#I was almost asleep the other night when I was like hold on. have they done that????

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 5)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), mentions of cannibalism this chapter, scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28 @sadslasher13 @night-spectrum @eveieforeve02 @fudosl @melonmochi @shycollectionwolfstuff

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

I Miss the Rage

Your head feels heavy as you start to come to. You lull it to the side to dull the throbbing pain and it rests against something hard and fleshy.

“Don’t get too comfortable there princess.” A deep voice chuckles as your eyes snap open, adjusting to the harsh light of the sun. In front of you, you find the man from before, the one that had combust into flames to fight those Mad Maxy guys.

Realizing you had been leaning on him you go to pull yourself away only to realize you were tied together almost chest to chest if you weren’t shorter than him.

“You have a good nap?” He teased in good nature. You ignore him as you look around yourself trying to remember what happened for you to be here chained up like this.

Oh yeah the big ass magnet.

“Where am I?” You finally ask as your eyes land on the Wolverine. He was to your left chained up to Wade who was mumbling something about Thor in his sleep. The man you were currently pressed up against went to open his mouth to speak again when he’s cut off by Wade jolting himself awake.

“How long was I asleep?” He asks groggily as he leans on Wolverine’s shoulder. The Wolverine harshly shrugged him off.

“Not all of you was asleep.” He grumbles looking down at the man with disgust and annoyance.

Ignoring Wolverine, Wade went to check for his weapons when he, like you, suddenly realized he too was tied up pretty tightly to the Wolverine no less.

“Don’t bother, they were very thorough.” The man says as he watched him squirm around attempting to see if they really took everything from him.

“You know where we are, start talking.” The Wolverine barks at him, having only known this mysterious man for a few minutes you didn’t think he was bad enough to warrant that kind of angry reaction from him. The man raises an eyebrow at Wolverine and smirks.

“You’re in The Void. Think of it as purgatory. Reed called it a metaphysical junkyard where anything useless goes before it gets annihilated forever, and where the TVA sends people that don’t play nice with the rest of the multiverse.”

“Like you?” The Wolverine said harshly, this guy seriously needed to watch his tone.

“And you.” The man said as a particularly hard bump in the road sent you stumbling further into him, he put his bound arms around your waist to steady you. He smelled heavily of smoke and his natural musk, but it wasn't unpleasant, you had thought. When you looked up to apologize to him you could see that he wasn’t even looking at you, instead choosing to hold his gaze with the Wolverine’s who looked like he had smelled something sour. You looked back and forth between the two men, one wore a smirk and the other stuck with his perpetual frown, tired of whatever dance the two were doing with each other you cut in.

“Who are you?” You ask.

“The names Johnny, Johnny Storm.” He says finally looked down at you.

“What does the annihilating?” The Wolverine cuts you off, this time Johnny’s smirk drops as he answers.

“Alioth.”

“From Loki season 1 episode 5?!” Wade gasps in shock and lowkey excitement.

“Everyone here is on the run from Alioth. Most don’t make it. There’s a resistance though. Other people like us that manage to survive, we’re hiding out in the border lands, trying to find a way the fuck outta here.” Johnny continues as he looks out into the desert as he thinks about if he’ll have a chance to see them again, his friends, his new found family.

You saw the somber look in his eyes and just as you were about to say something to comfort him the Wolverine interrupts you again, this time with a gruff “Then that’s where we go.”

Wade kicks a foot up excitedly and if his hands were free you were sure he’d be clapping.

“We? Us? A team? The answer is yes! Shake on it!” He goes to lean towards you and Johnny but just as he does so the telltale snikt of Wolverine’s claws extending is heard as he cuts through the skin of Wade’s thigh.

“Fuck! You nicked it! Got the tip with your little steak knives!”

The Wolverine rolls his eyes as he looks back to Johnny. “The others can help us get back to the TVA. They can fix things.” He said more to himself than anyone else.

Johnny chuckles as he lets his head lull forward bumping into yours lightly and the Wolverine growls at him as he tries to shuffle towards you two.

“Something funny, bub?” He down right snarls as Johnny lifts his head tilting it innocently at him as the smirk from before returns to his face.

“She might have something to say about that.”

“Who’s she?” You ask.

“In The Void, you’re either food for Alioth, or you work for her.” Johnny says as he begins to explain to y’all exactly who she was.

One lengthy car ride and a dramatic rant from Johnny later you all reach the decayed body of a giant, its gloved hands, acting as a gate, opening upon your arrival.

“Paul Rudd finally aged.” Wade jokes but you could tell he was starting to get nervous, as the cars rolled to a stop. Surrounded all around you were goons of all sorts of backgrounds, some seemed quite familiar to you while others you had never seen before a day in your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know the drill if shit goes south don’t you babes?” Wade leans over as best as he could from the Wolverine’s side.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod as Wolverine looks between you two with a cocked brow. In his world you were an exceptionally skilled fighter, an x-man, were you the same in this one? He wondered.

“Keep your voices down,” the greasy man from before said as he came around to unlock the cage you all had been thrown in. “She don’t like the chatter.”

One by one the man unhooks you from the cage and drags you out until you’re standing by Johnny on the other side of the compound. Just as he goes to pull away from you, the greasy man grabs your chin forcing you to look him in his eyes as he smirks down at you showing off his filthy teeth. From the corner of your eye you can see the Wolverine starting to come to your rescue until he’s stopped and held back by some of the others surrounding you, with a snarl you rip your face away from his grip glaring up at him as he laughs down at you.

“Oh she’s gonna love you.” He grins before turning his back to you as he walks away. Just as you go to retort you’re stopped as you hear the Wolverine speak up

“Is that Charles?”

Looking up in the direction he was looking you spot a figure in a wheelchair approaching you four.

“Hey, hey, Chuck, it’s us!” Wade pipes up swinging his restrained arms to try and wave the figure over as if he knew you but the closer they got the more you realized something about it wasn’t quite right. The head while still bald was smaller and overall the figure just appeared more dainty and almost feminine.

Clearing the smoke that was wafting through the compound the figure rose to their feet from the wheelchair revealing a bald smiling woman as she descended the stairs to approach you all.

“That’s definitely not Chuck.” The Wolverine warns as he scents the air, he couldn’t get a good whiff of her with all the others around but he could definitely pick up your scent of fear.

“A Wolverine,” her voice was soft and quaint with a bit of an accent, “I wondered when I’d get one of you here.”

“You’re one of Xavier’s.” She points out as she looks him up and down in his suit like a fresh piece of meat, making your skin crawl.

“You know him?” The Wolverine asks and he looks down at her from his nose.

“Oh, I knew him,” she ponders for a moment before twirling around on her heel to look at you and Johnny now, “We shared a womb, I tried to strangle the sly little fellow with my umbilical cord.”

“I’ve never liked roommates,” Wade decides to chime in from the Wolverine’s side, “Mine’s blind, except she can see cocaine for some reason.” He chuckles nervously before turning back to Wolverine who hadn’t torn his hard gaze away from the bald woman just yet.

“Who are you?” The Wolverine finally asks.

“Charles Xavier’s twin, Cassandra Nova.” She grinned as she turns back to them.

“Oh, shit.” “I was an anal birth.” Both men said at the same time at the revelation.

“Jesus Wade.” You shook your head as you watched your best friend flounder in embarrassment, you knew being tied up without his weapons at his side Wade was probably feeling vulnerable right about now, healing factor or not.

“You two are adorable.” She smiled smiled going to pat Wade on his masked cheek before pointing a long bony finger exaggeratedly in Johnny’s direction

“And you,” she says walking up to the two of you once again, “I’ve been trying to catch this little firefly for years, haven’t I, Johnny?”

“You picked the wrong time to make new friends.” She tsked as she held his gaze.

“Oh, Johnny told us all about you!” Wade shouts over to her causing her to turn her gaze back to him and the Wolverine.

“Wade don’t.” You started to say, worry lacing your voice as you knew exactly what was about to come out of his mouth. He had a bad habit of being a terrible gossip.

“Yeah, maybe don’t bub.” The Wolverine agreed with you, looking at Johnny, who’s face had lost all its color, but it was too late.

“Yeah, Johnny told us you’re a psychotic, megalomaniacal asshole, his words not mine.” Wade recited word for word. “Hell bent on domination and pain.”

“You said all that about me?” Cassandra said, sounding almost as if she were flattered by his words as she batted her lashes at Johnny.

“No, no! I didn’t say anything!”

“Sticks and stones, Johnny! Don’t let her intimidate you!” Wade continues to go on about how Johnny had called her a pixie slab of third-rate dime store nut milk before he kept going.

“I have never said any of those words in my entire life!” Johnny shot back nervously but Wade waved him off.

“Ah! The modesty!” Wade laughs throwing his head back with a hand on his chest, “And people think I’m a shit-topper, but this guy,” He chef kisses his fingers through his mask, “next level.”

“This, I-I don’t even know what half of that even means!” Johnny stuttered fearfully.

“My hat’s off to you sir, truly.”

“I didn’t- he’s-, that’s- I-I-I don’t-!”

The next thing you knew it was completely silent before you heard a wet pop as something thick and warm splashed up against you, covering you in it. Turning to look at Johnny to see what it was you’re met with a pair of eyes widely staring at you, Johnny’s muscles and organs all out on display before he crumbles to the ground in a wet heap of viscera and gore.

You fall to your ass as the chains supporting Johnny give way, scrambling to scoot away. You felt tears well up as bile rose to your throat at the sight in front of you. You couldn’t peel your eyes away from the mass that had been your acquaintance just moments ago.

Everyone around you sounds muffled like they’re underwater as you looked down to your trembling hands, they were stained red with blood, you were covered in it from head to toe. Pulling at your restraints you go to scrub the carnage from your face, the rattling of the chains drawing Cassandra’s attention to you. She smiles down at you as she approaches placing a delicate hand under your chin to draw your gaze back to her.

Wade and the Wolverine go to spring forward towards you but are held back by Cassandra’s men, causing her to stop and look between the three of you, her smile growing more wicked.

“What exactly did you three do to wind up here in my humble abode?” She asks as she caresses your face in her hand, watching as the Wolverine tenses.

“Big Yellow here is a backup Anchor Being, and I’m Marvel Jesus, MJ if you're nasty. Honey buns over there is just my ride or die, more emphasis on the ride part. She’s not really important.” Wade answers, trying to deflect, he was trying to diminish you, minimize your importance so she would leave you alone but she still refused to let you go.

“This may be hard to hear, but there’s another British villain and he gonna fuck our universe, if me and jelly bean over there don’t stop him.” He says trying to step forward towards you two again but he’s pulled back by another one of her goons. Cassandra looks back between you and Wade and throws her head back with a laugh.

“Oh, honey, you guys don’t really strike me as a world-saving type.” She says wiping the tears from your eyes as she finally decides to let you go, turning herself back to Wade as she walks up to him.

“Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” She asks as she circles him, Wade is eerily quiet for a moment as he looks you over, making sure Cassandra hadn’t done anything to you that he had missed.

“Listen I didn’t want it to come to this but either you help us, or my friend here is gonna sing the entirety of the Greatest Showman, with zero warm up.” Wade finally blinks away from you as he nods his head back to the Wolverine at his side.

“Where’d you get the chair?” The Wolverine asks, completely ignoring Wade as Cassandra approaches.

“Once in a while, I do get an Xavier through here.” She shrugs as if it were the most boring thing in the world to talk about. “He didn’t care to find me so I found him instead.”

The Wolverine goes to open his mouth again when he’s interrupted by Wade letting out a long drawn out groan. “Oh my goooood, gen Z and they’re trauma-bragging!”

“Can’t you just stuff it down, or turn it into accomplishments or cancer like the rest of us?” He whines dramatically.

“I’m not like the rest of you,” she tells Wade before moving back to stand in front of the Wolverine “Except maybe the Wolverine.”

“Now we could be truly terrifying together.” She said circling around him as she holds his gaze

“Yeah? You’re that scary, huh?” He asked her not breaking eye contact as she does so. His fingers twitching at his side waiting to unleash his claws.

“The TVA certainly thought so, that’s why they sent me here before I could walk.” she says coming to stand in front of him again, she looks off into the distance for a moment, lost in thought, before Turning her attention back to him. “It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, I love it here.”

“You live in a garbage dump.” Wade chimes in but she simply smirks up at him before turning away, walking back over to where you still sat shocked on the ground.

“The Void is a paradise, I can wield my power here without shame.” She says over her shoulder to the two men.

“Unfortunately, I had no Charles Xavier to teach me temperance.” She says raising your face with her chin. She goes to touch your forehead with a single finger, dragging it down until it sat in between your eyes. “I have to get my hands dirty.”

Slowly she began to push in causing you to cry out at the intrusion. The Wolverine breaks free of his capture’s hold and goes to lunge at Cassandra, claws drawn, before she holds up a hand stopping him mid-air.

“That’s not very nice now is it?” She says without looking away from your pain riddled face as she continues to finger you between the eyes. With a flick of her wrist she sends Wolverine pummeling down into the ground until he’s coughing up dirt, only his claws still visible, before flinging him far away, out of sight.

“Now then, if I can’t have myself a Wolverine, I’ll have to settle for the next best thing.” She said pushing in even further. “His little devil.”

You scream out in pain as a pressure builds behind your eyelids and in your sinuses. Flashes of images passed over you like your nightmares before. First you were strapped to a table as Ajax painfully tore into you and stitched you back up again. He never bothered to use anesthesia on you when he “operated”, always said it was a waste of time and resources, next you were in a tank filled with water as you banged on the glass trying to get out so you wouldn’t drown.

More memories flashed before your eyes flickering like a tv switching channels, memories of your childhood with your alcohol dad and getting diagnosed with cancer right out of high school, memories of you first meeting Wade and that time when your healing factor kicked in for the first time saving your life, all of it passed by in a blur as you continued to cry out, it felt like your head was being split in two.

“What’s this? You don’t even know about this yet do you?” Cassandra suddenly asks you as if she had found something with her digging, she dips another finger into you as she leans forward watched Wade struggle to get to you from the corner of her eye with a smirk. “Don’t worry darling, I can help you with that.”

Suddenly there’s a pulling sensation as the thumbing from before returns at full force. Your head feels like it’s being ripped apart and pulled back together at the same time.

“Relax, I got you.”

I got you.

It echoes over and over again with the pounding of your head until it all comes to a stop as you black out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wade stops struggling momentarily as he watches you fall limp. Cassandra stands to her feet flicking your brain juice from her fingers as she turns to her.

“Tie her up, I feel this is about to get real interesting.” Her men scramble away from Wade in a hurry to do as she asks before she could do the same to them. Cassandra raised a single nimble finger in the air as she approached Wade readying herself to enter his brain.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, I don’t want the smoke!” He holds up his hands in surrender. Eyes still on your limp frame for a moment before he tears his gaze away to look at Cassandra pleadingly. “We don’t have any beef with you. I just want to get us home and save my friends.”

“Well, the thing is, I could get you home.” She said as if contemplating it. “But I don’t want to.” She turns her attention back to her men who were now surrounding you with ropes as they got ready to bind your unconscious body.

Reaching down to his boot with his now free hands Wade pulls out a small hunting knife, baby knife as you had so cutely dubbed it, and raises it, threatening her with it.

Cassandra smiles at him as she watches him with a cocked head.

“Trying to play hero?” She asks

“I don’t wanna have to do this to ya Calliou but you hurt my friend so now it’s baby knife’s turn to fuck you in the face.” Wade says, nodding down to his knife in hand. Suddenly Cassandra disappears from his line of vision and before he has a chance to register where she went he feels fingers starting to dig into his skull.

“What do you really want, Wade Wilson?” Cassandra asks from behind him as she starts to sink her fingers into his head, phasing through his mask and skin.

“Uh, your fingers are inside me, but not in a good way.” He groans as she starts to dive in deeper, watching as his memories ticked by.

“You’re so lost Mr. Wilson, let me help you.” She cooes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the ground where she had left you, you start to sink even deeper into your head as an unfamiliar pull in your stomach makes you roll at the new sensation.

I got you.

I got you.

It keeps repeating over and over again like a mantra as your skin begins to prickle up in a cold sweat. You were laid out in a desert somewhere so the warmth was unavoidable but the heat you were starting to feel different it started from a coil in the pit of your belly and grew more and more unbearable as it spread. It was all over you, on your skin and even inside you and the thumping sound? God the thumping sound was getting louder and louder and so much more concentrated, it felt like your ears were about to bleed. It was all too much at once, it had to stop, you had to make it stop, you thought as you writhed on the ground.

You could feel your nails and teeth as if they were growing, becoming longer, more razor sharp and you could smell everything. There was the smell of the dirt and the earth beneath you followed by the smell of sweat and the stink of something sour. Then you caught a whiff of something sickly almost cancerous, it made your gut twist but it was vaguely familiar to you, then there was something musky and comforting followed by something more floral with just a hint of blood that made your skin crawl at the smell of it.

You could hear everything too. Clambering to cover your ears with your hands, you tried to shield out the thumping sounds that were driving you absolutely crazy, only they weren’t just random thumps anymore, some were more calm while others were more rapid, almost like the heartbeat of someone scared, it was giving you a migraine.

It was driving you to your wits end, you needed someone, anyone to make it stop. Just as it all seemed to be too much to bear there was an eerie calm that washed over you for just a moment before it all came crashing down all around you as you felt someone’s grimy hand brush up against your upper arm.

Snapping your eyes open you rose to your feet, grabbing at the first person you saw, the one grabbing your arm, holding him by his neck as you stood. The tighter you held him the man by his throat the weaker his sounds got for your sensitive ears, there was a resounding gurgle as your claws dug in sinking into his trachea before it all became quiet again. It was peaceful only for a second.

Another hand reached out, snatching you up by your hair, he screams something unintelligible in your face, probably about killing his friend, but you don’t hear him, you don’t care to as you reach up to pull him closer, sinking your teeth into his exposed neck and ripping out a chunk as you pull away. The foul taste of his blood fills your mouth making your stomach lurch.

Bullets start flying now as he hits the ground grasping at his bleeding throat. Spitting out the disgusting chuck of flesh that assaulted your taste buds you lunge at the next person closest to you, one of the ones who was firing. Bullets pierced through you but the wounds healed up almost instantly as you tore through the army of mutant goons, some tried to run and fight back but that only made you angry, more bloodthirsty as you worked your way through them.

Blood flowed through your clawed hands as you clumsily hacked and slashed your way through the throngs of men firing at you. Soon the bullets didn’t even penetrate your skin as they defected off of you leaving only minor bumps in their wake. Just as some of the men started to surround you trying their best to hold you down with whatever restraints they could find you let out an ear piercing shriek. Everyone around you clutched their hands to their ears, trying to stop the sound from bursting their ear drums, even the man dressed in all red you had smelled earlier was bent over in pain. Everyone except that bald chick, who simply watched you, eyes blown wide with excitement and awe as she smiled at you.

You made quick work of the goons that were left, the others having made their escape as you slaughtered their teammates. Slowly you stood from the body you had just dropped, blood dripped from your clawed hands as you turned your attention towards the only other person standing before you besides the red man who looked over you in shock and absolute horror. Awww dCassandra. Your foggy brain had told you, that's what she was called. You vaguely recognized her, remembered the pain she put you through, the fear. She had to pay.

Running at her on all fours you thrust your body into the air, lunging for her throat before you're caught and stopped mid-air by an invisible force.

“My aren’t you the little animal.”

You crawl and snarl as you foam at the mouth struggling at the invisible force holding you back from ripping her apart like you did all the others. Suddenly your body is situated up right, still floating above Cassandra’s head as she looks you over with another one of those sickeningly sweet smiles of hers.

“As much as I love your enthusiasm darling, I think we need to teach this rabid dog a little more about control, don’t you?”

With a twist of her wrist you feel a pressure, first it was slight then it intensified tenfold. It felt like an elephant had sat right on your chest as the force continued to build and build until you heard a snap. At first you didn’t know what it was, until you’re hit with a wall of pain that you realized as you cried out, she had broken your ribs. The pain was almost too much to comprehend as it snapped something back awake inside of you. Your teeth and nails start to turn back to their normal length as the thumping you were hearing earlier begins to dull, something shines inside of her eyes as she watches your body return to normal.

“Now that is interesting.” Cassandra all but giggles as she observes you.

Just as she opens her mouth to speak again, six adamantium blades shoot through her chest as the Wolverine, finally free from his dirt prison, stabs Cassandra from behind, forcing her to drop you from her hold.

She looks down in shock for a minute as blood trickles down her chin before she smiles back at the Wolverine, tapping her chest lightly forcing his claws to retract against his will with a snakt.

With a flick of her wrist she sends the Wolverine flying backwards again, this time not as far as she turns her attention back to you, who was slowly and cautiously being approached by Wade. A crack of thunder and a spark of lighting catches her attention as she looks up into the distance and grins at the approach of Alioth.

“Well, this has been fun, but the big guy needs to eat, and the rent is due.” She says turning on her heel as she begins to retreat further into her compound wiping the blood from her bottom lip, “By the way, you’re the rent.”

From the ground you shook your head, trying to free yourself from the brain fog as you tried to piece together what just happened. First you were tied up to Johnny then his skin evaporated and the next thing you knew Cassandra was finger fucking your brain in front of everyone and then….nothing.

Why did your body hurt so much and what the actual fuck had just happened to you?

Just as you were about to ask aloud what was going on, Wade’s red boots were in your line of vision as he scooped you up to your feet, tucking you up under his arm as he dragged you away from the death cloud that was steadily approaching the compound.

“Up we go little Miss Murder!” He says as you pick up the pace.

In front of you you spot the Wolverine as he kicks and claws at the scrapped sentinel leg that had knocked you unconscious earlier, forcing it to start up with a loud rumble.

“You guys coming or what?!” He yells over the roar of the boot’s rocket as it starts to lift him into the air, he holds out a hand for you to take but Wade beats you to it as he snatches it up, sandwiching you between him and the Wolverine as the leg takes off into the air.

[luckymingi]

Accidentally Yours

Paring: Mingi x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Mingi finally face the question that could change everything between them.

Warnings: Fluff,Mutual pining,Miscommunication,Light teasing and playful argument

The room was quiet, filled with the soft glow of city lights seeping through the curtains. Y/N lay sprawled across Mingi’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, each steady thump a gentle reminder of how safe she felt with him. One of his arms was wrapped loosely around her shoulders, while his other hand was tangled in her hair, idly twisting and untwisting strands between his fingers. It was a simple gesture, but it made her heart flutter every time.

They’d had moments like this often—late nights spent together, cozy and close, with a familiarity that felt so natural. And yet, every time, a lingering question sat unspoken between them, one she had been avoiding for months. Were they just friends? Or was this something more?

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the question bubbling up, but she hesitated, unsure of what his answer would be. She didn’t want to ruin what they had, but she couldn’t keep ignoring it either. Finally, after a long silence, she took a deep breath and spoke up.

“Mingi?” she murmured, looking up at him.

“Hmm?” he responded, glancing down, his hand still gently playing with her hair.

“What… are we?” Her words hung in the air, and she immediately felt the tension rise. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious we’re more than just friends, but we’re not exactly… dating, either.” She looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

To her surprise, Mingi’s face twisted in confusion, and he laughed—a low, disbelieving sound that made her cheeks warm. “What do you mean we’re not dating?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as if she’d just told him the sky was green.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Wait… you thought we were dating?”

He gave her an amused look, trying not to smile too widely. “Um, yeah? I mean, we spend all our time together, I take you on dates… I play with your hair while you fall asleep on me, like right now.” His hand in her hair stilled, and he let out a soft chuckle. “What did you think this was?”

Y/N pushed herself up slightly, a bit flustered but unable to help the laugh that escaped her. “Mingi, just because we spend time together and you play with my hair doesn’t automatically mean we’re dating!”

Mingi’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a teasing glint. “Okay, so if that doesn’t mean we’re dating, then what would dating even look like to you?”

She thought about it, suddenly realizing how many “dating” things they already did together. “I mean… we’d go out on dates, and you’d, you know, hold my hand and… and maybe call me your girlfriend.” She was barely able to get the words out before she felt herself blushing.

Mingi laughed, the sound warm and light. “Y/N, I’ve been introducing you as my girlfriend for months! I thought you knew.” He shook his head, still grinning. “How long have we been in this… friendship of yours?”

Y/N tried to think back, a laugh bubbling up. “Months, I guess?” she said, both of them laughing at how ridiculous it was. “I mean, I didn’t know I was your girlfriend! You never actually asked.”

“Oh, so you need me to officially ask, huh?” he teased, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright then.”

He looked at her, his face softening as he took her hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm. “Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

She bit her lip, her heart thudding as a smile spread across her face. “Yes, Mingi,” she whispered. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He grinned, looking almost triumphant, and without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and slow at first, sweet and full of unspoken promises, before deepening, finally allowing all the tension and emotion between them to spill over.

When they pulled away, Mingi leaned his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, smiles tugging at their lips. “See?” he murmured, laughing softly. “We’ve been dating this whole time. You just needed me to make it official.”

Y/N laughed, resting her head back on his chest, feeling happier and more at ease than she ever had. “Well, now we both know.”

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 30 - Hair Pulling

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 1.3K

TWs: Reader calls Elvis daddy, praise kink, pussy inspection, oral (f receiving), possessive kink, face fucking, hair pulling, begging.

Kinktober masterlist

You’re curled up in Elvis’ lap as he reads from one of his spiritual books, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. You feel the vibrations of his low, rumbling voice as your head rests on his chest. The powdery smell of his cologne surrounding you, warmth radiating off his body. You’re so content right now. There’s nothing you love more than being in his arms listening to him talk. Whether he’s reading out loud, joining in with one of his favourite movies, or even just talking to the guys late at night. You don’t care what he’s saying, you just like the sound and the feeling. One of his big, strong hands rubs your back gently whilst the other one grips the book. He looks down at you occasionally to make sure you haven’t fallen asleep, but you’re always looking back with rapt attention. He moves on to the next page. 

“For I am your real teacher, the only real one you will ever know, and the only master,” he declares, maybe a little too melodramatically. 

You can’t help giggling at the word ‘master’. You’re not trying to be childish, after all you are almost thirty. It’s just you’ve been sitting in his lap for a while and as much as you like hearing his voice you do put on that fascinated facial expression sometimes. 

Elvis arches an eyebrow and looks at you over his glasses. “What’re you giggling at, little girl?” Pursing his lips a little. 

The serious delivery of the question sets you off laughing properly, and then you’re shaking with mirth. “M-m-m-master,” you finally manage, before replacing your head on his chest and laughing so much that tears come to your eyes. 

Elvis shakes his head like a long-suffering teacher and flips the book closed. He’s never sure how much you’re actually interested in the spiritual texts. You always look like you’re paying attention, but you avoid nearly every conversation he tries to have with you about them. He’s a little tired of reading tonight himself, though, and you look so pretty there in his arms, giggling away to yourself. He gets an idea. 

“I am your real teacher though,” he says, raising one eyebrow again. 

“Oh really?” You’re struggling to keep a straight face. 

“Mmmm. Yes. And this teacher needs to inspect you. Make sure you’re paying attention to everything I’ve been telling you.”

You feel your stomach turn and twist and that familiar tingling starts between your legs. 

“Yes…m-master…” you burst out laughing again. “I can’t call you that,” you tell him, holding on to one of his arms, when you finally manage to get your breath back. 

He picks you up easily, putting you down next to him on the bed. “Sir will do fine.” 

You’re laughing so much in response to that that you start kicking your feet. He lets out a low chuckle. “Okay, okay. Just call me Daddy. I know you like that.” 

You stop giggling when he says that and fixes you with the most sensual look you’ve seen in a long time. Letting your feet slide back down to where they belong, you look back at him. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

He slips your pyjama bottoms off and gently pushes your legs up and apart, so your feet are off the bed. 

“Time for your pussy inspection,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. 

He looks up at you through the reading glasses and you nearly cum there and then. 

Breathing hard, you watch as he looks between your legs with an almost forensic gaze. He’s staring so intently it’s making you blush. He very gently brushes a fingertip against you, noting that it comes back wet. 

“Very good,” he mutters.

You gulp. 

Running his finger around the edge of your pussy lips, he looks up at you again, licking his own lips deliberately. You let out an ill-disguised moan. He smirks. 

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.”

Watching your chest heave and listening to your unsteady breathing he smirks a little more, then gently blows on your clit, making you squeak. Then he drags his finger over it, feeling as it hardens. You wiggle, unable to stop yourself. He shakes his head. 

“Daddy’s not finished yet, baby. You need to stay nice and still for me. Then, if I think you’ve taken good enough care of my pussy, I might let you get what you want.”

You struggle not to groan when he calls it ‘my pussy’. You love it when he gets possessive. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

He smiles. “Alright. Let’s carry on, shall we?” 

You nod enthusiastically and he dips a finger into your pooling arousal again, swirling it around your clit until you cry out. Then he stops, abruptly. 

“That all seems to be in good working order.”

You’d laugh at how ridiculous he sounds if you weren’t so turned on. He leans in closer and uses his thumbs to press your lips apart, looking into your pretty little hole. The anticipation is killing you. His nose is so close to your clit it takes everything in you not to buck your hips at that exact moment. You let out a shaky breath as he pulls back. 

“Very good,” he mutters again. “One last thing.”

Without warning, he plunges one of his long, slender fingers right up inside you. 

“Oh, God.”

His mouth curls into a lazy smile. “Mmmm. Excellent. This tight little pussy’s made just for me, isn’t it baby?”

You nod eagerly and he pushes a second finger inside, curling them both so they hit that place inside you. You squeak again. 

He grins. “That was the last thing I needed to check, baby. You’ve been taking such good care of my pussy. You’re such a good girl.”

You moan softly, his fingers are still inside you and you desperately want them to move. 

“Ah, hold on.” He says, waving a finger from his other hand in the air. “One last thing.” His head ducks down and as he presses his tongue to your clit he says, “just need to check how you taste,” his words vibrating against you. 

The noise you let out is somewhere between a moan and a squeal as his mouth latches on to your clit and his fingers start to move inside you. Your back arches and you buck your hips into his face. He lets you roll your hips once or twice and then moves his head back quickly.

Crying out, you thrash your legs about desperately. 

“You taste real good, baby,” he declares, before diving back down into you again with renewed fervour. 

“Fuck!” 

You cry out, fingers knitting into his hair, holding his head where you want it as you start to grind against his face. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pulling his hair now, as your orgasm builds inside you. You’re getting so close but you’re not quite there. It’s like he knows how to keep you right on the edge, you’re tottering but you don’t fall, the pleasure feeling like it’s filling your body, making you crazy. 

“Please… oh God.” 

You’re begging now, begging to cum, your fingers tugging on his hair desperately. He grins against you, his tongue working overtime as he finger-fucks you, wanting to give you what you want. Loving you losing yourself like this. Bucking and writhing, you look down for a moment and the sight of him, buried in your pussy, still wearing his reading glasses, completely overwhelms you. It’s that image that pushes you over into oblivion, moaning and calling out his name over and over like a prayer. 

You finally let go of his head and sprawl back on the bed, huffing and sighing as he delivers a few more kitten licks to your swollen clit and then slowly sits up. He waits until you properly come to, before looking down at you with that teacherish expression again. 

“Baby, I think you’ve ruined my glasses.”

***

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[starbluekindo]

work song

warning: victoria neuman x afab!reader, angst with a happy ending, blood, victoria using her powers unconsciously, reader is vicky's wife <3

a/n: i miss her so from now on this is real.

THE DAYS since victoria’s death had been a blur. you followed the basic steps of your routine because there was no other choice. zoe needed you, and the world around you didn’t stop to mourn a dead vice president, let alone someone who had lost more than a title.

mornings were the hardest. the silence at home seemed louder now, filling every corner as a constant reminder of her absence. zoe, despite being a resilient child, felt it too. her bright eyes were dimmer, and she asked questions you didn’t know how to answer.

“is she in heaven?” zoe asked one night, her voice low as you tucked her into bed.

you hesitated. the truth was, you didn’t know how to console zoe because you couldn’t console yourself.

“she’s in a place where there’s no pain,” was all you managed to say, even though your voice sounded broken.

after zoe fell asleep, you went downstairs. the house felt different now. without victoria, it was as if the space had lost its identity. you looked at the desk where she used to work late into the night, the papers still piled up as if she would return at any moment to finish them.

but she wouldn’t return.

the weight of that seemed crushing. you sank onto the couch, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold. your eyes wandered to the watch you had given victoria, still resting in the small tray where she always left it when she came home. the metal seemed cold and distant now, a reminder of something you could no longer touch.

the days passed, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of incompleteness. people came to offer condolences, but their words felt empty, like echoes in an endless tunnel. they talked about how extraordinary victoria had been as a leader, a force to be reckoned with. but no one spoke about how she was at home — the way she gave that small side smile when she tried to hide her worries, how she always checked if zoe had done her homework, or how she held your hand at the dinner table when she thought no one was looking.

no one knew who she really was.

in the quietest nights, after zoe had gone to bed and you were left alone with your thoughts, you allowed the pain to overflow. you sat on the living room floor, staring at the shadows on the wall, wondering how the world could keep moving when yours had stopped.

and yet, something inside you resisted. it was what victoria would have done. she had always been stronger than you — more practical, more determined. you knew that if she could speak to you now, she would tell you to take care of zoe, to get up and move forward.

but in the moments when the pain felt unbearable, you whispered into the void, as if she could hear you:

“i’d give anything to have you back.”

and then you stayed there, waiting for the pain to lessen, even though you knew it would never completely go away.

THE DARKNESS felt infinite, but victoria was aware of every second. not in a human way, with clear thoughts or organized emotions, but in a primal, instinctive manner, as if her blood was screaming for something. something beyond death.

then came the pain.

it was a deep, visceral pull, as if the universe itself was dragging her back. the blood, which she had always controlled with almost surgical precision, seemed to have taken on a will of its own. she knew her powers, what she could do — explode heads, hear the subtle hum of people’s circulatory systems, even manipulate small flows within herself. but this? this defied everything she knew to be possible, defied the very order of nature.

it was grotesque. the blood, transformed into a thick, vibrant sludge, moved like tendrils within her body, wrapping around dead organs, dragging them back into place. collapsed lungs reinflated, her heart, once silent, began to beat again, the blood rearranging itself to form new connections where old ones had broken. the process seemed endless — ribs realigning with echoing cracks through the compacted earth.

victoria tried to scream, but there was no air yet. the sensation was suffocating, an unending cycle of pain and creation. for a moment, she thought it would be better if everything stopped, but then the image of zoe flashed through her mind like a spark. and then, you.

the blood responded to that, as if it shared her desire. the process accelerated, stitching muscles and connecting bones. finally, air entered her lungs with a rough, desperate sound. she gasped, coughing up dirt and clotted blood, her eyes opening with a dull glow.

everything was dark. she still felt the pressure of the earth around her, heavy and suffocating, but her body, now whole, responded.

with trembling fingers, she began clawing at the soil, each movement a monumental effort. the pain didn’t disappear; it just shifted, now a memory imprinted in her renewed flesh.

when she finally emerged, the faint moonlight felt blindingly bright. she blinked, trying to adjust her eyes, the smell of the night flooding her senses. and then she vomited, pulling chunks of her old organs from her throat with her own hands. the putrid smell made her dizzy.

victoria collapsed to her knees, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, but one thing was clear. she closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her: the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of a streetlamp. and then, the sound she needed: your blood. you were nearby, faint but traceable. she could feel the rhythmic pulse flowing, like a familiar melody pulling her to the surface.

she needed to go home.

victoria started walking, her steps unsteady but determined. the hunger inside her roared, but something stronger guided her, something beyond physical need. she needed you. she needed her family.

when she reached the front door, it was as if the pain, confusion, and despair were replaced by relief.

you were on the couch, holding a now-cold cup of tea, staring out the window without really seeing the outside. the weight of victoria’s absence was unbearable. zoe was asleep upstairs, but you knew you wouldn’t find the same peace. there was no peace without her.

then, a faint knock at the door broke the silence.

your heart stopped for a moment before racing. you let the cup fall, forgetting the sound of breaking glass as you rushed to the entrance.

when you opened the door, victoria was there.

she looked like a specter. her skin was pale, her hair tangled and dirty with soil, her clothes torn. but it was her eyes that paralyzed you: confused, scared, but alive.

“victoria…” you whispered, unable to process what you were seeing.

she tried to speak, but her vocal cords failed, frustrating her. you noticed her distress, and her effort resulted in a raspy whisper:

“i... i came back.”

you pulled her inside before she could collapse, your hands holding her face, dirty and cold. her heartbeat thudded weakly under your fingers but was there.

“how?” you asked, tears already streaming down your face.

she shook her head, her eyes filling with tears too. “i don’t know... i just knew... i had to come back. for you. for zoe.”

her words were enough to shatter any doubts you might have had.

“you’re here,” you whispered.

victoria rested her forehead against yours, her shoulders trembling under your hands as everything finally began to make sense. she didn’t know how she had returned, but she knew why. it was for you and zoe. no force in the world, not even death, could keep her away from you.

[confessioncassette]

If you want to, could you make some relationship headcanons for Kite please? There's barely any Kite content and I am starving— There doesn't have to be a lot, any amount of Kite is to be appreciated

you don’t have to ask me twice to write anything about our precious kite! Hope you enjoy :)

Kite Relationship Headcanons

minors do not interact. 18+.

╰┈➛ sfw + nsfw under the cut

╰┈➛ tw : nsfw, some small yandere headcanons

╰┈➛ sfw :

• From the very beginning, Kite was always super gentle with you. And don’t ask me how this man just knows where ever you are at all times, it’s like he has a radar (no En intended) to know when you’re close.

• Kite is known to be very aloof and calculated, almost giving a stand-offish vibe, but in reality, he’s just… a loner. It was easy to get him to open up to you about the smaller things that didn’t involve emotions at first. But deep down, he really enjoys your company even if he doesn’t show it.

• His bluntness is really just how he is. It shocks you at first because he’s so… blunt. Tells it like it is, but you’ve come to really enjoy that. He has never lied and he’s grounded and secure in himself.

• Fiercely loyal. This man does not have a wandering eye. The only thing he truly cares about is you.

• Since he’s so tall, he has a tendency to rest the palm of his hand over your head when standing next to you.

• Always speaks to you in a softer, velvety tone of voice.

• He actually enjoys when you tag along with him on missions. Don’t get me wrong - He would never outrightly tell you that, because he incredibly stubborn, but after a little begging from you he’ll make the exception to bring you along.

• But that always came with one condition - that you didn’t interfere and stay far away from trouble.

• This man is incredibly protective over you. If I were to give him a yandere headcanon, he would definitely be the silent obsessive type. He’s completely head over heels for you and that’s why he’d watch you like a hawk, mainly to keep others away from you. Like, seriously, you could never do anything wrong in his eyes.

• When he’s ticked off or annoyed, his jaw flexes.

• Avid book reader! Loves to have you lay over his chest while you mindlessly scroll through your phone as he silently reads.

• He’s not the best sleeper and he actually has trouble staying asleep throughout the night. So every morning he wakes up before you and brews you a cup of coffee when he knows you’ll be awake soon. He wouldn’t dare wake you up prematurely.

• Would absolutely put you and your comfort first no matter what. Hungry? He’ll cook. Cold? Have his sweater. Bored? Let’s go for a walk. Kite would drop what he’s doing just to entertain / take care of you.

• He would give you shit for not dressing properly for the weather. If it’s cold, he’ll basically force you to wear more layers and a hat to cover your ears.

• He’d be your very own personal Google engine lmao. Any questions you have, this smart mother fucker has the answer to. And if you try to prove him wrong by pulling out your phone to google it yourself - he always ends up right.

• He doesn’t use his phone much, but his photo album is all candid pictures of you. Pictures of you looking at the sky, blurry ones of you smiling and dancing, cooking a meal, sleeping, holding up a cute little creature you guys discovered together.

• Let’s you brush his hair or style it without a single complaint.

• As stated above, Kite is a silent observer and unfortunately for him, you’re a hot commodity. It’s not surprising whenever you guys go out (much to his dislike - he likes to drink, but he prefers a speakeasy or a quiet bar) you get hit on at the bar. Mainly because he sits quietly by you, sipping on rum and enjoying your company that no guy would ever think that you’re with him.

• Literally the king of death glares. Once that guy approaches you, he doesn’t react because, well, he’s classy. But the whole time he’ll be brooding on the inside, glaring at whatever low life is talking to you. At some point, he’ll tell them to piss off.

• This may just be me, but he’d totally be into grunge, alternative music.

• Honestly, if we’re talking normal Kite, like canon Kite, he would be the perfect partner. Caring, sensual, thoughtful and empathetic. Would recommend.

╰┈➛ nsfw :

• Don’t get me wrong, Kite’s had experience - just not much of it. He’s travelled the world, and mostly alone at that, don’t make mistake that he hasn’t had his fair share of one-night stands just to give himself some type of release.

• But with you, oh god, with you - sex is on a whole different level.

• He can’t help getting chubbed up watching you do the most mundane, innocent things. Bending over to grab something, brushing your teeth, watching you arch your back when stretching… but mostly he loves the way you look first thing in the morning.

• Kite is 1000% a pleasure dom with a raging breeding kink without a doubt in my mind.

• You could 100000% be a pillow princess with him, he loves it, because he’s only worried about making you feel sooo good.

• The first time with you had him feral.

• “I don’t know if I can hold myself back”

• You tell him you can handle it, and that was all he needed to devour you.

• He bites, hard. Every inch of your flesh he’ll drag his teeth over your body. He loves to squeeze your skin until it bruises as he sheaths himself inside you.

• He’ll start off slow. Rolling his hips deep into your cunt with you feeling every inch of him. Without fail, he literally takes your breath away with his thickness.

• Kite is a grunter, a growler if you must. He’ll bite and suck on your bottom lip as he fucks you slow, growling into your mouth.

• He’ll hold your body like a doll, firmly holding you still as he controls your movements. Though he’s careful not to break you, you’re his prized possession after all. He’ll hold the bottom of your neck to keep your head close to him in the crook of his neck as he pounds into you.

• Loves missionary - and loves seeing all the faces you make with every thrust he gives. His favorite position is (when you’re nice and pliant for him after he finger fucked you into oblivion) when he can fold your body, knees to chest with legs over his shoulder so he can fuck you deeep

• “So fucking beautiful”

• Praise. Always gives praise more than dirty talk in bed. He can’t fathom how beautiful you are under him. When your eyes roll back, when you meet his hips, when you open your mouth to give him your sweet moans.

• Strong, powerful thrusts when he’s about to cum. He’ll squeeze your ass, or have a firm grip on some part of your body or even hair to hold you still to fill you with his cum.

• He would lift your face up to him so he can see the tears of pleasure pooling at the corners of your eyes

• “I’m going to fill you so deep, sweet girl, you ready for it?”

• Prefers to cum deep inside you, always. He loves filing you to the brim and seeing how your face scrunches at the feeling of being so full.

• Will absolutely keep himself inside you once he’s done, just to keep you plugged of his cum. You don’t get mad when you feel him get hard after a minute or two and slowly humps into you again

[sickficideas]

gotta hear me out || sick Akutagawa w/ caretaker Atsushi - chapter 3 of ??

ao3! 4.8/15k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2024, day 30: past prompt (2022, day 27: sleepless night)

Atsushi can't ignore the lump in his throat. He almost wonders if he's nauseous himself now, but he's pretty certain it's just some weird, anxious feeling that he can't push down.

Is it because he's worried about Akutagawa? Is it the lingering concerns over his lung illness, or a worry that he'll need to be hospitalized? He doesn't know. Maybe it's everything.

He manages to get Akutagawa back to bed after a half hour or so of him laying on the bathroom floor, almost half asleep. He didn't say a word, didn't complain of the taste or tell Atsushi to leave. Atsushi wonders if he's avoiding speaking to quell the nausea, although he's not sure that would work in this situation.

Atsushi finally manages to get a temperature on him, too. He doesn't make him move, he just slides the thermometer under his tongue with little to no reaction from Akutagawa, and it beeps after a few seconds. A hundred and one point one. Not as bad as he was thinking.

“Still nauseous?” Atsushi asks him as he sits down on the bed, the opposite side from where Akutagawa is laying. He's still staring at the ceiling, miraculously still awake despite how exhausted he appears to be.

“It's just - cramping, right now,” he groans quietly, shifting slightly in his discomfort, eyes screwing shut as the cramps roll through his stomach. He imagines that's because there's nothing left in there for him to throw up, and his stomach is finding other ways to retaliate, but he's hoping the medication will kick in sooner rather than later.

The thunder is getting worse.

Atsushi sees Akutagawa flinch at the sound of it again, and this time he's sure it's a result of the thunder. He's never seen him react at all to loud noises, so this seems out of character for him, but maybe it's just because he's too exhausted to fight it.

Atsushi lays down on the other side of Akutagawa’s bed, with no complaints from the latter. He doesn't want to leave him yet, not until he falls asleep, and he's sure that his nausea is better. At least he knows his fever isn't dangerously high, despite how warm his skin feels and how pink his cheeks are.

He's quiet for a while, trying to ignore the rain, the thunder. He's sure it's not nearly as loud for Akutagawa as it is for him, and Atsushi can usually tune it out, but the silence that he's faced with between the two of them forces him to face the noise.

“Are you scared of thunder?” Atsushi asks him. It slips out when he sees him shiver again. He's not really sure if that's something he should ask out loud, but he stands by it in the end. It's just an innocent question.

“Don't ridicule me,” Akutagawa mumbles quietly, not raising his voice above a whisper, even in the slightest.

“I'm not,” Atsushi tells him, “I am too.”

Akutagawa turns his head just a little to look at him, with an expression Atsushi can't quite place. It's almost like he wants to say something back. Something of understanding, something meaningful maybe, but he turns his head away too quickly for Atsushi to figure him out.

“Of course you are. You're a coward,” Akutagawa huffs out, almost under his breath.

“Always gotta find a way to put it back on me, huh?” Atsushi says to himself, very aware Akutagawa can certainly hear him. “You know you're calling yourself a coward too, then.”

He doesn't have anything to say about that. Atsushi doesn't know if he was aware of that already or not.

They're quiet again, and it's raining a little less, enough that Atsushi can hear Akutagawa’s breathing. It's never sounded good or normal to him, but now it's uneven, a sign he's still in pain. Every now and the he holds his breath, presumably to try to will away the pain from his stomach cramping, but he's not tensing up as much anymore. That's good.

“The cell they kept me in sometimes had this…gated window at the top,” Atsushi starts, sharing the memory with Akutagawa as it comes back to him. Akutagawa doesn't move his head. “I hated thunder, and…it was so clear there when it stormed. It echoed. And it rained in through the window. I had to post myself up in a corner so that I wouldn't get soaked, but…that never lasted long.”

Akutagawa doesn't say anything at first, but Atsushi can tell he's listening. He keeps his gaze forward and at the ceiling.

“That was a punishment,” Akutagawa says, realizing it without Atsushi saying it out loud.

“I think so. Looking back on it,” Atsushi says quietly.

“You're not afraid,” Akutagawa tells him. “It's just the association.”

“Yeah…yeah, maybe you're right,” Atsushi agrees with a quiet sigh. He hadn't thought about it that way before.

“Maybe we are the same, then.”

Atsushi's surprised to hear him say that.

Their conversation seems to end there. Atsushi was hoping he'd be able to get Akutagawa to open up some, but in the end, all he learned was that Akutagawa's fear is just a negative association too. He wonders from what, or where, when - Akutagawa surely wouldn't tell him, but maybe one day, one conversation, they'll get there.

Akutagawa turns over on his side after a while with a quiet, pained groan. He's been okay for the past half hour, at least. Atsushi doesn't think his nausea has gone away completely, but it's definitely not as bad right now.

“Do you think you feel okay?” Atsushi asks, sitting up from where he was in the bed as Akutagawa pulls to covers over his shoulder.

“I'll be fine,” Akutagawa insists. That's no answer to how he's feeling right now, and really, it means nothing at all - but at least his fever isn't terrible, and he's not actively in pain from his stomach. Atsushi hopes this is all a good sign. Maybe he's getting better, and he can actually feel good.

“I'll be in your living room, then,” Atsushi tells him, sliding off of the bed. Akutagawa doesn't reply or make any indication that he's heard him, but Atsushi decides he'll keep the bedroom door cracked open, just in case he gets sick again.

Atsushi lays down on the couch and stares at the ceiling.

There's a particularly loud crash of thunder then and there and he flinches so hard that he almost falls off. He groans to himself, taking a pillow and using it to cover his ears. He won't be able to sleep like this. He wonders if Akutagawa will be able to.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He realizes he hasn't checked in with Dazai yet, and that's probably him now. This is typically the time of night where he gets bored and starts bothering everyone who's still awake.

He's surprised to see that Dazai's followed up, really, but the wording of his question embarrasses him. His cheeks heat up, realizing he's stayed the night at Akutagawa’s place and not told anyone at the Agency. And of course, Dazai is the only one who knows.

Atsushi's holding his breath, sending those texts. He's always going to be too anxious about getting in trouble, even though Dazai's never been the type to reprimand him over things.

Atsushi sighs. Good on Dazai for taking care of that for him. Kyoka worries about him a lot, he would hate to have disappeared on her without a word. He's sure Dazai fed her some excuse for Atsushi's absence, but he's not sure Kyoka would believe it.

Atsushi sighs to himself. Where does he even begin?

Dazai's suspicions were confirmed, Akutagawa is in fact, not well - he's very sick, actually. He tries to line up everything in his head. Fever, but not horribly high. Headache. Sensitivity to light and sound. Vomiting, of course, and unbearable nausea that makes him gag and retch regardless of how little is left in his stomach. Pretty bad stomach pain. He's coughing, too, but it's hard to say if that's worse or the same he normally deals with from his illness, but it definitely doesn't sound good. He fainted, too, and Atsushi has no idea why exactly, but there's several factors contributing to that. He hasn't eaten in three days, so it's been at least that long since he got sick.

It's probably a stomach flu. He needs IV fluids for sure. Some sort of injectable medication for his nausea would help him be able to eat something. He needs a doctor. Atsushi has reached the end of the line for what he can do here, but Akutagawa is a wanted criminal. He can't take him anywhere without him being arrested.

And he wonders if he should even care about that. Akutagawa is a criminal. He’s killed people. Just because he hasn’t since he made his promise doesn’t mean he’s absolved from that.

But for some reason, Atsushi doesn’t even consider it an option.

He's sure Dazai would know what do to, but should he involve him?

He decides to sneak into a little coat closet right at the front door of Akutagawa’s place, so that his voice won’t wake him, and calls Dazai before waiting for a reply. He couches down in the curner of the tiny closet, not much bigger than the closet he sleeps in, the coats hanging above draping over him. He imagines Akutagawa would find this sight ridiculous.

It rings a few times, and for a moment he worries Dazai won’t pick up, but he seems to change his mind at the last second.

“Atsushiii. Bad time. I'm super busy,” Dazai tells him with a little sigh.

Atsushi considers apologizing, except, it’s three in the morning. “What would you even be busy with?”

“I'm watching American reality TV. It's very important,” Dazai insists. He’s either teasing him or lightening the mood, sure, but Atsushi is too stressed about this situation to bite.

“What should I do if it gets worse?” Atsushi asks him, deciding to ignore the comment altogether. Dazai knows the mafia better than anyone. He's sure he could point him in the right direction as far as treatment goes, or at least get someone else in the picture here. Atsushi can only do so much.

“You said he's got a stomach flu? Throwing up?” Dazai asks.

“Yeah, but…it's a lot of things. He’s in a lot of pain, I think. And he passed out earlier. And he's not just throwing up either, he can't keep anything down. He won't try any medicine. Or water,” Atsushi sighs to himself, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his voice quiet, “and he's got this deep wound on his shoulder too. Definitely infected.”

Dazai just sighs, pausing before he continues their conversion. “It's never just one thing with him. And his sister isn't home?”

“No, he said she's been gone for a while working,” Atsushi says. Atsushi has only met her one time. He doesn’t have any idea of how close they are, he just knows they live together.

“The Port Mafia has an infirmary he could go to,” Dazai says, sounding exasperated this time, “and he knows that. I'd say take him, but he won't let you do that and you can't enter the building anyway. You might be better off just dropping him at an extraction point.”

Atsushi bites his lip. “I don’t…I don’t think I can do that, Dazai.”

Dazai’s quiet for a second. “I’ll see what I can do. Just give me some time to figure it out, there’s not a lot of people I can call at three in the morning.”

“Okay…yeah, that makes sense,” Atsushi says, pulling his knees into his chest, hoping that something can get figured out sooner rather than later.

“I'm gonna get back to my very important thing now,” Dazai announces. “I'll let you know if anyone bites.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he says, and he hears Dazai start a goodbye, but Atsushi can't get Akutagawa’s earlier words out of his head. His claims that Dazai doesn't care about him, beyond his ability.

Is that true?

“Dazai?” he starts, just before Dazai hangs up, he thinks, blurting it out without thinking it through.

“Yes?” Dazai replies curiously.

Atsushi isn't even sure how he would word the question. Even if he was, he couldn't guarantee any honesty on Dazai's part. Dazai is always so cryptic and mysterious with his wording, intentionally or not, it's doubtful Atsushi would get a straight answer out of him, even if he would tell the truth.

Why does he want to know? Is it just to dispel his own discomfort about the idea that Dazai only views Akutagawa as a tool?

Atsushi has never felt that Dazai feels that way towards himself, so it's jarring to hear that from another person, but Dazai has never given him any reason to believe the thinks any differently of Akutagawa than what he described.

He bites his lip.

“Nothing,” he says, deciding that in the end, it isn't worth it. He doesn't know a thing about their relationship, really, beyond their connection in the Port Mafia.

He doesn't want it to stay a mystery, but it's not his place to pry.

“Night night, Atsushi,” he tells him.

“Good night,” Atsushi says back, defeated, and the line goes dead.

So now, he's sitting by himself in Akutagawa’s coat closet, stuck with his own over-complicated thoughts about all of this. He’s not sure how to feel, what to think, but he realizes in the end, this is between Dazai and Akutagawa. Atsushi has barely known either of them for a few months, whereas the two of them have much more history, things Atsushi doesn’t even know the first thing about.

He isn’t sure how much time passes at first. He’s just sat in the corner of the closet, knees at his chest for a while, trying to sort through all the information in his head, before he decides it’s giving him a headache to keep thinking about it, especially with the minimal sleep he’s had.

All of the thoughts quickly dissolve when he hears sounds he doesn’t recognize coming from Akutagawa’s room.

He scrambles to get out of the closet and run towards the bedroom, because whatever it is, it’s not good. It sounds like an altercation, which he feels like is nearly impossible. He would have heard if someone got inside.

There’s stab marks in the door, Atsushi realizes, because he reaches forward to turn the doorhandle. His heart drops into his stomach, but the answer comes quickly to him when he finds himself dodging shards of fabric slicing through the door.

He’s using Rashomon, but Atsushi doesn’t have any idea why he would be doing that. Maybe he realizes that Atsushi is at the door and he’s trying to get him to stay out, but Atsushi noticed the stab marks before he got there.

Atsushi manages to open the door without getting stabbed, thankfully.

Akutagawa is barely propped up over the side of the bed, retching into the bin on the floor, choking up thin stream of vomit that his stomach seems to be forcing up regardless of whether or not there's anything left. Atsushi feels horrible. He didn't seem to be this nauseous before he forced him to eat, and now he must feel a hundred times worse than before. The medication he took only helped him long enough to fall asleep, which is better than nothing, but now he’s cearly worse.

Atsushi just crawls into his bed next to him and rubs his back, because it's all he can do other than feel guilty. He doesn’t see any sign that he’ll attack him, at least not right now. Akutagawa gags a few times over the bin, not able to bring up much more than spit, but his stomach seems to be trying so hard to make him sick that he gags anyway. A little burp he manages brings a wad of spit and bile with it.

He groans quietly through his stomach rolling through one painful cramp after another. He imagines it hurts a lot more now with his stomach being so empty.

Atsushi wonders if he's not completely conscious right now, because he hasn’t reacted to his presence at all.

“Akutagawa, are you -”

Atsushi feels the fabric of Akutagawa’s sweater wrap around his throat, and another pierce through his shoulder.

It happens too quickly for him to react properly. He screams out from the pain and all he can do is slow down how quickly he's choking him by attempting to pull back the fabric with his transformed tiger arms.

“Akutagawa, it's - let…go - !” he manages to choke out. He doesn't understand at all where this is coming from. He's well aware Akutagawa doesn't want him here, but he's literally trying to kill him right now. Atsushi can't breathe.

In a last-ditch effort, Atsushi throws himself forward, arms stretched out either the intention of throwing Akutagawa off of the bed, and it works. He loses his balance and his focus, the fabric coming loose, and Atsushi nearly chokes when he can finally breathe again.

It's a really strange use of his ability. He thinks if he wanted to knock Atsushi out, he would throw him against the wall, stab him somewhere vital, and not slowly choke him out like he was just doing. It makes him think it wasn’t intentional, or even, that it was amature.

“You can't do that,” Atsushi tells him desperately, scrambling to get off the the bed at his side, his tiger appearance still maintained. His shoulder screams from the pain of being stabbed. Atsushi’s never had a good pain tolerance, and he’s thankful to be able to heal himself with some time, but it’s still unbelievably painful.

Akuatagwa’s on his side, trying to get himself off of the ground, breathing heavy and coughing over the floor. His eyes are wild, he’s covered in sweat and he looks a thousand times worse than before.

“Are you - are you hurt?” Atsushi asks, concerned that he’s pulled a muscle of dislocated something because he’s stiff and can’t sit himself up properly, but the sound of Atsushi’s voice sets something off in him and the fabric from his sweater shoots over at Atsushi, followed by a look of terror on Akuatgawa’s face that he’s never, ever seen before. His wide, fearful eyes against his ghostly pale face are almost painful to look at.

This time, Atsushi was prepared to be attacked, and he pins Akutagawa back down to the ground, his tiger arms against both of Akuatgawa’s upper arms. Akutagawa barely tries to struggle against him, but he doesn’t need to, Rashomon simply starts to wrap itself around Atsushi’s neck again, his chest, and drilling another hole into the arm on the same side of his injured shoulder.

“Akutagawa - stop! It’s me, dammit - !” he cries out, trying desperately to ignore the pain he’s causing him through grit teeth, but he doesn’t loose the gaze he has locked with Akutagawa. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, but something’s not right with his eyes. Atsushi doesn’t think he’s all there right now.

“Let go,” Atsushi begs, trying not to choke with how his throat is being squeezed, “please, I’m just - I just want to help you.”

“Where…” he breathes out, sounding like he doesn’t have enough air in his lungs to speak properly but still trying to sound angry “where is she?”

“What?” Atsushi starts, feeling the grip around his neck loosen up just enough for him to be able to breathe and speak, but he stays fully aware that Akutagawa can simply decapitate him at any time. “Where is who?”

“My sister,” he manages, and any sign of anger had completely melted into fear. “She’s - she’s gone.”

What is he talking about?

Atsushi hasn't seen him with a cell phone this entire time, there's no way he suddenly received information that way. And what does he mean gone? She's not dead, is she? There’s no way.

“Hey - Akutagawa, hey,” Atsushi says, his tiger paws melting away and leaving just his hands gripping Akutagawa’s shoulders and keeping him pinned against the ground. He tries to steer clear of where he knows that injury is. He's shaking. Atsushi can't tell if it's because he feels cold or he's afraid, but his skin is burning, he can feel that much easier now with just his hands.. His fever's up. “What do you mean?”

“I can't…I don't know where she is,” he tells her, his voice quiet. “It's been days.”

“You said she was out working, remember?” Atsushi tells him, but that only leaves Akutagawa looking more confused. That doesn't make sense. Akutagawa is the one who told him that she was working. He didn't seem bothered at all by the fact that he hasn't heard from her, so Atsushi assumed it was a regular thing. Why is he so worried all of a sudden?

Akutagawa's eyes are wild. Atsushi can't process everything he's seeing. He's worried, confused, scared, Atsushi's never once seen him act like this, he's almost mirroring his emotions. But he can't when Akutagawa feels this way.

He looks like a child, almost.

“You know she can fend for herself, don't you? I've seen her hold her own. She's pretty good,” Atsushi tries to convince him. He’s only ever seen Gin a handful of times, but he knows she’s a very skilled assassin. He’s not sure where all of this worry suddenly came from. He doesn’t know much abou their relationship at all, but Akutagawa doesn’t seem like the type to worry this much about anyone.

The eyes he's staring into don't look like Akutagawa's eyes. They're brighter, but full of fear, confusion.

He thinks he might be reliving an old memory through a nightmare. Atsushi's done it before. Poor Kyoka is always subjected to it, but he never imagined that Akutagawa suffers from this sort of thing, too. He always sounds so put together when he's talking about his past, like he has it all figured out.

Atsushi realizes that he doesn't really know the first thing about what Akutagawa went through.

“Come on, I’m gonna help you back to your bed,” Atsushi tells him quietly.

The blood from the open wounds drips onto the floor and Akutagawa’s arm. He watches his eyes follow the drip up to where he’s currently causing the injury, and as soon as he notices it, he releases his ability completely. Atsushi doesn’t waste any time, he shifts himself to be able to scoop Akutagawa up off of the floor without much incident, to lay him back on his bed, but he sits himself up and scoots away from Atsushi, still not entirely convinced he’s safe, it seems.

Atsushi doesn’t know what to do. Kyoka usually comes out of her episodes of this fairly quickly, but she also isn’t prone to attempting to kill Atsushi. Akutagawa is.

“I think you had a bad dream,” Atsushi says to him, sitting at the edge of the bed, only a foot or so away from Akutagawa. He isn’t very happy about that, his eyes darting around at each muscle of Atsushi’s the moves like he’s fully expecting him to launch forward and attack him. He’s holding his breath.

Atsushi scoots himself onto the bed so that he’s sitting across from him, and the movement makes the injuries of his shoulder sting, healing slower than usual because of how little sleep he’s had. He hisses through his teeth, trying to not make it too obvious, but Akutagawa catches on.

Akutagawa’s eyes are fixed on the blood staining Atsushi’s shirt, and the red is slowing down as the wound slowly starts to close.

“It’s fine,” Atsushi tells him, laying a hand over the spot on his shoulder, which definitely feels worse, “I can heal myself, remember? I’m more worried about you.”

Akutagawa drops his gaze a little, his attention turning away from him, anything other than Atsushi. Atsushi doesn’t think he can leave him alone again. He’s worried about his safety. He doesn’t know if he thinks someone’s after him or what’s going on there, but he can’t be by himself right now.

He moves closer, trying to test the waters and make sure Akutagawa trusts him enough right now to be near him. He doesn’t know if he doesn’t recognize him, but he know he wouldn’t hurt Atsushi if he’s okay enough to trust him.

He’s only inches away from him, and Akutagawa’s eyes are wide with confusion, but he doesn’t back up, and doesn’t try attacking him again. It’s a good sign, and Atsushi can’t afford to lose that progress.

“Hey,” Atsushi murmurs, without thinking, laying his forehead against Akutagawa’s and gently placing a hand on his cheek.

To his shock, Akutagawa does not immediately decapitate him.

“You're safe, okay? And, I don't know where your sister is, but I know she's safe too.”

His eyes are shining with tears, hardly able to breathe properly with how he's worked himself up, confused but comforted by Atsushi's words. Atsushi’s really worried about how hot his skin is, and he’s fairly certain his fever going up had played a huge role in what’s just happened with him.

But they’re making progress, at least.

“You think you can lay back down?” Atsushi asks. He needs him to calm down, rest, not feel so worked up.

Akutagawa just nods, letting Atsushi guide him back down. He’s curled tight in on himself, still not a hundred percent trusting but better than nothing. Atsushi rests a hand against his cheek, hoping maybe it was just the angle that made his skin feel so hot, but it really is that way. He moves it to his forehead to double check, but it doesn’t change.

Atsushi needs to get something to help his fever go down. A washcloth or something, at least for some relief. He must feel miserable like this.

So he slides himself off of the bed, but he feels something pull on his sleeve before he manages to stand up. He thinks he’s caught it on something, but when he turns his head, he realizes it’s Akutagawa.

“Don't leave,” he begs, his grip on Atsushi's sleeve so weak it hardly holds. His eyes are bright from his fever against his red cheeks, and he doesn’t look so afraid anymore, but it’s still there. That look.

Atsushi feels like his heart is being squeezed. He's never, ever seen him like this before. He almost seems like a completely different person.

“I just wanna get you something cold for your forehead,” he tells him. “You're really hot.”

“Please…come back,” he breathes out quietly, his eyes falling shut, and his grip loosening completely.

“I will. Promise, okay?” Atsushi tells him, biting the inside of his lip.

He’s fast. He takes a bowl from his kitchen and fills it with cold water, with a washcloth or two to rotate on his forehead and keep him cool. He’s faced with the dozen stab marks in the door and decides he’ll need to address that later.

Atsushi leaves the washcloths and water on the nightstand, because Akutagawa is curled onto his side and shaking, not close enough for Atsushi to reach him.

Atsushi climbs into the bed beside him, a hand on his shoulder, not sure if he’s cold or if this is something else, but he doesn’t attack him, not even attempt. He's still breathing really hard, almost panicking but not quite.

“Hey,” Atsushi tells him, worried he’s about to be faced with a similar situation, but Akutagawa doesn’t move to hurt him, his arms just tighten around the pillow in his arms.

He coughs and dry heaves a few times, unproductively. Nothing comes up but the saliva that pools in his mouth. Atsushi moves to pick up the trash bin from the floor, expecting him to vomit again, but that seems to be the last of it right now, at least as far as productively vomiting goes.

Atsushi takes one of the cooled washcloths and wrings out the majority of the water. He lays a hand on his shoulder to try to get him to lay on his back, and surprisingly, he obeys. Atsushi’s gentle, careful, laying the washcloth over his forehead.

Akuatagwa shivers at first, but a few seconds in, he relaxes enough to close his eyes.

Atsushi thinks he’s got it under control, for now. Despite his blood soaked shirt, the splatters of blood on the corners of the bed sheets and the floor, the stab marks in Akutagawa’s door - those are things he can revisit.

He watches Akutagawa closely until he falls asleep. He won’t leave him this time.

[triglycercule]

putting on mtt offical themes and fanmade theme songs and group songs when i sleep all so when i fall asleep and dream i can see them and see what theyll be like and then i wont have to think of them 24/7 through my day when i can just think of them during night. this possibility could either end up in me getting killed by them so gruesomely that i wake up traumatized or i wake up happy and satisfied from a restful night of trio dream time

[asukiess]

miraculous ladybug is a 10/10 show because she did the akira slide

[fmhobeus]

fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.

fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?

fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.

fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.

fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.

fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)

fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.

fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.

fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.

fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.

fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.

"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"

fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.

fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"

fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.

fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.

fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ early morning moments with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff! jisung's a tiny bit suggestive

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: since i've done late night moments with them, i think it's only fitting i write this as well! enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts by reblogging or leaving a comment <3 (inspired by some of these prompts <3)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

You’ve been awake for a while now, snuggling and holding each other close as half of your body was on top of your boyfriend’s, almost latching onto him like a koala bear without shame. And he didn’t mind, Chan never did, content with being glued to you in every situation, hugging you so tightly like he wanted you to morph into one, the same entity kept alive by the beating of a singular heart.

“You fell asleep in the first 20 minutes of the movie last night.” You whisper, drawing random shapes on his exposed pecs, laying in the crook of his neck. Chan makes an apologetic sound before he’s interrupted by a yawn, stretching his arms above his head and letting one fall to curl around your middle. “Sorry, baby. I guess I was pretty tired.”

Tired is an understatement, and you laugh, lazily reaching for your phone on the nightstand to show him exactly what you’re talking about, with him tugging you right back to his chest when you stretch too far. There is a picture of Chan, sitting on the couch with his head thrown back and mouth open, snoring away while the movie he’s been begging you to watch together was rolling in the background.

The laugh he lets out is quieter than usual, the remains of sleep obvious in his half-closed eyes and deeper voice. “Damn, I was out like a light.”

You continue cuddling for a while before agreeing it’s time to start your day, reluctantly separating and sitting up at the end of the bed, adopting the same stance.

He’s still mumbling about something when you notice his hair sticking out in every direction, reaching out to tame the curls before stealing a kiss which only makes your boyfriend want another, and another until twenty minutes have passed and you’re still in bed, snuggling and making out like the world outside your bedroom did not exist.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

“Minho.” You whisper, tossing and turning under the blanket to face him, peering at his sleeping face. Your boyfriend was on his back, resting peacefully, unaware of the godly beauty he possessed, one people would surely go to war for, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

He doesn’t respond so, you try again. “Minho!” this time, he scrunches his nose cutely and rolls over, away from you and your antics he was too tired to be a victim of this early in the morning.

“Minho, are you awake yet?” You know what they say, third time is the charm because your boyfriend responds instantly, voice loud and clear, the opposite of your soft tone which takes you by complete surprise. “No.”

“Oh, okay.” you whisper, feeling bad for disturbing him. “Sorry.” you almost turn on your side and succumb to slumber before it hits you. Without warning, you swing a leg over his torso before rolling yourself over him to land on the other side of the bed, ignoring all his groans in protest.

“Liar!” You’re nose to nose now and Minho barely gets to open his eyes before you push his shoulder, causing him to fall on his back as you climb to straddle him. You waste no time leaning down and connecting your lips in a sweet kiss, cupping his cheeks and squeezing affectionately. As much as he wanted to complain, Minho couldn’t help but smile against your lips, body melting into the mattress while one of his veiny hands moved to rest on your exposed thigh, needing to feel more of you.

He should lie more often if this is the reward he gets.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

“Binnie.” You’re gentle as you brush curly hair strands from his forehead, smiling when he instantly leans into your touch. “My love, I know you’re awake.”

“Then you should also know I hate waking up to an empty bed.” He pouts, eyes still closed stubbornly. With the same fond smile, you roll your eyes, hand dropping down to slowly trace his every feature, knowing he could never resist you.

“I had a good cause, I promise.” When he doesn’t budge, you reach for the tray on the nightstand and place it across his lap, over the blanket, careful his smoothie doesn’t spill over. “I made breakfast.”

Just like magic, his eyes snap open and he sits up so quickly you wonder if he got whiplash that was instantly cured by the smell of his favorite breakfast. His eyes sparkle as his gaze moves back and forth from the tray to you, so touched and grateful as he takes it all in, noticing the effort you put in so early in the morning just to cook a feast and surprise him with breakfast in bed. Nobody’s ever done something like this for him, love him so deeply and openly. Is this what being the luckiest man in the world felt like?

“I love you.” The words stumble out without second thought, eyes misty, forgetting all about being upset and giving you attitude. When you laugh, he does too, carefully leaning over the food to kiss you, the love of his life that adored him in the exact same way he adored you.

Love is the greatest gift he’s ever received and as selfish as it sounds, Changbin hopes you’ll continue loving him this way for the rest of your shared lives, that you’ll always remain by his side. He promises to continue eating your cooking even when you’re both old and grey, impaired taste and all.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The early hours of the morning found you in the arms of your beloved, sleeping away, undisturbed by the outside world and its people who were already hurrying around to get to work on time. You won’t be joining them today, nor will the man whose warmth was currently engulfing you whole, creating a safe love bubble you never wanted to burst.

Your face was buried in his chest, the soft material of his t-shirt moving with each breath he took, his heartbeat rocking you to sleep every time your eyes opened to check the time. Old habits die hard, but Hyunjin always manages to calm your racing mind even from dreamland.

Half an hour later, when the sun starts to peek through the drawn curtains, you’re awakened by tiny paws jumping on the bed, breathing and barking loudly. So much for sleeping in. Hyunjin’s eyes open with a smile, arms tightening their hold on your middle as he brings you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head while squeezing tightly. Morning cuddles were a must, even if your boyfriend’s other baby was too impatient to be let out to allow you to enjoy them to the fullest. 

“Good morning, love.” He greets you with a kiss, lingering there for the briefest moment before finally tearing himself from you, giggling down the hallway as he quickly goes to allow Kkami on the terrace.

He comes back rambling about something that happened at a schedule the other day, blinking the sleep away as he hands you a water bottle, yawning here and there. Unfortunately for him, you’re not listening, too distracted by the way his plump lips move and his husky voice, the words going in one ear and out the other as your inner monologue takes over.

“Your morning voice is so hot.” Hyunjin stops mid-sentence, momentarily taken aback before he bursts out laughing, dramatically collapsing back into bed and reaching for your hand to hold. “What?”

You nod, now sitting up against the headboard, eyes still zoned in on his pink and wet lips, enthralled. “Tell me more, baby. What did Chan do?” “He wasn’t even there!” See, not paying attention at all. But who could blame you when your boyfriend couldn’t take the hint and finally kiss you again?

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

“I had a dream about you.” Jisung perks up from his place on your chest, the TV running idly in the background, showing a random cartoon. “Was I hot?” “You cheated on me.”

He gasps dramatically but doesn’t move, too comfortable as you continue running your fingers through his freshly dyed hair, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Asshole move, dream me. Off with his head!.” 

You chuckle, kissing the top of his head and turning into a puddle once he begins leaving wet kisses on your neck, apologizing or most likely trying to distract you from how he’s been acting in your dream. It was working, because you lost your train of thought a couple of times before managing to speak again, eyes fluttering shut.

“You were very mean, actually.” Jisung hums against your neck, licking the skin before his kisses move downwards, to your collarbones, warm hands holding you down by the waist, touch burning pleasantly through your thin clothing.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He props his head up, chin resting right above your chest as his eyes bore into yours with a familiar intensity. “Please let me make it up for you.”

That’s what he says but ten minutes into making out and caressing each other’s bodies, his head falls tiredly to his previous place on your chest and you’re both out like a light, the warmth and cloudy weather of the early morning casting the spell of sleep on your forms and trapping you in bed for another three hours.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

You were not a morning person, it was a well-known fact by everyone in your life. Especially by your boyfriend who usually stayed up to keep you company, talking the hours away and giggling under the blankets until you both passed out just as the moon was retiring for the day.

So, you’re more than perplexed when one very early morning, you feel a warm hand caressing your cheek, followed by soft lips peppering feather-like kisses on every inch of your face, coaxing you awake.

“Baby,” his deep voice calls, barely above a whisper to not scare you, leaving a kiss on the corner of your mouth this time, “wake up, angel.”

You make a face, eyes still closed in protest and make to turn over, away from him until you feel the bed dip and his hand in your hair, massaging the scalp gently. Was Felix trying to wake you up or lull you back to sleep? Pretty sure he was just as confused.

When he leans down again, hovering over your face, your arms spring up and lock at the back of his neck, quickly bringing him down and bumping your noses together. You see his eyes widen, inhaling sharply as he realizes what you’re about to do and dodges your kiss last second, lips landing on his cheekbone instead.

Groggy and grumpy from being woken up this early, you pout, relaxing under his weight as his chest presses yours down. “Kiss me!” Felix chuckles and shakes his head, hands on either side of your head holding him up. “Not until you wake up and join me in the kitchen.” Once he sees you shake your own head and move to try and kiss him again, he adds. “I have a surprise!”

Now why didn’t he say so from the beginning? You release him but he doesn’t move away immediately, smiling from ear to ear before kissing your forehead and scooping you out of bed in one swift movement, strong arms under your knees as he giggles and jogs towards the kitchen, face brightening up when a smile finally graces your features.   

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Every single morning, Seungmin was the first to wake up without fail, reaching for you to bring your body to his chest and cuddle until you also did, just laying there since he never wanted you to wake up alone. 

That’s why when you woke up earlier than usual, with his chin resting on your shoulder and hot breath hitting your cheek, you didn’t hesitate to move around and bring the blanket further up your bodies, making sure you were both covered and comfortable among the many pillows.

“Your feet are cold.” But Seungmin doesn’t respond, legs intertwined and body still glued to yours like he never wanted to let go, couldn’t. You sneak a glance over your shoulder and find his eyes closed, long eyelashes kissing the top of his cheeks as he rested, sleeping deeply. For the first time since you’ve known him, Seungmin didn’t smile in greeting as you woke up, still sleeping soundly like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It felt a bit strange, but your heart only grew as you watched him, admiring his side profile and the peaceful look on his face, the furrow between his eyebrows absent as dreamland took care of him.

You never got the chance to do this, wake up first and let your thoughts run wild as you resist the urge to squeeze his cheeks and plant kisses all over his face, love pouring out at a dangerous pace, threatening to suffocate him at any moment. Not like Seungmin would mind, adoring you too much to not allow you to do whatever you pleased.

As careful as you can be, one of your hands trails down and intertwines your fingers, gently bringing your connected hands to your chest as you curl further into him, content with getting more cuddle time, loving every single moment.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?” You mumble into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to hide from the obnoxious sunlight that is threatening to take your lover away with the start of a new day.

Jeongin laughs, incredulous. “No way! I’ve had countless roommates and none of them have ever complained about me randomly rambling in my sleep.” He headbutts you affectionately, almost like a cat, and snuggles closer, also bothered by the sun but too lazy to get up and close the curtains he forgot about last night.

“I’m not complaining.” Looking up, you share a breath as you move to plant a small kiss on his nose, smiling when it scrunches up in fake annoyance, knowing your boyfriend loved morning cuddles as much as you did. “I actually think it’s kind of endearing.”

He rolls his eyes, big hand drawing circles on your back under the blanket, soothing you in an attempt to get you both to fall back asleep. Mornings were not his thing, and he really didn’t want to leave you, clingier than usual. The bed was so warm, and you were so soft and smelt so good, how could he ever think about leaving? Not like he’d ever admit it out loud.

“What did I say?” He chooses to entertain you, stretching his whole body before bringing the blanket over your heads and moving his arms to hug you, turning on his side so you’re face to face. You pause, momentarily mesmerized by his beauty, messy hair and puffy eyes only making him look even more adorable in your eyes. Tracing his bottom lip, he puckers them to gently kiss your finger. “I don’t know, I don’t speak gibberish.”

He groans, regretting he asked and hiding his face in his pillow. “You also snore.” “I do not!” 

[imaginedisish]

My Girl (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!! So sorry this took so long. Here is the secret relationship/breeding kink fic. I honestly really like this one...and I hope you guys do too. Was listening to "Juna" by Clairo while writing it, but went with "My Girl" for the title. ENJOY!

Summary: You and Logan have been in a secret relationship for months, but everything comes to a head when a new mutant visits the Institute, and won't leave you alone...Logan shows him, and you, who your man is.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!!! Thigh riding, Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), breeding kink, praise kink, possessive!Logan, jealous!Logan, unspecified/implied!Age Gap, established relationship, creepy!OC who hits on reader and doesn't lay off, minor violence, afab!/fem!reader, fluff/feelings, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it?

Word Count: 5,313 this is why it took so long also, smut right under the cut...

You remember the first time he fucked you, vividly. 

It was late at night, after a mission. You almost died in his arms. And that was what broke that thing inside him, the burden of time that he carries, that deep-seated pain that made it justifiable to stay away from you. He had held back for so long—had done his all to resist falling for you. He was screwed from the beginning, and he knew that. But he had become so terrified at the thought of losing you that he hadn’t realized it could happen all the same if he stayed away—if he forced himself to remain a friend. 

So, when he fucked you that first time, that first night, he fucked you like it’d be the last—the only time. 

“Goddammit, so fucking perfect,” he mumbled, his lips bruising yours, shoving himself deep inside—as deep as you could take him. “Needed you this whole time. Can’t live without you.”

“Logan,” you whined, his hips snapping against yours. “D-don’t stop, please.” “Never gonna stop, pretty girl,” he promised. “Can’t go back. Can’t be anywhere but here.”

For months now, you’ve been together—but nobody knows. There’s no doubt about commitment—nothing casual about the relationship in the slightest. You start and end every day in Logan’s bed. You’ve talked about running off together, getting married, and settling down. For the first time in his long life, Logan sees a future where he’s happy—genuinely happy. 

The sun peaks through the curtains. You curl yourself into Logan’s chest. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you tight against him, even in his sleep. You listen to his breathing as the fall breeze creeps through the open window. Everything is calm and quiet in the morning, when everyone is still tucked away in their bedrooms, sound asleep. 

Logan groans, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Go back to sleep.” His voice is heavy, laden with exhaustion. “Too early.” He kisses the spot just under your ear, and you moan involuntarily, feeling extra sensitive in the haze of the morning. He smiles softly against your neck, and kisses you again, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan louder this time, intertwining your legs with Logan’s. “Love those pretty little noises you make.”

“Feels good,” you murmur, his thigh slotting between your legs, pressing against your core. You can’t help but grind down on his thigh, rocking your hips back and forth. “Need you, Lo,” you beg. 

“You’re gonna ruin me,” Logan husks, his palms warm against your bare skin as he slips underneath your shirt—which is really his. 

He’s slow in the morning, pressing soft kisses on your bare shoulders, letting his touch linger longer than normal. He likes the peace of it all—waking up to each other, smelling you next to him, feeling the other side of his bed warm and full of you. When he fucks you, early like this, he takes his time. 

His fingertips trace the curves of your stomach, falling into your dips, gripping your flesh. Logan breathes you in, his lips softly melting into yours. “Still too early?” You mumble between soft, lazy kisses. 

“Never too early to want you,” Logan husks, dragging his thigh against your core again. “Always need you.” You can feel his erection through his boxers. “Gonna take care of my girl. Gonna make you—”

There’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Scott’s voice on the other side. He knocks again. “Logan, you in there?”

Logan tries to ignore him, his fingertips dragging down your sides, bumping into the hem of your panties as he trails wet, open-mouthed kisses down the hollow of your throat. You let out a breathy moan as Logan bites down on your pulse point. He smiles under your jaw at the soft sound, content that you can’t hold back. 

“Logan,” you whisper, running your hands up his arms, to his shoulders, your fingertips finding the nape of his neck. “He’s not gonna stop.”

Sure enough, Scott knocks again. “Logan, I know you’re in there,” he calls, banging on the door now. “Wake up. We have some tech guy on his way.” 

Logan groans into your neck. “Why do you need me, Summers?” Logan licks your collarbone teasingly, hiking your t-shirt farther up your body. 

“He’s…a mutant,” Scott explains. “He can speak with machines, computers, code—you name it, he can do it. He’s gonna fix some stuff around the mansion. Charles asked me to make sure you’re awake just in case…” Scott trails off.

Logan finishes Scott’s sentence. “In case everything goes to shit?” 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Scott huffs, likely shaking his head on the other side of the door. “But yes. In case things don’t go as planned. I’m also looking for—"

But Logan cuts Scott off, saying your name for him. 

“Yeah, I can’t find her. Do you know where she might—”

“On a run,” Logan chimes in, and you suppress your laughter by pressing your face into his chest. “She’ll be back soon.” Logan’s arms wrap around your back, holding you against him. 

“Alright,” Scott says, shuffling, slowly stepping away from the door. “If you see her, let her know what’s going on, okay?”

“Trust me bub,” Logan husks, his fingers digging into your flesh, tickling you. “I’ll make sure she knows.” 

Scott mumbles something unintelligible as he walks down the hallway, his footsteps echoing as he disappears down the stairs. 

Logan’s lips are attached to your neck again, sucking playfully. “Where were we?” He teases, his nails grazing down your back. His palms settle on your ass, squeezing your flesh tightly in his hands. 

You moan, your chest flush with his. “Logan,” you whine. “We need to get up,” you insist, your hands pushing against Logan’s broad shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscular biceps. “Can’t stay in bed anymore.”

Logan grunts, his thigh still nudged between your legs, rocking into your core. You want him, and it’s tempting to let him take you right here, right now. But you can’t. And he knows it. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips and pulls you tightly into his chest. “Later,” he promises, his lips finding the shell of your ear. You smile at the thought. There was always a later with Logan.

You snuck out of Logan’s room, unnoticed, as always. It was still early—too early for the ruckus of a morning at the mansion to begin. You got ready for the day and slipped downstairs. You’re still shocked at just how oblivious the rest of the team is. Truly, no one knows about you and Logan. 

You’re in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for the day to start. Familiar, heavy footsteps approach, and you smile before you can even see his face. 

“Hi pretty girl,” Logan coos, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your front. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his chest and the strength of his heartbeat. He presses a chaste kiss to the crown of your head and walks over to the coffee pot. 

Scott enters the kitchen as Logan takes his first sip of coffee—one second earlier and he would have seen Logan holding you. “The guy is here,” Scott announces from the doorway. He looks at you and smiles. “Oh! Hey! How was your run?” He asks cheerfully. 

You almost spit out your coffee, remembering what you were actually doing this morning. “Great!” You say, doing your all to hold back your laughter. “Surprisingly relaxing.” Logan snorts and plays it off like he’s sniffling.

Scott smiles, none the wiser, and nods, cocking his head towards the hallway just outside the kitchen. “Come meet the tech guy!” He backs out of the doorway and into the hallway. Logan settles his coffee cup—which reads #1 Professor—next to yours on the counter and gives your waist a quick squeeze as you hop out of the chair. You walk shoulder to shoulder into the foyer. All the signs of your relationship are there—out in the open—and yet, still, no one seems to catch them.

You step into the foyer, and there’s Scott and the Professor by the front door, chatting with a younger man—who’s about your age. The man’s eyes find yours, and he smiles softly. “Hi there!” He calls, waving. “I’m Mark!” He strides away from Scott and the Professor and towards you. “But you can call me Techno.” He smirks and winks, extending his hand out, waiting for you to take it.

Logan grabs his hand instead, gripping it tightly, catching Mark off guard. “Wolverine,” Logan growls. “And you can’t call me Logan,” he adds, gritting his teeth. “So, you turn on computers, bub?” 

Mark grimaces, wrenching his hand from Logan’s grasp. “A little more than that,” he asserts, closing his eyes and bawling his fists. You look up as the lights flicker, and televisions turn on and off. Your cell phone rings in your pocket, and you pull it out. The screen reads: Incoming Call from Mark.

Your lips part. “How did you…” You trail off. 

Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “My powers essentially let me communicate with electricity and tech,” he explains. You can practically hear Logan seething beside you. 

“A technopath,” Charles offers as he rolls over to join the three of you with Scott in tow. 

“Exactly,” Mark says, nodding to Charles. “Makes it easy to put my number into pretty girls’ phones.” Mark winks at you, and you press your lips into a straight line in response. 

You shake your head. “I’m not inter—”

You’re cut off by the sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing. “These,” Logan pauses, lifting his claws to Mark. “Make it real easy to hurt creeps who put their numbers into girls’ phones without asking first, bub.” 

Mark rolls his eyes, and the corners of your lips twitch up. You try to force down your smile, try to slow the rhythm of your heart. You secretly liked when Logan got possessive over you. He was inherently protective, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on just a little. 

“Let’s stay on course,” Charles reprimands, guiding Mark to the hallway to the left with a wave of his hand. “Let me show you some of the machines I’d like you to work on.”

“It would be my pleasure, Professor Xavier,” Mark says harshly, his eyes locked on Logan as he backs away to follow Charles and Scott.

Logan lowers all but his center claw, giving Mark the middle finger as he turns around. “Don’t mind Logan,” Scott says as they disappear into a room, the door shutting behind them.

“Logan,” you whisper, now that everyone is gone. “Don’t worry,” you assure, bringing a hand to his shoulder. 

He turns to look at you. “He’s a fucking creep.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

 It is not going well, or fine.

Mark is something of a nuisance. He’s only been here for an hour, but he has already created multiple excuses to talk to you, to pull you away from whatever task is at hand. 

You’re in the middle of teaching an English class, discussing Mrs. Dalloway with a group of older students. “So, what are we to make of Clarissa and Sally’s relationship?” You ask the students, to no avail. 

This was your hardest class of the day—especially given the fact that you’re not even a decade older than most of the students. You had joined the X-Men in your early 20s, your powers having shown themselves a bit later than in most mutants, and only a few years have passed since then. Convincing the students who have been here their whole lives that you deserve to teach has been nothing short of a challenge. 

So, when Mark butts his head in on your class, annoyance burns through your body. You take a deep breath and swallow down your frustration. 

“Hey!” He chimes, his head poking through the open classroom door. “Mind if I take a look at your computer really quick?”

The class perks up, more focused on you than they were just seconds ago. You fake a smile, nodding and pushing yourself off the front of your desk so that he has space to access the computer. 

He slips behind the desk and smiles widely. “You didn’t have to move,” he remarks. “Would’ve been nice to have you close.”

You want to gag. You turn away from the students, whispering so they can’t hear. “Listen,” you chide, narrowing your eyes. “I am not interested, so could you please—”

“What are you doing in here, asshole?” Logan’s voice echoes against the walls of the classroom. For the first time all year, the class is paying incredibly close attention. “The Professor told you to check the computers in the lab down the hall.” Logan fully enters the room, striding over to Mark, his hands bawled into fists at his sides. “Beat it, bub.”

“Whatever,” Mark mutters, his head down as he exits the classroom. The bell rings, and the class stands, grabbing their things and filing out the door. 

You groan. “Please read the next twenty pages for tomorrow!” You shout over the hubbub and shuffling of students. “I know it’s a challenging novel, but I think you guys can…” The students are gone before you can finish your sentence. “Handle it.” 

Logan smiles sympathetically, closing the distance between you and him. His presence is comforting, warm, everything you’ve ever needed. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Sorry,” he apologizes, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to make your class harder than it is already.”

You take a deep breath, your annoyance fading away. “You helped,” you whisper. “Mark is the one who ruined things,” you insist. “He won’t leave me alone.”

Logan chuckles. “You don’t like him?” He teases. “Don’t like a guy your own age flirting with you?” He’s egging you on, trying to joke, but you can tell part of him is a bit serious. 

You shake your head. “Only like you.” You press your lips to the hollow of his throat and Logan grunts. 

He reluctantly pulls away, the palms of his hands dragging down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours. “Gotta get to my class,” he husks, his fingers slipping, tugging longingly as he steps to the door. “Meet me after?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. You’ll be outside his classroom door before the bell rings, waiting for him.

You nod, and he smiles, his hands gripping the doorframe like some invisible magnet is pulling him away, and he’d give anything to spend another second with you. He slips down the hallway, and into his classroom. 

You spend the next thirty minutes or so grading papers, waiting for the period to end so that you can walk across the hall to Logan’s class. Another few minutes pass, and you start to collect your things, readying yourself to meet Logan. Your heart thumps in your chest at the thought, even after all the months you’ve spent together. 

You grab your bag and head to the door, closing it behind you and locking up. You cross the hall and stand outside Logan’s door. He’s teaching a younger group of kids—ten to eleven-year-olds. You would trade places with him in a heartbeat if you could. The younger students loved you. There was no question of respect, no doubt of your power. But Logan was given the class as a challenge—Charles wanted to test his patience. 

And, honestly, seeing him with the children did something to you. You loved watching the way he doted on them, carefully explaining material in a way they’d understand. He was an excellent teacher, and one day, you’re sure, he’d make an even better father. You find yourself falling into fantasy: Logan, late at night, a baby—your baby—on his chest. You can see it now—him changing a diaper, teaching the child to walk. Your heart squeezes in your chest, your eyes falling closed as you daydream about the future—your future together. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear Mark walk up to you—don’t feel his hand grab your shoulder.

You yelp and jump. “Oh my god,” you mumble, turning around and coming face to face with him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his hand lingering for far too long on your shoulder. He finally peels away, his arms falling to his sides. He leans against the wall, trying to appear casual and cool. “What are you doing tonight?”

The bell rings before you can think of a polite way to shoo Mark away, and the students exit Logan’s classroom, happily shouting greetings in your direction. You stood outside Logan’s door every day, and the students were always excited to see you.

A few of them run up to hug you, complaining about Logan’s gruffness. When they hear Logan’s footsteps approaching the door, they bolt down the hallway, their laughter booming against the walls. 

Logan steps out into the hall, and he groans audibly when he sees Mark next to you. But Mark ignores Logan, his eyes trained on yours. “Got plans?” He asks again. 

You roll your eyes. “Dude, I’m not interested!” You groan, too irritated to pretend to be nice. Mark smirks and parts his lips, ready to persist like the creep he is.

Logan steps in front of you, his claws already out. “Listen, bub,” he growls, his claws just inches from Mark’s chest. “If you don’t fuck off and stop harassing my girl, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Mark scoffs. “My girl? What are you, her father? You can’t possibly be dating her.”

You can see the anger in Logan’s eyes, the honest rage. “Lo,” you soothe. “Don’t do it.” But you know it’s too late. His decision is already made.

Logan shoves Mark against the wall, his claws pressed against his throat. “I’m her fucking boyfriend, bub,” he grunts as Mark squirms helplessly under his hold. 

“Oh, her boyfriend?” He teases, despite the fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you too old to be a boyfriend?”

Logan shoves him harder into the wall, and Mark yelps pathetically, like a small dog. “More serious than that,” Logan asserts. “Guessing you wouldn’t know anything about that though, would you?” 

“Alright, break it up!” Scott’s voice echoes from down the hall. He runs over, Jean and the Professor by his side. Rogue and Gambit follow close behind. But Logan doesn’t budge, the tips of his claws almost digging hard enough to draw blood. 

You bring your hand to Logan’s shoulder. “He isn’t gonna hurt me,” you whisper to Logan. “I could handle him easily if he tried.” You slide your hand to the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him, to relax him. “Nothing’s going to happen, okay?” 

Logan retracts his claws and lets go of Mark, who stutters away from Logan and into the center of the hallway. “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” Mark shouts, but Logan doesn’t react. He simply intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“You okay?” He asks, his thumb brushing circles into the side of your hand. 

You arch a brow. “Are you okay?” You smile and lean into him. 

“So…” Scott trails off, interrupting. “You two are…”

“Together.” You finish his sentence, your eyes still on Logan’s. You can feel the tension in his shoulders stretch down to his hand. He’s rigid, still on edge. You know he needs to get out of here, needs to be alone with you. 

“How long has this been going on?” Scott asks, genuinely caught off guard. “Did anyone know about this?” 

You turn to the team to see heads shaking side to side—save for the Professor. “I did, of course,” Charles confesses. “But I felt it was best left a secret until the two lovebirds decided otherwise.”

Rogue shakes her head, the corners of her mouth twitching up. “I can’t believe you never told me!” 

“Told you what?” Jubilee calls from down the hall, approaching the group. She blows a bubble as she stands next to Rogue, her eyes trailing down to where your and Logan’s hands connect. Her eyes widen and her bubble bursts. “No way!” She cheers, jumping up and down. 

“Settle down,” Charles laughs, extending his hand down the hall to where Mark was just moments ago. “Scott, make sure our technopath friend makes it out the door alive.” Scott nods and heads down the hall. Charles turns to you and Logan. “As for the two of you,” he pauses, winking. “We’ll discuss more at a later point.”

You smile in understanding, and Logan squeezes your hand—another sign it’s time to go. He’s still worked up about Mark; he needs to get this out of his system, needs to relieve all the built-up tension. 

“Got something I need to take care of,” Logan says to the group, tugging you down the hallway.  

He strides through the mansion, practically yanking your arm out of your socket. “Logan,” you whisper, trying to catch his attention. You’ve never seen him like this—rage and jealousy like fire in his eyes, dripping from his pores. He leads you up the stairs and towards his bedroom, and it suddenly dawns on you what exactly he needs to take care of. 

Logan pushes the door open and slams it closed the second you’re inside. His hands are immediately on you, grabbing at the pillowy flesh of your ass, pinning you to the door. His lips find yours—hungry and rough, the wiry hairs of his beard scratching your face. He tastes you, his tongue seeking more of you as it swipes across your lower lip. You open your mouth, inviting him in, your tongue tangling with his.

Logan hoists you up without breaking the kiss, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel his erection straining inside his jeans, pressing against your heat. He grinds into you as one hand slips under your top and drags up your back, holding you tightly against him. 

“Need you,” he mumbles against your lips. “Always fucking need you.” He tears you away from the door and towards the bed. He throws you onto the mattress and climbs over you, slowly, like an animal stalking its prey. “Tell me you need me, pretty girl.”

“N-need you,” you stutter as he settles on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

“I’m not too old for you?” Logan teases, one of his hands loosening its grasp on your arm and trailing down your body, settling on the hem of your shirt. “You don’t wanna be with anyone else?” He hikes up your top, pushing it above your breasts. 

You can feel the heat pooling between your legs. “No,” you whine, arching your back as his fingertips play with the bottom of your bra. “Only wanna be with you,” you breathe as Logan slowly, teasingly pulls your bra up. “Please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “Want you to fuck me.” 

Logan smirks, finally tugging your bra and top over your head and casting them to the floor. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, palming your breasts with his free hand, rolling your nipples under his thumb. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

Logan hums, his fingertips trailing across the valley of your breasts, doing the same on the other side. Logan pinches harder, and you moan louder this time. “That’s it,” he coos, his lips finding your pulse point, sucking roughly. “Don’t be quiet, darlin’,” he demands. You whisper his name, your voice whiny and needy. “Show me how much you need me. Keep making those pretty little noises, baby.”

“Feels good,” you whimper as his hand traces down your stomach, to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in his fist and yanking it up to your waist.

He chuckles darkly. “You wore this just for me?” He asks, his thumb hooking inside the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs. “Wanted to make it easier for me to fuck you?”

“Fuck, yes, just for you,” you pant, watching as Logan lifts himself off you, tugging his t-shirt up and over his head. He dexterously unclasps his belt buckle and throws the leather to the floor. He balances on his forearm as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “I’m all yours, Lo,” you promise as he presses his forehead to yours.

Logan’s hand glides down your side, slipping between your legs and finding your folds. You moan as his fingertips prod at your entrance, spreading your slick. “Fuck, all this is for me?” He pinches your clit before swiping through your folds again. “You’re soaked already, princess.” His fingertips brush your clit, tracing achingly slow circles into the bud. 

You rock your hips against Logan’s touch, searching for more friction. “Logan, need you,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I’m yours.”

“All mine?” He whispers, his touch suddenly disappearing. You groan at the loss of contact. “Say it again, pretty girl,” he demands, guiding his cock to your folds. 

“All yours,” you answer, trying to move your hips lower to feel just an inch of him. “Please just—”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he slams into you, down to the hilt with one thrust. He throbs against your walls as he works you open, his hips still, his cock splitting you in two. “Fuck,” Logan grunts. “So fucking tight. Perfect little pussy. Wanna stay right here forever. Maybe I won’t even fuck you. Maybe I’ll just make you sit on my cock.”

But you need him to move, need him to take you. “Logan, f-fuck me,” you choke, trying to move your hips. His hand grips your waist, stopping you from sliding up his length. “Please, move,” you plead. 

“So impatient,” he chides, kissing you bruisingly, biting your lips. He finally pulls out and slams back in, bottoming out again. His hand slides down your waist and slips between your legs. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I want?” 

His hand is just above your clit, inches away from where you need him most, waiting for your answer. You nod emphatically. “Yes,” you say with pleading eyes. “Anything. You can do anything just please—oh fuck!” Logan pinches your clit and starts his machinations, swirling around the bud. He pulls out and pumps back in, setting a ruthless pace. 

His hips snap against yours, taking all of you with reckless abandon. His lips swallow your moans, consuming you, drinking you in. Of all the times he’s fucked you, it’s never been quite like this. There’s a hunger in Logan’s eyes that you’ve never seen before, an undying need you’re not sure can be satisfied. Something feels different about this time—more intense, fervent, and feverish. 

Logan thrusts in and out of you, bottoming out with every pump, still stretching you out. His fingertips stroke your clit roughly, your walls already fluttering around him. He curses under his breath, his chest heaving against yours. 

“Look at you,” he groans, fucking into you. “So beautiful like this. Always so beautiful.” You can feel his cock twitching inside you. “Wanna make you mine, sweetheart.”

“I-I already am,” you stammer, his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. “Always gonna be yours.”

“Want more than that,” Logan grunts, his hips rocking, his pace quickening. He’s so deep inside you—hitting exactly where you need him most with every thrust. 

“Whatever you want,” you pant, your chest pressing flush to his. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

“Yeah?” He growls at the shell of your ear. “You gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me stuff you full of me?”

“Yes, please,” you cry out as he pumps in and out, shoving himself as deep inside as he can possibly fit. You feel so full, so complete. Nothing compares to having Logan this close, to having him be so connected to you. You’re already coming undone underneath him, falling apart. “Want you to stay inside.” And then the words fall from your lips without a second thought. But you mean it, and you want it more than anything…

“Wanna have your baby, Lo.”

Logan groans at your words, his cock throbbing with need. “Fuck, don’t tease me like that, sweetheart.” 

“N-not teasing,” you stammer. “I mean it.”

“Shit,” Logan growls, his skin slapping against yours, your words spurring him on. He’s letting himself go, letting himself plunge deep inside you, fast and hard. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his length dragging against your walls, pushing deeper still. “You gonna let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes!” You cry out, the fire burning in your belly spreading up to your spine, coursing through your veins. Your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tightly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, rutting into you, his hips stuttering. “Want you forever.”

You throw your head back as his fingers swirl around your clit. “You have me Lo, always gonna have me.” Your walls clench down around him, and the tension snaps. Electricity shoots up your spine as your orgasm crashes into you. It’s intense—more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. Pleasure washes over you in waves, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

Logan is right behind you, whispering a string of praises as he finishes inside you. “Did so fucking good for me. Always so perfect, beautiful.” His thrusts slow until he’s still inside you, but he doesn’t pull out. “Don’t wanna move, princess,” he husks, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“You don’t have to,” you say, your voice hoarse. Logan rolls you onto your side, hoisting your leg up and over his hip, keeping himself deep inside your cunt. You close your eyes, your heartbeat finally steadying, your chest still heaving in time with Logan’s. 

The silence is comfortable, calming. You listen to Logan’s breathing as he runs his hands up and down your back. “You okay?” He asks, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. 

You hum. “I’m perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into his chest. “Do you really…” You trail off, suddenly nervous to ask the only question on your mind, despite everything that just happened. 

“Yes,” Logan answers immediately. “I meant it. Wanna be a family. Wanna be with you forever.”

You melt into him, wrapping your arms around his back. You can feel his cock growing hard inside you as you move to get more comfortable. “I want that too, Lo,” you sigh. “More than anything.” You smile against him, thinking about your future, thinking about how all this started because some asshole wouldn’t leave you alone. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks. You can hear the smirk in his voice. 

You look up at him. “You’re crazy, you know that?” You joke, your smile widening. “You could’ve hurt that guy.”

Logan’s smile widens too. “Just crazy about you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you, his cock still deep inside you. “Should’ve kicked his ass.” You bite your lip, waiting for his next move. “You’re my girl,” he groans, sliding out of you slightly. 

“Yours,” you breathe as he thrusts back in. “All yours.”

tags: @cosmiccandydreamer @alsoprettyinpink @alastorssimp @1800-fight-me @iamburdened @chaoticweirdogeek @loganobsessed @seasonofthenerd @witch-lemon @the-occasional-artist1125 @https-murdock @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[nochepsicodelica]

You're tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep in any position you lie in. Every time you turn, Toji accommodates to your new position, but you never last in one position long enough for him to stay asleep.

"Do you not want me to cuddle you or something?" He asks, opening his tired eyes for the nth time that night.

"No, you're good," you respond, turning onto your side, again. He sighs, hoping this will be the position you finally fall asleep in. He latches onto your back, wrapping his arm around you before shutting his eyes. Two minutes later, you're wiggling around, again, turning onto your stomach. Your arms wrap around your pillow, and you rest the side of your face on it. Toji always has to be touching some part of you when he sleeps, so he throws his arm over your back. He clicks his tongue when, once again, you flip onto your back.

"What, baby? Why are you moving around so much?" He's trying not to let his tiredness control his attitude towards you, but you've been doing this for almost half an hour now.

"I can't sleep. I close my eyes and nothing happens. It's just dark," you explain.

"Well, try again, ma. You wake up too early to be going to sleep so late."

You do as he says, and try again. Your arms rest on your stomach and you try to stay as still as possible with your eyes shut. Suddenly, your feet feel too warm and you feel the urge to find a cool spot on the blanket, so you shift your legs. You feel like your head is in an awkward position on your pillow, like you're sinking backwards and your neck is uncomfortable because of it. You feel like turning back onto your side and curling up, so you do just that, letting Toji's arm slide off your chest.

"Shift one more time," he grumbles, turning his body towards your back, again, draping his arm over your waist. He's tired of hearing the sheets rustle with every move you make.

You heed his warning, and stay still for the longest you have in a minute. Toji thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, and feels safe to doze off, as well.

Then, you flip onto your other side, snapping the last string of Toji's patience. Without a single warning, you're being pulled until you're flat on top of him, your face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around you, fastening your body against his and he crosses his legs over yours, securing them. He can feel you fidgeting in his hold, still trying to move.

"Stop, mama," he says, holding you tighter. "Just breathe."

You still and try to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It's steady, like the rise and fall of his chest. He smells good and his skin is comfortably warm. His arms apply a relaxing amount of pressure on your back. You don't feel unsteady as you remain balanced on top of him. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing is replicating the rhythm of his. Your heartbeat is slowing as you calm down and you release all the tension in your body, allowing yourself to go limp. Your eyelids fall shut and all that can be heard are the soft sounds of you breathing through your nose. Both of you finally get to rest.

[chastiefoul]

he finds you crying ft. love and deepspace men

ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel, and sylus a/n: I always feel like mc wasn’t given enough time to grief when chapter 4 happened (or maybe they just didn’t show it or i remember it wrong) but to lose the people you’ve considered family like that in front of your eyes would severely mess on anyone’s mental well-being. mc stronger than me fr i would've had a breakdown every night. so i tried to write the comfort that was long overdue. <3

Zayne

He found you hunched over at the couch, knees tucked to your chest. your shoulder shook as he heard the sniffles and although he’s physically perfectly fine, he swore it felt like his heart was breaking in two.

He would gently put his key on the table, making his presence known in the subtlest way possible so you didn’t get startled.

You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and sat normally but suddenly in no time you were carried as he made you sit on his lap, bringing your head close to his neck as he held you tight.

Zayne wasn’t one who’s great at offering consoling words, as he also a firm believer of actions speak louder than words. As he rubbed your back gently he only said, “Let it all out, I’m here.”

So you did just that. You’ve said this once to him as a joke, but truly, anywhere by his side was the time you felt the most safe.

The doctor continued to comfort you in silence, hoping with every beat of his heart that his arms and hands that’s so used in saving people’s lives, could offer at least some kind of solace for your heart that was in disarray.

Xavier

He’d never hated the sight of a bed so much, until he found you crying atop of it.

Xavier would rushes over to you (arguably faster when he encountered strayed wanderers), determined to do anything he could to help you feel better.

As he put a hand over your cheek, wiping the tears that just kept on coming he whispered, “I’m here, what do you need?”

When you couldn’t even manage a reply Xavier would just stay by your side, his and was diligent in rubbing the side of your face; he never felt so useless, knowing the little gesture gave almost to none help.

For someone who finds sleep easy inbetween every hours, that was the most restless he’s ever been. He stayed with you until you calmed down, offering gentle whispers as you felt your awake state slipping away.

The moment you’re asleep Xavier was keen on wiping your face softly off of the remaining tears, and he tucked you in properly. He brought you to his embrace.

Yet unlike any other nights, he couldn’t find any part of him that was able to join you into the dream state.

Rafayel

Rafayel knew he came at a bad time. Seeing the way you spoke so stiffly and the way you zoned out of the conversation every few minutes.

However, he also knew he couldn’t leave you alone right then.

The silence once again was loud, but he didn’t think you realize that, as he followed your stare to the table, to what’s on the top of the table to be exact. A necklace with an apple charm on it.

He approached your side, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Miss bodyguard, you don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? Especially now, since you’re off duty.”

You chuckled quietly, but what followed after was not your usual easy smile but instead it was tears streaming down your face. And it felt like Rafayel could offer anything he had just to make them stop. And if that’s not enough, he swore to give you twice or thrice of what he had, it didn’t matter if he was to be in debt.

He held you tight, the sight of you crying was enough to make tears made their way to his eyes as well. And it pained him, knowing the best he could do in that moment was only to hold you tighter, as he wished that he could mend whatever broken part you had with one of his.

Sylus

He didn’t even flinch when you climbed on his lap, your usual talkativeness was nowhere to be found.

You rested your head on his shoulder and within seconds he knew that your emotions were in chaos, and if you thought you could find comfort in him, then he was more than happy to be there for you.

“Let me stay like here for a while,” you said weakly, voice all tense and anxious.

He brought a palm to your back, “By all means, darling. You didn’t think I was going to turn you away, did you?”

You stayed quiet, trying your best to get your emotions in order but it just seemed impossible. Sylus then sigh at your another attempt to pretend once again that you’re okay. “Cry if you need. Tears were never a sign of weakness, it just proves that you’re human.”

His rigid sentence somehow brought a strange sense of comfort for you, making your tears escape freely.

Sylus’ fingers felt fleeting on your back, like a touch that could slip away anytime. But he made sure none of that will happen as he stroke your hair gently over and over.

Was he worried of you? Absolutely. Yet he believed with all of his entire being that you that has fallen apart that day, would have no time standing back up again on the next day.

If there’s anything he learnt about you during your time with him, is that you’re a stranger to giving up.

[sexilene]

boy nextdoor!jj is so hot hehe him choking me while he fucks me in a matting press AHHHH. want to see him smirking down at me through his floppy blonde hair wet with sweat as he puts his other hand over my mouth so my parents don’t wake up :3

ohmygoodness stop it right now. the way i smiled reading thisss pleaseeee!!! adding this to the kinktober list cuz why not!! #19 (ignore any spelling mistakes sorry lol!)

anotha little boynextdoor!jj x girlnextdoor!reader thought ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

when your boyfriend does manage to sneak in through the window by climbing on a tree…he usually spends the night. your parents go to sleep fairly early, like soon after dinner early, so that gives you and jj some alone time in the dark without worrying about one of your parents randomly entering your room to check on you. it's happened before and though jj is getting better at running to find a hiding spot, it's is not ideal.

your parents figure you like to fall asleep to the tv you have in your room watching your little movies, and that it’s the movies making the little sounds. while that is true on some nights, this time around both the tv, you and your boyfriend are making sounds.

“jay!” you squeal when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending down again to press his flushed hard cock deeper into you. “shhh, gotta be quiet, like a little mouse, quiet okay?” he shushes you, your little movie still on in the background, providing a decent amount of light to illuminate his features and yours.

“uh huh…okay” you nod, still a little dazed due to the past two orgasms he gave you by fingering you a little over 20 minutes ago. once he pushes into your puffy pulsing heat, he wraps a strong hand around your throat and starts to squeeze down, causing you to furrow your eyebrows and grip the hand on your neck. jj is practically trapping you there, underneath him getting incessantly plowed by his big dick.

“wanna hold my hand?” he offers you the hand that’s not on your neck, you mewl at his sweetness, he’s still trying to make you feel as loved and safe as possible even if he is fucking you like he hates you.

“mhmm!”

“here babydoll” he takes your hand in his, the sounds of skin slapping skin faintly bouncing off the walls, not wanting to risk waking the whole neighborhood up with the way he really wants to be pounding into you right now.

your lips are swollen from his kisses, drool threatening to escape the corners of your lips, tear stains on your cheeks glisten due to the lighting, your hair all messy, and still jj thinks you look like the prettiest little thing.

“y’look cute, c’mere” your boyfriend grunts, pulling you up by your neck for another kiss, “harder jayjay, please harder!” you whisper, needy as ever.

“i know babe,” jj chokes you harder and uses his other hand to rub your clit in fast circles, “g’nna cum again!” you squeal out.

“gonna wake up your parents, hold on,” he takes his hand off your neck and covers your mouth to keep you from making any more loud noises, as much as he loves to hear them….

“alright kittie cat no more screamin’ or im gonna have to press your face into the pillow,” he whispers in your ear.

“mph- nmm” your words muffled by his big hand,

“yeaaaah good girl, almost done baby, just keep takin’ it…” he bends your legs back further into a mating press and starts thrusting in again. the position causing his dick to go in deeper and hit the spots that make you melt. that combined with the way both your bodies all sticky with sweat and how he smells all salty and musky, makes you roll your eyes back and then squeeze them shut.

“h-ha…shit, y’so warm and wet holy fuck i love you so much.” jj grits through his teeth, bringing that hand back down to play with your pulsing clit. you whine into his hand as you cum hardddd on his dick, squeezing him so hard he can barely pull out to thrust in again.

“shhh sh sh, there you go…reaaal yummy huh?” he coos, bringing that hand back up to choke you again, “baby girl likes getting choked huh? dont’cha?”

you try and make a sound but you just can’t with how hard he’s squeezing your neck. “yeeeeaaah she likes it, little pussy gushes on me when i squeeze your throat like…thisss…” he gives a few final hard sloppy thrusts, letting go of your neck to give you a breathing break, sweat dripping down his chest, before he shoots hot strings of cum into your cervix.

he doesn’t pull out to keep all that cum stuffed in you and bends down to give you wet sloppy ‘good job’ kisses, whispering an ‘i love you’ after every kiss.

“think we were pretty quiet this time?” your boyfriend whispers looking into your eyes, and all you can do is give him doe eyes, pout and let out a little “mph!” ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Puppy Love.

Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.

You heard Yuuji, first.

 He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.

But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.

You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.

His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”

“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”

Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.

It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.

You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.

You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—

Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.

Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.

It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.

You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—

“Stop.”

Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”

It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.

Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.

The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.

“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”

There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”

“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”

And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”

His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.

Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”

Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.

Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”

His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”

But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.

“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”

Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair” prompts 

Character B carding their fingers through Character A’s hair and playing with the strands.

Character B peeling back the neck of Character A’s turtle neck sweater to trail gentle kisses down their neck. (This!! It is so hot, and it's everything I didn't know I needed until now, and I cannot stop thinking about it wlkfnlkwe)

Character B placing their arm around Character A’s waist while in public, resting their chin on Character A’s shoulder. “Hello,” they say in a teasing tone as Character A tries to grab ahold of their hand to keep it there but fails a few times before successfully doing so. 

Leaning against each other while in public.

Spooning and back hugs.

Character B letting Character A rest their head on their chest; lets them listen to their heart beat. 

Character B whispering sweet nothings into Character A’s ear.

Character B checking in on Character A to make sure they’re comfortable and okay with the way things are going; to make sure they’re not being too much. “You’re not,” Character A would reassure, repositioning themselves to get closer to Character B.

Just cuddles and snuggles in general.

Neck kisses.

Kisses littered all over the face. (!!! It's one thing to read about it and one thing to experience it wlejbfewljn)

Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling.

Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell.

Character B making sure Character A gets home safe by driving them home.

Character A telling Character B to message them when they get back home safe, and once Character B gets home, they follow through by sending a message to let Character A know they’ve gotten back home safe.

Taking naps together, from day till night, waking up every now and then to get more snuggles in. 

That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A (this shit had me folding so fucking hard it’s not even funny. I Am Weak). 

That soft exhalation of laughter once again just because Character B is so content with having Character A in their presence, and Character A just basking in how cute that sound is and how happy it makes them. 

Character B entangling their legs with Character A’s, pressing their bodies flush against each other’s, leaving little to no space between them. (It’s almost like they can’t get enough of Character A.) 

Kissing so many times, to the point where they lose track of how many times they’ve kissed already. 

Holding hands and lacing their fingers together while they’re cuddling.

Comparing hand sizes and giggling about it together.

Character B stroking Character A’s hair while they’re asleep. (Or uh, pretends to be asleep DJSKKSKDSK but it’s so FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE DID THAT IM GONNA SCREAM, me thinking moments like these only happen in Korean dramas or some shit anfkakfksk-)

The sweet little banters in between; Character B being all cheesy and Character A playfully deflecting their comments only for Character B to playfully push back with an “Is something wrong with that?” or “But I’m not lying.”

Falling asleep in each other’s arms, both not wanting to leave the bed for the entire day and wanting to stay comfortably snuggled up against each other instead.

Character B placing their hands on Character A’s shoulders, and Character A, with a grin on their face, gently grabs Character B’s hands and wraps their arms around their neck while leaning back into them. Character B reciprocates by hugging them closer to them.

The soft noises of content Character A makes when they snuggle closer to Character B, or when they want Character B to hold them closer to them, with Character B happily obliging. 

Character B rubbing their cheek against Character A’s.

Character B trying to not wake Character A up because they look so comfortable when sleeping. (His words, not mine.) 

Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing Character A to laugh/smile against Character B’s lips.