#BUT HAD TO GIVE YOU AN HEARTACHE

[alrightbuckaroo]

Happy Sunday, everyone! Hope the sun is shining wherever you are :) Thanks for the tags @carlos-in-glasses, @welcometololaland, @sznofthesticks, @heartstringsduet, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-tk, @orchidscript, @paperstorm, @strandnreyes, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @freneticfloetry, and @janto4ev! I've been steady working on the Time Loop AU so here's a little something from that:

Carlos assumes his frustration is born out of the trickle of thoughts that started to flow during his drive over. He's been forced to remember everything he's had to unlearn because of this break-up.

He had to unlearn waking up and being greeted by the sun before ever opening a blind. He had to unlearn making dinner for two at table that’s too big for one. He had to unlearn how to say the name “Tyler” with a song in his voice.

Carlos had to unlearn what it meant to feel safe with someone; with another man, and he doesn’t know if he can ever truly forgive TK for that.

When he pulls into the hospital parking lot, he decides it’s best that he gets a handle on his emotions.

At the end of the day, TK is hurt; and while Carlos is too, it isn’t about him. He shouldn’t create a scene even though every act of this play hasn’t been written in his favor.

open tag + no pressure tag under the cut :)

@reyesstrand, @theghostofashton, @thebumblecee, @three-drink-amy, @lightningboltreader, @louis-ii-reyes-strand, @bonheur-cafe, @basilsunrise, @never-blooms, @redshirt2, @sanjuwrites, @ambiguouspenny, @herefortarlos, @your-catfish-friend and @rmd-writes

[ronkeyroo]

How do you call it when you want to sigh deeply but in a pleasant way but also scream and slam the wall at the same time but also you generally feel good but like STUFF STILL BUGS YOU and there are alot of intrusive memories and bad people you want to literally turn into paste but also you already came to terms that they’re nobodies and my life looks so much better now without their garbage presence and i’ve been super productive too??? finishing two wonderful sculptures and commission work and had a gorgeous meal with my wonderful partner AND THE DAY WAS WONDERFUL BUT IT STILL FEELS BITTERSWEET AND I STILL WANT TO AHGHFGGGHHHHHH

[kacchanofficial]

mha epilogue leaks are killing both jp and us fans on twitter rn and as katsuki kin im *insert katsuki dead in a sticky trap*

like hori what do you MEAN BY THIS WHAT IS THIS WHAT WAS THAT

[imaginedisish]

Lover, You Should've Come Over (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Get ready to cry. This is based on a request I received yesterday where the reader gets jealous of Jean. I tried to take this in a different direction just because I feel like this is a popular trope that has been done by many fantastic writers. It's also inspired by "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: You've been pining after Logan since you joined the X-Men, and you're convinced he'll never love you back. He’s obsessed with Jean—always has been. Or...maybe he's not.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV (unprotected...pls WRAP IT UP THIS IS FICTION!), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, f!reader/afab!reader, telepathic!reader, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan (kinda? yeah.), non-canon compliant (you'll see what I mean...no spoilers), cursing, angst, feelings, implied mutant trauma (kinda a given in X-Men), probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,197 sorry

Wanting someone you can’t have—it’s that crying in the shower, pulling your legs into your chest, screaming into your pillow kind of heartache. You’ve come to know the feeling intimately. It’s an awful, horrid, stomach-churning kind of pain.

But you want him. Despite all the pain, you want him. Logan Howlett. You can’t seem to keep him off your mind. For the few months you’ve been one of the X-Men, Logan has been a constant. He’s always there—whether it’s to train or just to talk. But you know he’ll never want you. You see the way he looks at Jean. You wish you didn’t. You wish you were oblivious to that sort of thing. But you don’t need to use your telepathy to reach inside his mind for proof—you just know. 

You keep holding on, savoring every moment, every interaction you have with Logan. You sit on the lawn of the mansion with him, watching the sunset. You’ll come down to the living room late at night to find him sitting in front of the T.V. and join him. Sometimes he’ll drape an arm around your shoulder. He’ll draw circles into your side as you drift off. You’ll wake up the next morning back in your bed, Logan having carried you there long after you’ve fallen asleep. 

You’ve decided you’ll take all he’ll give you, even if it means nothing to him—even if it's platonic. 

But tonight, you wish something would come up through the floor and swallow you whole. A void, a black hole maybe. That would do the trick. Disappearing would make everything so much easier. The second-best thing to disappearing is sitting in the kitchen of the mansion, alone, with a pint of ice cream. You decide to practice your powers, moving the silver spoon with your mind, concentrating as you dig the spoon into the top of the pint and into your mouth. 

You hear a warm, familiar chuckle from the doorway as the spoon lands on your tongue. You look up, and there’s Logan, arms tucked across his chest. “Wish I could do that.”

You can’t help but smile around the spoon as he strides over to you, taking a seat on the stool next to yours. You slide the spoon out of your mouth and rest it on the napkin next to the ice cream. “Hey,” you mutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

His shoulder brushes against yours. He’s so close it hurts. You try to shove the pain down and enjoy the moment. 

“Was hoping I’d run into you down here. Thought maybe you’d be in bed already,” Logan says, his eyes locked on yours. 

You shake your head, doing your best to keep that fake smile plastered on your face. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You can see the sudden concern appear on his face. “Everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. Fuck, you think to yourself. Maybe he’s catching on. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, looking down at the ice cream. “Just still having a hard time adjusting.” It wasn’t a lie. You had always struggled with your powers, longing to hide, to shove them down. Your whole life, you were either a freak or something to be used—whatever was most convenient in the moment. The struggle between visibility and forcing yourself to be “normal” was an impossible battle. You were no stranger to being taken advantage of or being experimented on.

Logan was the first person who understood that—understood you. He made you feel seen in a way that no one ever had. It’s part of the reason you’ve fallen so hard for him. 

His hand is suddenly on your back, yanking you from your thoughts and back to reality. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Whatever you need, anything.” 

Anything. You wish he really meant it. 

“Thanks, Lo.” You smile up at him, letting your eyes linger on his lips for just a second before looking back down at the ice cream. “Want some?” You ask, nodding at the pint. 

“Only if you feed it to me the way you did when I walked in.” You can hear the smirk in his voice as he taps the spoon. You side-eye him incredulously. “I mean it. Wanna see you do it again.” There’s a husk in his voice, a shift in his timber that sends a chill down your spine. You try not to think about it too much as you pick up the spoon with your mind. 

You guide the spoon inside the pint, scraping the top, and lifting it up towards Logan’s mouth. He opens wide as you lead the spoon inside, his tongue hitting the bottom as his lips close around it. The implications of the moment don’t dawn on you until he’s grabbing the spoon with his hands and sucking on the metal. There’s something undeniably suggestive about this. 

Heat rises to your chest as you replay the image of him taking the spoon into his mouth in your mind. It’s so intimate, so domestic. And, certainly, something else—something that makes you tick, that makes that familiar fire grow deep within your belly. 

But—like always—the moment doesn’t last long. You wince, feeling someone itching against your thoughts, prodding at your mental shields, begging to be let in. Suddenly, there’s another voice in your mind. 

I gotta try that myself. You flinch at the sound, taking the spoon from Logan’s hand and shooting it across the room to where you sense the person’s presence. You turn around, and there’s Jean, resisting the spoon’s trajectory with her mind. 

It's almost pressing into her skull, shaking in mid-air, ready to break her skin. You gasp and drop the spoon, embarrassed to have registered her as a threat. “I’m so sorry,” you say, watching as Jean crouches down and picks up the spoon. “I didn’t know that was you in there, I swear.”

You expect Logan to stand from the chair and rush over to Jean, but he stays next to you, glued to your side, the palm of his hand resting gently on your back. “Jean.” His voice is firm, almost cold and harsh. “What was that?” You’re surprised at how curt he’s being with her, surprised he remembered that you’re sensitive to people probing around your mind, even if it’s friendly. 

Jean mutters a curse. “I was just communicating with her. I didn’t think she’d—” 

Logan stands, his hand still steady at your back. “Don’t do that again. Ever.” His voice is louder now, heavier. 

She whispers an apology, setting the spoon on the counter and walking towards the doorway. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says. “I should’ve remembered given your…” she pauses, searching for the word, “past…that it wouldn’t be a good idea.” She takes another tentative step. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, and she slips out. 

Logan settles back into the stool next to you. You’re shocked that he’s still here, that he hasn’t run away yet. You can hear him breathe—in and out—gentle, long breaths. You close your eyes and listen, the sound calming you down. You’re still expecting him to leave, to walk away, but he doesn’t. 

“You okay?” He asks, your eyes fluttering open, his voice hanging in the air. His head is tilted to the side, worry painted across his face. 

“Y-yeah. I’m fine,” you stutter, your voice cracking. “You don’t have to stay with me. You can go check on her if you want.” You nod towards the doorway—to wherever Jean wandered off to. 

“And why would I do that?” Is all he says in return, furrowing his brows. 

You put on that fake smile again. “I almost jammed a spoon into her forehead because she spoke to me telepathically.” You shake your head. “Don’t really think my reaction was particularly friendly—or something that good people do.” You break eye contact with Logan and look to the other side of the kitchen. “Plus, you two are…close.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm again, but gentle this time, reassuring. His hand slips across your back and rests on your waist. You’re so shocked by the contact that you almost miss what he says. “First of all, she knows better. Charles warned her about what you’ve been through. And second…” He trails off, smirking at you. “I’d rather be with you.”

Oh? Oh. He’d rather be with you. 

“I just thought, you know, you and Jean were…” You’re too embarrassed to finish the sentence and too nervous to hear him say the words you’ve been dreading most. 

He shakes his head, that smirk still spread across his lips. “No, it’s not Jean I want. Never has been.” 

Your breathing becomes shaky—your heart beating rapidly in your chest. “If it’s not Jean, then—” 

Logan cuts you off as he suddenly moves. His arm lifts from your waist as he stands, turning your stool around so your back is against the cold countertop. He’s gripping the arms of the stool now, caging you in. Your mind is hazy—you can’t concentrate with him this close. 

“You think I do the shit I do with you with Jean too, hm?” He’s towering over you, his head cocking to the side, his voice self-assured and confident. “Think I’m watching movies and sunsets with her? Carrying her to bed, too?” 

You’re overwhelmed, dizzied by his words, his size, him. “Just thought that—”

“Just thought what?” He cuts you off again. “That I didn’t want you, darlin’?” He brings his lips to the shell of your ear, one hand moving from the counter to your hip. “Wanted you this whole time,” he huffs, goosebumps rising on your arms. “Only you.” He presses a kiss to your ear, and then just underneath your jaw. 

“Logan,” you whisper. “W-want you too,” you choke out, your hands coming up and around his back. “B-but someone’s gonna walk in on us.” 

He’s ignoring you, biting your pulse point lightly and licking the pain away. “Let them,” he husks, refusing to stop. You instinctively bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging in slightly. He groans at the contact, his chest heaving against yours. 

“One of the kids is catch us in here, or somebody else,” you mutter, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. “W-we should—”

“Go to my room.” He finishes your thought. 

“Please.” 

And then he’s picking you up from the chair, his hands under your thighs, grabbing your ass. You wrap your legs around his waist as he prowls out of the kitchen. He looks both ways as he crosses the hallway and makes his way to the stairs. There’s no one in sight. He carries you up the steps and down the hall to his room, practically breaking down the door as he swings it open and slams it shut. 

And then he’s laying you down on his bed, crawling over you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Wanted you in here sooner,” he murmurs, his lips just inches from yours. “Hoped you’d come over one night. You should’ve.”

His lips crash down onto yours before you can find the words to say. He’s starving for you, swallowing your moans as his hands slip under your shirt, his nails digging lightly into your sides. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps against your lips. Everything is desperate and rushed, hands pawing at bare skin in the dim light of his room. 

Logan tugs on the hem of your shirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the side as he sits up on his knees, taking you in. He curses under his breath, looking you up and down. 

“Logan,” you whine, arching your back. You need his hands on you again, his lips. Something. Anything. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he soothes, his fingers hooking inside the waistband of your shorts. “Gonna take care of you.” He yanks them down your legs, leaving you in just your bra and panties. 

He pulls off his own shirt, tossing it carelessly, letting it get lost on the floor. He settles back down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand finds your waist. He slides up to the bottom of your bra, teasingly pulling on the fabric before slipping his hand behind your back—skillfully unclasping the bra with one easy motion. You arch your back again, the bra straps sliding down your arms as Logan tosses the bra to the floor, too. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, his hand tracing the curves of your breasts, massaging gently. “Perfect.” He captures your lips in another kiss as his thumb ghosts over your nipples, just barely giving you the relief you need before pinching softly. The pressure feels so good, so right, but it’s not enough. 

He draws circles around your nipples with his thumb, the sensation feeding the aching fire between your legs. Your hips involuntarily lift off the mattress, meeting his. “Need me that bad, huh?” He is always so incredibly cocky, even now—especially now. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and what to do next. 

Logan grinds his erection into your core. You can feel how big he is, the weight of him heavy against your cunt even in his jeans. You clench around nothing, whining his name as his strained cock teases your panty-clad pussy. “You want me to make you feel good, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, biting your lips as his hand leaves your tits and sweeps down your stomach, stopping just above your clit. He slides his fingers down just a bit more, feeling where your arousal seeps through your panties. 

“Already soaking for me, sweetheart.” The bassy timber of his voice stokes that flame deep within your belly. Without warning, he’s hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanking them down your legs. “Can’t wait anymore, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Wanna taste this pussy.” He kisses your belly button, leaving a trail down the rest of your stomach as his mouth travels to where you need him most. 

There’s something depraved about the way he’s crawling down your body, taking in every inch of you. He spreads your legs apart with the palms of his hands—his thumbs brushing against your bare skin, licking teasingly at your inner thighs as he settles in between them. 

He pauses, looking at you under hooded eyes. You can see the want—no, the need—in the way his muscles flex and how he works his jaw. But he’s hesitating, his breath hot against your core, sending another jolt of desire through your body. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your eyes searching his for his next move. 

He finally presses a kiss to your clit. “You don’t understand how you make me feel,” he mumbles against your heat, licking a long stripe through your folds and back to your clit. “No idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you.” You throw your head back, whimpering his name as he laps again and again. He’s starving, and you’re the only thing that can satiate his hunger. His tongue swirls around your clit, flicking it, taking it in between his lips and sucking hard. 

Your hips lift off the mattress and Logan quickly moves to hold them down. “You’re not going anywhere, darlin’,” he grunts against you, the vibration of his voice going straight to your core. 

His free hand slips up the inside of your thighs, teasingly climbing higher and higher, his nails skimming your flesh. He’s toying with you, leading you on, taking his time. His fingers finally ghost over your folds, exploring you, stroking up and down as his tongue laps at your cunt. 

Logan prods your entrance with two fingers, slipping in just a bit, testing the waters. “Please,” you beg, pushing your hips down in an attempt to sink his fingers deeper into you. He stops you, his hand still firmly holding your hips down, refusing to give you the release you’re dying for. 

“So fucking impatient, aren’t you?” He tuts. And then he’s shoving two fingers all the way inside you, down to his knuckles. “Such a pretty pussy.”

“F-fuck!” You cry out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he sets a relentless pace. He’s drinking you in, sucking roughly, his long fingers pumping in and out with a vengeance. 

“’This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks condescendingly in between laps. You’re too fucked out to form a sentence, your legs trembling underneath him. You know he’s loving this—loving that you’re a wet, needy, whimpering mess. 

Your walls squeeze around his fingers, your swollen clit throbbing as he laps at you. You’re so close already. “Lo,” you call out, fisting the sheets of his bed. Everything in here smells like him: pine and mint and musk and tobacco and that thing that’s uniquely Logan. It’s all so overwhelming and overstimulating. You’re ready to fall apart, to melt into nothingness. “S-so close.”

He squeezes your hip. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes, his pace unwavering as his fingers fuck into you, scissoring inside you, drawing you closer to your climax with that come-hither motion he does so well. Your walls flutter again. “That’s it,” he coos. “Wanna feel you come—wanna know what it tastes like.” He licks harder, faster. “Let go for me, darlin’.” 

He pushes you over the edge, pleasure warming your belly as you let go. It washes over you in waves, his fingers still pumping in and out, his tongue still hanging on to the taste of you. You ride it out, his thumb brushing your hip, coaxing you through it. His fingers slip out of your cunt, but his head is still buried between your legs. You shudder as he licks long, slow stripes through your folds. 

“So fucking sweet,” he growls, still starving for more. “Not done with you yet.”

Fuck. 

But you need more—need his cock deep inside you, pounding into you. You need him in front of you, his lips on yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, your voice shaky and trembling just like the rest of your body. He finally lifts his head, his hair a disheveled mess, your juices glistening on his lips and his chin. The sight of him makes your breath hitch in your throat. There’s a feral, needy look in his eyes. He’s starving for more of you, and you’re not quite sure he’ll ever get enough. 

But he can see your chest heaving and the desire in your own eyes. He knows what you need—he always does. He sits up on his knees, staring at you while he slowly unbuckles his belt. The tension is palpable, the clinking of his belt against the hardwood floors cutting through it like a hot knife—the only sounds the melding of your quick breaths and the shuffling of bed sheets as Logan finally comes up to meet you. 

He's balancing on his forearm as he unbuttons his jeans, undoing the zipper and shoving the denim and his boxers down his legs. You swallow at the sight of his cock springing against his stomach. You had felt his erection before, but he is far bigger than you ever anticipated. 

With one hand on his cock, he lowers himself in between your thighs. You instinctually spread your legs for him, inviting him in. He nudges against your entrance, taking his time. 

His forehead meets yours, your chests flush against each other’s, panting in sync. You’re both waiting with bated breath, his tip slipping inside, but stopping short before going any farther. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Thought I’d never have you,” he confesses, pushing his tip a bit further in. “Would’ve given up anything for this. Would’ve waited forever.”

“You don’t have to,” you murmur.  “I’m right here. I’m yours.” 

“Mine?”

“All yours.”

And then he’s pushing deep inside you, down to the hilt, bottoming out. He swallows your moans with a kiss, biting your lip, drawing blood, and licking it away. “All fucking mine.” He stays buried inside you, unmoving. “Wanna stay inside you forever, sweetheart,” he growls, your heart bursting at the thought.

He pulls himself all the way out and all the way back in, stretching you out, working you open. You look down in between your bodies and watch as his cock disappears inside of you. “Feels s-so fucking good,” you stammer, already drunk off him. 

“Like watching me fuck into you?” Logan husks, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper. His muscles flex as he ruts into you. He takes the hand that was on his cock and brings it in between your bodies, his fingertips quickly finding your clit and giving it a soft pinch. Your back arches off the mattress at the sensation. 

Logan hums at your reaction. “So sensitive,” he groans. “Taking me so good, sweetheart.” You can feel him losing control as he rams into you, his thrusts growing harder with each pump of his cock. He’s drawing firm, fast circles into your core. 

It’s all too much, him, his cock, his fingers. Your skin is on fire, your nipples pushing against his chest—the friction absolutely delicious. You’re already so close, just a few steps away from the ledge, and you’re ready to fall. 

“Know you’re close, darlin’,” Logan moans in between kisses. “Can feel you squeezing me.” 

You hum in response, but Logan refuses to let up. His pace is beyond brutal, pounding into you over and over again, his fingers working your clit in tandem. Your muscles contract around him, gripping tightly. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “So fucking tight, so fucking warm.” His praises are more than you can handle. “You gonna come on my cock, just like this?” 

“Yes, fuck, Logan!” You’re a babbling mess, his name the only thing on your mind, on your lips, hanging in the air like it’s a sacred prayer. Everything is him, and it always has been. In this moment and in every other, he is your end and your beginning. 

 “Let go for me, sweetheart. Know you can do it for me.” His deep voice is all you need to walk you through it. You’re breaking down, coming on his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, spreading like an untamable fire. 

He’s stroking your clit long after you’ve come, still snapping his hips into yours, still working up towards his own orgasm. His pace is getting sloppier, but he shows no signs of stopping. You can feel yourself growing overstimulated, his cock rubbing against your walls, his fingers circling your clit. “S’too much,” you whine, your nails digging into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. 

Logan presses himself closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’ve got one more in you, sweetheart,” he coaxes, not letting up. “Know you can take it.”

You’re breathless, clinging onto him helplessly. You’re clamping down on him again, taking him deeper than you did before. He’s hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. “Lo,” you whimper. “I’m gonna—”

“I know, darlin’,” he grunts. You can feel him throbbing inside you. “Let it happen, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” 

The tension is snapping again, breaking in half as he pulls another orgasm from you. You shudder as you come for a third time, overstimulated and beyond fucked out. You know he’s close behind, his hips slowing down, his forehead pressed against yours. He slips his hand away from your clit and around your back, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s so intimate, so perfect. 

“F-fuck,” he mumbles. “Where do you want me to—”

You hold him closer. “Stay,” you whisper. “Want you inside. Wanna feel you come.”

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, plunging deep inside you, his muscles tensing as he fills you up, your name on his lips. His thrusts slow, pumping in and out every now and then before finally stopping. 

You stay like this for a few minutes, his arm keeping you tight against his chest, his cock still buried inside you and your foreheads still pressed together. 

He brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin. You sigh, your eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He shakes his head. “I always wanted you,” he says, his voice low and raspy. “The whole time. It was only ever you.” 

His words could make you cry. It’s everything you’ve ever hoped to hear. You smile, his hand finding its way to the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly stroking your sensitive skin. “Can’t believe I didn’t see it,” you breathe, your voice laden with sleepiness. “I never knew. Thought you’d never want me.”

“I’ll always want you.” His cock finally slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty. His legs tangle with yours, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “Would’ve waited forever for you, darlin’.”

“Forever?”

“Longer.”

[khioneee]

‘honey, i’m home.’

simon, presumed dead for the past five years, appears at your doorstep, very much alive.

the knock at the door cut through the quiet night like a knife, startling you from restless sleep. rain hammered against the windows, and the wind howled through the cracks. your heart pounded in your chest as you shuffled toward the door, dread curling deep in your stomach. no one visited at this hour. not anymore.

you hesitated at the door, hand trembling slightly on the knob. for a moment, you thought about ignoring it—letting whoever it was go unanswered. but something pulled you forward, a strange sense of familiarity, even though you couldn’t place it.

when you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat.

there, standing on your doorstep, was simon.

simon stood before you, drenched from the rain, looking like a ghost dragged back from the edge of the world. his hair clung to his forehead, water dripping down his pale face, and exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. it had been five years since you’d gazed into those stormy eyes—five years of grief, heartache, and learning how to live without him. his familiar eyes, shadowed by exhaustion and pain, locked onto yours. his clothes were soaked, his body thinner than you remembered, like he had fought every step of the way just to stand on your doorstep.

your breath hitched painfully. ‘wake up,’ you said to yourself, heart racing. ‘please… wake up.’

but you didn’t.

‘lovie…’ simon whispered, his voice cracked and hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a long time. ‘i’m home.’

your mind swirled and shock paralyzing you. it felt like a cruel trick your mind had conjured. the world around you blurred, and your heart ached in your chest. it couldn’t be real. he couldn’t be here.

simon’s expression softened, and without a word, before you could react, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. he reached for you, pulling you into his arms without hesitation, and the breath left your lungs. his grip was tight, desperate, as if holding you was the only thing keeping him grounded. his cold, rain-soaked body pressed against yours, but you didn’t care.

he was here.

you froze for a moment, and then, slowly, your hands gripped the wet fabric of his jacket, your chest pressed against his. tears welled in your eyes, the disbelief crashing into a flood of emotions—relief, anger, and love. his familiar scent, rain-soaked, earthy, and undeniably him, flooded your senses, overwhelming you.

‘they told me you were dead,’ you sobbed against him, your fists clinging to his jacket as if that could keep him here. ‘they said your plane crashed. that you were gone.’

you clung to him, your heart shattering in your chest. he held you as if afraid you might slip through his fingers, as if his entire world depended on you being real.

simon buried his face into your hair, holding you tighter, his breath shaky. ‘every bloody day, i fought my way back for you,’ he said, his voice heavy with the weight of everything he’d endured. ‘you were the only reason i stayed alive.’

you sobbed harder, burying your face into his chest, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. all the years of mourning him, the endless nights spent crying yourself to sleep, the desperate ache of thinking you’d lost him forever—all of it shattered in his arms.

but then, simon’s grip on you faltered. something had shifted in the way he held you. slowly, he pulled back just enough to look down at your hand. his thumb brushing over the bare space where your wedding ring used to sit.

his body tensed. he pulled back slightly, just enough to glance down at your hand, and his breath hitched. the wedding ring you once wore was gone.

‘where’s your ring?’ he asked, voice quiet but edged with something fragile, as if the answer might break him.

your throat tightened, guilt and sorrow clawing at your chest. ‘simon…’ you started, voice cracking under the weight of it all.

his jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked past you. that’s when he saw them—new photos hanging on the walls. the ones of you and him were gone, replaced by pictures of you and someone else.

it was like the air had been knocked from his lungs. his jaw clenched, shoulders sagging under the realization. his face a mask of exhaustion and heartbreak as the weight of what he was seeing sank in.

you looked away, guilt pressing down on your chest like a heavy weight. ‘i waited…’ you whispered. ‘even when they told me there wasn’t a chance you were alive, i tried.’

his face didn’t change, but the subtle pain and betrayal in his eyes was unmistakable. ‘i came back for you,’ he uttered softly, almost to himself. ‘i told you i’d come to you.’

‘i thought you were gone,’ you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. ‘i didn’t know how to keep waiting when they told me you’d never come back.’

simon’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away your tears. despite everything, his touch was tender, grounding. ‘i didn’t survive just to be a memory, sweetheart,’ he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. ‘i fought every day to come back to you. and if i have to fight again… i will.’

you leaned into him, your heart breaking and mending all at once. the years apart, the lost moments—they still weighed heavy, but he was here. he had kept his promise, and that was all that mattered now.

‘i told you i’d come back,’ he said, voice low but steady. ‘and i’m not going anywhere. not ever again.’

[doux-amer]

Choked back tears in the last few minutes because of and for Lucho and then when the match ended, players came up to him, he showed his shirt again, and Klopp came to give him a warm, comforting, proud hug. God. You try not crying then.

So happy he of all people got the tying goal in extra time. "Para papa" was enough to make me crumble and "libertad para papa." What he's going through right now is unfathomable. Please let them find his dad safe and sound.

[eowynstwin]

clawing at the door

ghoap x reader. jealousy. bisexual soap. bisexual ghost. emotionally constipated ghost. manipulative soap. ghost likes em thick. lightly explicit. MDNI. ao3

When Ghost first sees you and Soap together, his jealousy is hard to parse. He doesn't quite understand what he's feeling.

On the one hand, Occam's Razor. Simple explanations usually prove the truest. Soap is his boy, has been since Las Almas, and you are an interloper in their hard-won dynamic. Ghost does not absorb others into his life lightly, even less so then he allows them to strongarm themselves beneath the mask. He doesn't particularly like people, isn't really fond of their tendency toward abject mortality.

Soap's strong arms are a rare exception. And Ghost has nearly died too many times not to admire a nice round ass when he sees one—the kind that glistens and quivers beneath the weak spray of a communal shower. Some part of him has always kind of supposed the sergeant had been showing off specifically for him, too, when he dropped trousers and moaned like a whore when the hot water started flowing.

The boy certainly dogs his steps like that's the case.

Then, you: showing up on base one day, Soap's hand spread wide and possessive on the small of your back. Jewel-bright eyes following your every move. Blush high and feverish on his boy's cheekbones every time you throw half a smile his way.

So it's envy. So it's a crush, unrequited.

Simple problem, simple solution. Getting over by getting under and all that. There are apps for every heartache, and plenty of hard-bodied gym rats out there tripping over themselves to bottom for a brute like him, who can actually throw them around.

Not two minutes after making his profile (military, six-five, top), likely candidates start filing themselves into his inbox. Some part of his ego is gratified, at least. The influx of taint pics certainly confirms for him that his vanity, in fact, is justified, even if the last thing he wants to see is some random stranger's asshole.

He messages a jacked brunette with brown eyes and dimples, who led instead with a comparatively tame "hey big guy," and lets him pick the bar where they'll meet up.

And it's...fine.

The guy is fine. Equally as attractive in person as on camera, with curly hair and short stubble. He's there before Ghost, and directs an easygoing smile at him when he drops onto a stool at the bar beside him.

He doesn't even question the mask, though his eyes linger on it, half-lidded, the kind of way that suggests he's figuring something out about himself that he hadn't considered before. Not the first time it's happened for Ghost.

The problem with fine is that Ghost can't work up even much of a chub talking to him. The guy has a nasally voice and a friendly attitude that makes Ghost's teeth go numb from the sweetness. When they sequester in the dingy pub bathroom, the guy goes to his knees like an angel, and Ghost's cock actually softens more, thoroughly bored already with the notion of this random guy’s mouth on it.

The problem is, Soap would bust Ghost's balls for this.

Sure, Ghost could get him on his knees. Soap is a good boy, he'll take an order if he's given one. But he's also a fucking brat, and the moment Ghost pulled his cock out Soap would immediately start complaining about it.

Too big, too ugly, not hard enough, and when was the last time Ghost washed that fucking thing? How romantic, LT, making him suck Ghost off in a pub bathroom, hasn't he ever heard of good old-fashioned wooing?

He'd complain, Ghost knows, because he'd want, more than anything, for Ghost to just cut through the bullshit and shove straight down his throat. He'd run his mouth because the only thing he wants Ghost to do is shut him the fuck up, for once, and make him actually work for the praise they both know he's so desperate for.

And Ghost would give it. If Soap earned it. The fight isn't about winning.

This guy isn't putting up a fight. He tries nicely, licks all over the limp-hanging head and pale glans, but Ghost ends up making some excuse—Dad has cancer, Mom died, the usual—and leaving him there still on his knees.

He deletes the apps. He can invest in a fleshlight, and find some porn star another with enough of a resemblance to be functional.

Less of a hassle for everyone involved.

Problem solved.

And then he encounters you again.

You're walking out of the supermarket one night, with two huge bags over your shoulders, digging through your purse out in front of you. He has to stop you with one hand on your shoulder to keep you from running into him.

The evening is warm; your shirt is a thin camisole with little elastic straps. His palm meets your bare skin, and finds it soft and dewy with a little sweat.

You look up, startled, blinking as if caught in a bright light.

"Oh," you say, "Ghost, hello!"

"Bird," he grunts, wondering why he's surprised that you recognize him.

He pulls his hand away, and still feels the imprint of your body heat in its grooves.

"Sorry, I should have been looking," you say, smiling. It's a friendly expression, open and innocent—a daisy's petals spread on a clear day. "Johnny's making beef wellington tonight when he's off duty, so I went and got everything."

Ghost frowns. What kind of boyfriend lets his girl do so much heavy lifting?

He helps you carry the bags to your car. He's jealous, not an asshole. You thank him with a breezy laugh when he closes the hatchback—

"I'm sure Johnny wouldn't mind if you stopped by for dinner," you say, folding your arms across your ribcage. It presses your tits together as you cup your elbows in your hands, pronouncing the line of your cleavage with an uncomfortable eloquence.

"Busy," Ghost says immediately, staring very hard into your eyes. "Thanks."

You shrug, unperturbed. "Anytime. Good night!"

He stands in the carpark for a full five minutes after you drive away. He thinks he can feel his own heartbeat throbbing through the palm he touched you with.

Well, then.

Bereft of any opportunity to get to know you—as if it would even be appropriate—Ghost stalks social media until he finds you through Soap's Instagram. Your account is private, so he sends a follow request, expectations very low that you'd allow someone with a blank sky for a profile picture and only one post on their feed to follow you, "sghostriley" notwithstanding.

But—you do. And suddenly he has a decade of material to peruse, beginning with your last year of secondary school and leading all the way up to present, the most recent photo one of you and Soap at the top of some mountain, grinning at the camera in your hiking gear.

You don't post very many pictures of yourself, he finds. Instead you document interesting food you eat or make, crafts you're working on, nice scenery you caption with variations of "saw this on my walk today :)". It's all very domestic, sweet in a way without being saccharine.

Soft, really. Totally separated from the hard edges of the world he and Soap routinely throw themselves along.

And yet, honest in a way that makes your version of the world feel more like the real one, and his and Soap’s the nightmare.

Ghost hasn't been with a girl—let alone been interested in one—in years. It isn't that the attraction had ever died, exactly. Rather, it simply became so complex, so twisted in on itself and trapped beneath years of grown-over scar tissue, that he'd made an unconscious decision never to confront it. He ignored Price’s stories about his wife’s antics at home, Gaz’s perennial heartbreak after strings of failed dates—

Soap’s lurid bragging about the women he’s taken home from various pubs.

(Were you one of those pub girls?)

So, here it is now, confronting him instead. Reminding him, in a pretty camisole, just how very much it exists.

In the carpark, there’d been a bead of sweat slipping down your neck as you’d waved him goodbye. He finds himself wondering how long it would’ve taken to slide all the way down to the slope of your breast, if he didn’t catch it with his tongue first.

He continues through your Instagram. The majority of your selfies show up, he guesses, after the beginning of your relationship with Soap.

Earlier pictures of you make your discomfort obvious. You don't like the way you look, and it shows in the tension on your face when confronted with a camera lens. But later on, you gain confidence. Your expressions are softer as you show off a new haircut or glasses.

And when the first picture of you with Soap shows up, it's like seeing someone glowing from the inside.

Your head is tucked into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. The smile on your face is soft, small and lovely in how little you're clearly thinking about it.

You're happy.

It floors him. A happy girl, settled into the embrace of a man who’s made her feel that way.

Piece of work, he is. Could ogle another man's ass without shame, but present him with that man’s girl and suddenly it upends his entire sense of self.

Some old cunt psychiatrist would have a field day analyzing him.

Ghost skips the apps and, following in Soap’s footsteps, heads back to the pubs.

It’s worse.

Not that he doesn’t have options sidling up to him, that is. It seems like all he has to do is sit at the bar and wait, and women circle their way into his orbit, not really talking to him but letting him know, simply by hovering, that they’d love for him to talk to them. Batting their lashes, laughing near him seemingly at nothing.

Up to him to make the first move then. It seems to him like the rules haven't changed over his long absence from the dating pool.

Therein lay the snag—Ghost doesn't know how to talk to women. Not that way, the way one says without saying it that he'd like to take her home and bend her over the back of his couch. Say that to a man at the right bar and that was his evening sorted, but Ghost has a feeling that won't play as well among people with cat-shaped brass knuckles on their keychains.

He's not much of a talker, period. Soap yaps enough to fill in his side of the conversation whenever they're in the field. And you...well, he doesn't know about you. Ghost has the uncomfortable feeling that he'd try for you, and fail miserably.

The bartender slides a drink in front of him, distracting him from his agonizing. When Ghost gives him a questioning look, he nods in the direction of a table behind him.

One of the barflies has made the first move.

She winks at him when he raises the glass at her. She’s pretty—her dark makeup makes her eyes look angular and mysterious, and her red dress is tight, thin, and low-cut. Her exposed chest shimmers, as if she dusted some sort of powder across her collarbones before making her way here.

Sparkly and colorful, like a lure on a line. Ready to hook something and pull it in.

(Your camisole had been threadbare and lined with cheap, fraying lace. A favorite of yours, probably, something you wore when you wanted to be comfortable, and didn’t care who thought what about it.)

Ghost notices other men are eyeing the woman, and a couple of them send nasty glares his way. That is, they do before promptly averting their gazes once they see what he looks like.

He can have this, then, if he wants it. He just has to reach out and take it.

He feels your warmth in the palm of his hand again. The breeze of your laugh brushes his cheek with a soft touch.

He sends the woman one of her own drink, drops forty quid on the bar, and leaves without looking back.

Another dinner invite comes his way, this time courtesy of Soap himself.

“She told me she met you at the store,” Soap says, one afternoon when they’re in the changing room. “Really nice of you to help her out, LT.”

“You weren’t there to do it,” Ghost grumbles. Soap has been prancing around shirtless for fifteen minutes, faffing about while Ghost waits for him to leave so he can adjust his erection.

“I didn’t tell her to get everything!” the sergeant protests. “She just went and did it herself.” Then Soap’s eyes go all dreamy and stupid. “She’s grand, isn’t she.”

Ghost grumbles again, something noncommittal.

“Anyway, dinner’s at seven, and I’ll send you the address,” says Soap, pulling a thin t-shirt over his head. Ghosts watches him yank the hem down over his pecs, covering the toned plane of his abs.

Soap winks at him. “See you there, Ghost.”

Ghost grunts.

Soap does, in fact, see him there.

He goes out of resignation. Or maybe with some notion that seeing Soap and you together again will finally vanquish whatever sits on his chest so heavily whenever he thinks of the two of you.

Soap’s the one to answer the door. “There he is, the braw wee bastard!”

“Soap.”

From the looks of it, it’s your flat. It’s nicely decorated without being too over-designed, something warm and comfortable and welcoming. When Ghost steps inside, he’s hit immediately with the smell of seared pancetta and garlic.

The sergeant leads him through the flat. Ghost has a bottle of wine under one arm, having remembered at the last minute he should probably bring something along. You’re in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove.

“Hi, Ghost!” you chirp when you look over your shoulder. “Ooh, good, that’s drinks settled. Hope you like bolognese. It’s all I know how to make.”

“S’fine,” Ghost says, which he would say even if bolognese made him violently ill.

“Ach, you can make more than that,” Soap says, retrieving three long-stemmed glasses from a cabinet. “Pour a nice glass of water.”

You snatch the dish towel hanging from the oven handle and give it a snap in the general direction of Soap’s ass. He laughs and dances out of the way.

“There’s a bottle opener in the island drawer, Ghost,” you say cheerfully. You're pretty tonight, in a loose t-shirt and soft-looking joggers. Casual, like you don't have a guest over at all.

Like it's just a night in with your boyfriend.

Ghost pops the cork as Soap sets the glasses down. After he pours, the sergeant delivers a glass to his girlfriend, and there’s a brief moment of quiet as everyone sips and the sauce on the stove bubbles.

It’s all so nice and normal as to make Ghost’s hackles raise just in anticipation, although he knows there’s no reason for it. Truthfully, he almost hadn’t come. The thought of you and Soap, and Soap and you, in the same room, together, a unit, had made his stomach clench up so tight that he though he might not be able to get any food down.

But some part of him needed to come, and see this. Test out Pavlov’s theory, to see if enough negative reinforcement could break him of this borderline manic fixation. If he could associate Soap and you with romantic nausea, and nothing more, maybe he could finally stop jerking off every night to no satisfaction.

Because he had, in fact, found a porn star who looked like Soap. More tattoos, and a buzz cut rather than a mohawk, but Ghost couldn’t be picky.

The real shock had been to find that this proxy often partnered with a girl who looked enough like you to be uncanny. Too skinny, definitely, but in the one video Ghost had watched of them together, he could have sworn, as the lookalike reamed her from behind—

That it was you looking at him over your shoulder.

Looking at Soap. Or, looking at Ghost, behind him.

At that moment in the playback Ghost had come so hard, cock blazing red and raw in his hand, that the notion had liquified a little. So he couldn’t be sure what the thought had originally meant.

He hadn’t been brave enough to watch another.

“This isn’t bad,” Soap says after tasting the wine. “Nothin’ on a good whisky, mind.”

“Don’t neg your lieutenant, Johnny,” you say. “This is good, Ghost, thank you.”

Hearing Johnny fall from your lips so casually threads something uncomfortable between Ghost’s intestines. Uncomfortable, because he likes it.

Had Soap told you to call him that? Or had you decided on it all on your own? Did Soap think of Ghost whenever you said his name? Did he think of you whenever Ghost did?

“Simon’s fine,” he replies.

It escapes him before he even thinks about it. The same way he’d taken his mask off in Las Almas and looked directly at Soap, wondering in some hidden part of himself if the sergeant was impressed.

“That’s a nice name,” you say, swirling the wine in your glass. You take another sip, closing your eyes to savor it, and then, tilting your head like a little bird in thought, you pour a stream of it from the glass into your pasta sauce.

“Suits him, aye?” Soap says, side-eyeing Ghost with amusement. “Right posh name he’s got for a big scary bugger. Hidden depths, him.”

“Yeah, unlike you,” you snark, stirring.

Soap slaps a big hand over his heart. “Ach, lass, you wound me always.”

“Someone has to keep you humble,” you say, grinning. There’s a charming twinkle in your eyes.

“You gonna let ‘er get away with that, sergeant?”

He surprises himself by saying it. But something in the way you and Soap bicker—absent of the usual sugary drivel, as if the two of you have skipped over the honeymoon phase and stuck the landing right into stable commitment—invites him in.

It's magnetic, almost. It seizes the spinning needle in his brain, draws it to a standstill. Evens out the landscape, so he knows where he can go.

“You’re absolutely right, LT,” says Soap, who smacks his lips, sets his wineglass aside, and bum-rushes you.

You shriek as he captures you in both arms, lifting you off the floor and whirling you around—both the spoon in one hand and the glass in the other fling drops of red and white absolutely everywhere. And then you’re giggling as Soap wedges his face between your neck and shoulder and shakes his head like a dog, probably biting down.

Soap growls; a big smile takes over your face, eyes squeezed shut as you laugh breathlessly. The sergeant’s broad, brown forearms have yours pinned up against your chest, pressing your breasts together.

“Not fair, Ghost!” you exclaim as Soap’s growling noises turn into obnoxiously loud kisses. “No pulling rank in my house!”

“Two against one, hen, you’re outnumbered,” Soap counters. “What should we do with this one, eh, LT?”

“See if I ever cook for you two again, is what!” you protest, still grinning with delight. You kick your legs to no effect.

Soap, also grinning, slots his face back into your neck. You giggle again, complaining that it tickles.

Some incomplete circuit finally connects.

Order given. Girlfriend “punished.”

Soap making you laugh because Ghost told him to.

Not one. Not the other. Both.

“Think we can let ‘er off the hook this time,” he says, feeling dazed.

The pictures on your Instagram, with you and Soap together. The both of you, smiling together, wrapped around each other, standing at the top of a mountain and grinning what the two of you get to share.

Soap's hand spread on your back.

“Aye, sir,” Soap says, setting you down. You’re still laughing a little as you go to check the sauce, and Soap finds a towel to clean up the mess he made. Ghost reels in the meanwhile.

There’s an imprint of Soap’s teeth on your neck.

They wouldn’t be there if Ghost hadn’t sicced Soap on you.

He’s still reeling as you begin plating dinner, and Soap sets out the silverware. When everyone sits down to eat, the sergeant tops up everyone’s drinks.

“I hope you like it,” you say to Ghost, setting his plate in front of him. There's a shyness to you, a verity to your concern for his opinion.

“Oh, he will,” Soap says, grinning.

He trails the tips of his fingers along the back of your arm as he directs that jewel-blue gaze at Ghost. It's sharper than Ghost has ever noticed before—

“The LT has good taste. Don’t you, Ghost?”

And with his other hand, he raises his glass to the knowing smirk on his lips.

a/n: I can't use arse, I know it would be more accurate but I just can't I'm sorry

[moonpascaltoo]

LOGAN “JAMES” HOWLETT / WOLVERINE    

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all logan howlett stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST • XMEN MASTERLIST • 11/18/24

@ichorai     ➤ as it was     you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

@lune-hime     ➤ blast from the past

@imaginesforfandom     ➤ a wolverines heartache     On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

@angelltheninth     ➤ feral

@loganbcrnes     ➤ worked up     logan breaks the bed

@starryluce     ➤ anything     Almost everyone fears Logan but Logan only fears you. His wife that happens to be pretty mad at him.

@lilac-mushroom     ➤ i need you baby     When you found out that mutants were being chased and attacked, you couldn't stand the thought of Logan, an old friend of yours, being hurt. Upon arrival at the place he was staying at, you found him beaten up and hurting, his healing powers slowed down. Deciding to take care of him, you couldn't ignore the closeness and strong sexual tension felt between you, just like old times. It wouldn't be bad to give in to it... right?     ➤ above the clouds     Flying over to Atlanta for a mission with the X-Men, you sat next to Logan on the plane. But when his hand sneaked to caress the top of your thigh, you were faced with having to decide between sneaking off with him to the bathroom and leaving Logan painfully hard for rest of the flight. Maybe if you tried to be quiet...

@jbreenr     ➤ apologies     The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.

@buckylattes     ➤ two wolves, one bunny     Logan and Bucky have had their eyes on you for a little bit now, and you can’t stand to wait any longer for them to finally make a move. So you make a move of your own and finally, you all get what you’ve been wanting.   ➤ next door neighbor   Your next door neighbor, Logan, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?     ➤ possessive     Logan is always very possessive of you, his girl, but you can’t really be mad at him even if you try.

@buckyownsmylife     ➤ untangle me     The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining     ➤ first burn     The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.

@loving-barnes     ➤ prom     ➤ a little game

@galatially     ➤ touch me like nobody else does   you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air.

@ellana-ravenwood     ➤ in love with the wolverine

@hannibals-favourite-meal   ➤ sunshine and flowers     Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart. ➤ the way back home     After months of being apart from each other, he’s finally back in your arms ➤ worst possible decision     How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

@make-me-imagine     ➤ body swap     reader and wolverine get body swapped, and the reader just so happened to be on their period when it happens + them having to deal with each others mutations.

@carry-on-wayward-sun     ➤ wolverine x reader    

@wolfdeamonghoul     ➤ it should have been me pt2     Bucky and you had a good relationship, until he felt like didn’t need you anymore and so he breaks up with you and starts dating Natasha soon after. It only takes seeing you walking down the aisle, saying your ‘i dos’ to someone else for him to realize his mistake.     ➤ what a tease     you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself   ➤ sexting

@holylulusworld     ➤ breed out     you woke the animal in wolverine.   ➤ bed sharing     “Can you do ‘bed-sharing’ with Wolverine? He’s grumpy and you believe he doesn’t like you, but he can’t stop himself from sniffing at your neck and it can be smutty or just fluff. You decide.”   ➤ cranky     Your boyfriend is cranky in the morning.

@kgficz     ➤ newbie     Logan had arrived at the X Mansion only a few days ago, finding it difficult to adjust. One night when he can’t fall asleep, he finds you awake in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation.     ➤ back in time     Set in Days of Future Past; Logan has lost everything, he has lost you. He’s finally been sent back in time to change the future. How can he keep his head straight when he travels back and sees a younger you?

@imyourbratzdoll     ➤ logan training     logan and the reader end up training in another... more fulfilling way.

@mlmxreader ➤ labels     you and Logan discuss your relationship over a beer.

@trickstersteve ➤ the last goodbye

@lipstickandvibranium ➤ just a dance Logan wasn’t fond of parties, but he was fond of her.

@youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms ➤ i guess you didn’t cheat, but…

deactivated account ➤ request

@inkdrinkerworld ➤ grumpy x sunshine ➤ mutant!reader

@luna-writes-stuff ➤ forever winter After a rough mission, you lost a handful of students. Trying to sleep off your concussion, Logan retreats to the kitchen, coping in his own ways. You encounter him late at night, and remember him that there is no need for him to deal with this alone.

@gallavichsreddie1128 ➤ obsessed with wolverine

@eupheme ➤ sugar, sugar Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate. ➤ come on and show me ➤ your kiss is on my list

@coweye ➤ the honda odyssey The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original. ➤ the worst logan part 2 You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life

@heartlogan ➤ all coming back to me   logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows. ➤ the story ends the day that logan lost you

@gay-dorito-dust ➤ request logan reuniting with reader

@moonlight-prose ➤ heart made of glass you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

@little-miss-dilf-lover ➤ home video

[ellecdc]

I will bite (lol mating bite)

Remus with a best friend!reader who thinks her feelings for him are unrequited

his alpha presentation clicks in when she first presents as an omega - he immediately realizes they’re mates and is delighted, she doesn’t know he likes her and is freaking out that he’s going to feel trapped

🫣.......... okay twist my arm why don't you ;) jk - this theme/trope has been a bit of a brainworm/hyperfixation for me for a few weeks so thank you for indulging me, and sorry to my readers who this might not be their taste! but I definitely had fun with it so you may have to brace yourselves for more of it from me lol

Remus Lupin x best friend!reader who presents as an omega [3.5k words]

p1 // p2

CW: fem!reader, a/b/o dynamics and omegaverse, very soft a/b/o descriptions, SFW [nothing explicit or sexual in this fic], first a/b/o fic I've written so I'm truly just dipping my toes in lol, feelings of unrequited love [but its actually requited]

Loving Remus came as naturally as breathing to you; every inhale was the sweet smell of chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books, and every exhale was a quiet whisper of “I love you” that you prayed to every deity he couldn’t hear.

Loving Remus was natural, but it was also harrowing; no one chooses to experience unrequited love, it’s simply one of those things that happens upon you. 

But no matter how painful the fact that your feelings weren’t reciprocated was, the wholehearted comfort that being around Remus brought you was almost worth the heartache. 

There was something in your soul that relaxed the second Remus was near; your entire being unclenched, knowing you were somehow safer, somehow more sound now that he was here.

And you hoped that, if nothing else, you provided the same for him. 

The two of you had been friends for years; becoming fast friends in first year over your shared love of muggle literature and the fact that the two of you were a touch more shy than your respective peers. 

The friendship never dimmed over time - if anything, it only became stronger with every passing year. No matter how mischievous his new friends were or how much trouble he got into with them around, no matter how many school yard crushes left either of you melancholy, no matter how many failed papers or late night study sessions that turned into heated spats because the two of you were far too overtired to handle anything maturely, and no matter how the moons came and went that effectively waxed and waned the Remus you knew in much the same way, the friendship had weathered it all.

It was one of your greatest possessions - this friendship you shared with Remus - and one of your proudest accomplishments.

And you weren’t going to let a silly crush (or, in your case, your gut-wrenching and undying devotion) ruin it. 

Which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to James and Lily’s flat for your surprise party, preparing yourself to be surprised because Sirius insisted they throw you one but Remus knew you hated surprises and had warned you about it prior to your arrival. 

You were admittedly not feeling up to a party - the telltale tickle in your throat warning you of an impending cold - though you were sure you wouldn’t have felt quite up to a party whether you were poorly or not. Parties were never quite your thing; you loved your friends, and you loved spending time with them, but that many of them in one place at one time and all for you felt a little bit like torture. 

But you knocked on the door which was flung open before your hand even made its second knock and there was a sea of people cheering “happy birthday!” but your eyes - of course - found Remus first, and suddenly, you didn’t think this was torture. Suddenly this was heaven. 

“Wha- you guys!” You started, smiling as James gave you a bone crushing hug, eyes never leaving Remus’. 

“Surprise!” Lily giggled as she elbowed James out of the way to give you her own hug. “Were you surprised?”

“What do you mean ‘were you surprised’? I still am!” You agreed quickly, embracing Sirius who was next in line.

“Moony told you, didn’t he?” He murmured quietly into your hair, causing you to snort. 

“Am I that bad an actor?” You asked him quietly, causing him to chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. 

“No,” He answered quickly, “but he is just that soft on you.” 

You hardly had a moment to consider what Sirius had said when Marlene was yanking you from his grasp to pepper your face in kisses as he shook his head over at his friend and started giving him shit for ruining the surprise. 

After greeting every guest in attendance, you finally made it to Remus who wasted no time in pulling you into his chest.

“Happy birthday, dove.” He murmured into your hair; and you had sort of wished that the only plan you had for the rest of the night was to stay within his warm embrace. 

“Sorry for getting you into trouble with Sirius.” You murmured back into his chest, delighting in the rumble of his laugh you elicited.

“Worth it; couldn’t handle you being miffed with me all night for not warning you.”

You - regretfully - pulled away to shoot him a bemused expression. “I could never spend an entire night miffed with you, Moons.” 

Remus hummed noncommittally as he scanned your face. “Any amount of time would have been too much for me- hey, are you feeling okay?” 

His face took on a concerned form that you found him too pretty to wear, and you suddenly felt bone-deep distress at having caused it.

“Why? I’m fine; do I not look fine?” You asked worriedly, bringing a hand up to your own face which was perhaps warm, but you weren’t feeling clammy. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, though the furrow between his brows was ever present. “You look perfect, as usual, just… are you feeling alright?” 

You let out a sigh, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I think I’ve got a cold coming on, I’ll be alright though.” 

His mouth pinched worriedly as he ducked trying to get you to make eye contact with him. “We don’t have to stay long then, yeah?”

You snorted as you gave him an unimpressed look. “We don’t have to stay long at the party for me that was thrown in part by you?”

“Right.” He agreed readily.

“I’ll be fine, Rem.” You assured him, patting his hand placatingly. “It’s my party, I can sniffle if I want to.”

And though he didn’t seem particularly convinced, he let you go when Sirius and Marlene announced that it was time to dance. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were taking a breather in the small kitchen of James and Lily’s flat when you started to feel slightly worse.

The tickle in your throat had officially turned into an ache in your chest, and your head was pounding - be that from the music, the dancing, the drinks, or whatever flu you were coming down with, you couldn’t be certain. 

But you found yourself feeling better as you let your head fall back against the cool wall; your hair falling away from your neck and allowing the air circulating the room to hit your overly hot neck and chest.

Maybe you should try to leave early?

“I’ll check.” You heard Remus announce; your face breaking out into a grin on its own accord as he came around the corner.

“Y/N.” He breathed out. “Are you alright?” He asked, standing in front of you with that damned furrow in his brow again.

“I’m alright.” Now, was left unsaid, but something in the tilting of his head alerted you to the fact that he heard it anyway. 

“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asked slowly; words stilted as his eyes darted across your face, mostly speaking to himself as he searched your form for answers. 

“Did you find her?” James called out, causing Remus’ neck to crane as he peered around the door frame; and that’s when it hit you.

Chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books.

Remus.

His scent. 

Your head fell forward as you took a deeper breath, and the remnants of whatever cold you were catching dissipated.

And the whole evening clicked into place; the discomfort, his incessant worry and focus on you, you felt better for a moment because he was near - not because you took a moment to breathe, he could tell you were…

Oh god.

“Y/N.” He said again, alerting you to the fact that he was now standing rigidly still and staring at you imploringly. “What-”

“This can’t be happening…” You whispered, eyes glued to the point just under Remus’ jaw that was so disturbingly close yet somehow not nearly close enough. 

“Are- are you…” Remus started, his gaze settling somewhere near your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and took a deep breath through his nose.

As if you scalded him, he went flying backwards from your being - his back making contact with the fridge so violently that it sent magnets flying.

Fuck, fuck! Fuck, he was going to hate you, now, surely? He hated you.

He hated you because he wanted you, but he only wanted you because you were fucking presenting - why? Why now? Why today? Why to him?

He’s never wanted you before; and now he would only want you because he was - what was very clear now - an Alpha and you were, apparently, an Omega.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes until you could see stars.

“Dove-”

“No!” You shouted, pulling your hands away to see him having frozen in reaching out to you, now lifting his hands as if fending off a wild animal.

“Fuck, I need air.” You blurted, and you took off out the front door. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The evening air did little to quell your nerves and nausea over the events of the night. 

To present, tonight out of all nights, in a tiny flat with nowhere to run without causing a scene.

Not to mention the precariousness of your relationship with Remus that you valued over everything was now hanging by a thread. 

“You couldn’t have found us a more comfortable place to sit, gorgeous?” You heard Sirius drawl as he (loudly) took a seat on the curb beside you.

“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you so, Sirius.” You responded dryly. 

“You ought to be.” He continued. “This is not how I wanted to spend your birthday party.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You scoffed, elbowing him in the side causing him to sway as if you’d put any real force behind it. 

“If you fuck on, you get better results.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and if you fuck around you’ll find out.”

“Mmm, saucy, I like where this is going.”

“Padfoot.” You begged miserably, and he let out a relenting sigh before he pulled you roughly into his side, leaving his arm draped over you as you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting on a curb outside.” You answered, earning you a pinch in the side.

“I can see that; I mean, what are you doing out here by yourself? Why aren’t you inside with your man?”

“Stop it, Sirius.” You spat, hastily sitting up and wiping angrily at your face.

“Merlin, you both really are that thick, aren’t you?” He muttered, searching your face like it would somehow answer his question.

“If you’re out here to make fun of me, you can go back inside. I’m humiliated enough.”

Sirius shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand why the two of you are making this harder than it needs to be; you’re both clearly mad for each other, you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself because you think he doesn’t want you, he’s in there feeling sorry for himself because he doesn’t think you want him.”

“He doesn’t want me, Sirius. We’ve always only been friends.”

“But you want him?” He asked then, causing you to put your head in your hands.

“Sirius, please, don’t-”

“Do you want him?” He asked again, more forceful this time. “Simple question, Y/N, yes or no.”

“Yes!” You let out with a sob. “Yes! I’ve always wanted him! I’ve- fuck, I’ve been mad about him for years and… yes. Yes, I want him.” The end of your sentence trailing off as you picked angrily at your nail beds.

Sirius seemed to steal himself for a moment, nodding his head as he sucked in a breath.

“I started calling him Moony before I ever knew of his lycanthropy.” He admitted then; and though you weren’t looking in his direction, you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. 

Sirius let that sit in the air before he got up and stood in front of you, forcing you to look up at him. 

“I called him that because of the way he was always mooning after you.”

“Then why’d he freak? Why’d he rip away from me like that?” You asked - voice disturbingly small as you looked up at one of your oldest friends.

“Why’d you run?”

You let out a sigh and looked at the streetlights across the street instead of admitting “because I’m a coward”. 

“I can’t lose him, Pads. I-” Stopping as a painful shiver shook your frame - the cold taking over again now that you had some distance from your…

From Remus.

But Sirius didn’t rush you, he just continued standing in front of you as you struggled to find the words. 

“I can’t lose him.” You settled on. 

“Then don’t.” He said, toeing your shoe with his. 

“It’s not that simple.” You argued.

“It can be.” A voice sounded from behind you but a moment before you smelled him. 

And though the rational part of your brain wanted to brace yourself, the rest of your body immediately softened in his presence. 

“Well I’m going to go back in and enjoy the kick ass party I threw, so, if the two of you don’t mind…” Sirius said haughtily, shooting you a wink so that you knew it was all in jest and clapping Remus on the back before disappearing back into the building. 

You listened as Remus lowered himself onto the curb beside you; guilt flooding through you at the way his joints cracked audibly and at the fact that he seemed to be leaving quite a bit of distance between the two of you that he wouldn’t have even just a few hours ago. 

“Are you okay?” He started, and you fought the urge to scoff.

No, you thought petulantly, not only do I feel like shit, I’m also at risk of losing the thing that means the most to me.

“I’m fine.” You responded shortly, fixated on the skin surrounding your fingernails as you refused to look in his direction. “You alright?”

“No.” Remus answered quickly, and you did look up at that.

He was staring at you imploringly, his brows furrowed both with sympathy and perhaps a little bit of frustration. 

“Why’d you run?” He asked then.

“I-” you started, though you weren’t exactly sure anymore. “You…you seemed so startled, I… I thought you were upset.”

He seemed to pause as he considered your response; this sort of caution not usual for the two of you this far into your friendship. 

“I had just found out that the girl of my dreams was an Omega, and when she was clearly distraught, I was caught leaning in to get a better sniff.” He deadpanned, shaking his head at himself as he looked out across the street. “I startled because I was certain I was going to startle you.”

“I- you’re not? Startled, that is.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head, turning back to look at you. “Why would I be?”

“But…we’ve never been…more than friends; I didn’t want that to change now, just because you felt it had to.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He responded simply, and for reasons you weren’t willing to think on right now, that sentiment caused something very unpleasant to churn in your gut. 

“Nothing would have to change; you could still be you and I could just be me, and that would be fine. Is that what you want?” 

He held your gaze defiantly as you gaped at him. “I- but,”

“Is that what you want, dove?” He asked again, a slight force in his tone this time as he turned his body towards yours and his eyes flit down to your lips. “Because it is taking everything in my power not to claim you as my own right here, right now. I have wanted this for so long; so I ask you again, is that what you want? For nothing to change?”

“No.” You blurted quickly. 

“No?”

“No.” You whispered, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him too. “No, no. I want you, I need you-”

“Now? You want and need me now, or-”

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you since fourth year, Remus. Since I figured out why I hated Emmeline Vance so much.” You practically sobbed.

“Why?” He asked softly, looking like his lip wanted to tip up into a smile though he was dutiful of your current upset. “Because she fancied me?”

“Because you fancied her.” You corrected miserably. Remus finally brought his hand up to cup your cheek at that, and you hardly had a moment to feel embarrassed at the way you quickly turned your head into his wrist so you could get a better smell of him.

“My poor, sweet girl.” He cooed softly, a sympathetic sound emanating from the back of his throat at the sound that his phrase elicited from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please.” You whispered, no longer trying to withhold the desperation from your voice as you kept your nose pressed to the inside of his wrist and your eyes screwed shut.

“Okay.” He whispered back, even though he had no idea what you were begging him for - you supposed it didn’t matter; he didn’t seem particularly inclined to deny you anything you wanted right now. 

“Rem-”

“I know.”

“Please.”

“I’m right here, dove.” He whispered, pulling you towards him by your hand as you followed all too willingly. “I’m right here.” He whispered again, nose brushing yours before you closed the distance between the two of you.

The sound of the traffic faded away, as did the tarmac beneath you and the air around you; you seemed to be floating in a vast expanse that contained nothing but you and Remus.

You took a moment to mentally kick yourself as you deepened the kiss - nipping at his lower lip and causing him to smile before granting you access - that you could have been, should have been, doing this for years. 

“Ugh, fuck.” Remus muttered as he broke the kiss and rested his head against yours, seeming truly distraught at having to interrupt.

You didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before you heard cheering from above you.

“Fucking finally!” James shouted as he pulled the tab of a party popper, showering the street below his balcony with multicoloured  confetti. 

“Pay up bitches; I told you this was the year.” Lily continued, holding her hand out expectantly as Marlene begrudgingly placed a few galleons into her friend's hand. 

“Oi!” Remus shouted at the group, a protective arm snaking around your middle as he held you closer to him as if he was worried you’d simply float away, “You better pay Pads his fair share then!”

You snorted and shoved your face into Remus’ neck - hiding your face as a ploy to get closer to him without it being nearly close enough. 

Remus chuckled as your friends filed back into the apartment and the world returned to its normal volume, bringing his free hand up to knead at your scalp in a way that made you want to purr like a sodding cat. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out, looking down at you with an expression nothing short of worship.

“You okay?” You asked then, bringing one hand up to draw a line down the bridge of his nose, simply because you could now.

“I’m perfect, you’re perfect.” Remus pressed, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss before he pressed his nose against the spot on your neck just past your jaw.

You instinctually let your head fall back; his hand tightening in your hair as he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and growl.

“Don’t sodding do that.” He scolded you playfully. 

“What?” You asked - half innocently half abashedly. 

“Submit to me, you minx.” He explained, booping you on the nose for extra effect. “Let me at least take you out on a date, first.”

A date, you echoed in your head; you had spent a lot of time daydreaming as a girl about what your first date with Remus would look like. You’d always imagined spending the day in Hogsmeade buying sweets and gobstones and books and quills before heading back up to the castle.

This was turning out way better already, though.

“So long as I don’t have to share you with James.” You joked, peering over Remus’ shoulder where you could see James peeking through the curtains before a flash of a camera went off.

“Hm…I’m not sure I can promise that for the first date, but definitely for the second.” 

“Deal.” You agreed readily, because really, you’d have Remus just about anyway you could have him. 

And you were simply overjoyed to know that he apparently felt the same.

[heyjudeb]

I'm proud of you - Jude Bellingham

Summary: Comforting sad and defeated Jude after England's loss. Warning: Sad moment, comforting Words: <1k

The referee blows the final whistle.

It was over. England lost. It all happened too quickly. Spain scoring in the last minutes didn't even give us time to process the situation.

I was sitting in the stands with Jude's family. We all shed a tear once the Spanish players started celebrating. Seeing Jude go off to the bench and kick something was a heartbreaking yet scary sight for me. Instantly, I knew that was going to be a sight for the media.

He's not like that at all. He just really wanted this win. With people being all over him, critiquing him, he really wanted to prove them wrong, to make England proud. I couldn't be more proud of him, though. He achieved amazing things in this competition.

As I watched him from afar, I wished I could just run down and hold him, tell him it was okay. I knew how much he had invested in this tournament, how much he had sacrificed. His dedication and his passio were the qualities that made him extraordinary. Those were the reasons why I fell in love with him.

Feeling an overwhelming urge to be closer to him, I excused myself from his family and made my way down to the lower stands, closer to the field. As I approached the edge, I saw Jude pacing back and forth, his frustration evident in every step. When he finally noticed me, our eyes locked. He hesitated for a moment, then walked over.

With his help, I crossed the barrier and immediately fell into his arms, holding his head tightly into my neck. I could feel him shaking from all the emotions he was going through.

"I messed up," he muttered, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"No, you didn't," I said firmly, my hand gently running through his hair. "You were incredible, baby. You gave it your all." He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't enough. It wasn't fucking enough." "Hey," I cupped his face gently, putting my forehead against his. "Listen to me. You were amazing out there. You fought so hard, and everyone saw it."

He didn't know what to say. I could see he wanted to let go of everything he was feeling, but the words wouldn't come.

"Just stay calm, baby," I tried to comfort him, reminding him that losing is part of the game and keeping his composure is important. "You can use this to come back even stronger."

I knew my words might not have a big impact on him in that moment. It was all still raw and fresh for him, so I simply held him tighter in my arms. He pulled back slightly, his eyes still glistening. "I have to go, baby. They're going to do the ceremony."

"I know," I said softly. He kissed my forehead.

"I'll meet you afterwards," I told him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He nodded, giving me one last look before turning and walking towards his teammates. As I walked up the stands to where his family was, I felt a mix of pride and heartache.

After England had their moment, Jude walked up to us and hugged his family. They all expressed how proud they were of him, trying not to show any sadness in front of him.

He sat down with his head low. I gently lifted his chin, earning a small, faint smile from him.

"I'm sorry for disappointing you guys," he managed to say to them.

I sat on his lap, holding him close to my chest. It pained me to see him like this, unable to erase his sadness.

"You never disappoint us, Jude," his mom reassured him, holding his hand tightly.

I arrived at my hotel room feeling exhausted and heartbroken for Jude. He had to return to the hotel with the team. There was nothing I wanted more than to have him in my arms and try to ease his sadness, even just a little. I was about to get into bed after finishing my nighttime routine when I heard a faint knock on the door. I opened it to find Jude standing there, his shoulders slumped and a tired look on his face. "They told me it's okay," he said quickly, grabbing my hand and leading me to the bed.

He took off his shirt and sweatpants and collapsed onto the bed, pulling me with him. His head immediately rested on my chest as he hugged me tightly.

"It's going to be okay, baby," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his head and kissing his forehead repeatedly. "These bad feelings will pass, trust me."

I ran my fingers through his hair, knowing it helped him relax and fall asleep. I kept kissing his forehead and cuddling him until I felt his grip around my waist loosen slightly, indicating he had fallen asleep.

"You'll always be my champion, baby," I whispered softly." I love you so much, Jude Bellingham."

[moonstruckme]

hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!

Thanks sweetheart, love you!

cw: alcohol

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words

You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 

“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 

“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 

James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 

You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 

James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.

“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 

You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 

He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 

A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 

Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 

He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 

“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 

“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 

“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 

“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 

Your mouth drops open. “James!” 

Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 

Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 

Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 

Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 

“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 

“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 

Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 

“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 

James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.

“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 

“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 

Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 

He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 

“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 

“Oh, right!” 

[heytheredelulu]

Unbreakable

Unbreakable Part 2 can be found here!

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

C/W: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, language

Summary: You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?

A/N: Look, I’ve been hormonal as hell for the last two weeks and it’s got me craving some angsty, soft, needy Bucky-

And some passionate, sensual baby makin’ sex.

So without further ado, please enjoy the longest fic I’ve ever written.

“Doll?” Bucky asked softly, kneeling down in front of you and lowering his head to your level in an attempt to draw your attention up from the book sprawled open in your lap.

You’d been much more reserved as of late and it was beginning to worry him. Your smile seemed a little weaker, a little more forced, and your overall demeanor had reversed; as if the bright light that you always exuded had been extinguished and you were now floating along on the furls of smoke that were left behind- here physically, but mentally you were always elsewhere.

“Hmm?”

You turn the page gently without looking up and Bucky sighs, reaching to carefully slide the book off your lap, snapping it shut and placing it on the coffee table.

“Look at me, angel.”

You let out a slow breath, lifting your head to meet your husband’s troubled gaze, his brows furrowed in concern.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna keep hiding out with your nose in a book all day?” He asks quietly, hoping that this time you’d open up, pull back the curtains you’d drawn so tightly and let him into those veiled thoughts of yours.

You shrug, trying to avert your eyes but his hand gently grasps your chin, tilting your face back towards him.

“Angel, please.”

You shake your head, afraid to share with him what’s been troubling you for weeks, afraid to dredge up long washed away agreements.

“It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, pinning you under his cerulean stare.

“Nah, it’s not stupid if it’s got you this worked up. C’mon.”

He affectionately tucks a piece of hair that had fallen loose when you’d shook your head back behind your ear before offering you a small smile that breaks your resolve and you feel the tears beginning to form on your lower lash line, the translucent beads of heartache obscuring your vision.

“I want a baby.” You whisper, immediately wishing you’d never uttered those four words once you see the corners of his lips begin to pull downwards.

When he slowly stands and takes a hesitant step backwards, that mask of stoicism you’ve worked for so long to peel away slipping back into place, your heart seizes in your chest.

“Bucky..” You plead, a tear slipping down your cheek as you rise from your seat and reach out for him, afraid you’ve pushed him too far with your admittance. “James.. Baby.”

He shakes his head, holding his palm out towards you in a feeble attempt to maintain his distance while he mulls over your confession but you press forward, placing your hand gently on his forearm.

“I need some air.” He mumbles, shrugging off your hand and moving quickly towards the door.

Before you can muster the voice to call out for him again, the door is closing behind him with a soft click and he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

You scold yourself, your mind reeling with the possibility that you may have said too much despite only saying so little when you hear his motorcycle roar to life out in the garage.

He was running again.

You’d known the idea of children was a difficult subject for Bucky. It had only come up in discussion a handful of times before and when it had, he was always quick to dismiss it, stating he’d be a terrible father before descending into a rabbit hole of self-deprecating comments you’d have to reach down and pull him out of with a steady hand of reassurance.

As time went on you’d pretty much conceded to the idea that you’d never have the chance to be a mother if you wanted to continue to live the life you’d built with the man that you loved and you’d grown to accept that fact. At the time it felt like a small price to pay for the joy and love that Bucky brought you but as the years went on and your friends and coworkers grew their families, welcoming new, bright eyed babies, you began to feel a sense of longing for what you had always thought you’d never want.

His behavior was so much different this time, the way he’d clammed up, shut you out and needed to completely remove himself from your presence. His reaction had never been so extreme before and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was how desperate you’d seemed- the tears in your eyes, the pleading in your tone.

Those thoughts and unanswered questions weighed heavily in your mind while you escaped the afternoon inside the pages of your book until the sun began to set through the bay window and you finally dragged yourself up to bed, your restless mind carrying you into a dreamless sleep.

It was nearly 2 in the morning when Bucky crept barefoot into your bedroom, the hall light bathing your sleeping figure in a corridor of fluorescent light as he quietly opened the door. His breath caught in his chest as he lingered in the doorway, this vision of you reminding him just why he always affectionately referred to you as his angel.

He shut the door softly behind him, shedding his t-shirt and jeans before gently pulling back the sheets, his heart and his cock simultaneously swelling when his gaze settled on the image of you in your silk night gown as it rode innocently up your supple thighs.

He crawled silently up the foot of the large bed, lowering himself onto his stomach and settling between your legs, his hands gently kneading the tender flesh of your thighs as a low and shuddered breath blew from his lips.

He carefully pushed the hem of the silk garment higher, exposing your cotton briefs and the soft flesh of your belly, moving to rest his head against the bare skin. His hand hesitantly caressed your abdomen.

All afternoon his head had been plagued with the fear of losing you, the feeling of inadequacy resulting from the pain in your tone when you confessed the desire for something he felt he could never provide.

But once alone with his thoughts as he tore down the interstate on his motorcycle, physically trying to outrun the deep rooted trauma of his past, the pieces began to fall into place for him.

You’d loved him unconditionally through his trauma, offered him unwavering support and shined light to the darkest depths of his soul, always seeing something inside him that he could never see in himself.

But you were fading. Becoming physically and emotionally withdrawn under the weight of sacrificing such a fundamental need that you craved- all for him.

Maybe he’d never overcome his past. Maybe there would always be a darkness beyond the surface that kept its claws dug deep into the innermost reaches of his subconscious.

Or maybe he had already overcome it and had just been so blinded by his own self loathing that he hadn’t realized. Surely if he was as cold and broken as he believed himself to be, he never would have been capable of loving you in the all encompassing way that he did.

You, the one person in his life that could melt the ice encapsulating his heart with only a flash of your warm smile.

He’d never wanted children. He always believed he’d be a terrible father but the desperation in your eyes when you confessed that you wanted a baby with him brought him to consider that maybe it had always been his own insecurities rearing their ugly head as they always did when he tried to imagine himself as anything more than the man he used to be.

His hand stroked idly across your bare abdomen in slow, languid movements as he tried to picture the soft flesh stretched and swollen with his child.

His child.

A life created from the love and the passion that the two of you shared, to raise in the home you’d built together, to nurture with the kindness that you exhumed and to mold into a better person than he could’ve ever hoped to have been with the guidance only someone as patient as you could provide.

He’d never wanted to be a father, never thought he was capable of being a father.

But you, you made him feel as if he were capable of anything and as he had pulled his motorcycle over onto the side of the highway and wept that evening, he knew now without question that he wanted- no, needed you to bring his child into this world.

“Baby?”

Your sleepy voice penetrated his thoughts as you spoke into the dark room and reached your hands down to tenderly run your fingers through his brunette locks.

“You came home.” You mumbled, trying to rouse from your slumber enough to properly talk to him.

Bucky raised his head off of your belly, sliding his hand up your torso, through the valley of your breasts to settle at your nape. He gently cupped your jaw and tilted your head to look at him as he hovered above you.

“Of course I came home.” He says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent it from quivering as your emotions begin to rise to the surface again.

“I don’t know. I just-“ You hesitate, worried that you’re toeing a fine line of sending him running again if you don’t choose your words carefully.

“Angel..”

He settles his thumb over your mouth, effectively silencing you as he gently strokes the pad of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip.

“I always come home.” He whispered, leaning down and tracing the tip of his nose across your jawline. “I will always come home to you.”

“I thought I’d scared you off.” You admit softlyly, reaching your hand down to caress his cheek, the light stubble rough against your skin.

He leans into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he draws in a shaky breath.

“You could never scare me off.”

His jaw clenches and he opens his eyes, looking at you with a haunted gaze.

“If anything I’m scared of myself, doll.”

You move to sit up, wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms, chase the demons from behind his eyes with the comfort of your loving embrace but he’s quick to place a large hand between your breasts, firmly pressing you back down onto the mattress.

“No.”

He repositions himself above you, dipping his head and bracing his weight on his muscular forearms as he trails a line of open mouthed kisses down your bare abdomen.

His breath fans against the soft cotton of your panties as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and removes them at a torturously slow pace.

“I don’t wanna talk about me and my bullshit.” He says in a low voice, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Actually, I don’t wanna talk at all.” He adds, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders.

“Bucky.” You warn softly, reaching your hand down to push his hair off his forehead. “We really should talk about this. We can’t avoi-”

He steals the words from you when he gently spreads your folds with his fingers, his breathy chuckle warm against your sex.

“I’ve got a much better way to make use of my mouth.” He murmurs, bowing his head and glancing up at you with lustful eyes. The image of him between your thighs, looking at you with such intensity was enough to silence you entirely.

“Let me show my angel what heaven feels like.”

A desperate moan rises from your throat as Bucky laps at your weeping cunt in long, slow strokes with his flattened tongue. He laves upward, tracing gentle circles around your clit, catching the swollen bud between his lips and suckling, your back arching off the mattress in response.

“Fuck.” You whimper, carding your hands in his hair to hold him in place.

He hums, flitting the tip of his tongue downwards and dipping into your fluttering hole, drawing a gasp from your throat as he fucks you with it, euphoria building at the base of your spine.

“For an angel-“ He mumbles and raises his head up, his unshaven chin slick with your arousal, pinning you under his gaze as he sinks two fingers inside you and begins pumping them slowly.

“You sure do taste like sin.” He muses.

He latches back onto your clit, flicking his tongue in quick movements while simultaneously curling his fingers inside you, stroking you closer towards climax with every ministration.

“Baby, I- fuck!”

Fire erupts through your core and you clench around his fingers, tightening your grip on his hair and jerking your hips upward to grind your cunt against his face as you cry out in ecstasy.

He chuckles against your tender flesh as he withdraws his digits, the warmth of his breath causing you to writhe against the sheets as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful when you come.” He whispers, wiping his mouth on his forearm and shifting his weight against the bed as he rises momentarily up to discard his boxers.

He positions himself above you, bracing himself on his palms, his biceps flexing as he dips down to press a kiss to your pulse point.

Dazed and breathless, you reach down to guide him to your entrance, pausing when your hand curls around the warmth of his bare cock.

“Shit, condom.” You mumble, working to maneuver yourself out from under him in order to reach towards the bedside table.

He stops you with a loose grasp around your throat, gently pushing you back into the pillows.

“Don’t need one.” He breathes out, settling himself between your slick thighs.

Your brows furrow in confusion and your mouth falls open in question but he carefully slides his hand up your neck to grip your jaw, pulling you into a deep and sensual kiss.

You slide your hands across the expanse of his toned back, returning the kiss with equal intensity before he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.

He silently guides your hand to his hard and aching cock, closing your fist around it as he releases a shuddered breath against cheek.

“You’re gonna take my cock.” He grunts, peppering kisses across your jawline. “You’re gonna take my cum.”

He bucks his hips against your grip, urging you to bring him against your weeping hole.

“And you’re going to have my baby.”

Your eyes widen at his words, the quiver in his voice telling you this isn’t just some form of dirty talk but that he’s sincere and desperate.

“Bucky, are you sure?” You ask in a broken whisper, clarifying for good measure.

“You are going to have my baby.” He repeats, his voice carrying demand.

You let out a whimper, lining him up with your entrance and withdrawing your hand once he presses the leaking tip of his cockhead into your cunt, quickly burying himself inside you with a purposeful thrust of his hips.

You gasp at the stretch and he stills, his pelvis flush against you, sucking in a sharp breath at the way your inner walls are gripping him, free of the confines of a condom for the very first time.

“Goddamnit, angel. I don’t think I’m going to last very long.” He chokes out, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt engulfing his cock leaving him nearly breathless.

God, what he would do to stay inside you like this forever.

He draws his hips back, retreating almost completely before thrusting back into you. His lips part and his brows knit, breathy moans rising from his throat as he picks up a rhythm, his very soul craving to feel you around every inch of his length.

His hunger for you is apparent with every deep and merciless thrust and that sense of needful longing sets your every nerve ablaze.

He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you frantically as reaches for your hands, lacing your fingers together in a fervent grip.

Pleasure pools low in your abdomen and you bring your trembling legs up to wrap around his waist, rolling your hips up in sync with his strokes as you chase your climax.

He groans in response and increases his pace, his heavy sack slapping against your ass with every frenzied rut into you.

“Oh fuck, please, baby. Please come on my cock. God, I need to feel you. Fuck, fuck!” He pleads with a shuddering breath that betrays how desperately he’s fighting to maintain his tempo as he climbs closer towards the edge with every passing second.

The sight of this beautiful man barely able to refrain from falling apart for you, begging for you to come on his cock, is enough to break you. White hot pleasure spreads through your core, flooding your body in a wave of euphoria as you cry out for him in choked sobs.

“Bucky! James, baby!”

He pounds into you at a brutal pace, incapable of holding himself back any longer, drawing strangled noises from you as he fucks you through the waves of the orgasm gripping your body.

“I love you, I love you, I-“ You whimper over and over in a cock-drunk stupor, rocking your pelvis sloppily against his movements.

He grunts, his hips stuttering as he stammers out your name in a breathless plea before giving one final deep thrust and he stills, emptying himself inside you with a throaty moan.

Bucky slumps forward burying his face into your neck, words of praise falling from his lips in a whisper against your skin as you remain in each other's embrace, hearts racing and chests heaving in the afterglow.

The steady thumping of his heartbeat begins to lul you towards a state of peaceful sleep and as your eyes slip closed, you feel the bitter emptiness of him withdrawing from inside you only to jerk back to full consciousness at the sensation of his fingertips against the tender flesh of your swollen cunt.

As you start to rise up on your elbows in order to better observe what it is he’s doing, he softly shushes you, smirking as he trails his fingers along your slit, gathering up any of his seed that had managed to escape your aching hole and gently pump it back in with his fingers.

“Not letting you waste a drop.” He murmurs, collapsing onto the bed beside you and reaching an arm around your waist to pull your back against his broad chest.

He envelops you in his warmth, his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you as he rests his nose against the crown of your head, slowly and deeply inhaling your scent.

“What made you change your mind?” You ask softly, snuggling your cheek against the bicep of his flesh arm.

His vibranium arm drapes across your abdomen and he splays his palm above your pelvic bone, gently brushing the cool metal of his thumb back and forth in affectionate strokes along your bare skin.

“You.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. “How the hell did I manage to change your mind about something you were so adamant about? We didn’t even talk about it, Buck. I just told you what I wanted.”

He sighs, settling his chin atop your head. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He admits in a low voice. “But you know I’m a man of few words, angel.”

“But that doesn’t mean we just avoid the subject completely and then jump headfirst into this. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I need to understand how you managed to get here. That was- this was unexpected.” You respond, placing a gentle hand over his forearm and stroking your fingertips lazily across the spray of soft, dark curls adorning it. “You say you’re a man of few words but I know damn well you have a lot to say, you just don’t like saying it. You don’t like grappling with your emotions, Bucky. I think maybe its because you spent so long having them repressed against your will.”

He’s silent for a beat before drawing in a slow breath and in those several moments of quiet you feel a rising sense of dread that maybe you had overstepped with your assessment.

“Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?” He asks quietly, his thumb stilling against your lower belly.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What?” You question, your own fingers slowing their leisurely circles along his arm. “Baby, you’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.” He explains, raising his head, his thumb resuming its languid strokes across your skin. “Just answer my question.”

You huff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes by instead moving them back and forth to follow the movements of his thumb. “It’s a pet name, like baby or doll.”

He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“It’s a pet name, yeah. But do you know why I call you that?” He asks.

You shrug. “No, I guess I don’t.” You reply, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you gonna tell me?”

His lips curve into a smile as he looks down at you and in the dim light of the bedroom you notice how glassy his eyes appear, as if he’s just a blink away from a tear escaping his blue eyes.

“Because you saved me.” He whispers with a small crack in his voice that makes your heart ache. You want to ask him how- how he could possibly say something as bold as that you saved him, but your breath is caught in your chest at the vulnerability Bucky is showing you in this moment.

“Baby, when you met me I was so broken. I think maybe I still am.” He continues, resting his cheek against your shoulder in a clear attempt to hide his expression from you because he was stubborn and you were right. Emotion was not something Bucky expressed freely because he spent nearly his entire life with them suppressed so if he had any hope of baring his soul to you now, he couldn’t possibly let you see his face as he did it.

“No one dared to get close to me because they were too afraid of getting cut on the shattered pieces of who I was. But not you. Never you.” He explains, pausing as he draws in a slow and shaky breath while he considers how to express how much you mean to him when he wasn’t entirely sure there were even words capable of doing so.

In his brief pause you shift your weight, rolling over to face him properly before he continues.

“You didn’t care if you got cut because you saw something in me worth believing in and you weren’t afraid to bleed to get to it. You rebuilt me. You saved me.” His voice is hoarse as he struggles to hold his composure and keep from breaking down completely. “Your faith in me gave me hope- it gives me hope that maybe I’m capable of more than I think I am.”

A single tear finally breaks free, slipping free of his lashes and sliding slowly down his cheek in the wake of his heart lay bare to you.

“You give me too much credit.” You whisper, reaching up to brush away his tear with a trembling thumb. Your touch lingers on his skin and he places his hand overtop yours, pressing your palm to his cheek as he pins you under his tender gaze.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He counters.

“Neither do you.”

He opens his mouth to argue but closes it and sighs when he realizes you’re right. You’re always right.

“I love you. I love all of you- every single piece, including ones you say are broken.” You whisper, offering him a soft smile as you gently push the hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“They are broken.” He breathes out.

“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, could you really love me the way that you do? Think about it, Bucky. After everything you’ve suffered? You’re not broken, you’re unbreakable.”

He hesitates, running his hand down his face to mask the way it crumples at your words and wipe away the tears now falling steadily down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers.

You sit upright, leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You deserve everything, Bucky. Life owes you love. It owes you kindness for fucks sake.”

“Not after what I’ve done.” He mutters, the ghosts of his past flickering behind his eyes as he begins to retreat down that godforsaken rabbit hole inside his head again but you won’t allow it. Not this time.

“Especially after what you’ve done. Because you weren’t given a choice.”

He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can’t bear to let you see him this way.

“And what happens when they find out who- what I used to be?” He asks in a pained tone, nodding towards your belly as if he somehow believes his seed has already taken root in your womb. “They’ll find out. We won’t be able to shelter them from the truth.”

“Baby, look at me.” You demand, your expression stern as you rise up and lean forward on your knees. “Will it matter when they only know you as the you that you truly are? How can I make you see yourself the way that I see you?”

Bucky sighs, his shoulders slouching. “What would I do without you?” He asks quietly, resting his hand against your thigh and kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

“Never have clean laundry or dishes.” You tease in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood. He stares up at you in disbelief for several long moments before unexpectedly delivering a swift smack to your bare ass, drawing a yelp from you that is immediately followed by a string of lighthearted giggles.

“Damnit, doll- I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” You argue, stifling a laugh. “I found a cereal bowl under the bed!”

He groans, covering his face with his hands. “It was one time.”

You smirk, your eyebrow quirking up in skepticism.

“That’s one time too many.”

“You’re ridiculous.” He grumbles.

“But you love me.”

He hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace with a dramatic groan and you rest your head against his chest, draping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” He whispers, tracing his fingertips along your spine. “More than I could ever begin to explain.”

“A broken man couldn’t love me. A broken man wouldn’t know how to love me.” You point out. “And God, baby- you make me feel loved every moment of every single day.”

His breath catches and you can hear his heartbeat begin to quicken in his chest against your ear before he rolls over abruptly, pinning you underneath him as he looks down at you with an expression of adoration and that familiar fire in his gaze.

You tilt your chin up, a grin stretching across your face as you place your palm against his chest and state proudly, “You are James Buchanan Barnes and you are-“

He devours the words from your mouth before you can finish speaking them as he kisses you with urgency, stealing the breath from your lungs with the way his mouth moves desperately against yours.

Your hands explore his toned back, the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch driving you to greedily draw his body closer to yours until he settles his weight onto you.

He breaks the kiss with a smirk on his lips as your head falls back, sucking in a sharp inhale at the warmth of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of your bare thigh, already hard and weeping for you again.

He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against your temple as he completes your stolen sentence in a whisper against the shell of your ear:

“Unbreakable.”

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[retroactivebakeries]

It is almost five centuries ago, and the girl who will one day be a swordswoman is lying in the red-tinged mud. She can't get up—broken bone? severed tendon? She can't tell. She's yet to cultivate her palate for pain. Her enemy towers over her, a cataphract mailed in screaming steel and poisoned light. His warhammer falls, and it is death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable.

"No," says a part of her. She is not even seventeen years old. Her body is mangled and broken, wound piled upon wound piled upon wound. A dull kitchen knife is her only weapon, though she lost that in the mud the second her grip faltered. Her enemy is no thing of this earth. And yet—

"No. It is not death, forever death, death unconquered and unconquerable. It is only a hammer, falling. It is only 'an attack.'"

And the girl understood.

~~~

It is the better part of three centuries ago, as best the swordswoman can reckon, and she is beset on all sides by foes. They are not monsters—just mountain bandits, or highland rebels, as one cares to see it. But they outnumber her by dozens, and even an exceptional swordswoman might struggle against but two opponents of lesser skill.

From in front of her, beside her, behind her they advance, striking from every angle with spears and blades and axes. Others fill the air with arrows, sling stones, firepots. It would be effortless, to parry any single blow. It would be impossible, physically impossible, to defend against them all.

"No," says a part of her.

"You are not outnumbered. You do not face 'multiple' foes. It would be impossible to defend against every attack — but there is no 'every' attack. Only one."

"Oh," the swordswoman said. And it was, in fact, effortless.

~~~

It is eighty years ago, or thereabouts. A coiling spire of stony flesh and verdigrised copper throbs like a tumor on the horizon, coaxed from the earth by spell and sacrifice. It is the tower of a sorcerer-prince, and a birthing place of abominations.

Seven locks of rune-etched metal are opened with her single key. Wretched shapeling beasts, grown by sorcery in vitreous nodules, flee wailing from her, absconding before she even draws her blade. Demons sworn to thousand-year pacts of service find the binding provisions of their agreements unexpectedly severed.

These things dissatisfy the sorcerer-prince. He waxes wroth. He makes signs of power and chants incantations. With a flask of godling's blood, he draws the binding sigil inscribed upon the moon's dark face. With cold fire burning in his eyes, he speaks the secret name of Death. It is a king among curses, all-corrupting, all-consuming, and it falls from his lips upon the swordswoman.

"No," she says, and she turns it aside with her blade.

The sorcerer-prince's brow furrows. How did she even do that?

"Parried it."

But—

"With my sword."

No—

"See, like this."

Stop—

"Well," the swordswoman finally says, "I figured that if I just...looked at it right, and thought about it, and construed your curse as a kind of attack...then I could block it."

That's not how it works at all!

"If you insist," says the swordswoman, shrugging, and decapitates him.

~~~

It is now. It is the end. Death couldn't take the swordswoman, not when she'd spent all her life cutting it up. At times, Death might sidle up to one of her friends, or peer down into a grandchild's crib, and she'd just give it a look. That's all it took, by then.

Heartache couldn't take her, either. Bad things happened to her, and they hurt, and she lived in that hurt, but if it was ever more than she could take...she'd just, move her sword in a way that's difficult to describe. And she'd keep going.

Kingdoms fell, and she kept going. Continents crumbled and sank into the sea. Her planet's star faded and froze. She started carrying a lantern. Universes were torn apart and scattered, until all that had been matter was redistributed in thermodynamic equilibrium. With one exception.

But now it is the end. There is no time left; time is already dead. The swordswoman has outlived reality, but there is simply no further she can go. This is not a thing that can be blocked. This is the absence of anything further to block.

"No," says the girl who will one day be a swordswoman. "This isn't the ending. And even if it was, it's not the ending that matters."

The swordswoman looks back at who she was, at the countless selves she's been between them. She looks forward, at the rapidly contracting point that remains of the future. She grasps the all of linear time in her mind, and sees that it is shaped like a spear.

[youreverydayfangirl]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's gone radio silent, everyone settles down and someone begins to plot revenge

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: i thought i should switch between real life and online so i could feed you guys more

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate healing with my girls

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex what are friends for???

-> y/nsprivate I THOUGH JUST BEING HOT TBH

keekslikestospammmm and you better get your cute but downstairs cause we're going out

-> y/nsprivate OKAYY GIVE ME TWO SECONDS

leosfather GO QUEEN

-> y/nsprivate alex is training you i see

livbereallydumb SMASH SMASH SMASH

-> y/nsprivate me whenever i see you

itssabrinaaa YOU DON'T NEED NO TINY DICK MAN AND SKANKY FRIEND

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

________________

Y/n felt a small smile creep up across her face as she went to turn off her phone. She looked up at the warm sun which had begun to set, casting a golden glow along the beach infront of her. The peaceful quiet of the beach was a sharp contrast to the chaos and heartache she had left behind. Still, it had been hard to stay in the moment and she often found her mind drifting back to everything that had happened. Something that seemed to play over and over in her head. Although it seemed everyone else had moved on.

She'd barely touched her phone, forced to reinvent herself and tune out what others had kept saying about her. The whispers, the hate and the betrayal had gone with a swipe of her finger. But the sting of it lingered, a wound that refused to heal.

She quickly grabbed her stuff and shoved it in the bag which lay beside her feet as her mind went to the two girls who were currently waiting in the lobby. They had been rocks for her through this whole ordeal. The trip was supposed to be a fresh start for y/n, a place to forget, but somethings weren't so easily buried.

Y/n hadn't been able to fully trust anyone since exbsf had turned her life upside down. The breakup, the voice recording, it was all too perfect.

Revenge is what had kept circling through Y/ns mind over the past few months. A lot of people had hurt her, turned against her, but their was one person specifically that Y/n kept thinking about. Maybe she wasn’t healing just yet. Maybe she was plotting her rise.

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate not even sad anymore guys, just really mad tbh

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex AND AS YOU SHOULD YOU CLOCK EM

-> y/nsprivate you know i will

keekslikestospamm NEW SONG YOU BETTER SHOW US SOON

-> y/nsprivate trust me i will

________________

Y/n found her self sitting infront of the piano for the first time since everything had come out. She hadn't wanted to, because that would mean that it was real.

But after pushing from both Alex and Kika, the girl finally felt like she was in a spot were she could poor out her feelings. But something felt different this time, she had never felt this angry before.

She sat at her desk, the sunset infront of her casted a shadow across her face. Her notebook was open, was scribbled sharply expressing her inner turmoil. She tapped her pen on her desk, staring at the page infront of her, one line sticking out specifically.

All I think about is karma.

exbsf & landonorris have posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 432, 749 others

exbsf 6 months with you <3

tagged: landonorris

landonorris my gorgeous girl

-> exbsf your too cute

user1 I CANT BELIEVE THEYVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 6 MONTHS OMG

user2 parents frfr

liked by creator

user3 pov its been 5 months since y/n disappeared 😭

-> user4 GOOD RIDDANCE

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate smiling more

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm

thatoneartgirlalex and happy to see it

-> y/nsprivate stop i love you so much

keekslikestospammmm i can still through hands though right?

-> y/nsprivate KEEKS NO

leosfather as your honorary big brother i could not be prouder to see how much you've grown as a person

-> y/nsprivate CHARLIE STOP

livbereallydumb I JUST WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG HUG

-> y/nsprivate you saw me yesterday....

itssabrinaaa livbereallydumb wanna come to portofino with me for no specific reason

-> livbereallydumb already on the flight babes

-> y/nsprivate YOU GUYS BETTER NOT BE KIDDING RIGHT NOW ASSHHH

-> itssabrinaaa SUPRISE

-> livbereallydumb we wanted to make it a bigger thing then realised we dont really know where to go and we dont speak italian

-> itssabrinaaa didnt think that one through 100%

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

TWO WEEKS LATER

________________

im trying to make the parts longer cause i feel like there too short

also do you guys like the switch i feel like i wanna give you guys more than just short SMAU chpaters

_________________

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[shuafiles]

lie to girls [l.jn] preview

SUMMARY | it was hard watching jeno struggle with his relationship, but it was even harder when he ran to you for comfort every time. especially when you, his long-time best friend, have been in love with him for the longest time. but when jeno starts lying about where he’s going and who he’s with, you realize the biggest lie might be the one you’re telling yourself—that he’ll ever choose you. or girls will cry, and girls will lie, and girls will lose their goddamn minds for you.

PAIRING | nonidol!jeno x afab!reader

CONTENT | university au, angst, best friends to ?, aespa members included, cheating, swearing, drinking, smut (not everything is included in the teaser yet but just so you know whats in store)

WORDS | 855 (just this teaser)

A/N | sneak peek of what im working on! im planning on making this a looong one but i was too excited so i decided to share without spoiling too much. let me know if you like it! total wc is still unknown and the release date will hopefully be before november ends. also its my birthday today so heres my gift to you :D

“hey.” jeno greeted you, standing at your front door, which only meant one thing. they fought again.

you pushed the door wider, letting him inside. he looked like a mess, his shoulders slumped, dark bags around his eyes, hair disheveled. even from afar, you could tell he was going through something. his phone was in his hand, checking for notifications, but he let out a huge sigh when the home screen was empty.

“do i even want to know?” you prodded, eyes watching him as he plopped down on the couch. his head tilting back on the headrest, head filled with thoughts.

“you know how she is.” jeno mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. “said she needed some space.”

unfortunately, i do know how she is. jeno’s girlfriend, karina. they’ve been together since first year of college when jeno met her at some random party. they were the kind of couple on campus that, at first glance, seemed perfect, but you knew all too well what kind of chaos haunted them in private. you were too familiar with how she behaved with jeno; most of the time, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

jeno didn’t even have to say anything when you saw him at your front door. you have grown accustomed to this pattern: the same heartache, apologies, and cycle of hope and disappointment. and every time it occurred, jeno ended up here—at your door, at your couch, sulking.

you wanted nothing more than to scold jeno for letting himself get run over by her, but you kept your lips sealed. deciding that giving him comfort and support was probably what he needed right now.

“again, huh?” you sat down on the opposite side of him, tucking your legs beneath you.

“i don’t even know what that means, y/n.” jeno sighed, running his hand through his hair. he lifted his head to face you, gaze soft as he held eye contact with you. “one minute, everything’s perfect, and we’re fine, but suddenly, i’ve apparently done something wrong, and she won't even tell me.” his voice cracked, hopelessness evident in his tone. it pained you to see him like this. how many times is he going to let her do this to him?

“well, did you do something wrong?” you asked, but you knew jeno too well, he wouldn’t do anything to sabotage his relationship. sure, he has made mistakes in the past, but he was a good person, a good friend, and a good lover, you suppose.

jeno stayed silent for a moment, recalling if he had done something to make his girlfriend upset. “i–no, at least i don’t think so.” he shook his head, “i’ve just been busy with classes, but i always make time for her. and everything we’re together, i always try to make it special. you know?”

you nodded along to his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you have heard this story countless times, so you could probably recite it to him. it wasn’t unusual for karina to act like this; she’d get upset over something vague, and then jeno would beat himself up for it, but he’d still bend over backward to get her back.

“maybe she’s just going through something?” you said, trying to think of what to say to ease his mind.

you and karina were acquaintances at best. it’s not like you didn’t try to be her friend, but something about her attitude just seems so off-putting to you. you weren’t entirely sure if karina was fond of you either. of course, you never told jeno any of these. you knew he wouldn’t listen, not when it comes to her. he loves her. he’d return to her every time, like a moth to a flame. and you’d be there, picking up the pieces when he got burned.

“i wish she’d just tell me what’s on her mind instead of leaving me wondering what i did wrong.” his face twisted into frustration with a mix of confusion.

“jen, you know i can’t help you if you don’t tell her what you’re feeling.” this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you’re supposed to tell her these, not me.”

jeno flinched at your words, somehow unsatisfied with your advice. “yeah… you’re right.”

you watched his expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he was deep in thought. “i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.” you hesitated, knowing you were treading dangerous waters. “i just think… you deserve someone who actually appreciates you.”

jeno stayed silent, processing your words as if he hadn’t told himself that a million times. but for some stupid reason, he couldn’t keep it in his head. he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen once more, but to his disappointment, there was still nothing. “i know you’re just looking out for me, y/n. but… i just can’t give up on her. not yet.”

and just like that, you could feel him slipping away, back into her orbit, leaving you alone with all the things you couldn’t say, wondering when he would run back to you again.

[areislol]

ㅤㅤAN ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION — AL HAITHAM + KAVEH

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAnd what the hell were we? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTell me we weren't just friends

pairings. al haitham x fem/afab! reader x kaveh

warnings. MDNI/READ WITH CAUTION, lowercase intended, not an established relationship but kaveh/al haitham both harbour feelings for you and vice versa, college! au, best friends, reader is a virgin, accidental confession, both al haitham and kaveh focus on you, 18+ themes, explicit content, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), porn with feelings, foreplay, threesome, p in v, praise, protection kings!! rough/soft kissing, needy kaveh, soft dom! kaveh, dom! al haitham

synopsis. both al haitham and kaveh are fed up with an upset you arriving home at 1 in the morning, eyes red and puffy from crying over your date who turned out to be like the rest of the other guys you've went on a date with, a jerk.

wordcount. 9.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfriends

you stood before the mirror, meticulously adjusting the folds of your outfit, every detail carefully curated after hours of contemplation. tonight was yet another date—your fifth one.

however, as you made your final preparations, alhaitham's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his tone laced with veiled annoyance.

"where are you going?" he questioned, his gaze scrutinizing your dolled-up appearance.

with a sigh, you turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of resignation. "i'm going out," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "another date."

alhaitham's brow furrowed in frustration, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "another date?" he repeated, his annoyance palpable. "you know how these always end up. every man you go out with ends up being a jerk."

beside him, kaveh nodded in silent agreement, his expression mirroring alhaitham's. "it's like you're drawn to the wrong kind of guys," he added, his voice filled with concern.

"i know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "but i have to keep trying, don't i? i can't give up hope that someday, i'll find the right one sooner or later."

kaveh's expressions softened with understanding, alhaitham on the other hand wouldn't let this slide. his brows furrowed hidden anger as he continued to stare at you.

after a couple of seconds, kaveh stepped forward, enveloping you in a warm embrace. "just promise us one thing," he murmured, his voice gentle yet firm. "promise us that you'll be careful, that you won't let anyone hurt you."

you returned the embrace, feeling the weight of his words resonate deep within your soul. "i promise," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'll be careful."

alhaitham let out a deep sigh, his eyes screwed shut. "i still don't approve of this but you better keep your promise. just give us a call if anything happens, we'll be waiting."

you nod your head, offering him a tender smile. you make sure that you look perfect before putting on your shoes and waving goodbye to your best friends. they return the wave, wishing you luck.

the door clicks shut, leaving the apartment shrouded in a heavy silence.

"... why did you wish her luck?" alhaitham asked, raising his brow. kaveh groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. "i don't know, i did it by instinct, i think." he replied.

they had been down this road countless times before, watching as each of your dates inevitably ended in disappointment and heartache.

with a heavy sigh, alhaitham sank into the nearest chair, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and concern. "i don't know how much longer we can keep doing this," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

kaveh nodded in silent agreement, his gaze fixed on the floor. "i know," he murmured with regret. "but what can we do? we can't just sit back and let her do this to herself."

a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside. for a moment, alhaitham and kaveh sat in contemplative silence, grappling with the weight of their unspoken feelings for you—their roommate, their best friend.

finally, alhaitham broke the silence, his voice tinged with determination. "we need to do something," he declared, his gaze meeting kaveh's with unwavering resolve. "we can't keep ignoring how we feel about her."

kaveh nodded in agreement, a flicker of determination sparking in his eyes. "you're right," he replied, his voice low and almost airy. "but what can we do?" alhaitham didn't respond, he stared down at his slippers and sat up straight.

"i don't know. we'll just have to wait and see."

standing in front of the elegant restaurant, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

the anticipation of the evening ahead filled you with a sense of eager anticipation as you checked the time on your phone—7:00 PM, right on the dot of your agreed time.

as you wait for your date to arrive, you can't help but admire the appearance of the restaurant, its ornate facade and inviting ambience promising a night of culinary delights along with the loud and enchanting conversation.

yet, as the minutes ticked by and your date failed to make an appearance, a knot of unease began to form in the pit of your stomach.

you glanced at your phone once more, the digital clock mocking you with its unyielding display of time. 7:05 PM. 7:10 PM. still no sign of your date. a sense of disappointment washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore, mingled with slight frustration at being kept waiting.

for a brief moment, doubt crept into your mind—had your date forgotten about your plans? or worse, had they stood you up altogether? amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't help but cling to a glimmer of hope, a small voice whispering that perhaps there was a reasonable explanation for their lateness.

with a deep breath, you resolved to give him a few more minutes, your nervousness was gnawing at your heart. you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights. as the minutes stretched into an eternity, you finally made the decision to go inside the restaurant, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation weighing heavily on your shoulders.

you made your way to a table for two, the empty chair across from you a stark reminder of your dashed hopes and unfulfilled expectations.

as you settled into your seat, the waiter approached with a warm smile. "good evening, madam," she greeted, her tone gentle and reassuring. "are you ready to order?"

you shook your head in response, a bitter taste lingering on your tongue as you explained the situation. "i'm actually waiting for my date," you admitted, "but it seems they're running late."

the waiter's smile faltered slightly, a pang of sympathy flashing across her features as she nodded in understanding. "i'm sorry to hear that," she murmured, her voice laced with genuine concern. "i hope they show up soon."

the waiter couldn't help but bite down on her lower lip, she had seen this scenario play out countless times before—lovers left waiting, hopes dashed, and dreams shattered. and even so, she couldn't help but hold onto a sliver of hope, praying that your date would arrive.

with a sympathetic smile, the waiter left you to your thoughts, giving you the space and time, you continued sitting there, surrounded by the soft hum of conversation and the tantalizing aroma of delicious food.

as the minutes dragged on and the sympathetic looks from surrounding tables grew more pronounced, you found yourself struggling to maintain your composure under the weight of their silent scrutiny.

the whispers and glances sent in your direction felt like daggers to your already wounded heart, with a heavy sigh, you realized that you couldn't bear to endure another moment of the pitying stares and hushed conversations.

you couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment and regret crashing into you, you really should've listened to them. your eyes remained on the clothed table,

pushing back your chair, you rose from your seat and made your way towards the exit, the eyes of the other diners following your every move with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

as you reached the door, you ignored the prying eyes and hard gazes, you stepped out into the cool night air, the weight of disappointment heavy on your shoulders.

with each step you took away from the restaurant, a sense of relief washed over you, the oppressive atmosphere of the dining room gradually fading into the distance.

alone with your thoughts and emotions, you stopped just a couple of steps from the door—reaching into the pocket of your jacket you pulled out your phone, about to call alhaitham and explain, once again, about how your date went.

just as you were about to press the "call" button your finger was just hanging above the screen, was it really a good idea to call him now? you knew how this would play out.

"i told you so"

"what did i tell you?"

"when will you ever learn your lesson..."

the last thing you wanted to hear was alhaitham scolding you and his "i told you so". letting out a frustrated sigh you click your phone shut and stuff it back into your pocket. you decided to just walk home instead.

it wasn't that dark out, the sky was a mixture of dark blue and a slight tinge of orange hue. you tried your best to distract yourself with what was in your view but that was to no avail. you already knew what was going to happen as soon as you opened the door.

it was a reoccurring thing between you, kaveh and alhaitham. every time you went out on a date they would sigh in disappointment and try to talk you out of it but of course, it never worked.

despite your differences, a bond had quickly formed, forged through late-night conversations, shared meals, and the occasional movie marathon.

as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months and months turned into years, your apartment became a sanctuary—a haven where laughter echoed through the halls and memories were woven into the very fabric of the walls.

unbeknownst to each other, alhaitham and kaveh harboured feelings for you, their affections hidden behind smiles and casual banter. and in the quiet moments of the night, as you lay in bed lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your own feelings mirrored theirs—a thought that both thrilled and terrified you.

as you made your way to your shared apartment you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt right through your chest, your two best friends who you knew cared deeply about you were always trying to help, and yet here you were, walking back home in the darkness after being stood up by your fifth date.

you heaved a great sigh, disappointed in yourself. once i go inside, i'll definitely apologize to them! you said to yourself before finally arriving at your apartment. you mentally prepared yourself and let out a sigh before shoving the key into the keyhole and turning the lock.

you were finally home with... two clearly disappointed and concerned men.

you knew that as soon as you opened the door, a wave of bickering would hit you in the face, not that you really minded most of the time.

—

the memory of that night still lingers vividly in your mind, more so when your dates leave you staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong. you’re at the akademiya, seated at a study table under the soft, golden light of a desk lamp.

kaveh sits across from you, gesturing animatedly, a frustrated yet passionate artist explaining his latest design concepts. alhaitham sits beside you, quiet but ever-present, nose buried in a book, his occasional interjections laced with sharp wit aimed squarely at kaveh’s more extravagant claims.

"listen," kaveh says, leaning forward, his blonde hair falling slightly into his eyes. "do you know how hard it is to convince some people that aesthetics and functionality can coexist? alhaitham, for example, wouldn't know—"

"they can coexist," alhaitham interrupts, not looking up from his book. "but not when your design priorities lean toward creating monuments to your own ego."

you laugh, the sound drawing both of their gazes to you. kaveh’s annoyed expression softens, while alhaitham finally looks up from his book, his usual unreadable mask slipping just slightly.

"maybe if you stopped bickering for five minutes, i could help you settle this debate," you suggest, playfully bumping alhaitham’s arm. he looks at where your elbow touched his sleeve, then back to your face, the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips.

"unlikely," he says, but his tone lacks its usual sharpness.

kaveh groans. "honestly, how do you even put up with him? the man has the emotional range of a piece of petrified wood."

"better than being a storm of emotions no one asked for," alhaitham counters smoothly, making you laugh again.

the tension between them eases slightly at the sound, though neither of them would admit it. for a brief moment, there’s a silent understanding between the three of you, a shared connection that feels warm and unspoken. it’s a moment you’d later remember with a pang of nostalgia during one of your many failed dates—a reminder of the comfort and ease you find in their presence, even amid their constant bickering.

the night stretches on, and kaveh’s complaints blur into alhaitham’s occasional quips, you catch them both stealing glances at you when they think you’re not looking. kaveh’s gaze is warm, like sunlight filtering through leaves, while alhaitham’s lingers, as if trying to decipher a puzzle he hasn’t yet solved.

it’s a memory that clings to you, even as you sit through yet another disastrous date.

—

you pushed the side of the door open, being careful and slow with your movements as if that would magically make alhaitham and kaveh not notice you.

the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit interior of your apartment, a wave of apprehension washed over you like a cold, unforgiving tide. and there they were, just as you had feared—alhaitham and kaveh, sitting opposite of each other on the couch, their expressions a curious mix of concern and amusement.

alhaitham, ever the observant one, wore a knowing smirk on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he met your gaze. he didn't need to hear your explanation—he knew exactly what had transpired during your date, and he was more than eager to tease you about it.

suppressing a sigh, you mustered up a weak smile, steeling yourself for the inevitable barrage of questions and teasing remarks that were sure to follow. "hey guys," you greeted, "i'm back."

kaveh nodded his head, his expression more subdued than alhaitham's, yet no less filled with concern. "welcome back," he murmured, his tone gentle. "how'd the date go? judging by the looks of it..."

his voice trailed off as he observed your face, you were clearly upset. "it didn't go well. you didn't call me or kaveh because you knew that we would scold you, right? did you really think that i wouldn't know?"

alhaitham's words were abrupt and caught you off guard. you swallowed the lump in your throat before letting your eyes rest and nod your head hesitantly, you were just going to blurt out everything.

"you're right. i just... look i'm sorry that i never listen to you guys, i know you guys care about me and i never listened to your advice and—"

you were cut off by the sudden sensation of a warm palm cupping your cheek. your eyes peeled open and to your shock alhaitham was right there, right in front of you. his face just inches away from yours.

caught off guard by alhaitham's sudden gesture, you froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as his warm hands cupped your cheeks gently. his touch sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a flutter of butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you met his sharp gaze with wide eyes.

his eyes held a warmth and intensity that sent your heart racing, a faint blush painting his cheeks in a delicate shade of pink. have you ever seen him so flustered before?

words failed you as you searched for something, anything, to say in response to his unexpected display of affection. the air between you crackled with unspoken tension.

there was a pregnant pause, and before you knew it alhaitham's lips parted, his voice a soft murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "i've been wanting to do this for a while," he admitted, his tone laced with longing.

a rush of emotions surged within you—confusion, excitement, love… lust. you had always harboured a deep affection for alhaitham (and kaveh), a connection that transcended the boundaries of friendship, yet you had never dared to voice your true feelings, fearing that the confession would change your friendship for the worse.

kaveh's sudden intervention shattered the intimacy between you and alhaitham, leaving a palpable tension hanging in the air. as kaveh placed his hand on alhaitham's shoulder, his glare bore into his roommate with intensity.

"i thought we agreed that we would take this slow," kaveh's voice was low and laced with a hint of frustration, "and that i could do the first move?!"

take this slow? kaveh doing the first move? what did he mean by that? were they planning something?

alhaitham remained silent, his focus unwavering as his eyes remained locked on you, his expression unreadable as his gaze roamed your face with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine.

you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of his scrutiny stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you.

in that moment of hesitation, uncertainty gripped you like a vice, squeezing tight around your chest as you struggled to make sense of the tangled web of emotions unravelling before you. a part of you longed to just smash your lips against his.

but another part of you wants to push him away, you knew someone like alhaitham or kaveh wouldn't be interested in you, absolutely no way and chance. maybe alhaitham just had no sense of space? no it couldn't be... alhaitham was always cautious of the space between the both of you.

as the seconds ticked by, the weight of your decision bore down upon you like a heavy burden, you spoke up, breaking the tense silence that hung between you and your roommates. "i... guys?" you began, your voice trembling slightly. "what..."

your voice trailed off as your eyes flickered between alhaitham's and kaveh's, your eyes said more than enough. kaveh sighed, glaring at alhaitham once more before removing his hand from the pearl-grey-haired roommate's shoulder.

kaveh’s glare softened as he turned his gaze back to you, his expression shifting to something almost… vulnerable. he hesitated, but his eyes held a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest, despite your earlier doubts.

"look," kaveh said, softer now, "i wanted to tell you how i felt for a long time. i was just… scared, i guess." he let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "i didn't want to mess things up. we’ve all been living together for so long, and i thought, if i just took my time, maybe you’d—"

"maybe you’d what?" alhaitham cut in, his voice calm yet firm, though his gaze softened as he glanced between you and kaveh. "kaveh, you were dragging this out. i was tired of waiting for you to make a move." he then looked at you, his gaze piercing, his voice a low murmur. "but you have a say in this too."

both their eyes were on you now, waiting, and you felt a wave of vulnerability crashing over you. part of you was ready to tell them to forget it, to insist it was impossible that two people like them could actually feel anything for you. but that other part—that part that had wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and alhaitham moments earlier—begged you to take this chance.

heart pounding, you took a shaky breath and decided to lay everything bare. “i thought… you two were just teasing me all this time. like this was some kind of game.”

kaveh’s face softened as he reached out, his fingers grazing yours, sparking something electric between you. “it was never a game, not for me,” he murmured, voice low and rough with barely contained longing. “i’ve wanted you for so long. every time i held back, every time i watched you with him… it drove me crazy.” he shot a glance at alhaitham, his jaw clenched, before looking back at you, his eyes intense, burning with something raw.

alhaitham’s gaze was unwavering, filled with a hunger that sent a rush through you. he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your cheek, tilting your face to meet his gaze. “i don’t share easily,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “but for you… i’d rather share than let you go.”

the weight of their words crashed into you, heat pooling in your chest, spreading through your veins as you struggled to process the intensity of their confessions. your heart hammered as their gazes bore into you, each one daring you to respond, to give in to the passion simmering between you.

“i don’t want you to walk away,” you breathed, barely able to get the words out, your voice trembling with anticipation. the moment you said it, their expressions shifted—like wolves finally catching sight of their prey.

kaveh let out a shaky exhale, stepping in close, so close you could feel his warm breath against your skin. “so… you’re really choosing both of us?” his tone was teasing, but the edge of desperation was clear as he reached for your hand, squeezing it, his gaze dark with want. 

alhaitham’s lips quirked into the barest hint of a smirk as he leaned down, his mouth ghosting over yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “good,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur. “because i’ve been waiting far too long for this.” then his lips met yours, not gentle this time but demanding, claiming you with a passion that left you breathless. his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you close, deepening the kiss as if he wanted to drown in you.

the kiss ended, but your head was spinning, your breath shallow as kaveh took his turn. he didn’t hesitate, capturing your lips in a heated, needy kiss, his hands gripping your waist, pressing you against him as he let out a low groan against your mouth. he kissed you like he’d been starved, pouring every bit of pent-up desire and frustration into that kiss, his fingers digging into your skin like he never wanted to let go.

as they pulled back, their gazes seared into you, hot and possessive, leaving you trembling and flushed. alhaitham’s hand found your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze again. “we’re not holding back anymore,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “you’re ours now. understand?”

you swallowed, nodding, feeling the intensity of their words settle deep inside you. every inch of you was alive, buzzing with the thrill of finally being theirs.

kaveh’s fingers tightened around your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing his body flush against yours, his mouth moving with a fierce, desperate hunger. each kiss from him was deeper, rougher, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go for even a second. his hands slid up your sides, feeling, exploring, setting every nerve on fire.

alhaitham’s hand slipped under your chin, turning your face toward him as kaveh’s lips left a trail along your neck. his gaze held a dark intensity, his eyes blazing as he lowered his mouth to yours once more, this time with a slow, tantalizing hunger that made you melt against him.

his kiss was deep and claiming, his hand tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. he broke away just enough to murmur against your lips, his voice low and possessive. “tonight, you’re not leaving either of us.”

they moved as one, guiding you backwards, step by step until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. you barely had a chance to react before kaveh’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and lowering you onto the sheets. he climbed over you, his breath heavy and uneven, his eyes fixed on you with a need that made you shiver.

alhaitham was right beside him, his gaze roaming over you, drinking in every inch with a dark, dangerous smirk that sent a thrill through you. his hand slipped to your shoulder, pushing you back onto the bed as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your collarbone, sending waves of heat through you.

“we’ve waited long enough,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. his hand drifted over your waist, firm and possessive as if to remind you exactly where you belonged. “and we’re not stopping until we’ve had our fill.”

kaveh’s hands roamed over your sides, his touch both soothing and electrifying, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that left you breathless, completely lost in him. you felt his fingers trace down to your hips, his touch growing bolder, needier, as he let out a low, throaty groan against your mouth. he pulled back, his face inches from yours, his voice husky with desire. “i’m not letting you go, not tonight.”

their hands intertwined as they held you between them, their breaths coming faster, hotter, their gazes locked on you with an intensity that made you feel utterly exposed.

their hands moved in unison, each touch lighting up every nerve as they explored, learning each curve, each reaction that drove you to the edge of your senses. alhaitham’s fingers trailed down your collarbone, pressing firmly as if marking you, his lips following close behind, leaving a scorching path along your skin. he moved with a confidence that left you dizzy, his gaze locked on yours with a look that was both possessive and admiring, making you feel utterly consumed.

kaveh, on the other hand, was all fervent energy, his hands eagerly roaming over you, his touch alternating between gentle caresses and firm grips, as though he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t believe you were actually there with him. his eyes met yours, softening for a moment, before he leaned in close, his voice a low, heated murmur in your ear. “i wanted this for so long... didn’t think i’d ever get the chance.”

their hands intertwined as they hovered over you, each touch driving you deeper into a haze of desire, their combined warmth pressing in on every side. alhaitham’s hand slid around to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down, his lips barely grazing yours before capturing them in a slow, searing kiss that stole your breath.

he pulled back only to press a trail of kisses down your jaw, his hand sliding down to meet kaveh’s as they both moved over you, their touches merging, amplifying, until you were lost in them.

the way they worked together, each knowing instinctively how to push you further, was overwhelming, every movement calculated to keep you teetering on the edge. alhaitham’s smirk flickered at the sight of you, utterly undone, and kaveh’s smile softened, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of wonder. 

“you’re ours,” kaveh whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his lips grazing your ear before pressing a kiss there. “no more waiting, no more doubts. just us.”

the words hit you like a tidal wave, their weight sinking into your chest and filling every hollow corner of your heart. you couldn’t help but feel your legs tremble, though whether from the intensity of their presence or the truth of kaveh’s confession, you weren’t sure.

alhaitham, ever the steady one, noticed immediately, his arm wrapping securely around your waist to keep you grounded. his touch was firm yet tender, anchoring you to the moment while kaveh’s words pulled you further into an ocean of emotions.

kaveh’s hand moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a gesture so gentle it nearly made you break down. “do you know how long we’ve waited?” he asked softly, his honeyed voice trembling just enough to betray his own vulnerability. “how long have we watched you chase after things you didn’t need because you were too scared to see what was right in front of you?”

the words brought forth a flood of memories, moments you’d tried to bury in the recesses of your mind because they felt too intimate, too confusing. you thought back to that time in the akademiya library when you had worked late into the night, determined to finish your research. kaveh had arrived first, arms laden with snacks and tea, a dramatic sigh escaping him as he plopped into the chair beside you.

“you’ll burn yourself out like this,” he had said, offering you a bite of his food as though it was the most natural thing in the world. his hand had brushed yours when you reached for the tea, lingering just a second too long. 

then alhaitham had joined, quiet as always, slipping a warm blanket around your shoulders with an almost imperceptible sigh. “if you’re going to work yourself to death, at least have the decency not to catch a cold,” he’d said, but his hand had stayed on your shoulder a beat longer, giving it a squeeze that spoke volumes.

at the time, you’d chalked it up to kindness, their unique ways of looking out for you. but now, standing here with both of them, you realized how much of their affection had been buried beneath subtleties you’d chosen to ignore. 

—

“i can feel you overthinking,” alhaitham’s voice cut through your haze, sharp yet not unkind. he tilted your chin with two fingers, his piercing teal gaze meeting yours. “stop it. you’re here now, with us. that’s all that matters.”

kaveh let out a soft laugh, though it carried an undercurrent of frustration. “you really do make things harder than they need to be, you know that?” he teased, though the tenderness in his expression betrayed his words. “running off on all those pointless dates... what were you even trying to find, huh?”

heat crept up your neck at the mention of your failed attempts at dating. you looked down, only to have kaveh gently nudge your chin upward with a finger. “look at me,” he said, and his voice was so soft, so unbearably full of emotion, that you couldn’t resist. “you didn’t need any of them. you never did. did you think we wouldn’t notice? that we wouldn’t care?”

the vulnerability in his question broke something inside you. “i didn’t think... i didn’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i was just—someone to bicker with, someone to tease. i didn’t think i meant that much to either of you.”

kaveh’s eyes widened briefly, shock and something deeper flickering across his face. “you didn’t think—” he cut himself off with a disbelieving laugh, though there was no humor in it. “you’re everything to us,” he said, and the rawness in his tone made your chest tighten. “do you have any idea how much you mean to me? to us?”

alhaitham’s hand slid to the back of your neck, grounding you once more. his touch was steady, reassuring. “we’ve waited long enough,” he said, his voice low but firm, his teal gaze unwavering. “you’re ours now. there’s no need to run anymore.”

the truth of his words settled over you like a blanket, warm and inescapable. memories of their quiet devotion played in your mind like a reel. kaveh dragging you out for “fresh air” after a particularly grueling day, his arm slung casually around your shoulders but his concern evident in the way he kept glancing at your face. alhaitham staying up with you during a storm, his usual stoicism giving way to a quiet patience as he read aloud to distract you from the howling winds. they had always been there, waiting, even when you didn’t realize it. 

—

“you don’t have to keep fighting it,” kaveh murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. “let us take care of you for once.”

“don’t give them a choice,” alhaitham added dryly, though the smirk on his lips was softened by the way his fingers caressed the side of your neck. “we’ve already decided.”

you laughed softly, the sound shaky but genuine. “you two really are impossible,” you muttered, but there was no malice in your words—only affection, deep and unrelenting.

“and yet, you’re still here,” kaveh pointed out with a grin, his hand finding yours and squeezing it. “which means you’re stuck with us. so stop running, and let us love you the way you deserve.”

the tears you hadn’t realized were building finally spilled over, but they weren’t tears of sadness. as kaveh’s lips met yours, warm and insistent, and alhaitham pressed his forehead against yours, grounding you in his steady presence, you felt something shift. the weight of doubt and fear melted away, leaving only the overwhelming truth: you were theirs. entirely, irrevocably theirs. 

kaveh’s lips found yours next, his kiss softer but no less intoxicating, filled with an urgency that made your knees weak. his fingers tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into yours while alhaitham’s hands explored your curves, his touch firm and deliberate. “you’ve always been ours,” kaveh whispered against your lips. “you just needed to realize it.”

“and now you will,” alhaitham added, his voice steady but carrying a dangerous edge. his teeth grazed your jawline, sending another shiver through you. “we’ll make sure of it.”

your body melted between them, every nerve alight as they overwhelmed you with their presence. kaveh’s lips moved back to your neck, and his tongue flicked against a sensitive spot that made you gasp. alhaitham smirked at your reaction, his hands finding the curve of your waist and pulling you flush against him. “so sensitive,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

kaveh chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “let us spoil you,” he said, his tone softening but his grip on you unwavering. “let us show you how it feels to be truly adored.”

your hands clutched at their shirts, grounding yourself as the heat between you all grew unbearable. their touches, their words, the way they worked together—it was dizzying, intoxicating, and everything you hadn’t known you needed. with every kiss, every touch, they erased your doubts, replaced them with a certainty you could no longer deny.

kaveh lingers there, lost in the sensation, nuzzling into the soft heat of your belly as if it were his lifeline. suddenly, he lifted his head up, moving closer to your breasts, you watched him impatiently, and just before you could speak, his tongue traced your sensitive buds, and a shiver ran down your spine.

his hot breath tickled your skin as he slowly dragged his lips over each tiny bud. you let out a soft gasp, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair. "fuck, that feels so good," you moaned, arching into his touch.

“wait, it’s my first time…” your hands place themselves over his shoulders, heat rushed to your cheeks at the lewd scene before you.

kaveh gazes into your eyes, his expression softening with tender affection as he cups your face in his larger hands "i promise to be gentle with you, darling. this is a special moment for us, and i want it to be perfect." his thumbs stroke along your cheekbones as he leans in to place a sweet, lingering kiss on your lips. "just breathe deeply and focus on the pleasure... let me take care of everything else."

he quickly dips his head, the soft hums of pleasure escaped his lips as he trails hot kisses along your sensitive nipples, lapping at the hardened nubs with a flick of his tongue. his hand kneads your breast, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he pinches and rolls her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

as he takes one nipple into his mouth, suckling greedily as he flicks his tongue rapidly over the bud. he grazes the sensitive skin with his teeth, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. his other hand braces against the mattress, supporting his weight as he presses closer, his rigid length grinding against your thigh.

releasing your nipple from his mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connected with his lips to the abused bud. he blazes a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your body, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin of your stomach before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. “wait–”

with a tug, he yanks your pants and panties down your legs, baring your glistening folds to his hungry gaze. he takes a moment to admire the sight, his cock throbbing with need. he watches it for a couple of seconds, completely entranced and mesmerised before diving in to feast on your cunt. his tongue delves between your slick lips, lapping up the sweet essence as he holds your hips steady with bruising force.

all the while, alhaitham watches from the side, his palm resting behind your neck as he turns your head towards him, crashing his needy lips onto yours, brows furrowed as he kissed you impatiently.

kaveh moans softly at the sight of your perfect tits, the way your body shivered and trembled with each lick. his mouth waters at the scent of your arousal permeating the air. without hesitation, he buries his face deeper in your pussy. he licks a broad stripe up your slit, swirling around your clit before plunging his tongue deep inside your tight hole.

muffled gurgles emanate from his throat as he worships your cunt, slurping on your juices greedily. his eyes are transfixed on the mesmerizing dance of your engorged clit peeking out from beneath its hood, begging for attention. he obeys, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly with the tip of his tongue, making sure to catch every drop of your ambrosia.

his hands roam higher to fondle your breasts at the sounds of your praise and moans. "ohhh f-fuuuckkk! yes, just like that!" your shameless moans fill the room as he feasts on your sopping cunt. you writhe against the mattress, grinding your dripping core against his eager mouth. "don't stop, mmmnnn!" you cry out wantonly, throwing your head back in ecstasy. your hand's fist in his hair, holding him tight against you.

your thighs quake around his ears as his tongue works you over, stoking the fires burning in your loins higher and higher. "oh god, yessss!! right fucking there! ahn…!" the intense waves crash over you, threatening to drown you whole. he doesn't let up though, fucking your convulsing channel with long, hard laps of his tongue as your cunt clamps down around him, milking him for everything he has.

before you've even begun coming down, he surges forward and crashes his mouth to yours in a passionate, sloppy kiss. his whiskered cheek slides along yours as his musky scent invades your senses – equal parts salty-sweet from his kiss – bringing back up essence and uniquely man. the mingling scents and flavours of both of you mingle into one delicious medley you'd burn for.

still kissing you fiercely, he rolls your sensitive nubs. he pulls back from the kiss and you can clearly see how he smirks up at you with a wicked glint in his eyes, still savouring your shared flavour on his tongue. you gasp as he pulls back, his saliva mixing with your juices as he gazes hungrily down at your flushed face.

he glances down at your dishevelled appearance, noting the pearly essence dripping down your chin and neck. slowly, teasingly, he traces a finger through your sticky mess, collecting your release before bringing it to his lips. you whimper as he swirls his tongue around the digit, cleaning off the intimate proof of your mutual satisfaction.

without warning, he grips your hips and spins you around, pushing you face-first against the dirtied sheets. your legs wobble slightly from the aftershocks still rippling through you, but he holds you steady with one large hand resting between your shoulder blades.

his hard, heavy cock springs free from its confines, thick and veiny, already drooling with pre-cum. the head smears against your soaked entrance as he kicks your feet further apart. he groans, grinding the leaking tip along your slippery entrance. he teases the tip along your wet slit, coating himself in your slick arousal.

slowly, oh so slowly, he sinks into your welcoming heat, groaning low in his chest as your velvety walls stretch and accommodate his impressive girth. "fuck…” he begins with a shallow thrust, letting you feel every ridge and vein dragging against your fluttering walls, drawing a loud and erotic moan from you. 

once he bottoms out, he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. then he starts to move again, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in with a lewd squelch. he sets a deliberate pace, taking you slow and deep, relishing the way your cunt squeezes around his length. each thrust rocks you forward, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against your sensitive clit.

you’re pinned firmly against the bed as he fucks you, his hips pumping at a steady, torturous pace. the wet glide of your slick walls hugging his aching cock sends shivers racing up his spine.

"mmmph, unghh… you’re so tight—" kaveh groans quietly against your shoulder, hot breath puffing against your overheated skin. his hands skim lower to grip your full, rounded ass cheeks possessively, rolling the globes in his palm and kneading the flesh. he drives into you harder then, forcing the breath from your lungs with each powerful snap of his hips.

he slams into you harder and faster, his hips pistoning erratically as he chases his pleasure. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes loudly in the bathroom, interspersed with your shameless moans.

"uunf! nngghh…!" he moans and whimpers are broken, lost in the feral rut. he bites down on your shoulder, leaving a vivid mark on your flawless skin as he continues to pound into you like a man possessed.

sweat beads on his brow and he grips your hips so hard bruises form, grinding you down onto his shaft as he rails you relentlessly. “f–fuck! cum for me…!” he demands breathlessly after hearing your moans grow erratic as he nears his peak.

suddenly, his entire body goes taut as a bowstring. with a guttural groan, he slams into you one last time and explodes, flooding your spasming walls with jet after jet. he pulls out of you abruptly, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. before you can protest, he flips you over onto your back and settles his weight on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head.

he’s breathless, his chest heaving up and down almost in sync with yours, his eyes trailed around your clit, drinking in the sight of your naked body splayed out.

at that moment, alhaitham places his hand over kaveh’s chest, successfully moving the tired man out of his way, kaveh whines but slumps down beside you, lazily groping your breasts.

alhaitham hooks his hands under your thighs and pushes them back towards your chest, folding you nearly in half and exposing your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze before trailing a single finger through your slick folds and circling your swollen clit. at his touch you whined, legs quivering.

“fuck me,” you breathed, adding a small whine to it. he releases your wrists and grips your hips once again, the tip of his girthy cock nudging insistently at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he sheathes himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously around his pulsing length. he lets you adjust for only a moment before setting a ruthless pace, pounding into you with animalistic abandon. the sounds of the obscene slaps of flesh and your increasingly high-pitched moans made it all the more lewd.

the new angle allows him to hit that spot deep inside you with each punishing stroke, sending you into complete bliss. at his command, his powerful hips stutter before finding a new, unhurried rhythm. he continues thrusting slowly yet forcefully, working his massive cock deeper into your clinging heat. “nghhhh..."

the renewed slowness allows him to fully explore the intimate clutch of your pussy as it grips his throbbing length. each languorous slide has his shaft nestling against the fluttering ridges and bumps that line your most sensitive canal. he swivels his hips sinuously, grinding his swollen tip against the hidden spongy spot deep within you with every withdrawal and penetration.

a fresh rush of tingling warmth starts building at the base of his spine as he picks up steam once more, the sensations growing more intense by degrees. your eyes practically roll behind your eyes at the euphoric feeling, your moans bounced along with every thrust of his long cock. “fuccckkk, more.. please..!”

he continues his unhurried, sensual rhythm as the last vestiges of your shared climax fade, your bodies still intimately entwined. his shaft pulses lazily inside you, twitching in time with each roll of his hips. slowly, the intensity ebbs, replaced by languid aftershocks wracking your frames.

you both shared your breaths, sweat, juices and cum all mixed together everywhere, on both your skin and the bed, he leans down your face, pressing feather-light kisses along your sweat-dampened collarbone. “you like that?” he groans into your ear as he grips your hips tightly, his claws digging into your soft flesh as he pounds into you relentlessly.

the wet slapping sounds of skin on skin fill the room, punctuated by his guttural grunts and your high-pitched moans."fuck yes, take it all…" he snarls, his voice dripping with lust and dominance."your tight little cunt was made for my cock, wasn't it? tell me how much you love being used like the cum dump you are" alhaitham’s pace becomes even more frenzied, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his release.

he reaches around to roughly grope your breasts, ignoring the whines and complaints from kaveh, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continues to pound into you. "gonna fill you up...breed this hungry pussy...mark you as mine," he growls, his words becoming more disjointed as pleasure overwhelms him.

with a forceful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Leaning in close, his hot breath fans across your ear as he begins to move, setting a punishing pace. his voice is low and husky as he whispers, "you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, such a tight little pussy, gripping me like you never want to let go. you're mine to use, to fuck, to fill. i'm going to ruin you for anyone else." his hips snap against yours relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room. he continues his filthy litany in your ear, punctuating each thrust with a growled word. "take. it. all."

your cries of pleasure echo through the room, the thrusts were too aggressive, too harsh, too much. but you liked it. kaveh slides in behind you, nestling his thick shaft between your ass cheeks. he grinds against you teasingly while alhaitham continues to relentlessly pound your pussy from the front. kaveh’s hands roam over your body, pinching your nipples and trailing down to circle your clit.

"such a greedy little girl," he growls in your ear. "two cocks and you still want more? let's see how much you can really take."With that, he lines himself up with your puckered rear entrance and slowly pushes inside, stretching you deliciously as he fills you completely. you're now stuffed full of cock from both ends, caught between two muscular bodies using you for their pleasure. the sensations are overwhelming as they begin to move in tandem, fucking you relentlessly.

alhaitham’s relentless pounding from the front shows no signs of letting up, his powerful thrusts driving you wild with pleasure. meanwhile, kaveh behind you moves at a much more languid pace, savoring every inch of your stretched hole as he lazily pushes in and out. "Mmm, so tight...like a warm velvet glove around my cock," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear as he nibbles on your lobe.

your moans grow louder and more wanton as these contrasting sensations overwhelm your senses. you can feel alhaitham shaft throbbing inside you, hitting all the right spots with each forceful stroke. behind him, kaveh’s slow drag provokes electric tingles that make you clench reflexively around both cocks. "ohhh fuck yes! just like that!" you cry out desperately. The dual penetration is too much to bear for long.

“‘s—s too much!” tears welled up in your eyes at both the pleasure and pain of both their cocks in you, you were getting overstimulated, it hurt so good. “s—slow down! ah…!” alhaitham’s thrusts slow slightly at your desperate plea, but he still manages to hit all the right spots inside you. he leans down to capture a tear rolling down your cheek with his tongue, savoring the salty taste. "shh, it's okay baby...i know i'm being rough. but you're so fucking perfect like this," he murmurs against your skin as he continues to move within you at a slightly more measured pace.

kaveh behind slows his movements as well, allowing you a moment of respite before picking up again in time with alhaitham’s renewed rhythm. the sensations are almost too much to bear now—the deep stretch and drag from behind contrasting beautifully with the relentless pounding in front. "nnngh...so good..." you whimper, overwhelmed by pleasure and emotion.

as your climax hits, your inner walls clench and ripple around both alhaitham and kaveh still-throbbing shaft. the sensation pushes them over the edge as well. " fuck yes! cumming so deep inside you...!" with a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and unloads, his hot seed flooding your spasming pussy in long spurts. kaveh soon  follows suit moments later, grinding against your ass as he fills you with his own release. his warm cum coats your insides along with alhaitham’s, creating an intimate mix of their essences within you.

alhaitham carefully eases out of your still quivering heat, watching transfixed as his release slowly leaks out to trickle between your thighs. he scoops up some of the creamy fluid and brings it to his lips, humming appreciatively at the taste.

“ah.. alhaitham give me—give me a moment—” you breathed, trying to catch your breath after the intense session. “but i need to clean up your mess, look how dirty you are” he chuckled. He can clearly see how your eyes widen at your words, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. he takes in your thoroughly debauched appearance with hungry, satisfied eyes before nodding.

slowly, he lowers himself off you onto his hands and knees behind you as he reaches beneath you to run two large fingers through the mess of slickness leaking from your freshly-fucked hole. lapping his fingers clean with kittenish swipes of his tongue, he gives your sensitive bud one final teasing flick that has you bucking back into the bed. crawling onto the mattress with cat-like grace, he positions the swollen head of his shaft at your fluttering opening.

alhaitham grins mischievously as he teases your slick entrance with the tip of his cock, spreading your juices around in a tantalizing display. his eyes gleam with dark hunger as he watches you squirm beneath him. "mmm, look at that...my cum leaking out of your greedy hole already. you can't get enough, can you?" he chuckles lowly and slowly pushes forward, sinking into you once more.

“i—i don’t think i can take another round…” you breathed, face flushed with sweat slicken strands of hair stuck on your forehead.

“this is just the beginning," he purrs, resuming his sensual rhythm as he claims you again. alhaitham’s hips undulate against yours in a slow dance of pleasure, each deliberate thrust sending ripples through your connected bodies. "i’m going to fuck this pussy all night long until it's raw and sore from my cock."

kaveh stretches out beside you on the bed, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he watches alhaitham work your pussy over once more. he reaches out to lazily stroke your sweat-dampened skin, tracing patterns along your curves. "you two enjoy each other so much," he muses, his voice low and content. "i think i'll just lie here and watch...for now." He settles in comfortably, propping himself up on one elbow to continue admiring the erotic display before him.

alhaitham seems perfectly happy with this arrangement, continuing his slow but thorough fucking of your willing body. His thrusts grow slightly more urgent as he feels kaveh’s gaze upon them, driving him to make the most of their moment together.

his eyes flash with a predatory gleam as he hears your soft whimpers, his cock twitching within you in anticipation. "mmm, i’ve craved this moment for so long," he growls, his voice low and husky with desire.

"you don’t know how long i’ve been wanting to be in this pussy...every inch of that luscious body. and i'm going to take my time savoring each delicious moment." he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he continues to move inside you at a slow, deliberate pace.

“i'll fuck you until dawn breaks," he promises against your lips, "and even then maybe not be done exploring every sweet spot on this perfect pussy." his hands roam over your curves possessively as he speaks, mapping the terrain of your skin like an explorer claiming new lands.

“all night long…”

—

a few weeks later, the sun shone through the curtains of your cozy shared apartment, its golden rays highlighting the organized chaos within. a half-finished bookshelf project leaned against the wall (kaveh’s idea, naturally), while alhaitham’s books were scattered across the coffee table in a way that made your neat-freak self twitch. it was a scene of domestic tranquility, punctuated by the occasional bickering that had somehow become oddly endearing.

kaveh was in the kitchen, attempting to cook breakfast—a noble endeavor that would inevitably end with alhaitham stepping in to prevent the fire alarm from going off. you sat cross-legged on the couch, watching the spectacle unfold with a mug of tea in your hands.

“this doesn’t need your interference, alhaitham!” kaveh snapped, waving a spatula threateningly as alhaitham leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his expression as unimpressed as ever.

“i’m merely ensuring we don’t end up eating charcoal,” alhaitham replied coolly, reaching over to adjust the stove’s temperature.

“can you two not start world war three before i’ve had breakfast?” you asked, trying to suppress your laughter.

they both turned to you at the same time, as if suddenly realizing you were watching them with that fond look you couldn’t quite hide.

“we’re not fighting,” kaveh said quickly, though his defensive tone was softened by his sheepish grin.

“it’s just a discussion,” alhaitham added, though the faintest twitch of a smile betrayed him.

you set your mug down and walked over, slipping yourself between them. “whether it’s fighting or discussing, i’m calling a truce. we’re all having breakfast together, and no one’s allowed to sabotage it.”

kaveh gave you a mock salute, while alhaitham raised an eyebrow but gave a slight nod of agreement.

later, the three of you sat around the dining table, sharing a surprisingly decent meal that kaveh had insisted on plating himself.

“this is nice,” you said, glancing between them with a contented smile.

alhaitham looked at you from over his book, which he’d brought to the table despite kaveh’s protests. “i suppose it is.”

“you suppose?” kaveh scoffed, though there was no real heat in his voice.

you laughed, leaning back in your chair as a warm sense of belonging settled over you. it wasn’t perfect—there were still arguments, quirks, and a lot to figure out—but it was yours.

and as kaveh started another impassioned rant about alhaitham’s lack of appreciation for the “art” of cooking, you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

note: wowie this is the first time i've written quite a long smutty fanfic ever, what an experience.

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me (i don't want to be embarrassed)