, you stifle a cry out. Gently suckling, he used his other hand to play with the other attention-starved nipple mildly. You whine out again, beginning to melt under his stupidly experienced hands and mouth. The attention was nice, but you needed it some place else, his eyes looked up at you, his wet mouth still suckling your breast. Taking his wet mouth off your nipple, he looked at you, mischief still evident on his face. “You like that?” he says, cocking his head to his side. “I-If I say anything, It’ll fill your stupid ego.” you breathed. “And if you don’t say anything I’m not doing shit.” his hand now rubbing your butt. “You ripped my tights!” you spat back. “I’ll pay for it and more, no bother babygirl. Now tell me what I want to hear.” He obviously wasn’t lying, he could probably turn any girl into putty if he just wanted to, and here you were, in the palm of his hand. “...Please touch me more.” you uttered shamelessly. “Good girl. On your back, spread those pretty little legs for me too, why don’t you?” Lying down on the plush mattress and warm pillows, you stare at the ceilings. You peered at him starting where he left off. Giving you faint, yet chaste kisses on your breasts, trailing kisses down your stomach. “Aw, your panties are absolutely fucking soaked baby, how cute.” he cooed, parting the soaked fabric to the side. You look at him undress thoughtlessly, but you’re sure he’s done this several times. He did it with little to no effort, but that would mean that you’re not special. It would be useless to think about right now, you were gonna have the dicking of your lifetime anyway, it was called a one night-stand for a reason. The mountain of clothes grew taller. Growing impatient, you look up to where he was once standing, only to find him already in between your legs. “So pretty.” Gojo purred, circling your entrance just as he had done previously in the car ride, you squeak. “So lucky this is all mine.” Gojo had figured he could add, “for the night.” but that strangely felt wrong. He dips his fingers into your walls, and you cry out. Wrapping around his digits, sobbing, this wasn’t enough to satisfy your cravings. “You want more?” he huskily said, a tone of playfulness still rampant. “Yes! Please, just fuck me!” you croaked, already damn near about to cum from the teasing. “That’s my girl.” he whispered under his breath, slipping off boxers you didn’t even realize were there in the first place. He doesn’t give you a chance to see his full length, instead ramming inside of you. You inhale sharply at the sudden disruption. The throbbing evaporated into thin air, and you’re desperately grabbing at the sheets to steady yourself. Sweaty and sticky skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room, along with your moans and his grunts. You could feel him reaching heights that you would never be able to do with the dildos you had at your house, much less your fingers. One hand on your waist to steady your flailing body, the other, roughly groping your breast. You were finding it hard to think, pleasure and euphoria filling your senses. Unknowingly, you wrap yourself around Gojo even harder then before. “Fuck, baby, I can barely pull out.” he panted. “you’re too tight.” You can’t even begin to respond, still deep in your state of pleasure, instead responding incoherently with a jumble of delicate moans and gasps in between. “C-cum!” “Hm? Repeat that princess?” he soothed. You’re unable to respond again, instead you try to lift your head up, and Gojo feels himself throb again, watching your eyes flutter back. It’s not until it’s too late, realizing a hot fluid flow down your holes. He pulls out, he himself ejaculating on your stomach. Both muscles stretched taut, you both laid on the bedsheets, sweating and panting. “Fuck, I haven’t had a girl like you in a while.” he says, turning his head to look at you. Strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “R-Really?” he kissed your forehead, tipping your chin with his long fingers. “Yes, really. I’m so lucky I spotted such a pretty little thing at a club.” The sun was starting to rise, you note, and you realize just how perfect his body is with the new light. A sudden warmth on your cheeks, you look down, still panting. “Clubs aren’t my thing.” you said breathlessly. “Fuck. It’s 5 AM” he says, eyes now glued to his phone, ruffling his white hair. “I’ll go-” “No, here, lets take a shower with each other, and then we sleep.” “Okay.” you responded, hoping to not make conversation, still believing that he was a celebrity. He handed you his phone, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I get your number?” “...Why?” you questioned. “...To call you back again, duh.” he teases, rubbing your head. No way, he wanted you back at his house? You? Not wanting to fuck up your chances, you nod, something was growing inside of you, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, but you knew he made you feel special.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk headcanons #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #dom gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojou x you #fanfic #fic #anime fic #im learning how to write well ok

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anxiousgaypanicking · 3 years

Text

What You Need (Intrulogical)

Two days without eating and three without sleeping sounded like the normal schedule for college student Logan Berry. He's in class all day and works all night just to barely pay off his rent every month. Constant bills leave little room for bare necessities, and it's clear that his current lifestyle is very damaging. While looking for solutions, he comes across one that seems... mediocre at best, but he's desperate. What is this solution? A sugar daddy.

this is a sugar daddy story. that means there will be sex. kinky sex, especially further on. im not going to put a warning at the beginning of each chapter so heres your warning for the entire book. each new chapter will most likely have a different smut scene, so read with caution

Also! This is a copy of my story from wattpad that im posting here because i want to get into using tumblr :DD so... pog!

Part 1

"You look like shit," Janus comments, taking a seat next to Logan in their lecture hall. Logan can hardly muster a groan in response, leaning uncomfortably over his notebook in order to review the notes he had taken the day before.

He looks up at Janus, giving Janus a good look at the bags under Logan's eyes, no doubt from him being forced to stay up all night working.

"Another night shift?" Janus questions, and Logan nods.

It's all he could take, due to the fact he had school in the mornings and studied for a bit after school. But, he had to make money somehow, seeing as getting evicted and/or starving was out of the question.

Janus sighs, kicking his feet up onto the table in front of them, earning a glare from Logan.

"That's not proper classroom etiquette, you know," he grumbles, which earns a grin from Janus.

"And? What are you gonna do about it?" Janus asks, sass clear in his voice. When Logan rolls his eyes and sets his head down on the desk, Janus laughs. "That's what I thought. Absolutely nothing."

"Why do I put up with you again?"

"Even I don't know the answer to that question." Janus snickers, as the room slowly fills up. There's not many kids, so they're all spread out in the hall. Most people sit apart; hardly any of them even have the energy to become acquainted with each other.

The professor walks in minutes later, announcing his presence with an over-exaggerated "good morning class" that makes both Logan and Janus groan.

Logan picks his head up off his desk, rubbing away the drool that had pooled on the front of his notebook, before he opened it up.

The professor spoke way too fast, and Janus didn't even try to listen, while Logan's tired brain tried to keep up with everything that was being said. Janus went back and forth between zoning out and musing at Logan's determined attitude.

Despite the fact it was early, and Logan was clearly tired, he still valued his education and everything the professor said.

After this class, they had another one. In fact, their entire day was filled with classes, as that was the way school worked.

What a shame.

Janus and Logan had very different classes, with their morning lesson being the only one they shared, but that tiny bit of social interaction was enough to keep them from living their college life in complete solitude, so it was enough.

Logan went through today like he went through every day; a groggy mindset and the school's free, cheap coffee being both his source of hydration and the thing keeping him awake.

He participated when he could, but that wasn't often. More often than not he had his face buried in his notebook, frantically scribbling down notes in an attempt to keep up with his professors, and jot down his own thoughts.

Normally, he could work fast, but it's hard to focus on so little sleep and sustenance.

After school, Logan sluggishly walked home, as per usual. He'd have a couple hours to study (or sleep) before he had to head to work.

And normally, he would do either of those things, but upon walking into his dinky apartment, grabbing a cup (which was one of the two he owned - flatware is expensive), and filling it with some questionable tap water, he decided he really had to look into more ways to make money.

With a sigh, he set his cup down, moving to his tiny couch instead. It was uncomfortable to sit on; stiff to the touch. He pulls his computer out of his backpack; it was one of the nicer things he owned, and his parents helped him buy it seeing as he needed one for school.

It was old, and very outdated, but it worked, and that was enough.

He patiently waits for the search engine to load up (understanding that his apartment's cheap wi-fi ran slowly, but he didn't have the money for his own router so this would have to do) before typing in "what are quick ways to make money?"

He was provided with a bunch of job options that he didn't even bother looking at.

He already had a job; he definitely didn't have time for a second one. Not with his already full schedule.

So why was he even looking? Did he want to gamble? Or join some sort of pyramid scheme? Maybe he was just looking to make sure there was nothing better out there.

And that's almost the conclusion he came to, until he came across a site that had "sugar daddy" in the URL. A sugar daddy...? Logan, surprisingly, didn't know what that was.

He clicks the link, opening a new tab as well to look up what a sugar daddy was while the link loaded.

He scans over the definition.

"A rich, older man who lavishes gifts on young people in return for their company or, more typically, sexual favors."

His face scrunches up. Money in return for sex? Isn't that... isn't that prostitution? Isn't that illegal?

Surprisingly, no. It's one of the few exceptions to that law. And Logan stares at that link for a few seconds, considering it.

Well...

He sighs, closing his computer, as he sinks deeper into the uncomfortable couch. He lets his eyes rest for a second, momentarily soothing the burning that's always there nowadays.

He can't let himself fall asleep, though, as he knows there's always the possibility he'll sleep through his alarm, and he can't even risk getting fired from his job. That was currently his only source of income, which helped him pay bills and get some food every once in a while.

With a sigh, he reopened his eyes, and his computer, bringing him to a sign in page on the sugar daddy website.

Was he actually considering this?

...yes.

He quickly types in his name and age, as well as inputting his gender, and inserting a profile picture (albeit a very awkward one), before typing up a short bio.

"I just don't want to starve."

Yeah, mood.

Afterwards, he's brought to a Tinder-esque screen, showing other profiles with a red thumbs down and a green thumbs up on the bottom of the screen. When Logan hovered his mouse over them, they lit up, showing they were buttons.

"Hmm," he hummed, pushing his glasses up as he scans over the first profile, already cringing at the age. "67." Yikes.

Well, he'll do what he has to, but maybe with someone a little bit younger... if there even were any younger people on here. Logan honestly was hoping for a miracle, unrealistically so.

But, he pressed the thumbs-down button nonetheless, deciding he'd at least try.

"58." Eh.

"49." Getting better...

"23."

Woah. Twenty-three? This fucker was only a couple years older than Logan was.

Logan quickly skimmed over their profile. The profile picture was blurry, and normally Logan would take that as a bad sign, but he was desperate.

"Remus Prince, 23

here for a fun and sexy time ;))) will treat my sweet lil baby right ;000"

Well, it was childish, and Logan found himself slightly annoyed with the usage of emoticons and the improper capitalization, but, he really would rather sleep with a younger man.

With one final re-evaluation of this decision, he clicks the thumbs-up button, taking him to a chat feature. Oh, interesting.

Logan, who was pretty socially stunted, hummed, as he tried to figure out an appropriate way to start this conversation.

'Hey.'

Well, that was a good start. He set his computer to the side, standing up to grab his cup of water and carry it back to the couch. When he sat down, he saw he already had a reply. Damn, did people just have constant free time?

'hey there cutie ;))'

'i take it ur lookin for a daddy <33??'

No, Logan was just on this website for fun. He rolled his eyes, and then cringed at the idea of referring to this man as his 'daddy.' Ew. He'd stick to Remus for now.

'In a sense, yes, assuming your referring to the 'title.''

He had to be sure.

'pfft- nerd'

';) just joking'

'and yes, that is what i meant smh. so when do you wanna meet, baby?'

Logan frowned slightly at being called 'baby,' not being able to properly identify how it made him feel. Weird, definitely. Ugh, this was all confusing and, God, he couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

'Tomorrow,' Logan answers. before providing the time after he'd be out of school. They could talk in the few hours Logan had before work, and perhaps he could get a better sense on what being a sugar baby was going to be like.

Remus accepts (adding many unnecessary emojis and emoticons along with a simple "that works"), and Logan sighs as he shut his computer yet again.

He discards it in favor of pulling out his notebook and reviewing the notes he had taken today.

School took his priority until his job started, and provided a good distraction from the now looming concept of meeting his future sugar daddy.

Wow, he still couldn't believe he actually resorted to a solution like that. This option is.... mediocre at best.

It was so unlike him, but desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposes.

In order to distract himself, and also kill some time before he has to head into work, he studies the notes he had made, repeating and re-writing in an effort to burn them into his memory. He does this for a couple hours, up until his phone rings. It's an alarm, labelled "get ready for work."

He ends up doing just that, combing through his hair and quickly scrubbing his face in order to look more presentable. He then fixes his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles and trading out his tie for his work apron. He didn't put it on right away, as he still had to walk to work, but he did fold it neatly over his arm.

He speed-walks to his job, and works throughout the night.

Of course, he was aware of the recommended eight-to-ten hours of sleep people were supposed to get in order to be healthy, but Logan had been functioning just fine on the three hours of sleep he got daily (if even that).

Logically, three hours was a complete sleep cycle. It's just recommended by doctors that people get three cycles.

But Logan didn't have the time to sleep for nine hours a night. Not unless he wanted to drop out of college and move back in with parents (both of which he definitely did not want to do).

He completes the tedious tasks his work gives him, hardly socializing with any of his co-workers, all of which looked equally as tired as he did, before heading home. Perhaps one would be more afraid of walking home alone in the middle of the damn night, but Logan knew the sun would rise in half an hour or so. That, and at least kidnappers would give him a temporary relief from work and school.

And murder would permanently relieve him from both! There was no downside.

When he gets back to his apartment, he folds up his apron and puts it away, before packing all his notes and supplies back into his bag. He checks himself in the bathroom as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

The purple bags on his eyes were growing increasingly prominent. That wasn't great.

He checks his phone after a moment, before humming as he trudged back into the living room and slipped on his shoes, deciding that he'd try and sleep after school today-

Nope! He groaned, as he remembered his meeting with that sugar daddy. What was his name again? Logan tried to think back to it, before his phone rang, the alarm for school going off, distracting him. He dismisses it, adjusting his bag, before heading out the door. Curse morning classes.

He ends up in the lecture hall earlier than most everyone else, as per usual, although Janus is already at his seat. Legs kicked up on the table. As per usual.

"Good morning," Logan greets him, setting his bag down and pulling out his notes.

Janus hums in response, scrolling through his phone. His phone that Logan had never seen before.

"Is that a new phone?" Logan questions, raising an eyebrow. He knew Janus had more access to money than he did (as he often came to school with new rings or fancy tailored clothes) but there was nothing wrong with his old one.

Janus looks at Logan, momentarily confused, before he blinks in realization of the question. "Oh, yeah. It looked cool, and my old one was a bit slow."

"Ah."

Logan couldn't even imagine just spending money carelessly on himself. His phone, while outdated and cracked, could still call, text, and set alarms. If it wasn't broken, why would he need a new one?

With that short exchange, both of them went back to their own devices (literally, in Janus's case) as they wait for class to start.

However, Logan finds that he can't focus, instead thinking about what this afternoon's meeting would have in store for him. The sugar daddy - who Logan had remembered was named Remus - seemed flirtatious over text (although Logan was bad at identifying romantic social cues due to lack of exposure, so he could have just been really friendly), but Logan couldn't picture meeting him.

The unpredictability of the event annoyed him, and what annoyed him even more was that he didn't even know what Remus looked like! His profile picture was blurry and extremely hard to make out.

Guess he'd discover what he looked like upon meeting him, as that wasn't dangerous.

He tries to focus throughout class, once again leaning over his work and scribbling rapid notes, but his mind can only listen to the teacher for so long before he's thinking about the meeting again.

Ugh, if he knew he was going to be this distracted by an interaction that hasn't even happened yet, he would just not have scheduled the meeting at all.

Janus seemed to notice that Logan wasn't focusing solely on the class as he usually would, but didn't ask about it. He didn't want to intrude, and he knew Logan would probably give a vaguely concerning answer anyway.

So, instead, Janus left Logan to sort through his own problems alone, like any half-decent friend probably would.

Logan ends up being distracted throughout the rest of the day. Funny how one instance can absorb all of one's mental energy. He still paid attention as well as he could (as he would have otherwise been upset with himself), but near the end of the school day, he finds himself rather antsy. He's not nervous, despite the fact he has fair reason to be. No, he's overly curious, and eager to live through a new experience.

Even if he was unhappy about how his life had managed to come to this. Not that there was really anything he could do about it, without throwing his life out of order.

At the end of the day, he walked home as quickly as he could. He needed time to himself to prepare for Remus's arrival. Not physically, as he looked presentable enough in that regard, but mentally.

When he gets back to his apartment, he checks his phone for the time, before tossing his bag near the couch. There's still about ten minutes until the time Logan requested meeting Remus at, but he's anxiously awaiting his arrival nonetheless.

Those ten minutes pass, and Logan has pulled out his schoolbook, reviewing equations for the upcoming exam in his science class. Another ten minutes go by as Logan gets immersed in the material, before there's a knock on the door.

Logan blinks, drawn out of his finally focused state, before he checks the time. Ten minutes past when he and Remus had scheduled.

Was he late? If he was, that wouldn't be the best start to a first impression.

Logan got up and opened his door, revealing a tall, thin man with pale skin and messy brown hair. He was wearing a pale green tank top and cargo shorts, and had brown eyes that seemed almost red when the light hit them right.

He also had a thin mustache gracing the space above his top lip.

The man grinned and leaned against Logan's door frame.

"Heya there, babes," he greets, before just walking inside. Logan's too stunned to really say anything, so all he can do is shut the door behind him. "You're Logan Berry, yeah?"

It takes Logan a moment to find his voice, so jarred by the young man in front of him. He looked younger than Logan. And not as rich or as fancy as Logan had pictured him. He honestly expected a well-groomed man in a regal suit to show up to his door.

Yet, he was greeted with... this.

"Yeah," Logan answers, after a moment. "I take it you're... Remus."

"Bingo, baby!" Remus says, with a grin, as his hands find Logan's waist. That, mixed with the nickname, made Logan feel weird.

An unidentifiable way, but mostly just hot.

Remus snickers. "Man, you're cute. I really lucked out, huh?"

"Uh, I guess," Logan responds, standing stiff in Remus's hold. "You look younger than I expected."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Logan averts his gaze and shrugs, feeling awkward and inexperienced in this situation. And everything was moving very fast; Logan had no time to process and retain a lot of the information being thrown his way.

"Yeah, that's fair. I just know some people have a kink for age differences. Although, you're the same age I am, so I guess that wouldn't make much sense."

Logan listened to him talk, eyebrow raising slightly at the age kink comment.

He knew what the definition of a kink was, but an age kink...?

"Ah," Logan says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. There's silence for a moment, before Remus snickers again.

"Wow, you're really awkward."

"And you're really blunt," Logan counters, knowing that Remus is right. He doesn't know what to do here; he's never been in this situation before.

Remus laughs at Logan's words though, pulling him closer, which causes Logan to flush at the contact. He... he had never been this physically close to anyone before.

"Are you blushing?" comes Remus's voice, and Logan just sighs.

"Clearly."

Remus backs up a bit, his hands moving from Logan's waist to his face, cupping it, before tilting it this way and that way. Logan looks confused, and still unsure of what to do with his own hands.

Remus's peppy face falls for a moment, looking like he was studying Logan, before he clears his throat.

"Have you ever had a sugar daddy before?" he asks, and Logan wonders if it's really that obvious. He would have brought it up at some point anyway, because he's confused as hell, but this works.

"No."

Remus hums. "Have you ever had sex before?"

"No."

"Have you ever been in a relationship before?"

Yes, platonically, but Logan could tell that he meant romantically, which prompted Logan to answer "no."

Remus laughed, his face lighting back up. "Damn, you're new to all of this then! This'll be fun."

Fun? What did that have to do with Logan being new to this whole ordeal?

"So, you do at least know what having a sugar daddy means, right?" Remus asks, as he pulls Logan to the couch via an arm around his waist.

He expects to sit down next to him, but he ends up getting pulled into Remus's lap before he can even process what's happening.

However, Remus does finally take the time to ask "you're comfortable with this, right?"

"Having a sugar daddy?"

Remus snorts, his hands rubbing Logan's thighs. "Well, partially. I was more so referring to me being all touchy. It's technically part of the job, ya know, sex for money and all that, but since you're new to this, it's worth making sure."

Logan has to think about that for a genuine minute, because he is indeed new to this, and it's making him feel weird, but he decides it's a good kind of weird.

So he nods. "Yeah. I suppose I'm comfortable with this. It's just new to me."

Remus grins, his hands sliding back up to Logan's waist and pulling him closer. "Are you comfortable with kissing, too?"

Logan's face flushes involuntarily at the question, and at the sight of Remus smirking at him with hungry eyes.

"I- well- I've never kissed anyone before."

"Virgin in all regards, huh? Don't worry, I'll teach you all there is to know. Perks of the job." Remus cups his face, his voice lowered. "Provided I have your consent, of course."

Logan gulps, his face hot, as he nods.

"Verbal consent, Lo."

"Yeah- yeah you have my consent."

Remus smiles, before leaning it fully, pressing his lips against Logan's. Logan still feels awkward, and unsure of what to do, but he guessed the best way to learn would be to just do what he thought he should.

So, he moves his own hands, which were previously laying lax in his lap, onto Remus's shoulders, and Remus grins into the kiss, before tilting his head and deepening it. His tongue slips past Logan's lips, before Logan suddenly pulls away.

"What was that?" Logan asks, before Remus has the chance to ask if he's okay.

Remus looks puzzled for a moment, before he grins. "That was french kissing, silly. Man, despite looking like a nerd, you're really clueless."

Logan frowns, which prompts Remus to kiss him yet again.

"I just don't understand this. I need to do more research on it, it seems," Logan says, mostly muttering to himself. Perhaps it would have been better if he researched kissing and sexual techniques. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so inexperienced in this situation.

However, Remus seems to disagree. "What you need," he begins, his hands on Logan's waist suddenly tightening. "Is for me to take care of you." He suddenly changes their position, pinning Logan to the couch, while Remus smirks over top of him. "Lucky for you, I'm surprisingly good at that."

Logan's face is dark red, and he's speechless yet again. But he doesn't need to talk, as Remus's lips reconnect with his, and Logan closes his eyes and lets himself relax into it. His normally stiff shoulders ease, and his arms slide back around Remus's shoulders, subconsciously pulling him closer.

Once again, Remus deepens the kiss, but this time Logan was at least expecting it. What he wasn't expecting were Remus's hands untucking his shirt and sliding up it. He shivers at Remus's hands running up his chest, before moaning when they reach his nipples.

Remus snickers, as he breaks the kiss. "Damn, you're really cute, Logan."

"Uh-huh," Logan responds, arching his chest into Remus's touch, as they pinch and twist at his nipples. "You've said that already."

"I'm gonna keep reinforcing the idea," Remus says, sticking out his tongue. Then he helps Logan take his shirt off all the way, fully exposing Logan's chest.

"Wow, you're very thin," Remus comments, hands lightly running over Logan's ribs, which were way more prominent than is healthy. "How often do you eat?"

"I'm not the best at reading social cues, but are you sure this is the best time to ask that question?"

Remus stares at him for a moment, before shrugging. "Not necessarily, but after this I'm buying us dinner."

"What?" Logan says, as he sits up slightly. "Why?"

Remus looks at him if he's stupid, before remembering that Logan is new to this. "Okay, so, this is probably not the best time to give a lesson, but sugar daddies pay their sugar babies for sex. I thought you'd at least know that."

"I did. I thought that was money."

"Well, it can just be money, but they also get paid in other things. Like jewelry and clothes, or food. Necessities and gifts."

"Oh," Logan says, as he pushes up his glasses. "I suppose that makes sense. You don't have to though."

"Don't have to do what?"

"Buy dinner."

And once again, Remus looks at him as if he's stupid. "Logan, we're literally about to have sex. This agreement - the one between daddies and babies - is we have sex and then I pay you. Me not paying you would sort of defeat the whole purpose."

Logan blinks, before just nodding. Yeah, that seems fair.

Remus seems happy the conversation is over, as his attention turns back to Logan's chest. He leans down and licks a stripe up it, an action that Logan would cringe at if he didn't find it weirdly hot.

Remus's mouth then latches onto one of his nipples, tongue messing with it, before he sucks lightly around it. Logan's hands gripped tighter at Remus's shoulders, his nails accidentally digging into his back, and he lets out a moan that makes him slap a hand over his mouth afterwards, his face dark red.

It's not his fault his body was so sensitive. Remus's touches just felt so good. And the way he was eyeing up at Logan made him flush darker.

Logan had to look away, tucking his face into the crook of his elbow as Remus moved away from his nipple and turned his attention to Logan's pants instead. He quickly makes work of unbuttoning his cheap jeans before tugging them down and tossing them to the side, hardly hesitating before pulling Logan's boxers down as well, his embarrassingly hard cock springing up at the action.

He feels strangely vulnerable under Remus, as he's now naked and on display while Remus is still fully clothed.

And Remus is eyeing up and down, licking his lips, as if Logan's his next meal.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Remus asks, and Logan gulps and nods.

"Yes, I'm sure," he says. It's for the money; that's why he took the offer in the first place, but now he found himself extremely curious about the situation he had gotten himself into.

Remus nods at his answer, reaching into the pocket of his shorts, before pulling out a small bottle and a small, square package. Noticing the curious look Logan gave the bottle, he hands it to him, before working to pull off his own clothes.

"Lube," Logan states, while reading the bottle. Unsurprisingly, he didn't learn about safe gay sex in school, because all they teach, if they teach sex at all, is straight sex.

Which is stupid, considering not everyone is straight, but whatever.

"You need it," Remus explains, pulling his shirt off. "It's to make sure you don't feel pain while I fuck you. Also to keep your asshole from tearing. It's a necessity for anal sex."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Remus hums, working to unbutton his pants. "I always carry a bottle considering some people just don't have it lying around, and nothing else should be used as a substitute."

He snickers as Logan reads over the small print over the bottle.

"Like you, for example. You look like you've never seen lube in your life."

"I haven't."

"Yeah, makes sense."

Logan hands the bottle back when Remus reaches for it, only then fully realizing that Remus was just as nude as he was.

He takes a moment to scan over Remus's body. He's thin, as Logan could tell when he first arrived, but he's also paler underneath his clothes. He has a few scars littering his chest, arms, and legs.

Logan would ask what they were from if Remus didn't immediately snicker.

"See something you like?" he asks, playfully, earning an eye-roll from Logan.

"Not necessarily."

"Ouch, you wound me, Logan."

Logan rolls his eyes again, before going back to evaluating Remus's body. Mainly, just trying to study it enough to commit it to memory, while Remus works on squirting some lube onto his fingers.

Logan's eyes shamelessly look towards Remus's cock, eyes widening slightly at the sight of it.

His own cock was a little above average, but Remus's was definitely bigger than his. That thing was going to go inside him?

The thought made Logan shiver and blush involuntarily, but Remus didn't seem to notice, instead grabbing Logan's thigh with his clean hand and lifting it up slightly.

"What are you doing?" Logan asks, still propped up on his elbows, as Remus grazes his teeth over Logan's thigh.

"I'm going to stretch you," Remus says with a hum. "Since you're new to this, and specifically a virgin, it's important to prep you before you take my big cock." It's said semi-seriously and semi-flirty, but Remus's tone is enough to make Logan go red in the face.

He himself couldn't believe he was blushing at some flirty words and a few sensual touches, but alas, he was.

"Okay?" Remus asks, drawing Logan out of his thoughts. Logan nods, before responding with "yeah, okay."

Remus smiles, before slowly easing one finger into Logan. Logan gasps at the feeling, hands grasping the stiff cushion beneath him.

It felt... weird. Not bad, but definitely strange.

Remus slowly pushes the finger in and out of him, before sliding another finger in him, scissoring him open. Remus seems pretty focused on making sure Logan's properly stretched, but he also takes the time to nip at Logan's thighs, earning a few gasps and grunts from Logan.

He'd leave a few hickeys over his body, but he wanted to make sure Logan was comfortable with sex before he did anything a bit more extreme. He'd have to ask Logan about some of his kinks and boundaries when they weren't literally about to fuck so he could plan ahead.

Remus ends up pushing a third finger in, steadily pumping them in and out of Logan, before Logan tries to roll his hips down involuntarily, feeling the urge to get more pleasure.

Remus grins at this, before pulling his fingers out, earning a whine from Logan.

Remus shushes him with a quick kiss, wiping his fingers against Logan's couch (not like Logan noticed anyway) as he quickly tears open the condom package. He doesn't break the kiss as he spreads Logan's thighs apart, one of them being smashed against the vertical cushions, and the other was practically dangling off the couch.

"You gotta relax for me, okay baby?" Remus says, voice smooth, as Remus quickly works to lube the condom up as an extra precaution, before he lines his cock up with Logan's entrance. Logan nods, not sure what he's about to feel (assuming it'll feel at least similar to Remus's fingers) so he's partially unsure of how to brace himself.

He's surprised, however, as Remus's cock slowly slides into him, and he tenses as his hands tightly grip the couch.

"You okay?" Remus asks, hands slowly massaging Logan's thighs. "You're not in any pain, right?" He sounds slightly concerned, although he really still just seems casual.

"No- no pain," Logan breathes out, biting his lip. "It's just... weird. I'm not used to it."

"You'll get used to it eventually," Remus responds, with a grin. "Provided you wanna stick with me."

Logan rolls his eyes, as this was definitely not the right time to even mention that, considering Remus's cock was halfway inside of him at this moment

Remus is still for a moment though, giving Logan a moment to adjust and to completely process what was happening.

After a minute or so, Logan finally nods his head, his body relaxing completely.

"Good?" Remus asks, his hands sliding until they reach Logan's hips. His hands grip there a bit firmer, and Logan shifts slightly, before answering "good."

Remus's hands hold tight to Logan's waist, as he manages to slide his cock in fully.

Logan lets out a whine as it's fully inside of him, his hands moving to tightly grip Remus's shoulders. Remus rubs his hips, before leaning down to kiss over Logan's collarbone.

He still wants to bite down, and he doesn't hesitate to drag his teeth over the unhealthily prominent bone, but he resists biting. For now, at least.

When Logan starts shifting a bit to get more friction, Remus smirks, and he slides his cock halfway out, before thrusting harshly back in, causing Logan to let out a high moan.

Remus's smirk grows, as Logan bites his lip, his nails digging into Remus's shoulders.

"Remus," he breathes out, head laid back against the cushions, silently begging him to do that again. He'd verbally ask himself if not for the weird feeling inside of him that sent blood rushing to his face, which provided a pretty sight for Remus.

Remus obviously understood (he'd had enough sex to understand cues), as he pulls out again, almost fully this time, before slamming back into him, causing Logan's back to arch, as he cries out Remus's name, his legs closing instinctively around Remus's waist, effectively pulling him closer.

Although, Remus didn't seem to mind that much, as he connects their lips for a messier than usual kiss, as Remus had begun thrusting into Logan at a steady, albeit slow, pace. And while it wasn't as extreme Remus could go, or wanted to go, it was a lot for Logan, especially all at once and so suddenly in his life.

But, it's not like he could exactly complain in between all the pathetic noise involuntarily spilling from his mouth. Babbles of nonsense, as his body is introduced to more and more exciting stimulation.

Then, Remus suddenly hits something inside of him that shoots pleasure up his spine, his eyes rolling back into his head as his toes curl, as he whines out Remus's name.

"That spot feel good, baby?" Remus asks him, and Logan can only nod in response, his eyes now screwed shut in pleasure as Remus continues to thrust into that spot, earning loud moans and pitiful begs from Logan.

"Fuck..." Remus mutters, his nails digging into Logan's hips, puncturing the skin slightly. Logan would complain about how the germs from Remus's hands could potentially cause the very small wounds to become infected, if he wasn't too busy drooling and moaning.

"You close, Lo?" Remus grunts out, earning a gasped out "yes!"

Remus chuckles lowly, as one of his hands releases Logan's hip and instead grabs hold of his red cock, stroking it fast and irregularly compared to his thrusts. The action had Logan moaning, before he comes across his chest with a whine of Remus's name.

Remus, however, doesn't stop the assault on his cock, continuing to stroke it and thrust into Logan mercilessly. Logan whines at the overstimulation, laying lax against the couch as he continues to let Remus please himself, before Remus's nails dig hard into him and he groans, coming into the condom.

He stays inside of Logan for a moment, both of them catching their breaths, before he pulls out, sliding the condom off and tying it shut, before he gets up to go find a trashcan to toss it in.

When he comes back to the couch, Logan's eyes are shut, glasses askew on his face.

"Logan," he says, as he grabs his clothes and starts sliding them back on, ignoring the fact he was covered in sweat and had just gotten done having sex.

He receives no answer, so he gently pokes Logan's cheek after gathering all his stuff. "Logan?"

Still nothing. He hums, before shrugging. If he was tired enough to sleep, might as well let him sleep. He did end up stalking around his small, and rather poor looking apartment though, in search of a blanket. He finds one, neatly folded on the edge of Logan's bed, and he smiles as he brings it back into the living room. He pays no mind to the fact Logan's covered in come as he drapes the blanket over him.

Then, he pulls out his wallet, and sets multiple bills on the table, placing a half-full cup of water that was sitting on the table already on top of it, to keep it in place.

Then, whistling a strangely eerie tune, he walked off, making sure to lock Logan's apartment door behind him, for Logan's sake.

And, damn, this would be one hell of a thing to wake up and remember.

Part 2

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