#I had to up the resolution a bit for mine

[lonelysheepling]

Tall and skinny

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 384

Idk how well this will work but here’s goes nothing lol

“Draw your Hornet!” aka draw your version/style of hornet somewhere on the bench! I was thinking maybe this can be done through reblogs?

Not a competition/contest or anything like that, it’s just for fun! This will be open indefinitely so do this whenever! :)

[moondirti]

blue collar simon x gn! reader. implied cnc.

Simon finds a journal on his lunch break.

It's inconspicuous. A5 black moleskin with an elastic holding it's contents together, bits of paper sticking out like nails on a poorly constructed house frame. He only notices it because his cooler slips off the bench when he blindly places it atop the fat book, sandwiches and packets of crisps now strewn across the dirty pedway.

The day's already been shit. A motley of blows, each made worse by the torrid sun overhead, sweat to cling to his grievances. An uptight site manager. A near loss of life after some tenderfoot got caught in between an excavation truck and the wall. Even his too-long hair, which curls around red ears – having not had a chance to buzz it off since being called in for this job. It's no wonder, then, that the tiny mishap stirs as severe of a reaction as it does; he chucks his hard hat across the road, satisfied only when it finds its fate mid-lane, an obstruction to inevitably fuck the tires on a white collar's new car.

When his rage settles as smouldering ash in his chest, he picks his food off the floor and cracks open the source of his animosity.

With no name or number, the first page holds just a chicken-scratch address. Interesting. Its owner hasn't made this easy on him, crafting it like one would a game. A skewing of traditional acquaintance. Granting nothing of their superficial identity, yet unrestricted access to their innermost thoughts. Thus he's forced to paint his own picture of the figure behind the words.

And what a picture indeed.

The first entry is brief.

13.02 – My therapist expects at least three pages a week. I'm not doing any of that, so don't get your hopes up.

It's evident that you don't stick to your guns. Though the next one is dated several months later, so he see's the attempt had been made. Written in a whole new hand, like you'd picked a dry pen off the floor and practiced your non-dominant grip:

08.05 – I broke my arm playing tennis. The umpire called a match-point in my opponent's favour and I threw the racket at his head.

I am no longer allowed to play tennis. What good is that resolution? My radius has a greenstick fracture. I'm already out of the game.

His laugh is abrasive and sudden, like it'd been pried from his chest by a pair of careless hands. Or as close to that analogy as it can get – your anger is intoxicating and only grows more potent across the pages. Inadvertently amusing. Simon chews through the tough crust of his torpedo roll as he reads, time wearing away under the stiff comb of your words.

There's hardly any variation in your cataloguing –

10.06 – The universe must need more bad people in it, because it tests my limits everyday. Can the fuck next door snore any louder? It's 2 am, goddammit. I wonder if it'd be overkill to ship nasal strips to his mailbox.

26.06 – Dad called today. Didn't pick up.

04.07 – I'm close to killing Kathleen. There's a reason the food in the fridge is labelled as MINE. GET YOUR GRUBBY PAWS OFF OF IT!

13.07 – The world is a shitty, stupid, crappy, icky, lousy, rotten, stinking, stinky, bad place. I hate my coworkers and friends and parents and landlord and etc etc. It's like everyone is out to get me.

– so it's like the honed curl of a hook. Whiplash-inducing, reeling his attention so quick that his neck strains in phantom pain. Simon stops everything, elbows settling onto his knees as he fixates on one entry in particular.

30.07 – I stand by what I said. The world is uniquely horrible. I think that's because I make it that way for myself. Whatever this exercise was meant to do for me, rage relief or introspection or whatever, it's clearly not working. I'm just as angry as I was before. Maybe burning these pages would help. I wish I could play tennis again. I don't know what to do with my hands anymore. I got fired last week. Need groceries. Eggs, spinach. Spinach always goes bad and I never make use of it. I keep buying it though. Dad keeps calling. I've got a migraine and I've run out of advil.

I just need someone to put me in my place.

And it ends there. No more entries after the fact, just a handful of blank pages before the journal wraps to a close.

He flips back over to the address at front. Looking at it a second time, he can tell the ink is still fresh.

Perhaps he misinterprets it. Perhaps it hits a little too close to home. It wouldn’t be the first time he looks for salvation in the empty lines someone leaves behind. Perhaps it’s just been a bad day, and he should go home before he does something he’ll regret. Perhaps it’s nothing at all.

Or–

Perhaps he sees it for what it is.

Here are all my colours. What you choose to do, or think, is no longer my concern.

[freedomfireflies]

any chance we can get asher back for mine!harry blurb? i miss my pookie :(

Summary: The one where you're not feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help.

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warning: 18+, very brief smut, very brief daddy kink, lots of fluff, not suitable for Ramadan!

“That’s it…good. Take it…fucking take me, mama.”

With every thrust and drive of Harry's hips, you can’t help but whimper. Nails scratching down his broad back while his nose dances along your cheek. You feel whole. Connected. In tune to his pleasure as you tighten your legs around his hips and kiss him.

“So fucking wet, sugar,” he exhales. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in fast, determined circles. “S’it feel good? My baby’s cunny just needed some attention, hm? Needed me to fill her up?”

You nod—about the only coherent response you can offer—and melt into the feel of his mouth moving to your chest. It feels good. This is what you needed. You’ve missed him. And you needed someone to scratch this itch and make things right again.

And then, a throat clears.

Not yours. Not Harry’s.

Asher’s.

He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching. His kind eyes are now suspicious and deviant. And he’s not looking at Harry. He’s looking at you.

And you know why.

Harry doesn’t mind the audience. He continues, strong hands cemented to your hips as he tugs you up in order to get a better angle. “You all right, Ash?” he calls.

Asher raises his chin. “Tell him,” he says to you. Resolute. Unwavering in a way that suggests he won't be letting this go.

You hesitate, stomach dropping as the threat of punishment hangs heavy in the air. 

Harry smirks. “Tell me what?” 

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you whisper before shooting a pointed look toward the door. “Nothing.”

“Sweetheart,” Asher warns, crossing his arms before leaning against the frame. “It’ll be worse if I have to tell him.”

Now Harry seems to understand and begins to slow his thrusts, offering you a curious expression meant to calm you. “What’s wrong, mama?”

You chew on your lip. You don’t want to tell him. You want this and you attempt to clench around his cock in order to get him to continue.

He smiles.

“She had a fever this morning,” Asher finally says and you bite back a groan. “She’s been dizzy all day and nearly fainted earlier. I told her to stay in bed and rest. Not do anything too strenuous. But I have a feeling she didn’t mention that to you.”

Harry’s grin instantly fades into disappointment and you know, undoubtedly, that you’re in rather big trouble now. 

The one thing they prioritize more than anything is your health and safety.

“Sugar,” Harry starts, and you feel your heart skip, “are you not feeling well?”

You squirm beneath him. “I’m…I’m fine. I’m okay to do this—”

“Were you sick this morning?”

“…I was just…I mean, maybe a little, but—”

“Did you know you were going against Asher’s request when you begged me to fuck you?” he says firmly, and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You hate upsetting him. “Were you purposefully disobeying him?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I…I wasn’t trying to, I just…I missed you.”

And it’s the truth. You have missed him. You weren’t trying to be defiant, but you love Harry and you wanted to feel him. And you figured an orgasm could be just what the doctor ordered. 

His features soften now as he dips down to kiss your nose. “I know, mama. I’ve missed you, too. But you know better than to disobey, don’t you?”

Regretfully, you nod.

“Then, I’m gonna ask you a question and I expect the truth. Is that understood?”

Another nod.

“Are you unwell right now? Do you feel tired or feverish or even the slightest bit uncomfortable?”

You could lie. You could tell him that you’ve been fucked back to health. That you rested and now you’re replenished.

But he’d know. And you’d know. And Asher would know.

So, you thread your fingers through his curls and whisper, “I’m…a little tired. And sore."

His expression falls. He’s gutted to know you're in pain but proud of you for finally admitting it. “Good girl,” he says before he kisses your cheek and begins to pull out. “All right then. Are you gonna let us take care of you now? The right way?”

Almost begrudgingly, you nod once again and melt into the mattress as he and Asher discuss the best way to help.

They run you a bath and help carry you to the tub. Harry joins you in the warm water and pulls you between his legs so he can sweep a washcloth up and down your clammy skin. Helping you feel clean and calm.

And when you're through, Asher is there with a big, fluffy towel to wrap you up in. Drying you off gently before bringing you back to bed and kissing your temple sweetly while tucking you beneath the covers.

“Thank you,” you say faintly as he runs his thumb over your cheek. “Even though you’re a snitch.”

He laughs. “Mhm. And I’d do it again.”

With that, he leaves you and Harry alone for the evening, something Harry is more than all right with.

He crawls into bed beside you, quickly pulling you to his chest before taking your temperature and offering you medicine and water. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish,” you whisper as he’s turning out the light.

However, even in the dark, you can anticipate his frown. “Sugar…finishing is not the goal for me. You know that. I like to finish with you, but I don’t fuck you for that. I fuck you because I love you. I want to be close to you. I want to feel you and make you finish.”

You run your fingers down his chest and sigh. “I know, I just…I like when you do. I like that I can do that for you.”

You feel his lips brush across your forehead before he’s wrapping you between his arms. “I know, mama. I’ll make you a deal. Once you’re well again, I’ll fuck you as many times as you want. Make you cum over and over and over again. Until you’re all sensitive and overstimulated.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And you’ll take it, won’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckles before there’s a long, silent lull. “I love you. You know that?”

Your heart just about explodes out of your chest. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Another kiss. Soft. Gentle. “Horny little thing. Even got Asher to tell on you.”

“I know,” you laugh. “I was kind of surprised. But to be fair, I didn’t really disobey him. I was on bed rest. We were doing missionary, and you were doing all the work. All I had to do was lay there.”

Harry laughs and the sound is beautiful. “And you’re sneaky, too, hm?”

“Hey, an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.”

“All right, that’s enough out of you. Go to sleep, yeah?” He pinches your hip. “We’ll discuss this when you’re better. But something tells me Asher won’t be so willing to let you off the hook.”

You smile.

“Good.”

Okay fine I missed Asher, too 😭 HE IS CUTE WHEN HE WANTS TO BE!!

~ Mine Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams  @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart 

[hangesdarling]

Hear me out…midari and kirari fucking the reader and winner keeps her as a house pet

-anon gay.

she's all mine — m. ikishima & k. momobami

PAIRING. Midari Ikishima x female reader x Kirari Momobami SYNOPSIS. Midari and Kirari are trying to win you as their housepet. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, fingering, oral sex, power play, Midari cursing a lot, mentions of gunplay (with Midari), pet play (with Kirari), Kirari being quite manipulative (lmk what else) WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. omfg anon my two biggest kakegurui crushes battling like this ohmyyyy

It had been hours since they made you kneel in that game room. The cold air fanning over the room had your exposed skin freezing.

Your fingers clenched on your numbing knees as you looked over the game table where Midari and Kirari were. Sure, it started as a simple student council gamble. Trying to earn you as a price for the thrill of it. Kirari even put a nice, heavy collar on your neck to prove her point.

Full house, straight flush, and royal flush landed on the table, each side relentless to beat the other. Midari might have taken reckless gambles but won't let Kirari get too ahead of her, even if the game draws out forever.

"So damn boring," Midari huffed, placing her revolver down, knocking a few chips in the process. "You always bet too low, President."

Kirari shot her a firm look, lips forming a sinister smile. "Well, I'm not the one running out of chips now, am I?"

Midari snorted, shrugging that indirect insult. She might be bothered with her stack of chips running short because of her impulsive bets but worrying was never fun so why bother?

Midari looked in your direction, seeing your head bowed down and knees quivering.

"Hey sweetie, come here," Midari ushered you over with a finger to which you slowly obeyed, almost keeling over from your sore knees as you walked towards her.

With an almost triumphant look in her eyes, she circled an arm on your waist and pulled you to her lap. The small sound of surprise coming from you just made the situation even more amusing to her.

Midari tilted her head to Kirari, a smug smile on her face as she said, "Why the sour face now, Prez? Wish you thought about this earlier, huh?"

Midari playfully patted your thigh, squeezing it a bit just to show Kirari how much she have a grip on you.

"Fondling with the prize because you cannot have her by the time this is over looks more pathetic when you do it, Midari," Kirari smiled, putting down a straight royal flush.

"Huh, you think so," Midari chuckled, putting down the same value of cards. Even before the dealer came to settle the situation due to equal value, Midari signaled her to stop and back away.

"I don't want to bet with these damn chips anymore." Midari shoved the rest of her chips out of the way, others toppling and rolling over the floor. She slid down her revolver in the poker table to Kirari's direction, the barrel stopping right at the president's hand.

"Do it," Midari urged, a firm arm remained on your waist as she set her head down on her other hand, waiting for Kirari to make the shot.

You heard the sound of the cylinder turning, a fast resolute aim from Kirari before a gunshot echoed in the room. You trembled in Midari's lap, your hands shaking when you covered your face in shock. Midari patted your head, pulling you close to her body when she saw you trembling.

She wiped the blood from the small cut on her ear, the open wound bleeding out into the collar of her shirt.

"Terrible fucking aim, Prez," she only laughed, holding a handkerchief to her ear to staunch the blood. "I bet you can do worse."

Kirari put the revolver down and said, "I just don't want this game to end sooner than I'd like."

"If you say so," Midari just shrugged, standing up with you in their arms. "Maybe you can aim better at some time soon, eh?"

After you exit the game room, Midari notices the way your hand shakes against hers. She pulled you aside and raised your face to look at her.

"Hey, sugar, sorry to scare you like that," she mumbled, her single eye had a trace of concern. The blood began to dry on the side of her face. It was almost fascinating how the red had smudged on her neck. It suits her in a way.

"I'm okay. Don't worry. Does your ear still hurt?" you asked.

She just chuckled and shook her head, "Nah, I've had worse than this." Midari quickly offered you a hand which you took.

"Let's get out of here, alright?" she winked before pulling you out of that hallway.

----

"Why the hell do you always wear this collar? It's fucking annoying. And you get rashes from it," Midari hissed, before swiftly unlocking your collar and tossing it on the other side of her room, making the thing thump and rattle against the floor. One hand gently pushed you back to bed as her lips ran along your neck, kissing the reddening rashes trailing to where the collar had been earlier.

"The President made me wear it," you mumbled, a hand tangled in her short hair as her kisses turned into bruising ones, even nipping at your skin.

"To hell with what she wants. I don't want you wearing it around me. Got it?" she ordered, popping your uniform open to have your breasts in her mouth. "Let me treat you like a princess when I have you here."

Midari might be a rough woman of crude words and actions but for the weeks she has you by her side, you were never once treated cruelly like a housepet. Every once in a while, she would order you to sit on her lap during games, calling you her lucky charm as she rubbed your thighs.

After one game of Russian Roulette in the beautification council, you had her hot and bothered by how you put the gun on her neck or kissed the muzzle whenever it was your turn to shoot her.

"You do know what you're doing to me, ain't ya?" a husky voice resounded from her throat as she had you in her lap, spreading your thighs on either side of her.

Midari ripped your skirt off much to your protest, before thumbing on your damp underwear. Your hand clenched around her shoulder, your lips strained from holding back your moan.

"You like it when I flirt with you, sweetheart?" Midari took a careful look at your face, only continuing their hand work when you're nodding. A finger brushed the damp material aside, fingers of expertise teasing your folds before plunging two digits inside.

"Such a good girl for me," she breathed out the moment you were dripping onto her fingers, becoming a whimpering mess more and more. "You can't blame me for not trying to win you over, right?"

Each time with Midari felt like a warm embrace from the earth, her fingers always finding their way to give you utmost pleasure, and her tongue learning to find its way to your folds.

She reminded you of a warm reality, a touch of home, even the cold metal of her gun felt sweet against your mouth.

You missed her touch or the way she pats your head as if you're a cat. But you can't even let that thought linger now that you're in front of Kirari, sitting in her office as her sharp eyes bore through your soul.

The slice of cake she offered you felt so sweet in your mouth, the syrup dripping like honey in your throat as she asked, "Are you enjoying it so far?"

You just nodded politely, wary of how you chew. Her elegant, cut-glass voice had your attention as she smiled, her fork running gently along her own plate with a quite untouched slice of cake.

"Do you like your new collar?" she asked next, eyeing the quaint, beaded collar around your neck. Kirari purchased it specifically for you, it looks more like a necklace than a collar with how heavily beaded it was. It was quite heavy but not enough to put you in too much discomfort.

You just nodded and smiled appreciatively at her, wondering how this thing of trying to win you over would end for both her and Midari. What would come after this? Freedom, a life plan, or an even more inescapable prison? Your fork toyed with the rest of the cream, your throat aching for water to wash all the sweetness down.

"Mind if I take you somewhere?" Kirari offered, urging you to follow her outside.

A week with her felt rather... amusing. She loves it when you tail her around while wearing that nice collar with gems matching her eyes. When you kneel or sit by during her games, or how fascinated you were at the Tower of Doors whenever she tours you around. When you hear her laugh or smile, you forget that she's remorseless enough to treat the whole academy as her aquarium to stir and play around with.

She felt like the divine promises of heaven, the only one rightful to place your future in her hands. Just one soft word from her mouth brings about your submission. She fixes and dresses you up like the perfect ornament in her office, a doll to be displayed.

Despite hours of kneeling where you couldn't even feel your knees right after, Kirari manages to soothe you and make you love her all over again. A kiss on your hair or a gentle caress of your thighs had you right under her thumb once more.

"You're such a good pet for me," Kirari would tell you, patting your hair after having your mouth on her cunt for how long she wishes. She tastes as sweet as the cake she feeds you, her cum dripping down your chin like honey and milk from a generous well. For that, you didn't mind your sore, scraped knees or your overworked tongue.

Her fragrance, her silky white hair, her blue eyes ever-present and watching you— all felt so overwhelming as if you were taken by a divine deity to see the world beneath her feet.

Behind closed doors, she enjoys pleasing you. Her perfectly manicured nails brushed your folds, and spread you open experimentally like learning the keys of a new instrument. Kirari always looked at you in amusement, making you wear beautiful skirts just to make you squirt on them when she was playing with you. Her pet, her doll; she would call you.

You learned to do your hair the way she always does for you, even learning how she puts her makeup on which you emulated later on. In that short period, Kirari was making you hers so Midari remembers her competition every time she looks at you.

One afternoon, you emerged from her office, fixing the new collar Kirari gave you,  mindlessly thumbing over the polished gems embedded in your neck. That was when Midari spotted you alone once more, momentarily free of Kirari's eye. She pulled you aside, snapping you out of your dazed thoughts as she pinned you against the wall.

The constricted pupil of her eye had met yours once more, softening and dilating into a much more humane appearance. Seeing you in that light blue dress and collar brimmed her mind of all Kirari's schemes she managed to pull with you.

"Midari..." The sound of her name in your mouth nudged the gentleness in her heart. She longed to have you in her arms after a week of not having you. Midari never wanted to share you with anyone in the future even if it killed her.

Midari brushed the hair out of your face, saying, "I missed you, my sweet girl."

Her hand found the nape of your neck, maybe finding a way to get rid of that collar from you, but found it impossible to do so. Midari only cupped your face in her hands, pulling you into a sweet, sloppy kiss you always loved. Every move of her mouth spoke of how she missed you, her grape lipstick left a faint and sweet taste on your mouth as she pulled away slightly to catch her breath.

"Hey," she breathed, looking at your eyes. "Today will be my final gamble with Kirari. Watch me closely, okay?"

You nodded, letting her pat your head once more as you sank into her warm embrace. She reminded you once again of the warm earth after a sunny morning, the stalks of grass brushing your legs in a grass field. Midari's presence grounded you into reality once again,  battling with Kirari's celestial promises for a place in your mind.

You were torn and placed in a situation where choosing wouldn't be the best option.

A cough resounded from your back, making you and Midari turn in that direction just to see the president eyeing your intimate moment cross-armed.

"I suggest for us not to touch the pet until the gamble is over. For the sake of fairness. How does that sound?" Kirari said, her cold voice cutting the warmth off that room.

Midari slowly withdrew from you, squeezing you gently before saying, "Sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but fine. I'll have her as long as I like after, anyway."

Your eyes darted from Midari to Kirari, wondering how your fate would be sealed by the end of this day.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[siribaes]

ANGEL OF MINE (Sequel to Who’s Better Than Me?)

Rio x blackfem!reader (OC - Angel)

“After a plateau in their relationship, Rio sets out to make things right—”

PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School School Sweethearts

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: We Need Resolution by Aaliyah, Best Thing by Usher, Take Away by Missy Elliott & Ginuwine, Think Of You by Amerie, Fallen by Mya, Ella Me Levanto by Daddy Yankee

CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, ANGST, Some fluff, professing of love, cursing, pinv, r*ugh s*x, cre*m p*e, or*l (fem receiving), Semi Redeemed Rio, Rio being a bedroom bully, with a dash of pettiness again lol, slight use of Spanish, a potential pregnancy, etc. (NOT PROOFREAD/UNEDITED)

AUTHORS NOTE: Genuinely I did not think about writing another part, but some ideas popped up in my head and so here we are lol! this part is kinda long but hope y’all enjoy regardless 💖 GIF CREDIT: by me :)

“How I'm supposed to be to you if you keep squirmin'? Be still,"

Angel couldn’t fully register Rio’s instructions over the pounding of her heart. She shivered, squirming in her spot on the bed. Rio lowered his head, placing small kisses on Angel’s stomach. The softness and warmth of his lips spurred her on even more, Angel began to pull away from Rio's touch.

“Don’t move,” Rio ordered, his large hands held her in place, one of them pressed down on Angel's stomach, "You gonna be good and listen, hm?"

“Yes! I’ll be g-good,” Angel whimpered.

Rio smiled down at her, keeping one hand on her stomach, while the other reached for his hardened shaft. He aligned himself with her dripping core, plunging the tip into her wetness, eliciting a soft moan from Angel. He repeated the movement a few times over slowly easing more of him into her. Angel’s whines grew more desperate with each shallow stroke.

With one last stroke, Rio bottomed out, fully, planting his hands firmly at Angel’s waist.

“Fuck, Angel. So fuckin’ tight,”

Angel’s hands snake up Rio’s back, pulling him towards her, as he began rocking into her.

“Angel,”

“Yes, baby?”

“Angel,”

“Hm?”

“Angel!”

With two snaps from her friend, Benny, Angel was pulled out of her reverie and back into reality.

“You good?” Benny asked as he waved his fork in the air.

“She’s fine,” Keke chuckled, “She’s just having a flashback, of Riooo,”

Angel rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her drink. She leaned back into her seat, looking at the passerbyers. It was a beautiful day, the sun shined brightly, casting down warm rays. After being stuck in the office in the all morning, the change in scenery was much needed.

“Have you talked to him?” Benny mused. He twirled pasta around his fork, before eating a large forkful.

“…No,” Angel sighed.

“Seriously?” Keke asked, eyes wide with shock. “I thought y’all hit it off, literally, after the reunion,”

“We did! And the sex was amazing, but—”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, y'all. So much time has passed, and he's changed so much since we were in high school, I feel like he's not the same boy I once knew,”

"I mean duh, Angel," Keke shrugged, "are any of us who we were 20 years ago?"

"She's right, Angel," Benny added, "None of us are the same as we were back then. It's impossible, babe. It sounds like you more scared of what he does not who is,"

Angel leaned back into her chair; arms folded across her chest. Maybe Benny was right. There was never a moment that passed in the day that she didn't want to be wrapped in Rio's arms. To just be with him. Yet, every time Angel wanted to reach out something stopped her. Everything was different about Rio and seeing him at the reunion was a bit jarring. From his clothes to the way he walked, even that damn eagle tattoo itched on his neck. The way he practically had all of their former classmates fawning over him, laughing at all of his jokes. There was a dangerous charm that Rio possessed. Sure, Angel was used to Rio's boy-ish charms after being on the receiving end of it, but this was something entirely different. It was potent, calculated, and completely irresistible. That was developed from experience, an experience that made Angel think twice.

"By all means, I'm not excusing Rio's, nefarious activities," Benny continued, "I just think you should at least talk to the man. The man, you've been in love with most of your life,"

"And from that glow you've been sporting," Keke added, she paused to a sip from her drink, slurping for dramatic affect. Benny and Angel chuckled, "I know that dick was good. So, take a chance! You'll never know what could happen between you too,"

Angel nodded. For the rest of the day, she pondered Benny and Keke's advice. She had to take a chance, she had to try.

----

It wasn't until 10 PM, when Angel pulled to her home. Arms chalked full of groceries, she wanted to stock up on food and other snacks for her much needed staycation. Angel trudged up the stairs, to her humble bungalow, she fumbled with the straps of the shopping bags and her work purse, trying grab her keys. She quickly opened the door, once inside she locked the door behind her and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Angel didn't bother to turn the light on in the kitchen. Her mind was preoccupied with putting the groceries away so she could take a shower and finally relax. So much that she didn't notice a smoldering, Rio leaned against the refrigerator. He watched her as she unloaded the groceries, not wanting to disturb her just yet. He wanted to admire the way her slacks hugged her curves, just a tad bit longer.

With a grocery bag in hand, Angel turned around, immediately meeting Rio's eyes. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

“Fuck!”

Angel quickly crouched down, grabbing the spilled groceries on the floor. Rio crossed the room in quick strides, bending down to help. A quietness fell over them as they loaded the items into the reusable bag.

“…What are you doing here? How did you get here? You know what don't answer that," Angel sputtered. She sat the bag on her breakfast table. She folded her arms over her chest, “No call, no text. I mean, what the hell Rio?”

His expression was indecipherable as Rio peered at her. His eyes continued to trace over her, as if he was trying to commit her features to memory, as if he really needed to for that matter. Rio tipped his head to the side and scratched the light stubble on his chin.

Angel mentally kicked herself, only Rio could look that dangerously good in minimal lighting. She averted her eyes, looking at the calendar tacked on her fridge, before looking back at Rio.

He shrugged. “I could say the same. You didn’t call, you didn’t text. You avoidin’ me?”

Angel scoffed. “First off, I’m not avoiding you. Second, who breaks into someone’s home after not seeing for a couple of weeks—”

“—A month,”

“However, long it was. If you wanted to talk, this isn’t the way to go about it,”

Rio nodded slowly, poking his bottom lip in that ever so subtle way, as he mused over Angel’s words.

“If I called, would you have answered?”

Angel opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it. Truth was, if Rio did call, she wouldn’t have picked up. Not because Angel didn’t want to, it was complicated. The night that they shared was magical, more amazing than anything Angel could ever dream of, but when the sun rose the next morning and reality set in. They were too different, Angel lived a normal life, she loved her job, her friends, her family, even the “Tinkerbell” car she drove. Her life was routine, with a few moments of spontaneity (hooking up with Rio was one of them). Rio’s life she assumed, was nothing but spontaneity, having to always keep one eye open, always looking over one’s shoulder. Adding Rio into the equation was too much. It was easier when they were younger, it was simpler time. Their love came with no extra baggage, it was pure.

Now, things are much different, Rio was different. He’s a crime boss for pete’s sake, and Angel knew that he didn’t want the same things, as she did. Last time she checked, living the life of a criminal didn’t allow for marriage and kids, not in the way Angel wanted anyway.

“Rio,” Angel began, the dropped her arms, and twiddled with her fingers, “you…we, we are just different,”

A deep sigh escaped Rio. When Angel finally met Rio’s gaze she could see the cracks in his resolve. His jaw was tight, and usual brown eyes carried a hardness in them. Rio ran a hand across her features, rolling his shoulders while doing so.

“You breakin’ my heart, Angelita,” Rio took a few steps forward, now standing only a few away from Angel. He easily towered over her small frame, “what’s so different about me?”

“Y-you’ve changed, I’ve changed,”

“So?”

“So?! This is serious, Rio, are lives are completely different, you don’t want the same things as me,”

“Bullshit. I need real, Angel. Why are you pullin’ away from me?”

“You’re a fucking criminal, Rio!”

A huge wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over her, she quickly buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at Rio after saying what she said. How could she react like that? Regardless of her aversion to what Rio does, he deserved more respect than the outburst she just had. This was the man she’s been in love with since she fifteen, he deserved better.

Angel felt Rio gently wrap his hands around hers, and pulled them away from her face. He then tilted Angel’s upwards to meet his gaze. Rio searched her eyes, seeing the guilt in them he softened.

“You scared of me, Angel?”

Angel froze. Her mind traveling back to the night they spent together, and the glimpse gun she saw as she left his place. Her mind drummed up all of the scenarios that could happen, flashes of him in an orange jumpsuit behind bars, and his name across the headstone in the graveyard. A future that she never wanted to see, but in a way already happened. A little into Angel's first semester of college, word got out Rio was going to prison, it broke her. She couldn't bear to see him like that or worse, 6 feet under.

So, to answer his question was she scared of Rio, no. Was she scared of what could happen to Rio, absolutely, Angel loved him too much just to be okay with could happen to him. Or what he could do to others.

"Hey, hey," Rio spoke, pulling her focus back to him, "there you go wonderin' again. Tell me, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

Angel sighed. “...I don’t like what you do,”

Rio dropped his hand away from Angel's chin. He nodded slowly, processing. A quietness fell over them, as they stared wordlessly at one another. Rio's eyes slowly trailed down towards Angel's chest. She felt the breath hitch in her throat, when he reached towards her. Gently, he lifted the necklace she wore. Rio held the angel pendant between his fingers, the pad of his thumb softly tracing over the figure's wings.

"You kept it," Rio spoke, his eyes combing over the figure with Angel could only interpret as fondness. Her heart fluttered. "You know, I put in mad work tryna get this. Cutting grass, washing cars, all that shit. I wanted you to feel good. I wanted you to know I loved you,"

"Rio..."

"Por siempre y para siempre, forever and always. That's what's engraved on the wings. Angel, you're my forever, you're my always. It's only been you,"

Angel felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. This is the most vulnerable she's seen Rio, ever. To hear him speak with such sincerity and conviction, Angel couldn't help her heart swell with love.

"My business is my business, and I can't change what I did and all the choices I've made. But being with you made me realize, mama that shit has an expiration date," Rio brought his hands to Angel's face, and cradled her soft cheeks, "I can't promise that I'll magically become a better man over night, but I want to try, for you will. 'Cause I don't wanna loose you mama, not again,"

Without a second thought Angel leans forward and kisses Rio. Their kiss was sweet, tongues moving in tandem as Angel snaked her arms around Rio, pulling him closer to her. Her fingers caress the top of Rio's head, soft touches rubbing at his scalp. Rio lets out a throaty groan, its vibrations straight to Angel's core. A flush of heat rushes through her entire body. She breaks the kiss.

"I wanna try, Christopher," Angel whispers. She nuzzles Rio's nose. He pulls away slightly, to see her face fully. A smile blooms across his face. He kisses her again.

"Yeah?" Rio's smile grows wider seeing the sincerity in Angel's face.

"Yes, baby," Angel nods, biting her lip.

A flicker of lust danced in Rio eyes. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, while his hands drifted towards Angel's bottom. Rio's large hands squeezed and palmed her ass. He landed a firm smack on her ass.

"Rio!"

He chuckled. "Go upstairs, and get on the bed, how I like," Rio mumbled against her cheek, before placing a soft kiss there.

Angel didn't waste any time, she raced upstairs to her bedroom, completely forgetting about her groceries in the kitchen. She kicked off her heels, stripping off her slacks and dress shirt. Angel sat on her bed, legs spread out for him, in only her bra and panties. Coincidently, in his favorite color, green.

Minutes seemed to drawl into hours as Angel waited. Her heart rattled against her chest, as Angel's mind raced at the possibilities of what Rio was going to do to her. Another a minute or so passed when Angel heard Rio's footsteps coming up the stairs.

He appeared in doorway with two bottles of water in hand. He smoothly entered the room, eyes glued to Angel, he settled on a spot in front of Angel's vanity. Rio sat one of the water bottles down on the table, while he opened the other, taking a quick sip. His were so heated, so blazed as they roamed Angel's body. It felt like invisible hands were rubbing and caressing her all over.

"You look good, mama. All spread out for me. Shit, lingerie in my favorite color too..."

"All for you, baby," Angel cooed.

Rio's lips tipped into small smile. He took another swig of water. He sat the bottle down, putting the cap back on.

"I'm not gonna lie, you hurt my feelings, when you went ghost on me..."

"Rio, baby, I'm sorry–"

"Sshhh," Rio hushed Angel with a finger to his lips, "All is forgiven, but you got make it up to me. You gonna make it up to me, darlin'?"

Angel nodded.

"Play with that pussy for me."

Angel slowly peeled out of her panties, making a show out of it, she made sure that Rio got a view of her ass. She flung them to the side, returning her previous position. Widening her legs, Angel's fingers found themselves at her core, swiping at the wetness, she began to rub taut circles on her clit.

"Fuck!" Angel whined.

"Damn..." Rio voice trailed, eyes zeroing in Angel's core. He hummed in satisfaction as fingers began to unbutton his flannel. "You, look so fuckin' good. You close?"

"Yesssss, I'm so close! I need you soooo bad," Angel moaned as her fingers continued to rub tight circles on her clit.

"I got you, just keep going. I wanna see my pretty girl cum for me,"

Angel felt the familiar knot in her belly as her orgasm began to build. Her wetness pooled out of her the more her fingers worked her core. She felt her pussy flutter when Rio peeled out his t-shirt, revealing his svelte frame covered in intricate tattoos. Seeing his rich skin practically covered ink, tipped her over the edge.

"Ooooh, shit, I'm cummin',"

"Mhm, let it out for me, mama," Rio egged her on.

Angel shook as her orgasm coursed through her, wetting up her sheets. She laid down on the bed, closing her eyes as she rode out the aftershocks, her skin tingling with pleasure. Quick taps on her thighs, brought her back, she opened her eyes to Rio looming over her.

"On all fours, darlin',"

Angel obliged. She turned and faced her faced her headboard. She adjusted herself, making sure her the arch in her back was damn near perfect. Rio's belt and zipper clinked and clanked as he undressed himself. His hands palmed her ass, the callused pads of his fingers felt good against her skin. Angel mewled loudly, when she felt Rio's soft tongue lick down her slit.

"Christopher!"

"You taste good. Sweet as fuck," Rio groaned. "You ready for me?"

"Yes, baby. Please don't play with it," Angel turned her head to look at him, biting down her lip. She gazed into his stormy eyes, clouded thick with lust. With one hand, Rio's fingers trailed down Angel's spine, pausing for second. Then landed another firm smack on her Angel's ass. "Baby! Be nice,"

"Nah," Rio stated firmly, he deepened Angel's arch. He adjusted himself, inching his dick closer to Angel's entrance, "You still got some makin' up to do,"

With no warning, Rio plunged into Angel, bottoming out completely. Angel's toes curled, at his fullness and the stretch that only he could give her. He circled himself inside her, pulling himself out, then plunging back in. Rio tightened the grip on Angel's hips as began to rock into her. She gushed and clenched around his member, nails clawing at the sheets below them.

"Goddamn," Rio hissed, "I feel you tightin' around me. You close already?"

"Oh my god! Yes, you fuckin' me so good,"

"Yeaaaah, that's right me, only me. Nobody else, right mama?"

"N-nobody else, baby, shit! I love you so much, Christopher,"

Angel felt Rio's hips stutter at her confession. It only served as more motivation for Rio, spurring him on, he pistoned into Angel faster and harder. He reached downwards, grabbing a handful of her coils, yanking her upwards.

"Say it again," He rasped in her ear.

"I-I-I love you, shit,"

"Again,"

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Rio I'm cumming," Angel cried out.

Rio held Angel close, fucking her through her orgasm. Angel shuddered, as she felt her essence drip down her thighs, as Rio continued to thrust into her wildly, kissing and nibbling at her ear lobe. He slowed rhythm of his hips, letting Angel's hair go, placing small kisses down her neck and shoulders.

"You did so good for me," Rio breathed out. He softly patted at Angel's plush thighs, as he slowly pulled out. "Face me,"

Angel shifted around, laying on her back she spread her legs wide. Rio situated himself between Angel's legs. He stroked himself a few times, biting his lip at the small squelching noises he made. In one swift motion, Rio plunged himself back in, fully engulfing himself in Angel's wet pussy.

"Fuckkkkkk," Rio growled. Angel whined in response. At this angle, Rio was hitting her spongy spot way deeper than before, causing waves of pleasure to flood her entire body. "Pussy so fuckin', shit, nena,"

Both her heart and her pussy fluttered, seeing the blissed out look on his gorgeous features. Rio was always so controlled and reserved most of them, so to see him like this, guttural, borderline animalistic, Angel loved it. She began to feel him throb inside of her, he was close.

"Mhmm, I feel you, baby. I want you to cum inside me," Angel cooed as she cradled the back of Rio neck.

"Yeah? You want me cummin', inside you. Careful, now. I might fuck around and give you a baby forreal,"

Angel cupped Rio's face, kissing him deeply. She pulled away, nodding her head in a wordless confirmation. Rio's eyes softened, at the realization. He bucked his hips, in deep, desperate strokes.

"Shit! Angelita, you gonna look so good, belly fully, with our baby, fuck. I love you, Angel," He grunted, as his resolve was wearing down by the second. The midst of his brutal thrust, Angel felt another orgasm hurdle towards the surface. Her walls spasmed around Rio's dick, screaming out as she came. "Just like that, fuck, eres mio, todo mio, baby, shit,"

A few strokes were all it took to send Rio over the edge. He buried himself in Angel's neck as his blasted his cum inside of her. Rio groans were muffled against Angel's skin. He held her closed as he shook from the pleasure, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum inside of her. Angel wrapped her legs around him, she didn't want to miss a single drop.

A calmness fell over them, as the breathed in tandem, hearts following the same rhythm. Rio lifted his head up, resting his chin on Angel's chest. Warms hands rubbed soft circles against her skin. He gazed at her, nothing but love and stardust in them.

"You're gonna be a good mom," He mumbled.

Angel smiled softly, she rubbed at his shoulders. "And you're gonna be a good dad. I love you, Christopher,"

"I love you too, mama. Por siempre y para siempre."

[dailyadventureprompts]

I've got a new d&d group and they're almost all new players, with some of them having played with me before in oneshots/ gotten a couple sessions into campaigns that fizzled.

There's the usual learning pains: No one's quite got a handle on the rules yet and is relying on me for which dice to roll ( it's a D20 friends, it's always going to be a D20 unless it's damage I don't know how many times I have to say that). Person A is nervous and over-talkative , person B is nervous and withdraws from conversation, Person C is always running a little late...

But what really surprises me is the difference between them and the group I've had going for 2 years now:

Newgroup THEORIZES in a way that I don't think I've ever seen despite playing this game for two decades. I'll ask them what they're doing and they'll have a multi-minute chat weighing the value of different options. They don't turn to ME, or ask me if things are possible ( which is what new players tend to do), they turn to eachother and ask if they think it's a good idea that they do X or Y and then what could happen from there. I'm trying to be a good DM and let them learn the ropes but it's FASCINATING response. For example; the barbarian says "I'll use my shield to pin the monster in place so we can question them about the villain" and before I can even get into my response another player will say "but what if I used my rope instead to tie them up?", meanwhile none of them have confirmed if the monster is in any way related to the villain or is capable of speech (it wasn't, it was a mimic fyi)

Newgroup is LASER targeted on their goal, which was a surprise as someone who was DMing for a party that purposefully jumped ship on the A plot ASAP and is actively resentful of anything resembling a main quest. Newgroup passes through a mining village that's been deserted after a recent attack by monsters which drove people up into the hills, a Classic rescue mission with a bit of a dungeon delve on top, intended to give the party some XP and magic items before they leave the early game and I stop pulling my punches. Newgroup stays just long enough to confirm that the monsters have nothing to do with the A plot and unanimously decide to leave the village post haste. Meanwhile I have to be careful about what information I drop to oldgroup, as if they catch a single whiff of villanious wrongdoing they'll drop what they're doing and divert their attention to wiping that threat off the map. I've now had to have multiple villains make peace treaties in all but name with this party because of their habit of knocking out rivals/threats/governments.

Because oldgroup know the game really well they're less experimental with what they want to accomplish. They know that things can be solved through class features/dice rolls/damage, and so those are their default solutions to most problems. Meanwhile newgroup has no IDEA what the limits of the game system are so they're trying clever stuff left and right. " Can I hit it in the eye with my arrow? Can I use this spell to find out if _____, Can we use the flying boots to _____?" They're asking genuinely good questions so often that it's made me want to play around with the d20 resolution system to get something more closed to the " drawback/mixed success" sorts of results you get in apocalypse world style games. ( I think I found a neat fix, more on that to come)

[aethon-recs]

This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (11 – 24 October 2024)

Bundling 2 weeks’ worth of updates together, sorry for missing last week! In terms of ship happenings, @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone has been posting a series of fics loosely interconnected by prompts, which started this week and will wrap up next week. 

As before, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, ie, a little bit about the chapter(s) updated, and I’ll throw it in the update for next week. See below for a recap of the author notes from last week:

friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 17k, WIP) “Red flags are good party decorations, and love can be blind if you keep your eyes shut tight enough. Rodolphus discovers team spirit, and Abraxas finds that his home is no longer his castle.” a pound of flesh by @ictyn (M, 21k, WIP) “Harry, trapped and undying in his own mutilated corpse, must turn inward to find his salvation. Inside his very soul is the key to annoying his nemesis into returning for him. In the end, he'd much rather lose his mind to torture than to eternal boredom.” the precarity of virgin souls by @izharmilgram (M, 4k, complete)  “The second part to on line sex & rabbit stew. It includes dueling, cooking (the rabbit stew!), a first kiss, manipulation, and a horcrux reveal.” the alchemy by @cindle-writes (E, 2k, WIP) “A college AU rom-com wherein Harry is the star of the college baseball team, and tries to convince Tom to go on one, just one, date with him.” Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 18k, WIP) “In this last update of AAA, Tom explores how he feels about his attachment to Harry. Very fluffy chapter!” Infinite by @moontearpensfic (E, 4k, WIP) “Infinite is a prequel fic to Love, Murder, Horcrux. In chapter one, the boys start their first year of Hogwarts together, and Harry is Sorted Slytherin. I love playing with the dynamics of Harry in Slytherin House in the 90s! We usually see it in time travel fics, but it's great to explore it here.”

I’ll also highlight newly completed multi-chaptered fics, as it’s a wonderful thing to celebrate with the authors as their work comes to an end! 🎉

Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer (M, 187k, complete) Many things are different and many are the same as Harry begins his fifth year at Hogwarts. Here, living with Dursleys that aren't just neglectful but outright abusive made Harry unable to withstand more than a few weeks of Trelawney's "predictions" back in his third year. Instead, he took Ancient Runes, and uncovered that he had a prodigious knack for runic magic, which opened the door to the darkest of rituals and the magic of mind and soul. A year later, Harry uncovered something horrible within himself - a parasite. So, when Voldemort sends him dreams of corridors and doors, Harry sends him pieces of hell in return.

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapters 38 and 39 (Completed) of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

One Shot | To be Guarded by @cyandenial

One Shot | nineteen (ten years apart) by @midsummersins

One Shot | compromising positions by @virgil-anon 

One Shot | time and a rabbit foot for luck by @izharmilgram 

One Shot | Aliquot by @crowcrowcrowthing @cindle-writes

One Shot | Pink Shorts by @crowcrowcrowthing

One Shot | Premium Pussy by @hopeforthewitch

One Shot | as sweet as blood red jam by @cindle-writes

One Shot | Locked in Focus by @v33r00

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 22 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 16 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 10 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 37 of With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally

Chapter 5 of some like it hot by @duplicitywrites

Chapter 2 of Touch of Death by @moontearpensfic

Chapters 128 through 130 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapters 18 and 19 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 17 of with eyes like these (who sees anybody else) by @cealesti

Chapter 1 of every step I choose to take begins to set the world aflame by @boyneptunee

Chapters 8 through 10 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Parts 1 through 13 of Broken Tomarrymort Telephone by @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone

Chapter 1 of throne sex by @xxx-codtyl-xxx

Chapter 113 of In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapter 6 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 6 of Syzygy by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 5 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Chapter 4 of doublethink by confunded

Chapter 4 of i might be the writer but you'll always be the words by @wixen-writes-tomarry

Chapter 1 of If I were you by @onehitpleb

Chapter 5 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapters 3 and 4 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapters 19 and 20 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapters 3 through 5 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 7 of Like we were before by tzutzutrain

Chapter 20 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapters 1 and 2 of Solitude by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 23 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapters 13 and 14 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 6 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 2 of A Murder by Crows by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 8 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapter 2 of Auror Potter by @albondiguilla

Chapter 15 of A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot

Chapter 8 of Actus Reus by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 8 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 5 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

*

[tarithenurse]

Bubbly

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing/starring: Geto Suguru x fem!reader Word count: 1885. Content: Slight jealousy, smut, drinking, slightly drunk smut. A/N: I thought he deserved some attention? I don’t know. Don’t sue me.

Bubbly

You’re drunk. Not overly so but the sweet, bubbly wine has gone to your head, making you dizzy and bold. Your body sways to the music, hips tilting first this way and that and you know that many eyes are upon you and for once you don’t mind even one bit. Let them watch! You’re young and gorgeous. You grin to yourself, a grin that turns devilish when someone from behind grabs your hips with their large hands and you know instinctively who it is.

“People are staring,” Suguru’s smooth voice curls into your ear.

You lean back, reach for his neck and tangle your fingers in his long, silken hair. “So? I don’t mind.”

Dipping his head to nibble beneath your ear, he growls softly. “I do.”

Somehow, you manage to turn in his arms although you do have to take a moment to position his hands on your ass where you want them.

“Jealous?” You look up at him.

He doesn’t have the same amused smile on his lips as you do and it causes your thrill to falter.

“Jealous is not the right word,” Suguru explains, “that would mean they have something I don’t while it’s quite the other way around.” Finally the grin wins as he scoops you up in his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re mine. Just mine. I don’t like them ogling you that way.”

Resolutely, he slings you over a shoulder and carries you off. You aren’t sure where to – you don’t know the place. In fact you didn’t even know that he had a claim to you because as far as you’ve been concerned you were only friends who teased each other but hey: who are you to complain.

Landing on something soft with and oof, you’re slow at reorienting yourself because the place is spinning gently, sort of lulling you until you feel whatever you’re on jostle. It must be a bed, you decide, sitting up to see Suguru who has busied himself with getting the shoes off you.

“Are you going to continue after that?” you ask almost innocently, causing his hands to still for a moment.

“I think...you’re too drunk to know what you’re asking...”

“Am not,” you protest. Something inside you is telling you to shut up, but now you’ve started and you have to know: “Don’t you like me, Sugu?”

He turns to face you, something untraceable in his eyes as he takes you in. “I like you,” he admits carefully.

“Good,” you smile, a hand reaching to play with a lose strand of his hair, “’cause I like you too.”

“Yeah...we’re friends,” he points out.

You roll your eyes. “Friends don’t get jealous when other people stare at their friend. They are proud and become wingmen or whatever. You like me diffe-”

He’s pushed you back into the pillows before you realize, lips hard on yours as he suddenly straddles you.

Then he pulls back, watches you anxiously as your tongue darts out to taste your lips where you’d met. He sees the dreamy smile erupt on your face and the way your eyes squint when you’re really happy. Only then does he breathe again. It’s a sigh of relief and it’s cut short as you grab him by the collar and pull him down for a new kiss.

He tastes a bit of stale cigarette but thankfully it’s overpowered by something else. Chocolate? You aren’t sure and right now it doesn’t matter because instead of being the sensible one that he always is, he is kissing you back, a hand wandering up from your waist to cup you breast through the dress while the other one comes to rest behind your head. Sighing, Suguru lets his tongue sweep into your mouth to carefully probe at yours.

His thumbs is rubbing at your nipple through the fabric and you arch your back slightly. Fingers tangle in his long hair, not caring that you’re pulling strands free of his half-bun but rather focusing only on keeping him as close as you can.

One of your hands moves along his shoulder and back, reaching the waistline of his trousers which it follows to the front. There, it’s a small leap to find the straining bulge and cup it, feeling the outline of his cock through the rough but pliable fabric of the trousers.

“Damnit,” Suguru growls, rutting slightly into your palm.

It’s easy to loosen the trousers and slip a hand in. Eagerly grasping his erection, you moan into his mouth as your pussy clenches around nothing. He is heavy in your hand even as you carefully maneuver his cock so it’s straight with the exception of the slight curve upwards it apparently naturally has. Reaching further, you fondle his balls, feeling them tighten in your grasp.

But then he pulls back, out of reach which makes you whine and grasp for him getting nothing but air and the soft strands of hair until he straightens up too.

Looking up at him in the dimly lit room, you can see how blown his pupils are and how his chest is rising and falling rapidly. Slowly (or at least it feels too slow), he unbuttons his lose shirt to reveal his chiselled form.

Mirroring his actions, your reach for the zipper going all the way down the front of your tight dress. You watch him – still, enraptured – as more and more skin is revealed with each inch you move the zipper down.

You’ve reached the bellybutton by the time he loses patience and swats your hand away. In a swift move, Suguru opens the rest, pushing the fabric aside to greedily let his hands roam your body, sliding along the edges of your lingerie and causing your skin to pucker.

With a groan, he buries his head in your cleavage, inhaling deeply before lavishing your breasts with kisses and little bites. Pulling at the cups of your bra, he manages to free each boob somewhat, greedily greeting the perky nipples but he’s soon dissatisfied. Wanting more, Suguru pulls you up, sliding the dress down your arms and unfastening the bra with only a bit of fumbling.

You’re not sitting idly. Fingertips explore the planes of his physique before starting to pull his trousers down as far as you can reach when he constantly needs your arms in different places in order to undress you. But he gets the point and as he pushes you back onto the bed, he shimmies the trousers and boxers off, allowing you to take him in fully.

He’s gorgeous. You knew that already but to see him standing there at the foot of the bed in all his naked glory? It makes your heart skip a beat.

Suguru crawls up the bed, taking up position between your knees. Large hands glide up your thighs to the apex where he casually and tortuously slides his thumbs under your panties to feel along your folds and spread the juices there. He’s smirking.

“You want more?” he asks, causing you to nod frantically.

Grabbing the panties, he pulls them resolutely down your legs without breaking eye contact. He sits up on his haunches, gathers his long hair and ties it together with the use of the panties. Then, and only then, does he lower his gaze to your pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Fuck,” he groans, palming himself almost absentmindedly, “looks even better than I imagined.”

Pushing your knees to the side, Suguru bends down and licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, causing your back to arch and your nails to dig into the sheets.

He’s good. He quickly learns exactly when he needs to suckle and nibble and when he needs to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue which he sometimes presses as far into you as he can, lapping up the juices as they are overflowing. Then a finger joins, reaching deeper yet and curling in just the right way so you let a loud moan slip free, no longer caring who might hear on the other side of the door.

You’re done for when he inserts not just one extra finger, but two. Slowly wiggling them in, stretching you while sucking and licking your clit until you forget how to breathe. You’re so close to bursting and he must sense it too because you can feel his smile on your lower lips just before he withdraws his fingers and pulls away, leaving you wanting.

Kissing his way up your body, he eventually reaches a point where his mouth meets yours and his cock nudges your folds. With a hand, he guides his erection along your slit, spreading your juices onto it before Suguru aligns with your entrance.

“You sure?” he asks, voice husky.

“Yes.”

And with that he slides in.

He is slow. He has to be because even with the preparation, you’re hardly ready for his size. Inch by inch, he fills you up. Splitting you, it seems. But it feels so good and you’re clinging on to him with arms and legs, pulling him deeper every time he rocks forward. And when you eventually can’t take any more and Suguru pauses to let you get used to it, you’re both out of breath.

You can feel his cock throb inside you. Can feel his hot breath in the crook of your neck and the way his fingertips dig into your flesh. And you want more.

“Please,” you manage to whisper.

He sets a brisk but steady pace. Each thrust rubs along the right spot inside of you and find yourself tightening impossibly around him as the tension grows which causes his hips to stutter for a moment as he has to get used to the feeling.

The sounds are sinful: skin slapping, juices squelching, moans and groans.

Suguru’s mouth is anywhere he can reach though always seeking back to either your lips or the crook of your neck.

As he displaces his weight, a large hand snakes between your bodies, thumb pressing down on your clit which sends a jolt of ecstasy through you...a jolt that’s reformed into a steady current as he rubs tight circles on it.

You friend – your lover – thrusts deeper and harder, causing the tension to built to the point where all you can do is whine his name before it all snaps and you tumble over the edge.

You’re vaguely aware of him suddenly pulling out, leaving you to flutter with your cunt around nothing. Suguru grunts and when you manage to open your eyes a little bit, you see him coming onto the expanse of your belly.

Slowly, his thumb relents, allowing you to come down from your high together with him as he hangs his head, exhausted like you.

“I’ll find something to clean you with,” he rasps but you’re too far gone to really reply anything.

You just miss him while he’s gone to goodness knows where. Thankfully he’s back soon with a wet washcloth which he uses to clean up his mess while kissing every inch of skin he’s wiped.

“I’ll make sure to have a condom next time,” he mutters, finally catching your gaze.

A smirk plays along your lips. “How quick can you get one?”

[devildomditzy]

Pity Party

In which you pretend to forget Mammon’s birthday and Mammon pretends he’s not upset

no warning or tags, a quick birthday drabble for the birthday boy <3

——————————————————————————

He’s been practically bouncing off the walls all week. Even if he didn’t explicitly say, it was obvious what had him worked up.

It was his birthday tomorrow, something you knew very well in fact. You had planned down to the minute exactly how you and him were going to spend the day (or more so where you were allowing him to drag you throughout the town) already telling his brothers he’s off limits for the upcoming 24 hours.

He’s been dropping hints like mad and, you get it. He’s the Avatar of Greed. He loves presents, he loves parties, he loves attention, especially your attention. But c’mon, did he really believe you’d actually forget his birthday?

Well, you’re kinda hoping he does.

You’ve been planning this surprise for the second born for months now, pulling out all the stops and not sparing any expense. You love that look in his eye he gets when his greed starts up, and you intend to keep that look there all day. But, in order to really make this as special as you planned, it had to be a surprise.

“Yo, MC”, Mammon calls as he sits down next to you in the RAD courtyard during lunch a little too fast, his tray clattering to the table. “Whaddya got planned for us tomorrow?”

You don’t look up for the book you’re pretending to read, instead opting for a look of nonchalance.

“Uh, am I supposed to have something planned for us to do tomorrow?”

He looks taken aback for a moment, but presses onward.

“Aw, c’mon you gotta have somethin’ planned for tomorrow. Tomorrow’s so important, it might as well be a realm-wide holiday!”

You try to hide your smile as your lips upturn as he mutters something about asking Diavolo if it could be added to the calendar.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Wha- What’s tomorrow?? MC, ya gotta be kidding me right now.”

“Is it some kind of weird Devildom holiday? I don’t have all of them memorized yet, you know.”

“You really don’t know?”, his voice breaks a little and you find it so hard to keep composed. But, you have to stay strong! Stick to the plan!

His face falls completely at the shake of your head. He clicks his tongue before mumbling, “Forget it then. Guess it wasn’t that important to begin with.” You watch as he abruptly stands up, trudging away from you in an upset haze.

You sigh heavily looking down at the book Satan loaned you to pretend to read to pretend to look too busy to remember your first man’s birthday. This sucked. The hurt on his features was evident and to know that you caused that? It’s a huge punch to the gut.

But the look on his face tomorrow will be so, so worth it.

You hope.

The next few hours after classes are filled with exactly what you expected: Mammon avoiding you at all costs and making every effort not to talk to you.

You weren’t too surprised to find Beel and Belphie waiting in the spot by RAD’s gate where Mammon usually met you to walk you back to the HOL.

Beel speaks first, “Mammon asked us to walk you home today”. He nods, so resolute.

Belphie, of course, adds the unneeded commentary. “How’s that plan working out? Mammon looked like a sad, wet puppy. More than normal, I mean.”

You groan in annoyance. “I knew he’d take it hard, but I didn’t know he was gonna take it THIS hard. I mean, c’mon, not even walking me home? That’s like his whole thing! That he’s supposed to do! Or Lucifer will kill him!”

“I think I would be upset too, if it were me”, Beel starts as the three of you begin your walk. “Imagine it was your birthday, and you thought no one would get you a cake? That’s so sad,” he sighs, laying his hand over his stomach, looking remorseful.

“No one could forget your birthday Beel, or they’d be forgetting mine too”, Belphie laughs. which seems to brighten Beel’s mood a little bit.

“Right, you always get me a cake, Belphie”, Beel smiles.

“Do you think I should talk to him? Just tell him what I’m planning?”

“And ruin your surprise? You’ve been working hard on that”, frowns Beel.

His twin continues where he left off, “And we’ve been working hard to keep it a secret. Don’t worry, I give it an hour, maybe two before he’s talking to you again. He’s like, physically incapable of not hovering around you like some parasite.”

“But he’s my favorite parasite”, you muse, “and don’t call him that.”

“Well, whatever you do, better make up your mind quick”, Belphie says, opening the gates to the House of Lamentation. “Mammon can be sensitive, but trust me, he’ll survive a couple hours thinking you forgot.”

“Yeah, I guess he can.”

He could not.

Mammon laid on his bed, furious and yet, finding himself unable to be mad at you. Of course you forgot his birthday. Why would you remember?

When you’re getting lunch and shopping in town with Asmo. When you’re having tea and chatting with Lucifer. When your gaming with Levi and reading with Satan. When your napping or stargazing with the twins? When you’re baking with Luke and Simeon and Barbatos and have the future king of the Devildom gunning for your attention as well. Why would you remember him? The selfish prick of the family. Why would you deem him or his birthday important?

And yet, you look at him like he hung the stars and the moon. You touch him like he’s made of fragile glass. You care for him as if he was the most special thing in your life. Did he even have the right to be upset? When someone as important as you forgets someone as insignificant as him?

He can’t fault you. And honestly not talking to you hurts worse than anything you could ever do to him. Forcing himself to not walk you home was easily one of the hardest things he had to do within the last millennia. A birthday without you sounds much worse than just telling you why he’s upset.

But he’s stubborn, dammit. Goddamn Lucifer and the goddamn pride he instilled in him.

So, he does what he does best when he’s upset. He broods. And he does not text you. Oh no, don’t even think that he typed a million messages and erased them, words never coming out right. Cause he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He would never.

He stares at his ceiling, arms crossed, D.D.D tossed aside. He really can’t believe it. It’s already almost midnight. You really forgot his birthday, didn’t you? It’s not that you HAD to get him anything, or you HAD to have something planned, he just… really wished you did.

He thought he was more important to you than that.

As of right on cue, a light rasp comes from the other side of his door. A familiar one. None of his brothers knocked that quietly.

But did he wanna answer you? No. He didn’t want to talk to you and see your beautiful face and spend his day with the most important person in his life, his human. Cause he didn’t. Of course not. He would never.

“Mammon, are you in there?”, your voice rings out and his heart lurches. He wants to be mad at you, dammit he wants to be mad at you. But…

He’s up before he even knows what he’s doing, turning the handle, sighing before he starts, “Look, MC, I didn’t mean to…what’s that?”

He stops mid sentence, pointing down to the box in your hands, wrapped up nicely in gold foil wrapping.

“It’s a present for the birthday boy,” you take out your own D.D.D. looking at the time. And since it’s officially midnight, it’s officially your birthday.”

“W-wha, I-I…Y-you…”

“Happy Birthday Mammon”, you smile sweetly at him, shoving the box in his hands.

He looks down at it and then back at you… then down and it and back at you again, disbelief written on his face.

“Don’t cha ever scare me like that again, got it!?”

“Scare you?”, you question him with a light chuckle.

“Yeah, scare me! I though you forgot all about me!”

“You? How could anyone forget about The Great Mammon! And how could I forget about my first man?”

He watches as a blush rises on your cheeks, a matching one quickly finding its way onto his.

“Well”, you say, shoving the box into his hands, “Open it!”

He pauses for a minute before careful undoing the ribbon tying it together, unraveling the gaudy paper from around the box.

He lets out a soft gasp as he removes the lid. “Is this… MC these cost a fortune, how did you…”

You cut him off, taking the gold chain bracelet out and cuffing it around his wrist.

“Well, you kinda haven’t shut up about it since you saw it, so I saved up as much as I could from my Hell’s Kitchen shifts.”

He stares at it in awe before smiling widely and wrapping his arms around you tightly, rocking you back and forth. “Thank you, Treasure.”

The nickname pulls a giddy laugh from your chest, pulling back from the hug to look him in the eyes. “Anytime, Mammoney. But you gotta get ready”, you reply, poking a finger into his chest to drive the point home.

“Ready? For what?”

“Well, there’s your party at The Fall that starts in about an hour… and then we have to check in at the private suite…then maybe we’ll sleep a little? maybe? Then there’s the breakfast reservations…. and the lunch reservations…and the dinner reservations…and then the Casino downtown is already expecting you…” you list lost in thought, thinking hard to remember everything you had planned out in advance.

Mammon can’t help but look at you with the fondest eyes. Like you had hung the stars and the moon. He puts his hand on your shoulder to grab your attention, touching you like the most fragile glass.

“What, did you really think I forgot?”, you tease him in that tone you know he loves.

And he once again takes you into his arms. He can’t believe he doubted you for a second. Not only are you a bad liar but,

You are the most important thing in his life.

[ja-khajay]

hiii! In regards to the "Guillermo del Toro Says “We Have to Rescue” Studio Animation From “Emoji-Style Behavior”" article/statement, do u have examples of animation that specifically is & is not this type of expression/animation? Bc it's rly hard for me to actually picture this and like I need examples ahaha

Disclaimer - I was not at this specific talk, so I don't have the full context and I know from reliable sources - friends of mine that DID attend it - that it's not all he said there, so that article is pretty much only relying spicy chosen bits. That being said, I will focus on this paragraph.

Getting more specific, he went on to detail what he despises about certain lazy proclivities in commercial animation, notably how characters and emotions are “codified into a sort of teenage rom-com, almost emoji-style behavior.” He added, “[If] I see a character raising his fucking eyebrow, or crossing his arms, having a sassy pose — oh, I hate that shit. [Why] does everything act as if they’re in a sitcom? I think it is emotional pornography. All the families are happy and sassy and quick, everyone has a one-liner. Well, my dad was boring. I was boring. Everybody in my family was boring. We had no one-liners. We’re all fucked up. That’s what I want to see animated. I would love to see real life in animation. I actually think it’s urgent. think it’s urgent to see real life in animation.”

What he talks about here is something I find omnipresent in modern American animation, or from studios that are funded by and/or trying to sell to americans (ex: Illumination McGuff). Here del Toro specifically mentions characters and emotions and how they are codified, which would include how characters are written, how animated their emotions and body language are, how they interact... He also mentions studio animation, an important distinction - this does not include indie animators!

A few things, adding * to those he's specifically calling out here, and more of my own that are not stated but I feel match the style

*one liners

*the "dreamworks face"

*sassy attitude

*quick banter

*taking poses

looking into the camera

overtly smooth, cartoony body language

characters explaining their emotions, plot resolutions around this

I will now get to examples, starting by a comparison between two animated films. Both of these films are contemporary, family-audience, french animated films. They share similarities in setting, being medieval fantasy fairytales about female heroes. One of these films was made with an american audience in mind (Pil), and the other caters to a french audience (Dragon Princess). You can compare how the characters act in both trailers:

Try and only focus on dialog, body language and expressions, barring art style and story!

Feature films that, in my opinion, also fit that "emoji style behaviour" (* for those I have not fully watched) any why:

Turning Red: the sass, the one liners, body language, camera looking, quick banter, plot resolution with characters explaining their emotions. The whole film fits

Puss in Boots: The last wish: sass, one liners, body language, banter, characters explaining their emotions. Scenes like Puss meeting his past lives and the dog's dialog are strong offenders

The emperor's new groove: sass, one liners, posing, banter

Encanto: sass, posing, banter; the explaining their emotions to drive the plot is ridiculously present to the point where I'd say del Toro was vagueing that one with the family example

Klaus: posing, banter, body language, explaining their emotions

*Nimona: sass, posing, banter, expressions...I only watched the trailer so can't say much but it leans HARD into the rapid fire quip territory with emotional resolution

*Trolls: sass, posing, banter, body language, camera looking...

Regarding films that do not do this, the quick answer would be...watch foreign (=not american) and/or older films. Nowadays with internet a massive catalogue is available, although the USA has such a monopoly on animation via its advertising budget other countries don't have that those films can be harder to find especially if you only use english-speaking internet.

As most studio animation is for a young or family audience and my entire example list above is, I will give some recommendations of films that are also for such an audience, but with older and worldwide picks. Some of these films are fully available on YouTube (although not in english always), so I'll be linking that when possible!

Mom is pouring rain (France, 2020s) (trailer): A shorter film about a little girl sent to live with her grandmother while her mom heals from depression. Has emotions front and center but expressed and animated in a way typical of modern french animation, with cartoony designs but subtler, more "boring" acting

The little prince and the eight headed dragon (Japan, 1960s): Beautifully animated in a style distinct from anime, this is a simple folktale adaptation. Fully on YouTube, albeit in its original english dub who's quality is frankly not great.

Next! (UK, 1990s): Stop motion short by an animator who specifically explores subtler, harder to animate expressions, as well as the art of theater, represented here by a Shakespear puppet playing out his works as a one-man show.

Ramayana (India, 1990s): Animated version of the legend of the same name, coupling a Ghibli art style with your ancient legend's large scale battles and polite heroes.

Ne Zha (China, 2010s)(trailer): that trailer is dead serious, it's actually a pretty damn silly movie! Including this one because as a big CGI animated film it's interesting to compare to what Pixar/Dreamworks/etc is doing.

...I'm realizing that I included a whole lot of animated folk tales so for modern chinese animation I'll also name Legend of Hei (2020s)(trailer), an original fantasy film with indie origins and a whole lot of over the top action.

As for films from the US that do NOT match that style? As a country the US has a rich history of animation asides of Disney! I personally grew up on Tex Avery and Looney Tunes cartoons who (pre-90s) are great examples of this.

For more adult films, I'll link my list of mature animation recommendations!

My ask remains opens for any clarifications :) have a nice day!

[tismbisim]

Flour...

Flour...

Where Dark Cacao Cookie once stood now lays a pile of fine flour.

At that moment a wave of emotions hit y/n cookie like a stampede of cake hounds.

Grief, Despair, Misery, Denial, Anguish.

These emotions now all tied to Y/n cookie’s being.

A cookie you held close to your heart... gone... reduced to flour.

“DARK CACAO COOKIE!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

You were sure that he would have won the fight.

You were sure that with his awakening, he would have won.

This had to be a nightmare, it had to be.

This couldn't be real... right?

“Do not despair, dear y/n cookie, he saw the path for true enlightenment and accepted his fate.”

That voice... it was HER voice.

The one who took your precious king and his warriors.

Mystic Flour Cookie

“Mystic flour cookie... I beg you... PLEASE...Bring him back...please...” You said grief drowning your word.

“I'm afraid I cannot allow that.” said Mystic flour cookie, her gaze now cast upon you.

PLEASE MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE, I’ll DO ANYTHING!!!

You said, tears now running down your face.

Mystic flour cookie’s face softened up by a tiny bit seeing your grieving state.

She can't bring back that cookie, otherwise her dream of a perfect world with you would be ruined.

“I'm sorry dear Y/N cookie, But the world I dreamed of doesn't need him”

Mystic Flour Cookie said, her tone unphased by your grief.

The world doesn't need him?

THE WORLD DOESN’T NEED HIM?

“I'M HIS WORLD! AND HE IS MINE!”

You yelled at Mystic flour cookie

Mystic Flour Cookie was... shocked, to say the least.

Why would the successor of her resolution, be your world?

Regardless she didn't care, she would have to...

*CRACCKK*

A sharp cracking sound was heard in the room.

It was your Soul Jam.

Seeing Dark Cacao Cookie turn to flour had an impact on your Soul Jam.

Your Soul Jam had started to change by the immense grief you were feeling.

It didn't shatter mind you, but your once bright and colorful soul jam now starting to turn dark.

A color that didn't suit the bright and wonderful cookie like you.

Little by little your light started to diminish.

Your Soul Jam once holding the light of compassion, now holds the light of inertia.

Mystic Flour cookie was surprised for the first time in centuries.

Her apathetic demeanor seemingly vanished upon seeing this.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mystic flour cookie asked, now starting panic.

Nothing.

You said nothing.

All you did was sob profusely on the pile of flour that was once your king.

Mystic Flour cookie’s mind started to race.

What can she do?

She can’t have you like this!

Her perfect world can’t exist if her beloved is like this.

She needed her bright light to show the world the meaning of apathy.

Suddenly, a tear rolled off her face.

What?

A Tear?

Was she crying?

Why was she crying?

She thought she had lost all emotion after her enlightenment.

Was it you?

Is this some sort of "strange power" that emanated from your soul jam?

She looked at you to see if she could feel any power radiating from you.

Nothing.

She didn't feel any magic coming out of you.

It was as if her very core shook.

She was crying.

Her heart, thought to be cold and distant, was wrenching.

This isn't what she wanted.

She didn't want to see you like this, and yet she can’t help but feel... guilt.

Something she didn't feel for the countless cookies she had turned into flour.

She heard these cries countless times from other cookies.

None of them held any meaning for her.

This isn't any different from those cookies, and yet... she was crying.

She knows she can fix this, yet she doesn't want you to hate her.

If she had known that you cherished that cookie this much, she would have taken a different approach.

She needed to fix this.

“...Y/N cookie, I have an offer for you” she said wiping the tears off her face.

You were too filled with grief to answer.

“I have a way to fix this” she said

You stopped, ‘a way to fix this’?

A way to bring back Dark Cacao Cookie perhaps?

You wiped the tears staining your face.

“...what?” you say with a shred of hope

“I will bring back these cookies and restore your Soul Jam back to when you first arrived in Beast-Yeast" she said her eyes looking at your tainted soul jam.

“Restore... my soul jam?” you questioned only now realizing that your soul jam looked different.

“Yes, in exchange I want you to take me with you” she said hoping that you'll say yes.

“Take you... with me? Why?” You asked

“I wish to repent for my actions against you” she said

“And though it surprises me to say... my heart can't stand seeing you like this” she added

You take a minute to fully comprehend what she said.

On one hand you resent Mystic Flour cookie for turning your king into Flour.

On the other...

“Alright, ...but don't expect me to be all ‘buddy-buddy’ with you” you said, your words filled with contempt.

“Of course, my only wish is that you may forgive me when you're ready” she said giving you a small smile.

Suddenly the world around you started to fade, turning to flour.

.

.

.

.

.

“Ugh... what happened” Dark Cacao Cookie groaned

Realizing he was lying on the floor he sat up before rubbing his head.

“Last thing I remember was...” he said before realizing that you were gone.

“Y/N Cookie!” he called out

“Y/N Cookie!” he repeated, growing nervous

“Y/N- he said before being tackled into the ground

“Dark Cacao Cookie!” you said overjoyed to see your king, hugging him tightly.

“Y/N Cookie, are you alright? You’re crying” he said wondering why earthbread you’re crying.

“I'm better than alright, I’m just so happy to see you again.” You said relieved that he hasn't changed, well personality wise.

Soon enough the rest of the Dark Cacao Warriors woke up.

All the warriors were happy to see their king safe

Dark Cacao Cookie rubbed the back of head glad to see you're safe.

But then a thought entered Dark Cacao Cookie’s head

“What happened? Did we win in our fight with that Beast?” he said, wondering about the outcome of the battle.

“Oh, She’s-” you said before being interrupted.

“Right here” Mystic Flour Cookie said, with a hint of hesitation.

Dark Cacao Cookie’s face turned pale upon seeing the Beast, before that shock turned to rage.

“YOU-” he said before you quickly intervened.

“Whoa Whoa Whoa, Dark Cacao Cookie I know what this looks like, but let me explain!” you said trying to calm down your king.

Dark Cacao Cookie looked at you confused.

.

. 15 minutes of explanation and Dark Cacao Cookie wrangling later.

.

“Hmm, I see.” Dark Cacao Cookie said, understanding what you said.

“Let me get this straight” he said, turning to Mystic Flour Cookie.

“In exchange for your surrender, you wish to repent?” he said, glaring daggers at her.

“That is correct; after achieving my goal, I realized that without Y/N support, even my dream was futile.” she said ignoring Dark Cacao Cookie’s stare.

“Hmm” he scoffed.

“I know you don't like this my liege, but if she is at our side, it would make the war against Dark Enchantress Cookie easier” you said.

He hated the idea of having a Beast roam free, but knowing that she was willing to change her ways...

“Fine...” he reluctantly agreed.

“Thank you” you said, before quickly giving him a peck on his cheek.

[imagine-you]

and that's why I fear it won't do [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Part 5 of my Home 'verse. You're on the slow climb to recovery after finally ridding yourself of Sinister. Wade gifts you with a generous birthday present, allowing you and Logan to get some time away from the city and spend time alone together. You've started to heal, happy with the knowledge that your family has your back in more ways than one. But you never realized just how fragile your newfound peace is until a familiar foe from your old universe shows up, threatening to destroy everything you've fought for since escaping from Sinister. Word Count: 11.1k Author's Note: This chapter may contain: Fluff, Angst, A New Villain!, Surprise Cameos, An Old Friend, Familiar Faces, Kidnapping, A Tiny Bit of Spice, Healing, Reader Whump, Birthday Presents, and Wade Being the Best. Home 'Verse Read on AO3

You knelt at Sinister's side, clutching his hand tight. His smile was edged in blood and he let out a laugh, wicked and devious. "It won't be the last time you see me, Y/N," he swore, his gaze never once leaving yours even as his grip slackened. "I'll always be with you." 

You shook your head, defiant and sure. "You're dead," you protested, the memory of driving your hand right through his skull coming to mind.  

"Didn't I tell you that you were mine? My experiment, my toy, my weapon," he hissed, his grip tightening, painful and constricting.  

Between one blink of your eyes and the next, he was standing, his regenerative ability kicking in except for the hole right through the middle of his forehead. A bit of his brain oozed out of the wound, but he didn't seem to care.  

You were still on the floor, but Sinister reached down, brushing his fingers almost lovingly along your jaw.  

"I'll break you after all," he promised, sure and resolute, as he pulled you up off the floor.  

"Y/N, get away from him! He's--" Logan started, suddenly appearing across the room, before Sinister turned towards him.  

"I've had enough of you," Sinister snarled before snapping his fingers. Logan was suddenly gone, a pile of adamantium bones and blood and viscera splattered across the floor. "I think I have someone more suited for you," Sinister continued, barely giving you a moment to grieve before another Logan appeared before you.  

You knew, without having to have it confirmed for you, that this was the wrong Logan. The other Logan. The one who had left you so desolate and broken that you ended up leaving your universe just to escape him.  

There was a disinterested look on his face as he reached out to touch you. You flinched away, backing up until you ran into someone else.  

Nathaniel's voice was in your ear as wrapped his arms around you, restraining you.  

"First we'll break you," he whispered into your ear. "And then we'll remake you. You'll be ours forever." He looked up at the other Logan, sharing a grin with him, before the other Logan stepped forward. His hand was outstretched and getting closer to you.  

Panic lodged itself high in your throat and you could feel a scream building. "Go away! Don't touch--" 

"--me!" You yelled as you sat up, breathing heavy and heart pounding furiously in your chest.  

"Y/N?" Logan called and you looked up to see he was standing several feet away from the bed. His hand was up, stopped short by the forcefield you had erected in your sleep. The nightstand was left in a broken heap of wood on the floor, and you wondered if your forcefield had shoved Logan off the bed this time.   

You dropped the forcefield, bringing your knees up to your chest and curling your arms around them. You were aware of Logan cautiously approaching the bed before he sat down on the edge of it.  

"Another bad one?" He tried when you didn't say anything, watching you from a distance.  

You shook your head, finally looking over at him. There were so many things you wanted to say.  

He was there again. 

He killed you. 

The other Logan was there.  

Will it ever stop? 

What you settled on was: "I need you."  

You suddenly desperately craved the touch and reassurance of your Logan. You wanted to be consumed by him. You wanted your thoughts to be a blanket of love, want, need, and Logan. Just Logan.  

Logan watched you for a moment before he nodded his head. He crossed the distance between the two of you, pressing himself to your side. "I'm right here," he assured you before pushing gently at your shoulder.  

Logan was being so careful, but you didn't want that. You needed to feel the pull of him, drawing you in until you had nothing else but him.  

"C'mon," you urged, tugging at his t-shirt. "C'mon already. I need you now." 

Logan seemed to get the hint, because he covered you with his body, letting you pull up his shirt while pushing down his pajama pants. He managed to get his shirt up over his head before he started kissing down your neck. You gave up on his pants, since they were already halfway down his thighs, and grabbed the hand that had been clutching your waist.  

You placed it on your stomach before encouraging it to dip below the waistband of your shorts. Logan hardly needed any more encouragement to press lower, his fingers ghosting over you, leaving you aching and wanting. His other hand traveled up until it was curled lightly around your throat. You usually loved just the slightest pressure, the reminder that Logan held you so completely in his hands, but there was a buzzing at the back of your mind that gave you a momentary pause.  

You pulled at his hair, prompting him to direct his kisses back towards your mouth, letting his tongue sink in and taste you. His hand was still at your throat, the touch firm, but still easy and unrestrictive. You were more aware of it than you usually were, and you tried to throw yourself into the kiss, wanting to ignore anything that might make you stop.  

It wasn't until his thumb swept over your pulse that you realized why it felt wrong.  

"Wait, wait, stop," you breathed as you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. You felt all twisted up inside, knowing that the moment you were sharing with Logan was meant to be full of the love you shared, but all you could think about was Nathaniel holding you, constantly analyzing you.  

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, immediately moving to sit back, taking his touch away.  

"When I was...away," you tried, knowing that Logan would understand, "he just, and I, I just can’t..." You offered Logan a helpless look, not sure how to convey what was on your mind.  

Logan knew you, though, which was why he gave a determined nod of his head and then suddenly you were on top. You felt a rush as you adjusted to the new position, a surprised laugh startled out of you.  

Logan smirked up at you, outright pleased with himself. "Do whatever you want to me," he proposed, arching an eyebrow at you. "I trust you." 

You shook your head, overwhelmed with how much you loved Logan.  

"Use me however you want," he added, his voice low and dangerous, making heat pool low in your belly. You felt yourself began to tremble as he grabbed one of your hands, placing it at his throat. "I'm yours." 

You let your fingers briefly dig in before you replaced them with your mouth. You ran your tongue along his flesh before following with your teeth, delighting in the way it made Logan moan. You gave him all your attention, making a path from his neck to his chest.  

When you started lower, he shook his head, bringing you back up towards his mouth.  

"Tonight's about you," he rumbled before pressing his thigh between yours. "You go first." 

You felt yourself flush before you nodded your head. You brought one of his hands up to grip your hip, steading you as you writhed on his thigh, chasing a release you had only started to pursue. His other hand came up, his nails scratching lightly along your back. There was pure adoration and worship in his gaze, and you didn't know how you had gotten so lucky. Logan gave up control to you like it was nothing, but you knew it was everything.  

He had spent time as a lab subject for Stryker. If anyone knew how you felt, then it was him. He knew exactly what you needed, and the fact that he was providing it for you only turned you on more.  

You were close, but you knew you wanted more. Logan didn't protest when you rose on your knees, but he shot you a bewildered look when you grabbed his hand and tapped his knuckles.  

"Rip them," you commanded, pulling his hand to rest at your waistband. You knew that you could just as easily get up and take off your shorts, but you were desperate. You wanted Logan now. Any second that passed between the two of you where you weren't sharing the same breath, space, body just wasn't worth it.  

Logan easily obeyed and it took you no time at all before you were finally seating yourself, sinking down to feel the full weight of him inside you. Logan's hands were gripping your hips. He didn't urge you to move, but you could feel the way he was practically shaking beneath you, pent up energy begging to be released, letting you know that he was just as gone as you were.  

You pressed yourself closer to him, enjoying the feeling that had started to build low in your stomach. It was warm, molten, and spreading through you, begging to be set free.  

Logan let you set the pace, his hands wandering from your hips to your thighs and then lower back. You could tell he was beginning to lose himself, his head was thrown back and he was panting up at the ceiling. His fingers were now clenched tight in the bedsheets and you could hear the fabric begin to rip.  

"C'mon, let go," you urged, chasing your own end. “I want to feel you.”  

Logan was stubborn, though, and refused to fall without you. He brought one of his hands up, drifting his fingers around your knee, before slipping between your thighs. You felt pleasure shoot right through your core and you could feel yourself ascending higher, faster, with each sweep of his fingers. You rocked your hips into his touch, and it only took one look at his face, the way he bit his lip as he watched you lose yourself on him, before you tipped over the edge.  

It was a freefall, dizzying and breathtaking, and as you grasped at Logan, you knew he was right there with you.  

Awareness teased you in little moments as Logan took you in his arms. He put you on your side, facing him, carefully slipping free. He trailed kisses along your jaw up to your lips, waiting for you to come back to him. When you responded in kind, you felt the pleased rumble in his chest and couldn't help but laugh into the kiss.  

"What's so funny?" He asked, barely pulling back to look at you, his breath ghosting across your lips.  

You reached up to tug at his hair, delighting in his growl of protest. Sometimes, the line between Logan and Wolverine was blurred, and you loved him all the more for the distinctions between the two. "Next time," you whispered, brushing your lips against his, "you should wear the cowl in bed." That thought wasn't what made you laugh, but just the idea of it had a little thrill shooting through you, and you pressed your thighs together, savoring the feeling.  

Logan let out a low chuckle before he wrapped an arm around your waist, encouraging you to move closer, as if you weren't already pressed together. You let your right leg come up, hooking around his calf, before you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.  

Silence drifted between you, and you were half-torn between staying in the moment for as long as you could or finally letting yourself drift back to sleep. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Logan sounded cautious, unsure, and you knew he was worried about breaking the contentment between the two of you.  

"Not right now," you answered, shaking your head. "I don't want to think about him or any of them right now." 

Logan didn't press you for more details. He simply swept his hand up and down your back, doing his best to comfort you. When he stopped, his hand resting at the small of your back, you chanced a glance at him to see that he was asleep.  

You let your head rest on his shoulder before you stared at the wall opposite you, trying and failing to forget about Nathaniel and the fear he had instilled in you. 

It was going to be a long night.  

The next couple of months were spent with your family. You had never felt so indulgent with your time, and while you had stepped back from being a hero, you knew that day by day, you were healing. Sinister had nearly succeeded in unleashing a much darker part of yourself, and while you knew you couldn't simply sweep the feelings he had evoked away, you were going to have to learn how to assimilate them.  

You let yourself do anything and everything you never had the time for before. You took Laura to the movies and amusement parks and on picnics. More often than not, Logan and Wade joined you, along with random guests. Wade was slowly but surely making progress with Vanessa and had opted to bring her along when you went to an arcade. You noticed their flirting, but when they disappeared for half an hour, clothing rumpled and Vanessa's hair tousled upon their return, you knew that they were back together. You had offered Wade a high-five, laughing in delight when he pushed your hand to the side and barreled forward with a hug, practically lifting you off your feet.  

It had been easy to add Vanessa to your little family. Once you got to know her, you knew why Wade was so in love with her. Lovely wasn't enough to describe her. She was gorgeous, clever, generous, and a whole host of other attributes that summed her up.  

She quickly became one of your favorite people and you knew without a doubt that the nightmare reality Nathaniel had painted for you would never come true. Wade had been right, Vanessa accepted you and if you were ever in need, she would never let Wade turn you away.  

You also set about giving Laura as much of a childhood as you could give her within a few months. She had been forced to fight practically her whole life, and while she acted like the family outings were stupid half the time, from the little delighted smiles on her face or the way her eyes lit up when you dared her to go on rollercoaster after rollercoaster, you knew that she was having fun. You supposed, in a way, you were also reclaiming a part of your past you had never gotten to experience.  

You had manifested at a young age, and it wasn't long before Charles and Erik recruited you for the X-Men. You had felt like you had been poured right into the hero role from birth and missed a lot of milestones on the way. Now, facing another birthday, you were glad that you had taken time away from saving people. It had given you the time to realize that you were the one in need of saving and you had your own team of superheroes who were all willing to rescue you from your own mind.  

Logan had also decided to bench himself, no longer caving when Wade came to him with a new problem that needed his claws. With time, Wade seemed to even understand, even if he didn't think it was a good idea.  

"I get you want to take a break," Wade said, letting his shoulder bump against yours. "I think this needs to be higher," he grumbled before climbing back up the ladder, helping you adjust the banner he had made for your birthday party. It was pink and sparkled with glitter and you knew that Wade was proud of it. "Look, all I'm saying is I took six years off after I lost Vanessa, got her back, got rejected from the Avengers, and then lost Vanessa all over again. And I was fucking miserable, even though I convinced myself I was fine. I don't want that for you, baby bird," he continued before jumping down from the ladder, steadying himself by putting a hand to your shoulder. 

"It's not forever," you protested, knowing that even to you the denial sounded weak. "It's only been a few months." 

"And that'll turn into years," Wade pointed out, turning back towards the table to grab streamers. "I swear to God, if I see you so much as look at a job application for Drivemax, I'm going to throw you at the nearest villain and let you fight it out of your system. That really did wonders for me." When you didn't respond, Wade sighed before throwing an arm around your shoulders, the streamers slipping to the floor. "I know you're scared after what that fuckbag did to you, but he's not coming back. And I don't want to see you suffer because of him." 

"It's not that I'm scared," you started, unsure if that was even true. "I just don't trust myself." The confession lifted a bit of the weight on your shoulders, but you knew it wasn't everything you were holding back. "How do I know that what he did to me, what he convinced me I was capable of, won't show up the next time I'm trying to play the hero?" You were worried that you would flash back to that moment in Sinister's reality where you had been ready to strike down someone innocent. When you had been ready to kill a little piece of yourself because he had gotten so far into your head and convinced you it was okay.  

"Allow me to paraphrase the ever-wise words of Chumbawamba. You get knocked down, you get up again, and you'll never let them keep you down. That Sinister fuck might've knocked you down, but you've got to get back up again. And as long as I'm around, you're never going to get knocked back down. I'll run every motherfucker through with my sweet katanas if it means you don't fall back down again. And maybe you don't trust yourself right now, but you can trust me. Hell, trust the munchkin and angry bear too. We've got your back." 

You turned to consider Wade, knowing that he was right. All three of them had been incredibly attentive, barely letting you get a moment alone unless you asked for it. Even then, they were close by, ready to back you up if anyone decided to attack. You knew you had family, and you knew you weren't alone, but you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You still expected to see Nathaniel again, but you just weren't sure when he was going to hit again, despite the fact that you had literally been covered in his guts at one point.  

"Now," Wade said, clapping his hands together, "I know technically you're supposed to wait for the party before giving out presents, but this one is just too good to hold back. And it's only so long before all the other fuckers get here or the munchkin and angry bear show up with food, so I should do this now." 

"Wade, you didn't have to get me anything," you tried to protest, but Wade shushed you.  

"Here, baby bird," he said, reaching out to grab your hand before depositing a folded-up piece of paper in it.  

"Uh," you started, staring down at it in confusion. "What is it?" 

"Fuck's sake," Wade groaned before reaching for it and unfolding the paper. "Ta-da!" 

You read the words on the page before quirking an eyebrow at Wade. "How the hell did you even pay for this?" 

Wade waved a hand at you. "Details don't matter. Let's just say Gambit knew he owed you one and he put his thieving ways to work to steal 'ol Chuck's credit card." 

"Wade," you admonished, but you couldn't help the laugh that broke free. "A B&B in Vermont?" 

Wade shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, you and Logan can commune with nature, do some meditation, get the angry bear to give it to you real good without the munchkin overhearing, and I'll babysit so you don’t have to worry she’s run off into traffic. And when you get back, we'll be a team again, right?" 

You realized then that Wade might have had more than one motive for getting you back into hero shape again. "We're always a team, Wade," you assured him. "But thank you, this is sweet," you told him before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his cheek.  

Your lips were still on Wade’s cheek when the door opened, and Laura and Logan walked inside carrying bags of takeout from your favorite restaurant.  

Wade gasped, pretending to be shocked to see them. "You weren't supposed to see such a blatant display of our love affair," he groaned at Logan. "Now he knows about us," he hissed at you, grabbing your shoulders and putting you in front of him facing Logan. "If you're going to get claw happy, you're gonna have to go through Y/N to get to me." 

Logan rolled his eyes before setting the food down on the table. "Bub, if Y/N ever left me for you, then hell must've frozen over, because there's no fucking way that's ever happening." 

Wade acted hurt, bringing a hand up to clutch his chest. "Oh, that really stings." Wade suddenly turned you around, gripping your shoulders and making eye contact. "I'll have you know I'm a very generous lover and I give good cuddle. Just ask Vanessa," he continued, ignoring Logan's irritated growl.  

"Ask Vanessa what?" Vanessa questioned as she stepped inside the apartment. She had an envelope in her hand and didn't look concerned at all that her boyfriend was completely in your personal space.  

You shook Wade's hold off and turned towards her. "Does Wade give good cuddle?" You caught Logan's eye roll, but you couldn't help the grin on your face. It felt so good to have your family in one space, and knowing that there were even more people on the way, all to celebrate you, gave you a nearly giddy feeling of anticipation. You loved your little fucked up family and you couldn't believe that they were all yours.  

"Oh, he's fantastic," she answered, reaching out to give you the envelope. "You should give him a try some time." She stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. "Happy birthday, by the way," she told you.  

You shot Wade a devious smirk before pulling Vanessa into a tighter embrace. "You know what, I think I'll trade in Logan if you trade in Wade, and then we'll get together." 

Vanessa laughed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I think I'm onboard with that," she mused, turning a thoughtful look on Wade, pretending to consider the offer. 

Wade strode forward, hastily separating the two of you. "You get your own goddamn girlfriend," he uttered with a scowl, ignoring your amused laugh as he pointed a finger right at you.  

Wade pulled Vanessa away towards the food and Logan approached you. He stood at your back, winding his arms around your waist and tucking his chin over your shoulder. You brought a hand up to rest over Logan's arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze.  

"I like seeing you like this," he whispered, making sure his observation was just for the two of you.  

"Yeah?" You asked, turning a smile over your shoulder at him. "Well, you'll really like this," you told him, showing him Wade and Remy's birthday gift.  

Logan raised an eyebrow, a bemused look on his face. "Just the two of us?" 

You nodded your head, shivering when he brushed his lips against the back of your neck.  

"A little romantic getaway," you mused, bowing your head to give him better access.  

Logan placed a kiss just beneath your ear, following it up with another at your jaw. "Just the two of us," he repeated, sounding pleased.  

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Is that what you're so excited about?" 

"No Wade showing up at the worst fucking times just to talk our ears off about inane bullshit? No responsibility or worries or having to worry about anyone else but us for a couple days? Yeah, I'm fucking excited to get you all to myself," he rumbled low in your ear, his grip on you tightening.  

"Hey, I'm about ready to stab myself in the eyes," Laura called, disrupting the two of you. There was a look of near disgust on her face, and you knew it was only because she wasn't completely fond of seeing her pseudo-parents ready to make out. "Want to get over here and cut this cake, or what?" 

It was then that you noticed the rest of the guests had arrived. Most of them were talking and laughing while Vanessa lit the candles on the cake. Alex Summers had arrived with Piotr, Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and Yukio. You and Alex had managed to bond over how much Nathaniel had truly managed to fuck over your lives and you were glad that he was another person to add to your little family. Blind Al, Dopinder, and Shatterstar had also shown up, even though you didn't know them as well. Dopinder had handed you a pair of airpods with a wink, prompting Wade to swipe them, muttering something about banning gifts covered in stranger's earwax.  

They were an odd group, but so full of love and understanding, that you felt honored they had let you slip in so seamlessly, as if they had been leaving a place for you all along.  

"We've been summoned," you muttered to Logan, delighting in the soft huff of his laughter against your skin.  

"Then let's not keep them waiting," he said, pressing a hand to the small of your back to urge you towards the group. 

Later, as everyone stood around the table and sang, wishing you a happy birthday, you couldn't understand how you were so damn fortunate. You were surrounded by people who had all shown up for you. Even if most of them started out as Wade's friends, you knew that they were now your friends too. You felt so complete, so involved, that you didn't know how Nathaniel had ever managed to prey on your own insecurities.  

By the time you were going to bed that night, ready to embark on your getaway with Logan in the morning, you felt so wholly loved. Everyone had stayed well into the night, sharing laughter and stories and memories. Once everyone had trailed out and Laura went to bed, Logan had pulled you into his embrace.  

“Let’s go to bed,” he suggested, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “We’ll clean up the mess in the morning.” 

You readily agreed, leading him into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. 

"I'm exhausted," Logan grumbled once he was lying down, throwing at arm over his eyes to block out the light.  

You reached out to turn off the lamp on your nightstand before crawling into bed. You rolled onto your side, throwing an arm over Logan's waist.  

"You're sure you're going to be ready to go in the morning?" You asked him, running your fingers lightly along his stomach.  

"I'll be ready," he assured you, stilling your hand with his only to lace your fingers together.  

"Good," you breathed, soaking up Logan's warmth. You felt your eyes slip closed, exhaustion creeping up on you. You wanted to tell Logan so many things like you were proud of him and you loved him and you couldn't have done any of this without him. Instead, you pressed a brief kiss to his chest, hoping he would get the message.  

From the way his fingers flexed around yours and the pleased sound he made, you knew he did.  

It was just before you were going to traverse the space between awake and asleep when another thought came to mind. "Logan?" 

"Hm?"  

"Make sure to pack the cowl," you told him, feeling a grin tug at your lips when he let out a surprised laugh. 

You didn't realize how much you truly craved having a couple of days carved out for just you and Logan. You arrived at the B&B feeling lighter than you had since everything that happened with Nathaniel. You were eager to check in and spend the next few days fully emersed in him.  

The B&B was beautiful and somehow Wade made sure that no one else would be there to bother you. The owner had left a key hidden in the mailbox for you and no other guests had rooms booked.  

The B&B was secluded, with trees backing the property and land spread out in every direction, unblemished by other buildings or people. A pond sat off to the side with a bridge that crossed the middle of it, before the grounds spread out into several walkways, encouraging guests to either take a nice stroll through pastures or trek through the woods. The air smelled clean, fresh, and you took in deep lungfuls of it once you stepped out of the car, disbelieving that you were getting the opportunity to have the run of the place with Logan for a weekend.  

There was only one winding road that approached the property, nearly a mile long and offering you something you never really got living in a big city.  

Privacy.  

One space that was only for you and Logan.  

You shuddered to think how much Charles had inadvertently spent on the getaway. 

You assumed you wouldn't even leave the bed the whole time you were there, but you ended up spending most of your time outside.  

You explored the woods with Logan and spent a night enjoying the sight of the night sky, content to simply lie on the ground and gaze at the stars. You watched as Logan took morning jogs around the property, sitting out on the porch in a rocking chair and grinning whenever he passed by.  

You even enjoyed a picnic by the pond with him as well. You made out with Logan on the grass, making a mess when you accidentally rolled over onto the pasta salad. You teased Logan, slowly pulling off your shirt before letting your pants follow, throwing them to the side. Logan tensed up before practically pouncing, sharing laughter and kisses before he grabbed you by the hips and trailed his mouth lower and lower until you were gasping and clutching desperately at his hair, using him as an anchor to keep you tethered as you fell apart.  

After, you pushed him into the pond, just to see him come up out of the water. His shirt was clinging to him, and his hair was a mess, and you had never been more in love with him. He growled, playful yet undeniably sexy, before chasing you back towards the B&B. You felt light, free, and you let Logan take you apart again and again, knowing that when you crashed back into your body with his touch guiding you, you would feel complete.   

You spent your last night at the B&B tangled up with Logan, so desperately enamored with him that you felt like you could hardly breathe with how much you felt for him. He had so wholly consumed your mind and your body and you didn't know what to do when he wasn't touching you, worshiping you with reverent kisses.  

In the morning, you knew that Wade had been right. You did need the time away with Logan, and thinking about going back and playing hero again didn't feel so terrifying anymore. You felt like you were ready to conquer anything as long as you had Logan at your side.  

The car was all packed up and Logan was waiting for you in the car. You locked the front door, before walking down the stairs towards the mailbox that was positioned just beside the porch railing. You left the key along with a thank you note inside before snapping it closed.  

You turned and took a step towards the car before you froze in your tracks.  

There was someone else watching you from just a few feet away.  

"Apocalypse," you breathed, terror climbing dizzyingly fast through you, sending your heart racing.  

Apocalypse merely regarded you with a cool expression, but you felt like you were about to lose it. Logan was already out of the car, but you didn't want him anywhere near Apocalypse. You instinctively raised a forcefield, cutting him off, keeping him safe.  

"I've been awakened years before my time," Apocalypse stated, studying you with interest. "My followers have informed me that Sinister has fallen and the world needs me now more than ever." 

You weren't sure how to process seeing Apocalypse again. You thought of the last time you had seen him, back in your old universe. He had left Scott crumpled on the ground, never to get up again, and Jean had unleased the full force of her Phoenix power, ending Apocalypse with Erik's help. Apocalypse had killed not only your universe by destroying its anchor being, but your old life as well. You knew the power he wielded, and you knew you weren’t nearly strong enough to combat it without a team.  

But now, it was just you against the one villain who had managed to take out the leader of the X-Men. He had killed countless others in your old universe and you would be damned if you let Logan become one of his casualties.  

"Why are you here?" You found yourself asking, knowing that Apocalypse must need something.  

It was when his gaze drifted towards Logan that you felt like your world was about to slide to a halt all over again.  

"I came here for my Horseman," Apocalypse claimed, not bothering to look at you, even as you shifted on your feet, readying yourself for a fight. "My Death," he continued, setting off a sinking feeling in your gut.  

"You can't have him," you snarled, beginning to form another forcefield. You were starting to panic, indecision weighing heavy on you, urging you to get Logan far away from Apocalypse. You let the forcefield begin to form around Apocalypse, intent on either collapsing it and hoping it left him a broken heap on the ground like he had done to Scott, or maybe using spikes to impale him.  

You didn't even get to figure out what you wanted to do, because suddenly you were on the ground. There was a forcefield surrounding you, pressing you into the walkway. You turned your head to the side, struggling to pull in a breath as it kept descending. You could feel it pressing into your ribs, feeling like they were going to crack at any moment.  

You cast a panicked glance over to see that both your forcefields were gone and Apocalypse held his hand out, obviously casting the one that was moments away from crushing you.  

"Stop!" Logan pleaded, rushing towards Apocalypse. Apocalypse easily threw Logan to the ground. Logan cast a fearful look at you before turning his attention back towards Apocalypse. "Let her go and I'll go with you." 

"No!" You cried out, but it came out weak and strained. You could hardly breathe, and you couldn't even move anymore. But you would rather die than let Apocalypse take Logan away from you.  

You felt one of your ribs give way and you didn't even have the breath to scream. You knew it wouldn't be long before the others followed suit, likely puncturing your lungs and killing you. You imagined your sternum cracking before piercing your heart, leaving you just as broken and lifeless as Scott had been.  

Logan was trying to get at Apocalypse, relentlessly attempting to attack him, but when he realized it wouldn't work, he rushed towards your side. He slashed and swiped at the forcefield with his claws, but it stayed intact.  

"Leave her alone!" He roared, panic in his eyes when he realized he couldn't save you. "I'll go with you. I'll be your Death. But you spare her!" He demanded, turning a wild look over at Apocalypse. "Let her live and you can have me." 

"No," you tried to deny, but it only came out as a wordless whimper. 

Logan stared down at you, terrified and heartbroken, and you couldn't believe how unfair life was being to the both of you. Logan was so willing to sacrifice himself just to see you live, but you didn't think you would live without him. You didn't think Logan would live without you either.  

"Very well," Apocalypse allowed before he dropped the forcefield.  

Logan was quick to try to scoop you up in his arms, but you hissed in a pained breath, every movement sending fire through your chest. He settled for letting his hands hover over your side and chest, as if he could simply will you to heal with only the power of his mind.  

"Don't go," you begged, attempting to sit up, even though it caused little black dots to dance across your vision. "Don't leave me," you reached out to grab his hand. "Please stay with me." 

Logan held on tight as Apocalypse reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.  

"I'll find my way back to you," he promised just as he shuddered. He threw his head back, gasping for breath, before he trembled. His head dropped back down and when he met your eyes, there was no recognition.  

His expression was blank, and you had never managed to realize that Logan always looked at you with longing, want, love in his eyes until it was gone.  

"Come with me," Apocalypse ordered, prompting Logan to stand.  

You reached out for him, your fingers only just brushing against his calf before he was gone.  

You stared at the spot where Logan disappeared, hoping he would somehow materialize again. But you remembered how Apocalypse operated. First, he found his Horsemen, and then he wreaked destruction on the world.  

You knew you were in shock, and you knew you needed to get up, but you couldn't move. Injuries aside, you couldn't believe that Logan was being ripped away from you again. You had just gotten back on track and now you had stumbled off again, directionless and getting farther away from where you wanted to be.  

A raindrop broke you out of your stupor and you turned your head to look at the sky. You didn't even notice the approaching storm, but even with the threat of rain, you couldn't bring yourself to get up.  

All you could think about was Logan. Logan, who now didn't remember you and was going on Apocalypse's crusade to rule the world. Logan, who had held you so lovingly in his arms just hours ago, telling you he loved you. Logan, who had promised to return, but with each second and minute that passed, you knew he wasn't coming back.  

By the time it was pouring and your clothes were soaked and you were in so much agony that you were shaking, you finally forced yourself to stand. You stumbled over towards the covered porch, a hand pressed to your side, and climbed the few steps that would take you to the rocking chair you had favored since arriving. You let yourself fall into it, sucking in an unsteady breath. You made yourself slip your phone out of your pocket, the screen cracked from Apocalypse's forcefield, but still working.  

Your fingers were numb and didn't want to cooperate, but you finally managed to scroll through your contacts and stop at 'Papa Deadpool.' Wade had been the one to enter his number in, but you never thought to change the name he had given himself.  

You listened to ring after ring, terrified that he wouldn't pick up. Your mind was spinning and you couldn't land on any sane thought that wasn't Logan or fear or heartbreak. But one thing was so ingrained in your brain by now that you were glad it had stuck despite the panic you were feeling.  

When your back was against the wall and you had nowhere else to go, you could always count on Wade.  

"Y/N, what the fuck are you doing calling me?" Wade asked, his voice playful and such a relief to you. "I thought I gave you explicit instructions to let Logan fuck you stupid, so this better be a butt dial. Although, if it is and you're doing what I think you're doing, then I don't want to know why your phone is anywhere near your ass. Unless it feels amazing, and you think I should try it on Vanessa. You know, I've always wondered, if you and Logan are fucking and you go invisible, then can Logan see--" 

"Wade," you whispered, heartbroken and desolate.  

Wade fell silent on the other line. "Y/N?" He tried, his tone now serious. "Where are you?" 

"At the B&B," you managed, wishing that you could stop shaking. You could feel your teeth begin to clack together, and you weren't even sure if it was because you were now freezing and soaked or the shock of losing Logan that was affecting you. "Logan, he's--" 

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Wade asked, turning away from the phone to shout something at Piotr. He sounded cautious, a bit disbelieving, but you knew that if there was a world where Logan hurt you and you told Wade, he would have your back without a second thought.  

"No," you got out, having to choke back a sob. "He's gone, Wade. He was taken. And now I can hardly breathe, and I can't drive like this, and I just need your help. I have to find him." 

"Piotr," you heard Wade snap. "Put that down and get us wheels up in ten," he commanded, tone brooking no argument. "Because it's the baby bird and she needs wings," he barked, before turning his attention back to you. "Who took Logan? What happened?" 

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Every pull of breath stung, and it felt like your chest was constricting, running out of air.  

"Y/N?" Wade tried again, his tone nearly pleading. "C'mon, baby bird, you're scaring me here. I'm gonna need to hear you talk." 

"Apocalypse," you breathed, feeling another swell of anxiety threaten to drown you. "Apocalypse took Logan. I couldn't stop him. He's too powerful. Last time I fought him, I had a team. I had...," you trailed off, not wanting to admit that it had taken Jean unleashing all her fury on Apocalypse to take him down. Erik had helped, but you knew Jean had dealt the brunt of the damage. She had been blinded with rage and kept at Apocalypse until he was nearly reduced to ashes. Erik had helped contain Apocalypse, but you were sure she would have been the one to deal the killing blow no matter what.  

"Shit," Wade groaned. "Alright, listen, I'm going to get Piotr to steal the X-Jet and we'll be there soon, baby bird. Hold on tight for me, okay?" 

You nodded your head, knowing Wade wouldn't be able to see the reaction, before hanging up.  

You weren't sure how long you sat there, watching the storm unfold before you. You tried to take steady, even breaths, ignoring the pull of pain and the way you were wheezing. You would need someone to help make sure your ribs could heal on their own and you would need to make sure more damage hadn't been done. Your thoughts were on Logan, so you didn't realize you weren't alone until Wade was kneeling in front of you, his hands on your knees. You realized he had been calling your name, trying to get your attention for a while.  

"Ah, fuck, what the hell happened to you?" He stood when he noticed you were finally looking at him and not through him. He reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet.  

You cried out in pain, clutching your side. "Broken ribs," you gasped, letting yourself lean on Wade.  

"Let's get you out of here," Wade said, nodding at Piotr who was at the car. He was getting into the driver's seat, intent on driving it up the ramp that had descended from the back of the X-Jet. "And once we get you inside, you can tell me what happened." 

You let Wade lead you into the X-Jet. It wasn't until you were in a seat, Wade fussing over you, that you realized there was a stranger sitting in a seat on the opposite side of the plane.  

"Uh, Wade? Who's that?" You asked, pointing at the guy in a red and blue spandex suit with a black spider on the chest.  

"Huh? Oh! I picked up this kid in Queens. Thought we might need reinforcements," he claimed, glancing over at the guy.  

"Hey," the stranger said with a nearly bashful wave of his hand. "I'm Peter?" His voice sounded unsure, and unmistakably young, and you were starting to suspect he was a teenager.  

"Wade," you said, shooting him a disappointed look. "Did you kidnap him?" 

"What? Tony Stark did it in Civil War," Wade argued, gesturing at the kid. "We needed a team, right? So, I scooped up the little rugrat and brought him just in case we needed a little, y'know," he said before holding out his wrist, his middle and ring finger tucked under his thumb as he made a soft whistling noise.  

"Take him home," you demanded, shooting the kid an apologetic look. "He shouldn't be here." 

Wade groaned in frustration before nodding his head. "No, you're right. He's more sequel material, anyways." 

Once Peter was dropped off back in Queens, the kid even yelling out a ‘thank you’ with a wave of his hand, it wasn't long before Piotr was landing the X-Jet at the mansion. Wade helped you inside, and you were surprised to see Alex pacing in the foyer, obviously worried.  

"What's going on?" You wondered, knowing that it couldn't have anything to do with what happened to you. You had gotten closer to Alex, but you didn’t warrant nearly the level of concern he was showing.  

"Two of the X-Men were taken yesterday," Piotr explained, shooting Alex a wary glance.  

"Who?" You couldn't help but wonder, thinking it must have had something to do with Apocalypse. Had he already found his Horsemen? How long until you were all doomed? 

"My brother," Alex snapped, not bothering to stop pacing. "And his girlfriend." 

"Jean?" You had only seen this universe's Cyclops and Jean once and it had been enough for you. They were young, barely in their early twenties, their whole lives still ahead of them. They weren't nearly as powerful as the heroes you had known in your universe, but you hoped that they might have been able to help a little with the Apocalypse situation.  

"We have no idea where they are," Alex growled, visibly distraught. "The Prof has been trying to reach them, but he hasn't been able to yet." 

"Fuck," Wade moaned, glancing around the foyer as if he would find an answer to all of your problems somewhere. "We can't just catch one tiny break. It's like the author wants us to suffer." 

"Logan was just taken from me," you admitted with a wince. It was half from the pain and half from the thought that you would have to explain the situation to Laura. "Where's Laura?" You asked Wade, letting him start to lead you into the sitting room just off the foyer.  

"When I left her, the little munchkin was kicking Blind Al's ass at Mario Kart," Wade assured you, pressing a hand to your lower back, attempting to help you settle on the couch. "Do you guys have a medic or something? She's got some broken ribs that might need to get looked over. Make sure she doesn’t pop a lung or something." 

"I might be able to help with that," a voice volunteered.  

You froze at the voice, recognizing it as one of the last people you wanted to see at the moment.  

"Remy," you greeted, not even bothering to turn to look at him.  

He rounded the couch before sitting on the coffee table, ignoring Piotr's noise of protest. "Hello, chérie," he drawled, smirking at you.  

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You asked, glaring at him. "I thought you would've been long gone by now." 

Remy shrugged his shoulders, studying you. "Now that I'm free, I need a place to stay. Somewhere Sinister's friends won't bother looking for me." 

You scoffed, grimacing when pain shot through your side.  

"Let's get you fixed up, hm?" Remy asked, standing and reaching out to help you off the couch.  

Wade went with you, keeping an eye on Remy, as if he didn't trust him.  

"You know how to fix some broken ribs?" You checked, skeptical that Remy had any sort of medical training.  

"I've been injured enough times to know how to mend a few things, yes," Remy allowed with a grin. “It’s really not as bad as all that.” 

Wade helped you follow Remy, his arm gently wrapped around your waist, careful not to put any pressure on your ribs.  

"Why are you helping me now?" You couldn't help but wonder. Wade was your best friend and you knew that he was fiercely protective of anyone he considered part of his family. But Remy had kidnapped you and left you to become Sinister’s experiment. You couldn’t trust Remy just yet, but at least you could trust Wade to shoot him if Remy so much as looked at you funny.  

Remy shot you a glance over his shoulder, his eyes flaring red, before continuing to lead you downstairs. You knew he was heading for the infirmary, and you wondered just how long Remy had been staying at the X-Mansion. "Because of you, the Gambit works for no one but the Gambit now." 

You heard Wade snort. "Someone's still full of himself," he muttered, keeping his voice low.  

"Because of you," you snarled, wishing you weren't injured and worried about Logan, because you would have certainly been ready to fight Remy. "I can't get Nathaniel out of my fucking head. Because of you, I feel like he's always in there, ready to tear my mind apart all over again. Because of you--," you cut off with a whine of pain, agony flaring up from your side into your chest.  

"Easy now, chérie," Remy warned, stopping at the door to the infirmary. "You'll be of no use to your Logan if you hurt yourself even more." 

You wanted to argue and tell him that it was none of his damn business, but the fight had drained out of you. Now, you were exhausted and starting to ache from keeping yourself as still as you could, not wanting to aggravate your injury.  

So, you submitted to Remy's exam, aware that Wade refused to leave your side. When Remy lifted your shirt to get a better look at your ribs, Wade slapped his hand away, pointing an accusing finger at him.  

"You keep your damn hands to yourself, buddy. She's taken," he snapped, staring Remy down.  

Remy rolled his eyes before holding his hands up in surrender. "Do you want me to help her or not? I'm sure your friend would love that you let his girlfriend suffer." 

"Wade, it's fine," you sighed, inching your shirt up yourself. Your side was already bruised and even though the movement sent a blinding white light shooting across your vision, you were ready to let Remy help. The sooner you had a better range of movement, the sooner you could set about finding out how to get Logan back.   

Later, after Remy felt along your side, confirming that your injury was serious, but not fatal, he grabbed you an ice pack, advising you to press it to your side, and some pain medication. “You’ll need rest,” he warned you, “but seeing as your Logan is missing, I’m sure you’ll ignore that. Try, at least, yeah?” And then he was gone, leaving you to lean into Wade’s side.  

"Some help he was," Wade muttered, kicking his feet lightly before jumping off the exam table. "I could’ve figured that out by checking WebMD. Let's get you upstairs. Maybe we can figure out what the fuck we need to do to get angry bear back." 

When you got back upstairs, total chaos had descended on the mansion. Tensions were already high with two X-Men missing, but now there was yelling and Alex was cursing before something shattered.  

Wade led you into the sitting room from before and you froze just inside the doorway, staring at the five new people who were now there.  

"Cable?" Wade laughed before moving forward, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "Where the hell you been, loca?" 

Cable shrugged off Wade's hand, ignoring him.  

Your attention had been caught by the man lying on the couch. He was cradling a broken arm and littered in cuts and bruises. There was a deep gash along his side that was still bleeding onto the towel that had been placed under him.  

"Erik?" You called, cautiously approaching him.  

You had never seen him look so defeated.  

Charles was now situated near Erik's head, watching him with concern. There was also a boy and a girl, who looked like they were no older than twenty, sitting in armchairs by each other. The girl had red hair and the boy's hair was silver. The boy was angled in his chair, as if trying to shield the girl from the strangers in the room.  

Erik glanced up at you, frowning. "Who the fuck are you?" 

"I'm--," you started, before realizing it was useless. He wasn't your Erik and he wouldn't know you. "Never mind," you waved off the question. "What the hell is going on now?" You directed at Cable, growing weary of the questions piling up without receiving any answers.  

"En Sabah Nur," Cable answered, his voice gruff and irritated. "Or Apocalypse, as others might know him, has risen and taken a Horseman."  

"My daughter," Erik supplied, struggling to sit up, despite Charles' worried glance. "He took Lorna away from me, and when I tried to stop him, his beast did this. I needed to find somewhere safe for my other children," he added, nodding at the girl and boy. "I couldn't risk them either." 

"Apocalypse took Logan from me," you commiserated, "and broke my ribs in the process. He would've killed me, but Logan stopped him. He let Apocalypse take him in exchange for letting me live." You knew without a doubt that Logan had been the one to hurt Erik and you hated that Apocalypse was using him as his puppet.  

You felt your lips twist to the side, an instinctive reaction to the lump you felt forming in your throat. You wanted to cry and scream and throw a fit, because life was well and truly throwing you back towards rock bottom after you had worked so hard on clawing your way free. 

"Why is Apocalypse taking people?" The boy piped up, ignoring the girl's hiss of 'Pietro.' "He forming his own team or what?" 

"Something like that," Cable allowed with a nod of his head. "He finds his Horsemen and uses them to accomplish world domination. Apocalypse, if left unchecked, will rule well into the future. First, he'll take New York, and then he'll take the world. He'll set off an evolutionary pattern in which mutants are the ruling class and humans are merely subordinates. We have to stop that from happening." 

"How do you know so much about him, huh?" Pietro asked, tilting his chin up, defiant. "You two buddies or something?" 

Cable smirked, but he wasn't amused. "Apocalypse kidnapped me when I was a baby and infected me with a virus that was meant to kill me. In the future, he will slaughter millions, humans and mutants, just to ensure that he's holding the reigns. He's obsessed with the ideology of survival of the fittest and he'll do everything in his power to adhere to that, despite the body count he'll leave in his wake. So, no, we're not buddies." 

Pietro simply nodded his head, letting out a soft 'oh,' before going quiet again.  

"We know why Erik is here," you started, nodding at Magneto. "But why are you?"  

"He saved us," the red-haired girl chimed in. "Apocalypse was about to kill us all when Cable showed up and got us out of there." 

"And you knew somehow? That he was back?" You couldn't help but wonder, shooting Cable a questioning glance.  

"Yes," Cable answered. "Apocalypse wasn't set to wake for several more years. I wanted to find out what caused him to rise early."  

"When he took Logan, he mentioned that Sinister's death triggered it, because his followers woke him early. He wanted Logan for his Death, and now he's taken Lorna, so if he's using her as a Horseman, then he only needs two more. And if he's got Scott and Jean, then he might be ready for the next stage of his plan. It won't be long after that until he gets the power he's seeking. That's all he really cares about, right? Power and mutant supremacy. Once he has that, it'll be nearly impossible to stop him." 

Everyone was watching you with interest, including Wade, but it was Cable who spoke.  

"Apocalypse hasn't woken in over a century," Cable started, taking a step towards you. "How do you know so much about him?" 

"We faced him in my original universe," you confessed, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest, knowing it would only hurt. "He...," you trailed off, shooting Alex an apologetic look. "He killed Scott in my universe. And then that Jean Grey and Erik Lehnsherr killed Apocalypse." You shared a look with Remy, forgetting for just a moment that he was in the room. He would have known all about you and what happened in your universe with Apocalypse, since he stole your TVA file. "Apocalypse might not have succeeded, but he still destroyed my universe." 

"Fuck," Alex snarled, turning to hit the wall, his shoulders drawn tight with anger. "We have to get my brother back." 

"Well, how the fuck are we supposed to do that?" Wade wondered, gesturing towards Erik. "Jean's kidnapped, Magneto's useless, and Apocalypse, in case you haven't been paying attention, is powerful as fuck." 

You took a moment to consider Erik where he was on the couch. His face was twisted up in pain and Charles leaned over to murmur something to him. You could try to defeat Apocalypse with the team you had now, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough. This Erik wasn't in any shape to fight Apocalypse, but you hoped that you knew an Erik who could. If you missed the mark on this, then Logan might be lost to you forever.  

You couldn't let that happen.  

You turned to face Cable, knowing that you had already made up your mind. "I need a favor," you told him, knowing that if he refused, you would have nothing else. "I need you to contact someone from my universe. Magik," you added when Cable didn't reply, simply staring at you with an unnerving intensity. "Tell her that Y/N needs her. And to bring Erik, <i>my</i> Erik, with her. He stopped Apocalypse once, he can do it again." 

"And Jean?" Cable suggested, raising an eyebrow at you in question. “It sounds like she also had a hand in destroying Apocalypse.” 

"Leave her homewrecking ass at home," Wade scoffed, shaking his head. "We'll do this without her, right?" Wade asked, bumping his shoulder companionably into yours.  

You did your best to keep the wince off your face, both from Wade's words and the pain that shot through your side.  

"Tell Magik to bring anyone willing to help," you conceded, knowing there was no way in hell Jean would care enough to get herself mixed up with Apocalypse a second time. You never wanted to see her again and you were sure the feeling was mutual.  

With any luck, it would just be Illyana and Erik, and you hoped that was all you needed. Illyana was incredibly powerful in her own right, and you knew that if you got the chance, you would ask her to get Logan away from Apocalypse, since she could simply grab him and teleport him away. Multiversal travel, while potentially dangerous, might just be the answer you needed to save Logan.  

Cable finally dipped his head in a nod. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said before stepping back, giving himself enough space to consider the device strapped to his wrist. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he shot at Wade, ignoring Wade's indignant snort, before he disappeared.  

"Well, this just got anticlimactic," Wade muttered, nudging you towards the only free armchair. You shot him a grateful look as you dropped down into it, careful not to bend your torso too much.  

Wade left you with a pat on the shoulder, moving over towards Piotr. Erik and Charles were locked in a heated discussion and Remy seemed content to stand with his back to the wall, observing everyone as if he thought someone might attack at any moment. Alex had already stormed out of the room, but you knew he would come back. He wasn’t going to pass up any opportunity that might save his brother.  

"You mentioned Sinister," Erik's daughter pointed out, pulling you from your thoughts.  

You turned to look at her, seeing that she was already watching you with interest. "I did," you confirmed, wondering why she had latched onto that.  

"We knew him," she admitted, with a wry twist of her lips. "He experimented on my brother and me." She brought her hands up, palms facing each other, before slowly pulling them apart, a red glowing ball of energy appearing between them. She let it dance between her fingers for a moment before she waved it away. "Our father found us in a lab and took us away." 

"The Maximoff twins," you remembered, thinking of Nathaniel listing his greatest experiments when he had you strapped to a lab table.  

"Wanda," she introduced, gifting you a small smile. "I take it you were acquainted with him as well?" 

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. "You could say that. He was a fucking psycho." 

"And he's dead? Truly?" Wanda insisted, leaning over in her chair to consider you.  

"Killed him myself," you assured her, meeting her relieved grin with one of your own.  

"Good," Pietro piped up, sporting a pleased expression. "That fucker was sadistic." 

Your laugh was cut off by Cable reappearing in the room.  

You stood, disregarding the twinge of pain, as you faced him. "Well? Did you find her?" 

"He found me," a voice called from across the room. You turned to see Illyana standing there, her portal still open behind her. "And I brought company." 

Erik stepped through the portal next. His expression was grave, and you knew he had been clued in on Apocalypse's emergence in this universe. He spared a brief glance for Charles and the other Erik, who were both watching him in fascination and wariness respectively, before he approached you. He drew you into a hug, gentling his touch when you went stiff in his arms.  

"So, Apocalypse is back and your brute has been marked for Death," he murmured, leaning back to get a better look at you. "And you're injured. I don't know why I ever let you come back here." 

"Because I'm happier here," you reminded him, "most of the time. I just need to get Logan back," you added, knowing that you weren't going to be able to stop until you were dead, or Logan was by your side again.  

Erik frowned at that, and he grew tense. "Listen, I need to warn you--" 

Erik's words were cut off when the portal rippled and a woman walked into the room. She was wearing a yellow and green suit with a brown leather jacket. Her hands were covered with yellow gloves and there was a black 'X' emblazoned on the chest of her suit. But the most distinctive part of her appearance was the white strands of hair that framed her face, a shocking contrast from her natural brown hair color.  

"Rogue?" You wondered, shooting Erik a questioning look. "You had to warn me about Rogue? We weren't exactly friends, but it's not like I hated her either. She'll be a good addition to the team," you mused, already thinking of ways she might be useful in the upcoming fight with Apocalypse. 

"No, not Rogue," Erik allowed with a wince and you suddenly knew why he had tried to alert you about what was about to happen. "Cable said you were looking for volunteers and I don't know why, but they both were adamant about joining us." 

You wished Magik had closed the portal after Rogue, but you knew she was keeping it open for a reason. You had been stupid, naive, to think that it would be so easy. You had never once been fully granted a wish without multiple strings attached and as the air around the portal rippled, signaling another newcomer, you knew your plan was about to come crashing down around you.  

You felt your breath leave you all in a rush when Jean stepped through the portal. She was no longer pregnant, and she had her shoulders squared, as if ready for a fight. You hoped, prayed, that the portal would seal itself, but it allowed one more person through.  

The other Logan stepped into the room, coming to a halt at Jean's side. Magik closed the portal, sealing them off from their universe and effectively trapping them in yours. You felt yourself freeze, as if trying to evade a predator's sight, but both of their gazes unerringly found you. Jean looked nearly disinterested, but the other Logan's eyes flashed with something you didn't want to name.  

"Damn," Wade sighed before he whistled, shooting you a disbelieving look over his shoulder. "Now that's a cliffhanger."  Author's Note: So, there's a very real chance that this fic is going to end after this current arc. I'm not sure if that means the sixth one will be the last or if there will be an epilogue, but I'm sure this will have a sequel eventually, so I might nix the epilogue idea since it would be pretty final for this 'verse. That being said, I am working on mini fics based on the idea that the-gentle-spirit had with each Logan having their own Y/N. I'm hoping to post the first one (Old Man Logan) for my actual birthday later this month. I also have a Wade/Reader/Logan fic planned and I'm excited about that one. If you would like to be tagged in the sixth (most likely final chapter), let me know! If you want to be tagged in all my future Logan fics, let me know! I've got ideas, y'all, so this won't be the last time y'all see me posting about Logan. I think I just need a break from this 'verse since reader engagement has waned a lot since the first couple chapters. That being said, thank you to everyone who has shown this love and left me all types of amazing support and feedback. Y'all have really kept me going. Taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

@4ria790 @lollipopsandstuff @jtthompson @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-gentle-spirit

@hazel2928 @gothicknightz @mkay33 @bibblesdiscordkitten @albiofay

@songwizard // @kailera // @zeeader // @amandarobertsboyce // @shilohh28

@astudyoftimeywimeystuff // @whatthefawk-isthis // @loonalockley // @newromantics98 // @cherrypieyourface

@gigabitemyass // @yyhdl // @lunaticgurly // @starbuni // @quinnlyyy

@i-wear-wet-socks313 // @itsspiderluv // @slightlymediocree // (I just checked my tag list form, sorry y'all)

[be-missed]

Find You Again (Drabble)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Four months post-breakup, Y/N "swiftly" moved on, entangled with a rising singer. Jenna, still raw from their shattered romance, covertly attended Y/N's performance at Coachella Valley Music. The echo of Y/N's new song sliced through her soul like a knife, reigniting her heartbreak with an unbearable intensity.

Warnings: curse words, notify me if there are any

A/N: This is a backstory. A new song released by Wendy, so listen to it if you can!

Song: His Car Isn't Yours // WENDY

Masterlist

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"Do you wanna go around to get some food?" Mia asked Jenna, obviously trying to get her away from the stage where Y/N will perform in a few. The both of you planned this; You will perform your first ever stage in Coachella while she watch you. But it turns out that the world has other plans for the both of you.

You broke up with each other four months ago, but you are now dating a rising singer for two months. It fucking hurt, really. It hurt Jenna so deep. She never heard from you after you dropped off her things in her house and she went away to do filming.

"No, uhm, you go ahead, I'm not really hungry" Jenna smiled timidly to her sister. Mia nodded and leaves Jenna alone at their spot, near enough to watch you clearly, but far enough to not be seen.

Five minutes later, the crowd are cheering for your opening song. Jenna was watching you sing, reminiscing those days where the both of you were in a studio and she was the only person that gets to hear your masterpiece. She wants to gatekeep you actually, she doesn't want anyone thinking that they wanted to be yours. Because you are only hers and she's only for you.

She remembers how she drives to your house, picking you up, driving fast in the highway and driving slow through the suburbs. She remembers how you were always waiting up in your driveway waiting for her car to park in front so that you can greet her. Jenna sometimes parks her car on the other side of the street just to surprise you, but hell she wonders how you still noticed where she is parked.

A tear fell from her eyes, she wiped it up fast, not wanting to be seen. She hates herself right now, she hates how she is so hung up on you while you were out there dating some dude. Jenna thought to herself, "Did some force take you because I didn't pray?" because if it did, right here, right now, she'll be on her knees begging that things aren't real and she's just dreaming.

Your voice break her thoughts when you said "So this song is for someone... that has been a part of my life. A big part actually." You bitterly smiled, Jenna saw the camera focused on you, it didn't go unnoticed that you were actually finding someone in the crowd. You continue to speak "So uhm, if you are ever here, this is for you."

Jenna is nervous, because it's either you sing a song about that dude or your gonna sing about her. But she doesn't want to get her hopes high, so she did some breathing exercises to ground herself when the intro of the song started.

You start singing the song, it was... a sad one. A song that is actually about you and her. The moon is taking over the sun making the venue a tad bit darker, making the fans lit up the flashlights on their phone.

You moved to the center of the stage, closer to the people that are watching you. Scanning every possible face that your low resolution eyes can see. Trying so hard to find Jenna, because she promised. She promised she'll watch your first performance in Coachella.

Am I supposed to find someone

Makes me feel how I felt?

I'm trying think it's time that

I try again with someone new

The stream of tears on Jenna's face is now continuous, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she just couldn't. No one knew the relationship that you two had, no one knew that the two of you are connected. The both of you are rising stars in each track that you take, but the both of you are still not famous enough to break the internet with some dating rumors.

Now it's eight o'clock and I'm waiting on

This good guy to come pick me up

I just wanna have a good night

He's pulling up, oh my God, I see the headlights

And he opens my door but his car isn't yours

It's not you anymore in my driveway

It isn't you drivers seat on the highway

It isn't you on your way every Friday

And I hate that it hurts that his car isn't yours, yeah

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours

Yeah

The bridge hit every part of Jenna's heart that screams your name, which absolutely every part of her entire being. After your break up, she just drive past your house just to see if you are awake, to see if your dining room light is on, or just to see you in your driveway waiting for her.

Now it's 2 AM, he just dropped me off

Asked if he could come in, I told him maybe not

Then he asked what he did, I said that nothing's wrong

It wasn't your car

The song ended in a sad beat with you thanking everybody on your team, the festival, and the audience that watched you. Sad to say, you ended your set with a broken heart. You were happy, of course, being able to perform on a big music festival with a lot of people that can support you and listen to your music. But Jenna wasn't there, you didn't see Jenna standing on her spot, rooted there like she was planted.

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours, mmm-mmm

Eh-yeah, mmm, yeah

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A/N: Chapter 3 is not still finished but here is a drabble for Find You Again. If you have any drabble ideas for Find You Again, just send it! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

[phantobats]

Since Lee has infected me with Jaime x Jason brainrot, I have come back with a small fluffy piece of Jaime patching Jason up:

Jaime had barely settled in for the night when the knock on his door sent a ripple of unease through him. It was Jason—he could tell from the rhythm of the knock—but there was something different about it tonight, softer, almost hesitant. When Jaime opened the door, his heart stuttered.

Jason stood there, battered and bruised, his red helmet clutched under one arm, his leather jacket torn in several places, and his hands bloodied. The normally unbreakable Red Hood looked worn, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion and pain.

“Hey, Blue,” Jason rasped, forcing a smirk despite the clear strain. “Ran into a bit of trouble.”

“¡Dios mío, Jason!” Jaime’s voice trembled with concern as he closed the distance between them, his arms instinctively wrapping around Jason’s waist to steady him. “What happened? You look—” His voice caught in his throat as he took in the full extent of Jason’s injuries. “You look like you went through hell.”

Jason’s attempt at a grin faltered, replaced by a weary shrug. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, cariño. Just another night in Gotham.”

Jaime’s brow furrowed as he helped Jason inside, the warmth of the apartment quickly replacing the cold Gotham night. “No más excusas, amor. You’re letting me take care of this. Come on.” His voice held a softness that Jason could never resist, even when he was stubborn enough to pretend he didn’t need help.

Guiding Jason towards the bathroom, Jaime kept an arm securely around his waist. The weight of Jason’s injuries seemed heavier than usual tonight, like it wasn’t just his body that was battered, but something deeper. As they reached the bright light of the bathroom, the full extent of Jason’s bruises and cuts became heartbreakingly clear—dark purple swelling beneath his ribs, a fresh gash across his eyebrow, and more scars forming from what must have been a brutal patrol.

Jaime turned on the faucet, letting warm water flow into the tub, its soft hiss filling the room. “Sit down, por favor. You’re a mess, and I’m not letting you get away without a proper bath.” His voice was gentle but resolute, a mixture of worry and tenderness threaded through every word. As Jason sat on the edge of the tub, Jaime kneeled beside him, unfastening the buckles of his torn jacket and peeling it away from his body with care.

Jason winced as the leather slid off his bruised shoulders, but he stayed quiet, watching Jaime with an unreadable expression. “You don’t have to do all this,” he muttered, though the usual bite in his words was softened by something warmer. “I’m not that fragile.”

Jaime’s hands paused, his eyes meeting Jason’s with a softness that made Jason’s breath hitch. “You may not be fragile, but you’re mine. And I worry about you, corazón,” he murmured, brushing a thumb lightly over Jason’s jaw before turning back to the task at hand. “I can’t just stand by when you come to me looking like this.”

The warm water continued to rise, filling the room with the scent of lavender, an oil Jaime had poured in despite knowing Jason would poke fun at it later. As the tub filled, Jaime helped Jason ease out of the rest of his suit, his movements tender and deliberate, careful not to aggravate any of his wounds.

“Lavender?” Jason arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. “Really, Blue?”

Jaime chuckled softly, his fingers brushing lightly over a particularly dark bruise. “Sí. You need it. It’ll help you relax. Besides,” he added, a playful lilt in his voice, “I like when you smell nice.”

A genuine smile tugged at Jason’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You spoil me, you know that?”

Jaime dipped a cloth into the warm water, wringing it out before gently running it over Jason’s bruised skin. “Alguien tiene que hacerlo. You won’t take care of yourself,” he said softly, though the playful reprimand was laced with affection. His touch was featherlight, wiping away the grime and blood of the night with care, as though he could somehow wash away all of Jason’s pain.

Jason closed his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back, letting the warmth of the bath and the comfort of Jaime’s touch soothe him. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled under his breath, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the air like a whisper of something fragile.

“Shh,” Jaime responded, his fingers threading through Jason’s damp hair, massaging his scalp with soft, rhythmic strokes. “Don’t say that. Eres mi vida, Jason. You deserve every bit of care I give you.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Jason’s temple. “You’ve been fighting for so long, but you don’t have to fight me, ¿entiendes?”

Jason’s hand found Jaime’s, his thumb brushing over the knuckles as his heart swelled with a quiet ache he didn’t know how to put into words. “I’m trying,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I just… I’m not used to this.”

Jaime’s smile was soft, almost sad, as he continued tending to the bruises on Jason’s chest, his hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who had done this many times before. “You don’t have to be used to it yet. Just let me take care of you.”

As Jaime worked, Jason felt the weight of the night gradually lift from his chest. The bruises and cuts still stung, but they felt lighter now, as though Jaime’s touch had smoothed over the edges of his pain. His body relaxed under the soothing warmth of the water, the scent of lavender wrapping around him like a cocoon.

“You know,” Jason said quietly after a few moments, his voice softened by the drowsy comfort of the bath, “I always thought I didn’t need this—someone to patch me up, someone who worries.” He opened his eyes, looking at Jaime with a rare vulnerability. “But you… you make it hard not to want it.”

Jaime’s heart fluttered at the words, his chest tightening with a mixture of love and tenderness. He leaned forward, cupping Jason’s cheek in his hand as he pressed a kiss to his lips—gentle, slow, and full of quiet promises. “That’s because you do need it, Jay. And I’m here.”

Jason’s eyes fluttered shut, a sigh escaping his lips as he melted into the kiss, his hand resting on Jaime’s, grounding himself in the warmth of his touch. “Lucky me, huh?” he whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got the best guy looking out for me.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jaime teased softly, brushing his thumb over Jason’s cheekbone before pulling back slightly. “But next time, try not to make me worry so much, yeah?”

Jason chuckled, the sound low and soft as it reverberated through his chest. “I’ll try, bebé. No promises, but I’ll try.”

Satisfied with that, Jaime helped him out of the tub, wrapping him in a towel before guiding him to bed. As Jason sank into the mattress, Jaime slipped in beside him, curling into his side, his head resting on Jason’s chest. Jason’s arms instinctively wrapped around him, holding him close as his thumb idly stroked Jaime’s back.

“Te quiero, Jaime,” Jason whispered into the quiet, his voice filled with a rare, unguarded warmth.

Jaime smiled against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to Jason’s skin. “Te quiero también, Jay. Now rest, mi amor. You’re safe.”

And as the night settled around them, Jason let himself finally believe it—safe, in Jaime’s arms, where the world and its weight couldn’t touch him.

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Underneath It All

Paring: JJ Maybank x KookFem!reader

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) PIV, Fluff, Romance, JJ’s got a dirty mouth. (Slight Angst, Slight Dub Con - if you squint) Not Proof-Read.

Summary:  JJ wants more than a casual hook up.

Word Count: 2000 words

Your media consumption is your own responsibility.  

Fine Print: Steal my writing or copy bits and karma will get ya.

“You know, you weren’t my type,” JJ whispered.

"Wh-what?" you stammered. Scrunching your nose at the sudden change in topic, you wondered what drove him to switch from talking about Rafe to well- you.

"You just- weren't."

"Oh—" And then it clicked. He wanted you to respond with ‘and what about now?', opening the door to a conversation you were not willing to have.

It was not that you did not want to. But there was too much animosity between your friends and his; too much of a painful history for any sort of healthy relationship to form between you and JJ. Each time you spoke, it always came back to something one of your friends had done or said. Toxic messes with no end or resolution in sight. Wasn't this the very reason JJ climbed the tall trellis against the side of your home and into your bedroom window in the first place?  To tell you about some shit Rafe had done and why Rafe had more coming to him than a bloody nose and a cut lip?

But there was another reason. Your mind chided, and you baulk under the weight of the truth.  It is for this unspoken reason that JJ showed up at your house in the dead of night while your parents slept soundly down the hall. Why even as he spoke, his gaze unapologetically swept across every inch of your body, only for your core to clench with anticipation. But you didn’t want to dwell on that. You couldn’t dwell on that. Nothing good could ever come from that.  So you narrowed your eyes at him in a futile attempt to get the conversation about Rafe back on track and hopefully send him back the way he came.

"It's fine.  You’re not mine," you shrugged though your heart clenched.  You watched JJ’s eyebrow hitch in response, his fingers twitch at his side.  Folding your arms across your chest you forced yourself to continue. "I’m not into blondes," you said with haughty resignation.

“Is that right?” JJ chuckled, dimpled cheeks on full display. It gave him a boyish charm if it weren't for his teeth, which appeared white and wolf-like in the moonlight. His blue eyes flickered down at your lips as he licked his own.  It made his intentions painfully obvious.

"That’s right…" you swallowed as he inched closer, "..and I don’t. Fuck. Pogues.”

JJ lunged forward, lips crashing onto yours in a brutal kiss.  His ringed fingers grabbed your neck and pulled you close, enslaving you to his sensual assault of teeth and lips. Your knees buckled when his tongue entered your mouth, despite your efforts to resist. While his fingers slipped down your body to your ass, kneading the soft supple flesh covered in silk.   Growling into your mouth, JJ pulled you closer, grinding your core against his stiffening cock. The action makes you instantly wet much to your chagrin.  

Pulling away from the kiss, JJ scraped his teeth along the shell of your ear, his voice on edge as he spoke. “Don’t fuck pogues, huh? Funny since you didn’t mind bouncin' on my dick when that asshole dumped you. Ain’t that right cupcake?” His vulgar words made your stomach churn in disdain and you tried to push him off, but his hands wound their way around your waist. JJ pulled you towards him until your lower halves bumped, then backed you towards your bed and pushed you down onto it.

“That was a mistake. A moment of weakness JJ and you know it.” You said, scrambling backwards on your elbows to put distance between the two of you.  JJ grabbed your right ankle and yanked you towards him.

“It was a mistake JJ…a moment of weakness JJ…” he mimicked, high-pitched and shrilly. “That's cute, princess. Real cute.” he drawled, as he climbed on top of you. With those piercing blue eyes staring down at you from a halo of wispy blonde hair, he looked like an angel but something about his expression reminded you of Lucifer too.

In the seconds that followed, a silent conversation ensued filled with emotions you could not articulate: uncertainty, lust, fear. It seemed JJ understood because his eyes softened immediately and an unspoken understanding passed between the two of you. He suddenly seemed different; unusually calm compared to the chaotic energy he usually exuded. 

JJ had switched tactics.

“That night in your dad's office while everyone watched fireworks outside..." he said softly, his fingers slowly undoing each button of your silk pyjama shirt. Normally, he would have eagerly ripped them open with fervor and passion but, tonight, his actions were languid and gentle. You felt you could stop him if you truly wanted to. 

You remembered the night in question. It was your dad's 60th birthday party which had been a grand occasion; many of the Outer Banks' elite gathered under the stars to celebrate. Your parents had hired a catering company and JJ was one of its servers. 

You gasped as he exposed your naked chest to the cool night air, bringing you back to reality. He slowly leaned down tongue trailing along the side of your rib cage. 

“Was that night a mistake too?" His eyes flashing up at you as he latched onto your nipple with fervor. 

You were immediately swept away as JJ sucked, pulled, and tugged hungrily at your tender flesh. Your other bud was deliciously teased by his nimble fingers while images of that night and JJ holding you down against your father's desk as he pounded you senseless came rushing back. Just thinking about it made you giddy, your fingertips gently gliding into his blonde strands.   

Slowly, he kissed down your chest to your silk-covered core, your body humming with need as he buried his face and breathed you in.

"Where were your kook morals when I fucked you at midsummer, huh?" he asked while hooking his fingers into the band of your silk shorts and panties. Clearly, you didn’t have any because you were now lifting your hips for JJ while he dragged them down your legs and off.  He flung them aimlessly behind him, before his lips pressed soft kisses on your stomach and hips.

“Or that night under the stars while your friends partied by the bonfire?”  He looked up at you, pupils blown “Don’t think I've ever told you this, but that night is one of my favorites. You just kept riding me,  an’ riding me, an’ riding me...” he whispered eyes rolling at the sinful thought  “You made me cum so fuckin' hard I nearly passed out. Do you remember?" 

That night was one of your favorites too. Your friends were down by the beach and you had snuck off to be with JJ on higher ground. The sand dunes provided the perfect spot to pull him down on the white sand and climb on top of him. It was also the first time you had decided to not use condoms since starting the pill a week prior.

You remembered JJ lying beneath you while you fucked yourself on his dick. His hands slid up and down your body touching every part he could reach until they landed on your hips where they stayed.

You rode him for what felt like forever. Slow desperate circles that had you moaning and gasping. The lack of a condom taking both of your pleasure to dizzying heights since you could feel everything. Your eyes never left his handsome face as you watched his expression shift from horny to on the edge of exploding.

When JJ finally came, you had never seen him cum like that before. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his teeth bared as he whimpered your name like a hedonistic prayer. Watching him become vulnerable and losing control like that had you careening into an orgasm of your own.  Your could barely hold on but you kept riding him as you wrung out every last ounce of pleasure. It was only when he brokenly confessed “God, I love fucking you. I love... I love being with you” did you finally climb off him Bambi-legged, with his cum dripping down your thighs.

You nodded at the sinful memory, biting your bottom lip, and JJ chuckled. "Yeah, I knew you'd remember" Pushing your legs apart, he wrapped his arms around your legs, his face close to your weeping core.

"Don't fuck pogues, but your legs are always open for me, hm?" he breathed, his tongue darting out to taste the nectar pooling at your slit. A satisfied hum bubbled from his throat. “Always eager... wet... an’ sweet”. JJ purred before burying his tongue deep in your cunt.

"Oh, Fuck! J-" you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you bucked underneath him, seeking more friction. JJ’s tongue danced along your clit.  Using two fingers he spread your petals apart, your pearl on display for him. You let out a sharp cry when he suckled it,  toes curling, your head spun from the excessive stimulation.  JJ sucked greedily, lapping at your sweet nectar until your clit throbbed from being so thoroughly mouthed.

"Nah uh, can’t come yet, princess" he murmured, as he flicked your clit with his tongue, "Can’t come til I tell you to." His voice was guttural; his words dripping with lust that left you shaking with need.  You moaned again, tilting your hips up against JJ's prodding tongue until you forgot who and where you were.   Your whole body quaking with the insatiable need to cum.

You ran your fingers through JJ’s silky hair and grabbed the back of his neck with both hands.  With your head tilted back on the pillows, desperately you had spread your legs as wide as you possibly can, your toes pointed towards the ceiling. It had him right where you needed him most. Your stomach clenched, not able to get enough air or leverage to do much other than gulp and gasp for breath. You felt like you were a dying star about to be reborn.

JJ sank his fingers deep into your soaked pussy and you lost it. The sound of your cry reverberated throughout your bedroom. Unbridled and loud. Holding down your bucking hips JJ continued to suck your swollen bud as he finger-fucked every last ounce of ecstasy from your pulsing core.

“Can’t even follow simple instructions, hm? You bad girl...” JJ laughed breathlessly, as he crawled up your body leaving a trail of wet kisses along his path.  Reeling from your orgasm, you didn't even notice JJ had taken off his t-shirt or that he was now on top of you.  You sighed as he kissed you passionately, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue. His fingers worked his belt and unzipped his fly.  He pulled his cock out, the mushroom tip flared and sticky with precum.

“But ’s okay… ” JJ breathed, and he wasted no time pushing his thick cock past your soaked petals, his lips brushing your neck with a sigh.  “You needed it, huh baby? I get it. It’s the same way I’ve been needin’ to fuck you all week.  It’s all I could think about... I’ve missed you. Did you miss me too?” He pushed deeper and you cried out, perhaps in response to his question. JJ’s hand flew over your mouth to stop the sound from escaping.

“Ah ah, shh--” he smiled, dimples pronounced, lips ghosting your ear.  “What would your parents say, hm? What’d they say if they caught their princess takin’ my pogue dick?” But even as he said those words JJ pushed harder into you until his entire length filled you to the hilt.  A long sigh escaped you as he began to rock his hips gently.

"Gotta keep quiet for me, baby...” JJ moaned, kissing you along your collarbone.  “Gotta keep quiet while I fuck you... Can you do that for me?” 

You shook your head ‘no’ and JJ breathed out a laugh.  “I know baby, I know its hard but you gotta try, you gotta try...” It was easier said than done with the feel of JJ grinding his hips, his thick cock impossibly deep in you.  A low keening sound escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to your chest. His skin felt hot yet smooth like marble beneath your hands and it sent a shiver up your spine when he tightened his hold and nipped at your neck with his teeth.

His pace quickened after those few gentle thrusts.  He took in deep gulps of air, his breath brushed across your cheek. "You feel soo good.. fuckin’ tight... always chokin’ me--” he whispered, his voice trailing off into incoherent words and moans while his hips picked up their rhythm making you sob into the palm of his hand.  This is what you wanted, what you needed, so desperately. The pleasure, the pain, everything only JJ could give you.

"Fuck, ’m close, baby. So close. Gonna cum-” JJ groaned against your ear, “Can I- in you?" he whispered between shallow pants. You knew what he was asking for, what he needed and you shook your head ‘yes’. Your fingertips embedded into the flesh of his back as you clung to him for dear life.

Leaning into his hand at your mouth, JJ drove himself forcefully into you as if trying to hammer home how good it felt filling you. So fucking gone you didn't care about the noise, you didn't care about your bed frame hitting the wall.  Because with every pound of your heart, every rush of blood to your core, every sharp burst of light behind your closed eyelids, and the stroke of his cock hitting that spot deep within, your orgasm approached quicker and harder than ever before. The buildup was almost too much to bear and you clawed at JJ’s back for purchase.

"God- Ah! J-" you sobbed, biting down on JJ's palm as your whole body convulsed from the force of your orgasm. JJ pulled out slowly until just his tip remained, then slammed back into you violently. He did it once, twice, three times -  a primal groan left his lips as his body stiffened above you, cock twitching as he painted your womb with his cum. He shuddered, gasping harshly against your ear, whispering brokenly the words ‘yes, fuck--’ and ‘mine’ 

After several minutes of panting, JJ gently removed his hand from your mouth and his lips came to meet yours. His face was full of love as he lazily stroked your cheeks and lips. 

"You weren't my type because I didn't think a girl like you would ever want someone like me," JJ admitted softly. "But, I know the truth and  I’m done pretending what we have isn’t real. You can’t keep runnin' away from this Y/N..." he whispered, eyes burning into your own. "You can't keep runnin' from me." 

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war, drabble 3: the one where he trips you up…?

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: There’s a minor mention of blood in this drabble—that’s all that comes to mind!

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is a day late, haha! Last night, my amazing friend @mylostleftfootsock and I were having some crazy story breakthroughs for an upcoming work of mine. They were, in fact, hitting so hard that I had to make the fic outline as we were both losing our minds. That being said, here is a pretty long drabble! I hope you like it—and that it’s a nice palette cleanser from SL. I’m purposely trying to keep this one as light as I can <3

I’m also trying out the taglist for this post! If you would like to be added, just specify for which fics (or if all!) and I will tag you in all my content posts!

Happy Reading!

- Dan

Fun fact: I’m also 2,031 words into Staight Laced 10. I’m on a bit of a roll this week, woohoo!

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

The North Pier, Lancashire, 1895

“It is impossible to understate the importance of this promenade, my Lord,” Sebastian explained, matching Ciel’s walking pace to the centimeter as they walked down the cement, having exited the carriage a block away from the beachside pier’s entrance. Sebastian always remained in the same stride as Ciel, a fact that the Earl knew would only delight the demon if he commented on it.

Ciel had no desire to feed the ego of his condescending demon for a butler. Sebastian already gloated endlessly about his upholding of a certain ‘Butler Aesthetic’ that he’d created for himself the first night of his employment.

“You should tell her that her family always hosts the most inspired events, such as this—and you should be sure to show gratitude for her time. Dozens of men not unlike you would do anything for this opportunity,” Sebastian added, emphasizing his words purposefully when he caught on to Ciel’s lack of focus. His butler was correct: a promenade with Lady Y/n at one of TransAtlantica’s seasonal galas for its shareholders, business executives, family ties, and anyone from the business world who mattered. Every year, the shipping company rents out the entirety of the three piers, leaving its multitude of small shops and taverns open for the casual party.

TransAtlantica always picked a weekend that sat towards the end of the spring, the weather a weekend or two away from scorching the Earth. The decision always ensured the best weather—clearer skies, a light breeze, docile sun and seawaves.

Until this year, Ciel would send his regrets, in the same fashion as he would for the company’s fundraisers at the Langham Hotel each season. This event was too crucial to skip, especially after securing himself a promenade. A lot of Britain’s polite society—not just those typical of London’s social hemisphere—would be present. There were no dance cards restricting Ciel’s time with the heiress, and that meant he needed to be especially strategic with the time he managed to have in front of the Y/l/n family.

“I know,” Ciel grumbled. “The color of her gown brings out the…shine in her eyes, or something like that,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes to further his point. Another quick look around them assured him that there were no guests leaving their carriages blocks away from the entrance.

“And that cavalier attitude was what ultimately led her to all except rebuke you, sir,” Sebastian scolded, eyebrows drawing together in a brief show of frustration. “Make her feel as if she is the most important person to you—the deciding factor in which you succeed or you fail. She is just that, after all.” He said purposefully, mahogany eyes interrogating Ciel’s expression. The Earl kept his gaze resolutely forward, watching guests meet the Y/l/n family at the pier’s entrance archway, alongside a handful of the company’s executive board members. “We will be within their natural sightline in about fifteen paces, sir.”

Y/n was dressed sensibly in a light gown, the bodice appearing to resemble a man’s sophisticated white vest, which cut into a feminine design with ruffled short sleeves and lace lining the square neckline. A lot of her clothing tended to include a hint of masculinity—an effort to be taken more seriously in these executive circles, Ciel guessed. Her long blue skirts matched the clear sky, the shade matching the accents in her mother and father’s attire for the afternoon.

The Richmond Earldom always appeared as a matching set, stressing the importance of Ciel’s own apparel during these events. Lord Richmond, Y/n’s father, was searching for an intelligent man who could manage his legacy just as perfectly as his company’s prosperity. All of these simpering suitors could never seem to comprehend that they were vying for more than just a young woman’s hand. They were romancing a company and ultimately, Y/n wasn’t marrying anyone without her father’s approval.

“Remember, my Lord, I can only tip things in your favor so much when it comes to matters of the heart,” the demon lowered his voice, now that they were within earshot of the family, among the last few straggling guests stepping onto the pier.

Ciel fought the strong urge to roll his eyes at his butler’s joke. Tipping things. How cheeky.

Lady Y/l/n, Y/n’s mother, noticed Ciel first. Quickly excusing herself from the conversation she was entertaining, she aimed her publicity smile at him— Y/n always seemed to default to the same empty look without failure.

“Lord Phantomhive! How lovely it is to see you here,” she greeted, accepting Ciel’s hand in a firm handshake. Lady Y/l/n’s short lace gloves matched her daughter’s. “We’re all so thankful that you could make it all this way.”

“The pleasure is completely mine. You’ve picked an auspicious day for this gala once again,” Ciel answered, pleased with Lady Y/l/n’s social intellect. By greeting him so brightly, she had also caught the attention of her husband and daughter, allowing them to respectfully finish their current engagements.

Y/N Y/L/N

You watched Ciel enchant your mother with an entirely faux smile, not unlike the one you kept stretched across your glossed lips. He always managed to look painfully smug, no matter how he tried to soften his expression.

“Lord Phantomhive,” your father greeted, taking the Earl’s hand. He gave it two shakes, never one to waste words. “I understand you will be promenading with my daughter today?”

You flushed, now the object of Lord Phantomhive’s stare. You could also feel the craning necks of others around you, arming themselves with gossip about you.

‘Lady Y/n is promenading for the first time this season, with Lord Phantomhive!’

‘Do you think they will get married?’

You could already see the headlines. There were already peering camera lenses around each corner, the only warning being their blinding flash.

“If she wills it, we shall. A good day, my Lady,” it was your turn to offer your hand to the Earl, but not in a shake. Instead, he took special care in accepting your gloved hand and equally raising your knuckles to his lips and bowing his head to avoid moving your arm too high. His lips hardly grazed your glove.

“To you too.” You dipped into the shallowest version of a curtsy you could manage without being impolite. You hadn’t quite made up your mind about the Lord of Phantomhive, finding him to be contradictory. Sincere enough one moment, crude the other. He reminded you of a puzzle with pieces that didn’t quite fit together to make the complete picture.

Thankfully, he didn’t waste time in releasing your hand.

Lord Phantomhive righted himself, clearly attempting to dissect your tight expression. You suspected that you could see through one another as plainly quite easily, no more transparent than glass. You felt a small lump form in the back of your throat, as you were unsure how to proceed.

Unfortunately, your mother could also read you like an open book. “You’ve greeted most everyone already, Y/n. You and Daphne should join Lord Phantomhive and his butler,” she prompted in a gesture that was both helpful— and embarrassing. Particularly in front of your father.

“Right,” you answered. At the sound of her name, your maid appeared. Daphne was always close enough to be a call away—except for when she wasn’t, you thought about your first run-in with the Lord Phantomhive. Was he truly charmed by you from that encounter? You had been, admittedly, short with him because of how nerve-racking the situation was. “We will walk the pier,” you said, forcing your shoulders to drop. High shoulders suggested tenseness, which then, in turn, implicated anxiety.

You couldn’t help but feel the Lord Phantomhive could sense weakness. That was how breakout corporations like Funtom were made, weren’t they? With leadership at the helm.

“Be safe, please,” your mother gave your hand a meaningful squeeze and joined the rest of the guests with your father. Your stomach sank as if they had left you flailing in the middle of the cool sea beneath the boardwalk.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“Did you hear about the ferris wheel they are constructing here? Apparently, it is set to open this July,” Ciel said, breaking the silence with one of the many anecdotes Sebastian armed him with. While the Earl preferred silence whenever possible, apparently long silences unnerved the social butterfly in Lady Y/n. Sebastian had instructed him to keep a steady conversation flowing between them at all times—he’d hypothesized she would feel they were compatible intellectually, if he could manage.

“Oh, I certainly have,” the heiress answered brightly. “Isn’t it fascinating? My father and I visited Chicago’s Columbian Exposition about two years ago. The fuel source are steam boilers with underground main pipes that then funnel the steam into pistons that then power thousand-horsepower engines. It’s an enormous axel,” Y/n explained with an intriguing willingness and clarity.

She knew the intricacies of engineering? How curious of a young noblewoman.

“Did you manage a ride on it?” Ciel asked, not offering his arm to her. That would foil his plan, and he figured Lady Y/n wouldn’t appreciate it at this stage. She valued her independence—or the appearance of being self-sufficient, at least. Ciel had yet to make his final verdict of her disposition. After all, the rumors were that her father trained her with the same intensity he would have a first-born son.

“Heavens, yes.” Lady Y/n said, making a clear effort to look ahead as they walked and maintain casual eye contact with him. Their servants lurked behind them, Sebastian entertaining Daphne with some mindless chatter while picking her brain for more information about her mistress. “There was no chance I would miss that sort of opportunity, being up so high like that.”

“I couldn’t imagine it, myself,” Ciel answered. They spoke aimlessly, cycling through topics they had in common: they were each accomplished linguists, readers, instrumentalists. Y/n even claimed to be a worthy fencing opponent, of all things.

“You are half my height,” not even the Earl could fight the amused twist of his lips at the thought of Lady Y/n parrying his advance. The top of her head just barely reached his chin by a handful of centimeters. And that was in addition to her stately heels.

“But Lord Phantomhive, all warfare is based on deception,” Y/n answered, blinking at him guiltlessly.

“Are you quoting The Art of War?” Ciel asked, raising an eyebrow. That would insinuate Y/n was competent in Classical Chinese, since Sun Tzu’s piece hadn’t been widely translated into English yet. A language that Ciel had still been in the process of mastering with Sebastian. The demon claimed to have been ‘around’ when the military strategist created the ancient military treatise. Presently, he felt it had important lessons for Ciel to understand.

Apparently, Y/n’s father—or her tutor—were incredibly insightful to pick such an ancient text to add to her studies. That was quite an advanced piece of literature. Honestly.

”Yes,” Lady Y/n said, as if this was obvious. “Who better to reference?”

Of course she read it. And learned it well enough to have quotes on hand. She could probably recite it in its original language, Ciel guessed. That wasn’t an unattractive quality in a woman—in fact, he felt a dim respect for it.

“I also quite appreciate Machiavelli’s inspired piece, The Prince,” Ciel answered, finding himself confident that Lady Y/n might understand his reference.

Y/N Y/L/N

His remark made you smile.

Of course, you’d heard the rumors about Ciel Phantomhive, The Queen’s Guard Dog, King of the Underworld, Police of the Underworld. While most of the public could only speculate the sorts of private investigative work that Her Majesty requested of the Phantomhive family, plenty of rumors swirled in the absence of the truth.

You heard whispers of no one daring to cross the Earl, for fear of severe repercussions. Life-threatening ones. You heard of the uncertainties surrounding the fatal inferno that burned down the manor so long ago, killing his family. His miraculous reappearance two years later. Apparently, now the Earl Phantomhive was reportedly a hardened man, callous and willing to crush any opponent in his path.

“You find you relate with the Italian diplomat?” You asked, curious about Lord Phantomhive’s response. Did he read this body of work as a step-by-step to creating a tyrannical regime, or did he perceive it as a frank reading of politics and the nature of diplomacy? It had been so long since you had a proper discussion about such matters with someone besides your father, your tutors, or Daphne, and you were decently assured they were weary of your constant need for knowledge.

The Earl seemed to enjoy this type of logical sparring, embracing it, even. It left you…curious to have more. If not, interested.

Lord Phantomhive took a brief moment to reply, leaving you to appreciate the scenery around you. The sky was impressively clear, no hint of any clouds near the horizon. Seagulls wailed to one another, fluttering about the long piers and across the empty coastline. As warm as it was, the weather wasn’t quite hot enough for there to be beach galas.

The air smelled of salt, gusts of air determined to pull strands of your hair astray. They were certainly doing a number on the Earl’s raven hair, tousling it playfully. This whole promenade, you had walked away from the direction of the gala, and now, as you reached the end of the pier, the two of you turned around, starting back.

“I think there’s more nuance—” Ciel started, “are you alright?”

Before you could process your fall, you were face-first on the sandy boards. Your knee erupted in pain, your bare skin touching your dress. You must have ripped your stockings? How could you have tripped? You had only allowed your mind to wander for a second, and there had been nothing obstructing your path, either!

Not to mention, your balance was typically impeccable. You were no ballerina, but years of fencing helped you regulate your posture and weight distribution.

It was as if the wooden board had simply decided to loosen, give somewhat under your weight, and catch your heel between the planks in order to trip you! How peculiar.

“I’m…fine. I only scraped my leg, I think,” you said, more mortified than pained. Your face reddened as you accepted Lord Phantomhive’s helpful hand, dusting off the sandy front of your dress with the other. You forced yourself to give him a weak smile, looking back down at the flooring. The wooden panel seemed to be perfectly in place.

“I’m not sure what could have caused that,” you added awkwardly, releasing the nobleman’s hand.

You were thankful that no one else was present to witness such an unbecoming moment of yours. It was a contender for one of your worst moments with a suitor.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

The panic in Lady Y/n’s face should have been enough to make Ciel regret his and Sebastian’s plan. However, he’d found it to be rather promising. If he could nail the proper response her ideal gentleman would give, Lady Y/n would feel vulnerable around him. That was key to making love inevitable. She might look to him for support going forward.

Of course she didn’t know what had caused her trip. Sebastian was fast enough to loosen the plank just enough for it to shift under her confident step and throw her off balance, only to re-tighten and return to Daphne’s side in milliseconds. Faster than a blink. That left Ciel to provide Lady Y/n with a helping hand, some validation…and apparently a young woman appreciated a man who could bandage her wounds.

“Oh dear,” Ciel said, his eyebrows drawing together in a construction of curiosity and concern. He ignored his own nagging thought that he sounded like his butler, swallowing down the embarrassment. He could feel Sebastian surveying his performance, having coached Ciel on this part of the interaction. “I wouldn’t wish for it to continue bleeding, you did scrape it,” he said carefully.

“Why don’t you take a seat? I have a handkerchief.” He gestured to one of the pier’s benches with his chin.

“It truly doesn’t hurt,” Y/n attempted to deflect, still staring at the plank curiously. Of course, she was smart enough to know that there had been something amiss, but of course, smart enough to never consider the supernatural.

Judging from the way her fist squeezed at her side, the superficial wound stung more than she wanted to admit. There was likely sand around the injury or near it, only an added irritant.

Ciel merely met her eyes, asking her if she truly intended to push ahead in mild discomfort. Y/n surrendered begrudgingly mumbling a mildly unladylike, “Oh, alright.” Not always so untroubled as she seemed, was that it?

“You’re not in any other pain?” Ciel asked, kneeling to get a closer look at Y/n’s scrape. Daphne, unconicidentally, didn’t have any medical supplies with her. Sebastian had conveniently hid them from the maid to afford Ciel the right to tend to his intended.

“No,” she confirmed, cringing at the light pressure Ciel applied to stop the bleeding and clean the debris. “Honestly, the plank had a mind of its own, it feels like,” she mused, her tilted head racing for some logical explanation. There was none.

“And you are positive you didn’t hit your head on the way down?” Ciel asked her, appreciating the ghost of a laugh that escaped her lips. That was the right thing to say, he could tell.

This battle of love was only growing easier. The Earl was growing confident, fashioning his dialogue to that of a novel protagonist’s. Bland and kind, slightly humorous.

“Positive. Unless I hit my psychotic break last week in agreeing to have you join me for a promenade,” Lady Y/n said, standing once Ciel tied the handkerchief around her leg tightly, stopping any more bleeding. “In which case, we might need some more urgent care.”

“Would it take another such reckoning for you to agree to meet me again?” Ciel asked, adding a new flair of seriousness to his voice as he righted himself in front of Lady Y/n. He took a quick moment to dust the fronts of his trousers free of sand before refocusing on Y/n, urging her for the answer he craved. The key to becoming an official suitor of hers.

One outing was a trial. Two was one step closer to serious consideration.

“No, it would not,” the begrudging grin at the heiress’ lips told Ciel that he’d offered her a masterclass in lying and deception. “Perhaps, the 1895 Grand National next weekend. My family loves to attend.”

Y/n Y/l/n was already inviting Ciel to the 57th renewal of the Grand National horse racing event? Perhaps, this endeavor was going to be easier than Ciel originally thought….

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