#Vine Leaves Press

[rozmorris]

A little bit of Turn Right At The Rainbow - free short story and other pieces from Vine Leaves Press

If you follow my newsletter you’ll know that the book I’m currently working on is Turn Right At The Rainbow, the follow-up to my memoir Not Quite Lost: Travels Without A Sense of Direction. It’s a collection of adventures in a similar vein – low-key, playful, whimsical, sometimes poignant and elegaic. I’m hoping to have it ready by autumn 2025, but in the meantime, this is the first piece I’ve…

[readerviews]

"Raven's Grave" by Charlotte Stuart

A multi-layered novel crime drama fans will love. #books #bookreview #reading #readerviews

Raven’s Grave Charlotte StuartVine Leaves Press (2023)ISBN: 978-3988320223Reviewed by Tammy Ruggles for Reader Views (11/2023) “Raven’s Grave” by award-winning Charlotte Stuart is a powerful drama set against the stunning backdrop of the Alaskan wilderness. It focuses on the mysterious death of a young boy who dies in a late-night ceremony meant to heal a permanent limp. The only person…

[tender-rosiey]

I NEED SUKUNA AND HIS SHY BABY CUDDLING I BEG YOU🙏🙏

heartbound — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: loving your ideas for shy daughter fr guys (also i promise i am working on the gojo fic 🥹) also she is around like 3 years old here

sukuna is a man of destruction. a force that leaves ruin in his wake.

but now—now he is a man pinned to the floor by a bundle of warmth barely the size of his forearm.

you lean against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with amusement as your daughter clings to his chest like a particularly stubborn vine.

she is small—delicate in a way that contrasts starkly against the sheer scale of the man beneath her.

but her grip is unyielding, tiny hands fisting into the fabric of his robe as if letting go would mean losing the entire world.

sukuna glares at you, though the effect is rather muted by the tiny, sleeping body nestled against him. “say nothing.”

you press your lips together, biting back a smile. “I wasn’t going to.”

he narrows his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t argue.

instead, his attention shifts back to the little figure sprawled over him.

your daughter—his daughter—is not loud like him, not wild like him.

she does not command attention the way her father does, does not carve her presence into the world with the force of a blade.

instead, she is soft and quiet, her voice barely above a whisper, her movements timid, as if she fears being seen at all.

but for all her shyness, she clings to sukuna like he is the safest place in the world.

and he lets her.

you step closer, settling beside them on the floor. “what happened?” you ask, keeping your voice low.

sukuna exhales sharply, the rise and fall of his chest barely disturbing the little girl curled against him. “bad dream,” he mutters. “came crawling to me the second she woke up.”

a soft hum leaves your lips. “and she wouldn’t let go?”

sukuna clicks his tongue. “wouldn’t stop crying until I picked her up.”

your gaze flicks to the little face buried in his chest, the faintest trace of dried tears clinging to her lashes.

you brush a gentle hand over her back, fingers skimming the fabric of her sleeping robes.

“she must have been really scared,” you murmur.

sukuna doesn’t respond immediately, his brows furrowing slightly as he looks down at the tiny form curled against him.

one of his hands—massive in comparison—rests against her back, his claws careful not to press too hard.

a long silence stretches between you.

then, he scoffs.

“she’s too fragile.”

you arch a brow. “says the man currently being held hostage by a baby.”

his eye twitches. “she refuses to let go.”

you smile. “oh, I can see that.”

sukuna scowls at you but doesn’t move, not even when your daughter shifts slightly in her sleep, nuzzling closer with a quiet sigh.

the sound is soft—barely audible—but the way sukuna stiffens makes something in your chest ache.

your hand slides over his, fingers grazing against his knuckles. “you don’t actually mind, do you?”

sukuna exhales through his nose, his jaw working as if he wants to argue—but the weight on his chest betrays him.

his fingers twitch, then relax, his palm settling more firmly against her back.

you giggle. “I didn’t think so.”

he glares at you for that, but it lacks any real bite. instead, he shifts slightly, adjusting his grip so that your daughter’s tiny body is fully supported against him.

his other set of arms rests idly at his sides, unmoving, careful.

your daughter stirs slightly, her tiny fingers flexing against his chest before curling into a loose fist.

she shifts, tilting her face just enough for her features to be visible—round cheeks, soft lashes—as she breathes in the warmth of her father’s presence.

your heart clenches at the sight.

sukuna watches her, his gaze unreadable.

“you’re good to her,” you murmur, your fingers tracing absent patterns against the back of his hand.

his expression remains unchanged. “she’s mine.”

the words are gruff, almost dismissive—but the weight behind them is undeniable.

you hear it anyway.

your fingers curl around his wrist, squeezing gently. “she adores you, you know.”

sukuna huffs. “she clings to you just as much.”

“it’s different,” you say, smiling. “a girl’s love for her dad is different.”

sukuna says nothing more, only shifts again, his hold unconsciously tightening around her.

and then, without warning, one of his free hands reaches for you, fingers curling around your wrist before tugging you forward.

you blink, caught off guard as you suddenly find yourself pressed against his side, his arm wrapped securely around you.

his warmth envelopes you, and you don’t resist when he pulls you even closer, settling you against him.

you rest your head against his shoulder, your hand sliding up to rest against his chest, just beside where your daughter lays curled up.

she gently turns towards you, hand sleepily reaching out till she gets a hold of your kimono.

he doesn’t say anything, but his hold is steady, firm, keeping you right where he wants you.

you smile against his skin, your fingers brushing over his robe. “so, I’m yours too, then?”

a scoff, low and unimpressed. “was that ever in question?”

you huff a quiet laugh, closing your eyes as the warmth of him seeps into your skin. “no,” you murmur. “never.”

the night stretches on, the estate silent save for the soft sound of your daughter’s breathing, the steady rhythm of sukuna’s heartbeat beneath your ear.

and in that moment—beneath the weight of his family, beneath the quiet warmth of the ones who belong to him—

sukuna allows himself to stay still.

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[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Fairy x Reader PT2

PT1

PT3

warning: somno, dubcon to consensual, size difference, aphrodisiac, tentacles(?)(vines😩)

Your little fairy friend became more enamored with you as time went on. Every night he came into your home and fucked your soft, plump lips.

And recently, he had gotten brave. Tonight he flew to the middle of the bed, standing over your lower belly and peeking down at your panties.

He had been waiting for a night hot enough for you to sleep in your underwear since the blanket was too heavy to lift.

He reached out his hand and felt your damp panties, his wings fluttering in excitement as he pressed down, biting his lip when his hand met your clit.

He could tell it was your clit when your hips bucked slightly, causing him to be tossed in the air before landing on your chubby belly.

The fairy shook off the fall before returning to his task, this time sticking out his tongue to get a taste of your pussy for the first time.

Licking the damp fabric made his wings twitch, his cock rising to attention from your taste alone.

How could he go back to being a good little fairy when you were so tempting?

For the first time he, he was finally able to pull back the fabric off your pussy, revealing it to him.

It was so pretty, smelling so sweet and when he touched it, the fairy noticed how soft and wet you were.

He chittered in excitement, some of his fairy dust landing on your cunt, causing you to whimper softly in your sleep.

The fairy purred, positioning his pretty little cock at your entrance, trying so hard to fuck you. It frustrated him, not being able to fill you up and make you cry out in pleasure.

As he focused on fucking you, the opening of your eyes and shifting of you upper body went unnoticed by the little fae.

He out a squeak, his wings flapping in distress as he was picked up by his tunic, held in the air. The fairy’s face turned beet red when he spotted your sleepy face looking at him.

It looked like he had been caught.

“So you’re the one that’s been giving me wet dreams every night…”

His face turned red, and a little jingle could be heard as he shook his head and held up his hands to try and act innocent.

“Don’t lie, I caught you, you little-“

You lifted his tunic, causing him to squeak and squirm, his cock still hard and at attention.

“Here’s the proof, you’re covered in my cum…”

He whimpered when you brought him closer to your face, his pointed ears twitching as he pouted apologetically. He reached out his hand to touch your nose, hoping you wouldn’t be too angry with him.

“You should have just introduced yourself. Hmph, better than leaving me all wet and needy every night.”

The fairy nearly yelped when you poked out your tongue, touching it to his tip. “Ahh… it’s really sweet…”

He held onto your chubby cheeks as your tongue twirled around his leaking cock, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

His little hips bucked and his wings fluttered pathetically while you looked into his eyes.

You teased the poor thing, giving his flat tummy kisses and toying with his cock until he was crying and begging you through tears to give him a break. Once he had cum all he could, you sat him down on your breasts, watching as he panted and buried his head into your cleavage.

“There, is that what you wanted, little fairy?” the feeling of your finger petting his head made him coo and reach out to pull your hand closer.

The fairy was completely attached to you now, wrapping his legs around your hand and clinging to you desperately.

In the following months you and the fairy grew closer, and he was eventually able to communicate his name. It was Fern, and the fairy seemed very adamant that you know his name.

“Fern, are you coming in for lunch?”

You always called out to him through the window by the garden, and he always came flying in, hovering in front of your face and planting a kiss on your lips before settling on your shoulder to accompany you wherever you went.

Fern kept your garden alive, making sure your vegetables grew large and your fruit stayed fresh and sweet. He always came when he heard you…

But today, he hadn’t answered when you called.

You donned your coat and stepped into your shoes before walking out into the forest, calling his name ever so often.

Through rumors you had heard trolls and evil spirits lived in the forest, but before you met Fern you haven’t believed in such things. Now that you knew fairies existed, was it that much of a stretch to say evil creatures existed as well?

It made you worry that something had hurt or captured him! He had told you a few things about his people, communicating through writing. Although you knew he could take care of himself and knew the ways of the forest far better than you did, you still wanted to find him as quickly as possible.

“Fern? Are you here?”

A rustling noise to your left made you jump, and before you could reach you were being lifted up and carried away by a humanoid figure. A scream left your throat, but your mouth was quickly covered, a familiar scent making you pause.

“Shh, shh, my love. It’s just me.”

You blinked rapidly, looking up to see… Fern!?

He was nearly six feet tall now, his glimmering wings shining as he ran through the forest. The sound of trees being crushed and stomped on had gone unnoticed by you until now.

You were being chased!

“Ahh, I hadn’t expected them to be that angry…” Fern said, holding you to his chest as his wings began to flap. You caught sight of a few trolls charging towards you, their mossy, rock like bodies making easy work of the trees around them.

“Hold on tight, dear. We’ll leave for a bit until they calm down…”

He launched into the sky, his face nuzzling you softly to keep you calm as the two of you flew away just before the trolls could reach you.

“W-what did you do to make them so angry with you!?” you yelled over the wind as he dipped closer to the ground, landing in a field of flowers.

“Stole a growth potion.”

“WHAT!?”

He smiled, peppering kisses on your neck. “I had to… can’t you understand how unbearable it is being unable to properly mate with my lover?”

He set you down on a bed of flowers, and their vines tickled your body, wrapping around your legs and pulling at your underwear. “Now that my body is bigger, my control over nature is much stronger…”

The vines pulled your legs apart, keeping them spread open so he could watch the vines rub against your clit.

“F-Fern…”

Noticing your flustered expression, Fern purred in satisfaction, his wings fluttering as he lined up his cock with your tight hole, pressing on it. “Tight… might have to stretch you out…”

He pulled back, and the vines slowly pushed into your warm cunt, stretching and growing inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, whimpering while he rubbed circles into your clit.

Something was pumped into your body, making your mind grow hazy and your body hot. All that was on your mind was getting fucked stupid by these vines, taking them into your holes like a good girl…

One entered your ass, pumping in and out as it lubricated you with the aphrodisiac it produced. It was enough to have you drooling and clinging to your lover, unable to do anything but babble and beg for more.

“You can’t comprehend how badly I’ve wanted this… how much I need you…”

The feeling of his soft, lithe fingers grabbing your fat was overpowered by the vines pulling out, making you whine needily. “P-Please, fern…”

One look at your hazy eyes had his cock drooling with need.

“Shh, shh, love… I’ll fill you back up, don’t you worry…”

He cooed, his shimmering wings flapping uncontrollably as he finally pushed his cock into you, his entire body shaking. “Oh gods, oh my love..”

It was better than he could have ever imagined. You were so warm and tight, and looking down as your fat pussy swallowed his cock was enough to have him flushing red.

You looked so good, fucked out of your mind and holding onto him like a lifeline. It made home feel like a proper mate to have you in this state, dependent on him for pleasure.

“That’s it, darling, my precious flower… cum for me again, just like that…”

He pressed against your cervix, biting down on your neck. You would have never thought he was capable of this, dominating you in such a primal way.

The tables had really turned…

But he was still the sweet fairy you had come to love, burying his face into your neck and letting out the prettiest of moans, tears of pleasure pooling down his cheeks…

It was nearly nightfall when the effects of the aphrodisiac finally wore off, leaving you exhausted and a bit sore. Fern seemed tired too, but he quickly scooped you up, flying back home with you.

“I don’t have much time left before the potion wears off… and I want to spend all of the remaining time holding you…”

He settled down on the bed with you, gently brushing back your hair and kissing your forehead. It felt so good, getting to hold your plump form on his lap and grab fistfuls of your fat with his hands. Fern had wanted this for so long, yearned to touch and feel your warmth with the body of a man.

“Fern… you know I love you no matter what form you take, right?”

You caressed his cheek, leaning forward to muzzle him softly. He sighed and pulled you closer so he could rest his chin on your head.

“I know… that doesn’t mean the knowledge of being too small to give you what you need doesn’t hurt any less…”

The two of you stayed like that, curling up together in bed, too exhausted to stay sitting up.

“… I enjoyed today, Fern…”

He blushed when you kissed his cheek, your body pressed against his. “I did too… more than you could ever know.”

“We should do it again sometime…”

The two of you held hands, his eyes softening as his wings fluttered gently. “… yes…”

He couldn’t help but look at your chubby belly, knowing he’d bred you so full of his seed that it was slightly distended.

Fern began to think of ways he could make the potion more… permanent. Now that he had a taste of life as a human… he wanted more.

When you woke up the next morning, Fern was sitting on your pillow, his form returned back to that of a fairy. All you could do was hold him close, kissing the top of his head to comfort him as his wings drooped.

He wanted you… and he’d find a way to be with you…

part 3?

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! I had a request I’d like to give you. I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never slept beside anybody before bc intimacy isn’t something she’s used to therefore she’s not used to being that close to anybody. everytime she shifts she’s afraid to wake up the boys, or she just doesn’t know what to do.

I know you have “first night with marauders” so if this is too similar I totally get it. 🖤

Hello sweetheart, thank you for your request!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 990 words

You’re terrible at this. 

Each of the boys is sound asleep. Sirius has his leg hooked over yours and one of his arms tossed over James’ chest, Remus’ hand has to be halfway numb underneath your pillow, and James is snoring softly on the far side of the bed from you. They’re all so obviously comfortable, practiced in resting like this, whereas you started to get stiff a half hour ago and you’ve been unable to make yourself relax since. 

Every movement takes a year, you’re trying so hard not to wake them. You feel like the girl in a movie who’s trying to sneak out of the bed of a one-night stand, all taut muscles and bated breath, except you only want to roll over. Slow, microscopic movements have to be the key. 

Your back crackles softly when you shift your weight onto your other hip, and a sigh escapes you before you can stop it. 

A low, croaky hum comes from just in front of your face. Your brain is a tempest of expletives. 

“Hey.” You can nearly feel the gravel of Remus’ voice buzzing against your lips. “You’re up.” 

Muddled with sleep, you can’t tell if his tone is reprimanding or simply observational. “Sorry,” you whisper regardless. 

“Wha’ for?” Movement under the pillow beneath your head, and then a long-fingered hand is nestling beneath your cheek. His scars and calluses slide familiarly over your skin. “Can’t sleep?”

Nope, and now it’s two of you. Guilt grows vines around your ribcage. Remus sounds more awake by the second. 

“I’ll be okay.” You press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, hoping to mollify him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Your boyfriend makes a half-aware disgruntled sound. “No, not without you.” 

As exhausted as you are, you have to bite down on a smile. When he’s uninhibited like this, Remus really is quite the flirt, all his dorky, sweet thoughts coming out before he can remember to stop them. He’s nearly as bad as James. 

You think he must see a hint of your smile in the dark, because Remus’ own lips tilt upwards. He leans closer to kiss the cool skin of your cheek, the only cold part of you thanks to a heavy duvet and the body heat of three lovely boyfriends. A kiss for a kiss. 

He leaves his lips there as he murmurs, “What’s wrong, dove?” 

Well, funny he should ask. What’s wrong now is the slight tickle of his stubble against your cheek, the hoarse quality to his voice in your ear. His breath warming your cold skin, and the hand he slides across the space between you to rest on your hip, layered in between the sheets and your pajama bottoms. 

But you know that’s not what he’s asking. 

“I can’t get very comfortable,” you confess, speaking so softly he wouldn’t be able to make it out if his ear weren’t two inches from your lips, “and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” 

Remus hums, as though this is a prognosis he’d already reached and was merely waiting for you to confirm. You can hear Sirius’ voice as clearly as if he were awake: know it all. 

“They can sleep through anything,” he says. “One time the fire alarm went off, and James didn’t even stir. Don’t worry about them.” You must be emanating guilt, because he strokes his thumb over your hip pacifyingly. “And I don’t mind being woken up. I’m in and out of sleep all night anyway, it’s not hard for me to get back. You’re not used to sleeping with so many people, yeah?” 

Your face warms at his phrasing, though of course you know what he means. “Or with anyone,” you murmur. 

“Mm. I think I know what you need.” 

You don’t realize Remus’ plan until he’s already sat up. He reaches over you, rubbing James’ shoulder gently while you protest vehemently through whispers. 

James wakes with a yawn, taking Remus’ hand automatically and bringing it close to his face. “Wha’s’it?”

“Take her,” Remus requests drowsily. With his other hand, he nudges you forward. 

James starts to blink his eyes open, and you see no way out. You start climbing over Sirius as delicately as you can. “Sorry,” you whisper, to him, to them, to the room in general. 

Remus helps you out by tugging Sirius into your place. The other boy whines but settles quickly, rolling over to sling his leg over Remus’ instead. 

James welcomes you as heartily as his sleep-addled state will allow, adjusting the covers over you and smudging a few toothpaste-scented kisses onto your face. 

“Y’can’t sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Sorry.” 

He makes a soft dismissive sound. “C’mere, angel.” 

You refrain from telling him that you’re already here as his arms find their way around you, soft and firm in all the right places and deliciously warm. He starts to make slow, sweeping circles onto your back with his hand. 

“Jamie,” you murmur, grateful but embarrassed, “don’t stay up for me. Go to sleep.” 

“M’basically there,” he replies. “You first, yeah?” 

You can hear Remus’ breathing evening out behind you, syncing with Sirius’, and you’re suddenly sure that this is part of a routine he and the boys shared before you ever met them. That’s how he knew to hand you off to James, and how James knew exactly what to do. Something about that comforts you. And far be it for you to mess with tradition. 

You shuffle closer to James under the covers. He obliges you happily, adjusting his grip so he’s holding you more securely, with your leg resting against his and your forehead an inch from his nose. The shushing of his heavy palm on the material of your pajama top is the only sound in the world. 

You hear his breathing starting to deepen again, but James is right; you beat him there. 

[reignpage]

College student!Sukuna

9:35am: what's the rush?

warnings: 18+ mdni, possessiveness, masturbation, groping, coercion, panty sniffing/fucking, threats, teasing, edging, exhibitionism, established relationship

college student!sukuna is not a morning person. your boyfriend never has been; not even when he was just that guy who was a friend of a friend. and he reminds you of this fact every time you’re snapped from deep sleep by that obnoxious alarm clock. 

for reasons that elude you, that shrill beep beep beep never wakes him up. but the slightest movement from you, as you drag your drowsy body from the bed, has his arm darting across and wrapping itself around your waist, before you’re being pulled to his side. 

mornings are always a struggle with college student!sukuna who seems to have personal beef with the sun. his classes are all in the afternoon, he goes to the gym at night, and his refusal to attend any and all basketball training in the mornings led to training being moved to a time convenient to him. that’s how it works with your pink-haired boyfriend.

what he wants, he gets. 

and right now, what he wants is to sink his cock into you.

you’re trying to leave, gulping down as much coffee as you can whilst you pack your backpack and slip on your shoes, but college student!sukuna is making it so very difficult for you. 

“‘kunaaaa,” you whined, “i’m gonna be late. again.”

college student!sukuna has draped himself over you, clad only in black boxers, bare torso pressing warmth into your back, he nestles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your shampoo. you know what this meant; the man is only ever touchy and pathetic when he’s horny. to an outsider, the view might be innocent — a cuddly boyfriend loving up on his beloved girlfriend before she leaves. sharing sweet hugs and kisses in the morning and wishing you well. 

but that isn’t how college student!sukuna rolls. never has been. he isn’t ‘sappy’ (his words), isn’t a hormonal teenager who can’t regulate his urges —not anymore — and he certainly isn’t so pussy-whipped he’d ever beg for time and attention. he’s a big boy, after all. 

that’s what he wants you to think.

well, you know better. the only thing big about him is his body, tall and muscular with the biggest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being completely dominated by. 

and ccollege student!sukuna is grinding said cock into your ass, ignoring your hissing and cursing. he’s making you spill coffee over yourself with the way he’s wrapping his arms around your body like unforgiving vines, tightening and loosening in time with the pulsing between your legs, groping and pinching where ever he pleases.

he’s so good at the art of persuasion. you hate that you can’t resist him and you hate even more, practically loathe, that he knows that. 

“stay, baby, fuck that dumbass class. y’ hate that professor anyways.”

you stifle a moan when his large hand paws at your tit, kneading just how you like it, firm but gentle, unforgiving but loving. that’s how it always is with college student!sukuna. he fucks hard, fast and rough. he uses, dominates, and takes and takes for his own pleasure, finding a sick satisfaction in seeing you at your absolute weakest. 

college student!sukuna is never satisfied with a quickie, he isn’t crude; he views sex as an art form, places it on a higher plane, worships it as his own religion. he takes his time pushing you to the very edge and dragging you back till you’re out of breath, heaving for air, and fumbling for grip. doesn’t stop until your eyes are perpetually rolled back, till his back is stinging from your claw marks, and until everything is downright filthy and obscene.

and sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he takes you both further. 

that’s precisely why you are wriggling your way out of his grip and fixing him with an unyielding glare. you can’t afford to miss any more classes and especially not because of dick (even if that dick is really really good, and definitely not when that dick is a cocky piece of shit). 

so, you stand your ground and ignore the warmth pooling in your panties. college student!sukuna is glaring right back, muscles in that tattooed torso rippling as he flexes like he’s torn between listening to you or to his dick. and when he throws a tsk at you, you know he’s doing the former. which shocks you to the point you’re stuttering. 

wow, he’s actually behaving. 

maybe it’s cause he sees that determination in your eyes, understands your passion for academia, and respects your ambitions. maybe it’s that very spirit that pulled, and continues to pull, him to you. that thought makes your heart flutter. he’s being such a good boy, and good boys must be rewarded, right?

college student!sukuna is boring a hole in the ceiling with his hatred for the education system and he’s muttering a sarcastic ‘see ya later’ when his vision is suddenly obscured and the most tantalising scent overwhelms him. it’s familiar and addictive, the kind of scent he had spent months wishing he could bottle. 

you had thrown your panties at him. 

“this shit gets you off, right?”

giggling at how he’s pressing that panty closer to his nose with one hand and rubbing a palm up and down his clothed cock without so much as another glance at your retreating form, you hike your bag over your shoulder and open the door. and before you leave, you can’t help but push your luck even more.

“be a good little puppy and lick it clean, ‘kay, ‘kunaaa?”

you know by the ‘fuck you’ that follows you out, and the deep groan echoing into the hallway, that college student!sukuna is gonna make you eat your words later. but you allow a sense of victory to carry you to class, and encourage that feeling to bloom when, as soon as you sit down, you receive a picture of ripped up panties painted with his promise for revenge and a text comes not even a second later. 

“you be a good little puppy and lick this clean.”

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[neuvilyney]

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ how/when they first realized that they're in love with you ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ft. Tighnari, Wanderer, and Xiao

★ I can't remember if this was a request or not, but I found this draft from last June and I couldn't let it go to waste, so here's this! :D

★ No content warnings that I can think about. Just fluff and the boys not knowing how to cope with catching feels lmao

𝗧𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶 " 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 "

★ Tighnari is extremely in tune with himself: this includes his feelings, his body, and his thoughts. And yet, he finds that around you, everything gets mixed up into one big puddle of goo. Whenever you weren’t watching, his observant eyes were trained on you. He’d analyze you like a foreign species of flora, trying to pick apart what about you made his heart pound in his ears, what made him stutter and blush like a lovesick teenager, what caused the ache in his chest whenever you weren’t nearby. He’s considered the thought of having a crush on you, but each time, he’d simply brush it off as a hormone imbalance or try to rationalize it as a perfectly normal reaction. 

★ Realizing his love for you felt like a double take. “Oh.” and then “Oh.” It’s a split second that changes his entire perspective, and it hits him in the most random of times. He could be pressing flowers and then smile at the realization that those were your favorite flowers. Or maybe he’s jotting down notes and finds himself writing a few letters the same way you do. It could even be something as small as looking up at the sky and wondering if you saw the same shape in the clouds that he did.

★ Once he realizes he’s in love with you, everything makes sense. The puddle of goo slowly melts away and everything feels okay again, and the clarity of everything hits him like a truck. He needs to say something. Tighnari is a man of action. He thinks before he speaks, but he speaks before you can think. He’d take a moment to think about what he would say, but then he’s standing right in front of you with rosy cheeks and a determined look on his face. And then finally, he’d say those three special words to you--

- 𖦹 -

“You’re a pain.” Tighnari couldn’t help but sigh as he crossed his arms, looking at you up and down with a tired expression. Yet, a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched you struggle with a particularly invasive type of vine. You’re tangled in it like a bug in a spiderweb, a defeated look on your face as you hang limply from the vines. 

You groan, crossing your arms as you glare at him. The sight of him looking at you so smugly made you want to slap him and possibly kiss him. Maybe not in that order though. “I am no such thing! I’m just-- ugh…” The vines dug into your skin as they held you by your ankle, and you sighed in defeat before reaching out to him. His fluffy ears twitched with delight at the way you frowned so adorably, and he swiftly used an arrow to cut the vine, catching you when you fell. However, he clearly didn't think this through all the way. As he held you, watching your expression shift from relief to shock to a mixture of embarrassment and bashfulness, his own eyes widened and a warm blush spread over his cheeks, his fluffy ears twitching whilst his tanned skin continued to redden.

Oh.

Oh.

Tighnari was dead silent when he put you down, and he briskly turned around before starting to walk away. “Wait! Don’t just leave me here!” You sighed, starting to swiftly follow him, doing your best to ignore the way your heart pounded. The walk back was painfully awkward, your attempts at conversation followed by dry responses if a response at all. And eventually, you had enough! The way he refused to meet your gaze, how his hands clenched at his sides just to make sure they didn’t touch yours, he was avoiding you like the plague despite being right beside you. And so, you pivoted on your heel until you stood right before him.

“Okay, what’s with you? Ever since the vine thing, you’re acting like I did something wrong! Did…did I do something wrong?” Your confused and hurt expression made his heart ache, and Tighnari couldn’t help but shake his head fervently-- the way his ears bounced with each movement would have been adorable had it not been for the hurt you felt. Tighnari’s cheeks blushed a soft red, his multicolored eyes trained on you in a serious manner. It looked like he was about to scold you, with his serious frown and crossed arms, so you mentally prepared yourself for yet another lecture. 

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong. Well, getting tangled in the vines was rather stupid,” You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to say it wasn’t your fault, but he continued regardless. “But, I’m grateful you did. Had it not been for your adorably clumsy nature, I would not have had the chance to catch you in my arms.” As your eyes widened, a small smirk tugged at his lips and he took a step towards you. “And if I hadn’t held you so close, I don’t think I would have realized this just yet.” Tighnari seemed to trail off on this annoying cliffhanger, and you sighed before looking up at him. 

“...Realized what?” As if he’d been waiting for you to ask, he leaned close- close enough that his hair tickled your nose and his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered:

“That you have me foolishly, hopelessly smitten.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝗪𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿 " 𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶 "

★ It took him ages to realize he loved you. No seriously, it would take years. Some part of him knew you were special, but he could never figure out why. Was it the way your smile made him anxious? Or perhaps the way your voice made his face heat up with-... with rage? Maybe it was the way every little thing reminded him of you, like an annoying bug that wouldn’t go away. Yet, he found that none of these things were actually…bad. He loved your smile, the way it made his artificial heart race. He adored your voice, the way it made him blush so heavily. And he absolutely loved the way everything reminded him of you, like some part of you was always with him. It took him a while to realize he did actually like you, and not hate you. And then after that, it took even longer to realize he loved you.

★ Realizing he was in love with you felt like a nightmare. It was a panic, a moment of weakness. Him? Love? Please, what a sick joke. Yet…after the panic subsided, he found his heart reaching out to you who he adored so dearly. You would understand, wouldn’t you? Surely you, who had the patience of a mother, would understand his pathetic feelings? Or would you turn him away, and leave him behind yet again? He’d spend days agonizing over the what if’s though he tried not to. He was too prideful to admit someone like you could reduce him to a total mess. The amount of questions circling his brain only served to make him angrier, and he swallowed back his fears for just long enough to shout a very upset sounding “I THINK I LOVE YOU.” Honestly, it almost sounded like he was cursing at you.

★ In summary, Wanderer is an emotional mess. His hundreds of years alive have been dedicated to anything but his feelings. He was destined for something greater than human emotions in his mind. However, when he sees the way your face shifts from shock to a relieved happiness, he realized maybe this was his destiny all along. Maybe loving you, who made him truly feel, was the divine purpose he was meant for all along.

- 𖦹 -

A chill ran down your spine for the fifth time in the past few minutes, and your eyes awkwardly shifted to the ground. He has been staring at you for a creepy amount of time, but it wasn’t his usual glare- and somehow, that only serves to make you more nervous. You gulped thickly, drumming your fingers over your arm before your head snapped to him, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, what is it?” In response, Wanderer simply shrugged. Gods, he could be so infuriating. You could feel your eyebrow twitch as you gritted your teeth, resting a hand on your hip. “I see, so you’ve been staring at me for five minutes just for fun?” Once again, he shrugged. The faintest shade of red dusted the tips of his ears, and his hands limply rested in the pockets of his shorts. You could see the way he turned his head, hiding it behind his intricately-detailed hat. The sight of his blushed ears made your eyes narrow, and you reached out to grab his wrist- causing him to let out a curse. Finally, a reaction!

Wanderer looked down at your hand on his wrist, and then back up at you. And then down to his wrist before he tugged his hand away. Though, he found that he quickly missed the feeling of your soft hand warming his cold skin. The way his hand subconsciously reached out to hold yours once more made him scoff and he shoved his hand back in his pocket, quickly looking away. “What’s the big idea, huh?” His indigo eyes crinkled when he snarled, but a certain glitter swirled within them that made you smile knowingly. Wanderer leaned forward, flicking your forehead when you didn’t respond. He did this a lot, and always smiled at the way you yelped and/or pouted. But this time, his smile wasn’t mocking or amused, but oddly…endearing? 

“You’ve only insulted me three times today!! Come on, we both know something’s up.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms- and you didn’t miss the way he mirrored your expression.

He sighed, shaking his head before looking up at you. “You really wanna know? Really?” His arms crossed as his wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face, but even through the dark, you could see a blush begin to coat his pale cheeks. When you nodded, he sighed again, leaning close to you. “You’re making my head do weird shit and I don’t like it one bit.” Your confused expression made him groan as he tried to explain further. “Come on, don’t play stupid!! I keep having these…gross and cheesy thoughts about you whenever you get close. And the way you smile…it makes me…happy.” He spoke the word with such disgust, it almost made you laugh. “When I see your hand, I want to crush- no, hold it���” The more he spoke, the more those dark eyes softened until they were nothing more than pools of indigo honey. But sadly, he snapped out of it, growling in frustration and grabbing your shoulders. “S--So what’re you doing to me, huh?! What, are you some kind of witch? Do you enjoy making me feel this weird?!”

The more you processed his words, the more you smiled. Slowly, your head tilted to the side and you laughed, shaking your head when his blush only worsened. “Wanderer…do you lik--” He quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut before shouting-

“I THINK I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU OR SOMETHING, OKAY?!”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 '𝗔𝗹𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀'

★ Realizing his love for you felt like a insult. He figured that his romantic feelings towards you were just…a glitch in the matrix. There was something about you that made his heart do backflips, and he did not like it. And so, he avoided you like the plague. But, distance makes the heart grow fonder after all. With each moment that passed without you beside him, he only felt lonelier. Even despite his eons of solitude, a mere moment without you felt like another thousand years. And so, one lonely night, you call out his name. And there he is, red faced and wide eyed, standing before your teary eyes.

★ He didn’t want to admit he was in love with you. Could he, The Conqueror of Demons, feel something as human as…love? Did he even deserve to? And so, the mere thought of falling in love with you felt almost insulting to him. It was a shock, something that almost angered him. He shouldn’t feel these things! But…if it wasn’t meant to be, then why does he like it? Why does he love the way his face heats up when you smile up at him? Why does he love the way you make him blush and laugh like a fool? Why does he love the way he loves you? Ultimately, he decides these questions are futile. Slowly, his feeling of betrayal and offense morphed into a feeling of fondness. And even slower, he’d finally brush the dust off of the lonely heart he’d safely sealed away behind the armor of his ribs. 

★ He didn’t want to tell you at first. He didn’t know how to tell you. Despite that, after the realization of his feelings, he just couldn’t wait! He felt like an impatient child, bouncing on his feet and biting the insides of his cheeks. But, when you rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder at the sight of his pensive face, he knew it would all be okay. As you gave him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen, he understood his feelings for the first time. For Xiao, falling in love with you was a confusing, terrifying process full of heartache and betrayal. But, loving you? God, it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. 

- 𖦹 - 

You’ve never seen him so anxious before. It was oddly unsettling, to be honest. Watching him shift his gaze every few seconds like a guilty child, the way his fingers fiddled with the material of his pants, even his scowl looked more like a nervous frown. Slowly, you set your pencil down, looking up at him with a concerned gaze from where you watched him pace around the inn. “Xiao, are you oka-”

“YES.”

You deadpanned for a moment, wanting to be amused at his immediate answer that contradicted his expression of pure nerves. Instead, you were only more worried. Slowly, your hands pushed against the table to prop you up and your shoes glided over the wooden floor before you were an arm’s length away from him. Xiao sighed slowly, resting his hands on the sill of the balcony with his head tilted away from you. This is a common occurrence for the both of you. Standing on the balcony, resting on it while watching the sun set. It was calming for both of you, but also made it much easier to discuss feelings neither of you liked. Past memories, traumas, bad days, any and all of it. But this…this was different.

“...No, I’m not.” Ah, there it is. Xiao’s eyes averted from yours, trained on the sky above the both of you as his hands gripped at the wooden sill. Patiently, you watched him, awaiting his next words. He was tense, and in all the time you’ve known him, you hadn’t seen him this afraid since the fall of Rex Lapis. Slowly, his head tilts to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide, glimmering in the fading sunlight while his pale skin carried a rosy tint that reached all the way to his elven ears. 

You smiled gently, reaching over to pat his shoulder- he still tensed, but it was nothing like before. He wasn’t one to let people touch him. Not even you, not at first. He would flinch, shove your hand away, and move from you- always the same actions in different orders. But, over time, he started to relax under your touch. This time was no different as he let out a small sigh.

“There’s something bothering me.” Xiao spoke slowly, his voice gruff and low but also hesitant. “I feel…weird around you. I’ve heard of these feelings in those stories told by Liyuen romantics, how one’s heart flutters around those they…love. But I’m not…capable of that.” He continued on this spiel, and your eyes widened at the way he indirectly confessed to you. But, even as a wobbly smile overtook your lips, you remained quiet. “I’m a Yaksha, an adepti, I-I can’t feel something like this. And yet, I am. I am, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

Xiao groaned, raking a hand through his hair before he turned to you, a small frown on his lips when you rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. You hummed softly, scooting closer before resting a head on his shoulder. “I feel the same way, Xiao. You may be an adeptus, but you still experience human emotions. Feelings confuse all of us, even adepti like you and humans like me. But, there’s no need to be afraid of them.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, letting your eyes flutter shut as his hand shakily reaches over to hold yours. He sucks in a quick breath, letting out a slow exhale before whispering:

“In that case…I think I’m in love with you.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Word Count: 2907

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Ky♡♡

[heartlogan]

all coming back to me

✮— logan x f!reader (set in x-men days of future past)

✮— summary: logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows.

✮— a/n: first time writing for logan / the xmen films, be gentle pls. also wrote this in like 20 mins at 1am so kindness pls. ok goodnight.

✮— warnings: character death, major character death, (mentioned mostly, not the most graphic depictions), logan’s relentless guilt, reader’s insensitive curiosity, muddled timeline maybe idk, mutant reader (unmentioned power) , kind of abrupt ending , lmk if there’s more!

MASTERLIST

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

When Logan had realised he was the only viable candidate to do this job, he had felt the immense weight on his shoulders, had known that he had no choice but to succeed. He had been prepared for that part, mostly. But even still, the plan was sudden, and he hadn’t thought most things through. After all, Logan was more of a fight now, think later type of guy.

So waking up in some random woman’s waterbed was unexpected, yes, but even more unexpected was the bone cutting through his skin when he had to face those goons. It had been so long since the adamantium had been melded to his skeleton, that he could almost forget it hadn’t always been that way. If it weren’t for the pain that still haunted his every nightmare, that was.

It was an adjustment, definitely, especially because it had been so long since he hadn’t felt completely indestructible — untouchable. There was no metal safety net, here.

Seeing Xavier’s school falling apart was certainly an adjustment, too.

He had known this school only in its prime, when Charles had already formed the X-Men, had already settled many kids into their new home. Logan couldn’t ever imagine this place being so devoid of life.

“Can I help you?” A young man asked, after a few silent moments of Logan waiting for the door to be answered. He sounded vaguely familiar.

“Uh… yeah, what happened to the school?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised as his eyes trailed over the vines crawling up the building, the dust coating the glass.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Logan strangely before he decided to speak. “The school’s been shut for years. Are you a parent?”

Logan scoffed. “I sure as hell hope not. Who are you?”

“I’m Hank. Hank McCoy. I look after the house now.”

He’s doing a great job at that, Logan thought to himself, surveying the damaged grounds, before he clocked on to what the man had introduced himself as. He squinted at the small stature of the guy, half hidden by the door he was pressing himself into the gap of.

“You’re Beast? Look at you,” Logan commented idly, “Guess you’re a late bloomer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank warned, features hardening instantly at the name he hadn’t heard for a long time. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man started closing the door in Logan’s face, not expecting him to shove himself against it, keeping it open. They strained, muscles tensing on both sides, before Logan inevitably won without Hank’s extra strength that accompanied his transformation.

“Where’s the professor?”

“There’s no professor here.” Hank responded, before Logan soon managed to shove the door open, flinging him back.

“Professor!” Logan yelled into the empty house, hearing his voice rebound off of the walls. The echoing made him uncomfortable, and seeing the house that had been destroyed so long ago in his time was odd. It was familiar, and yet so different. Logan wasn’t sure he could ever get used to the empty manor, despite his many complaints about the kids at the school.

The moment Logan began to ascend the stairs of the manor, Hank leapt at him, freshly transformed. Logan was momentarily shocked by the appearance of his blue fur, but he quickly got over it, defending himself from Hank’s admittedly rather weak attack. The Beast managed to stun him, tackling him onto a table in the middle of the foyer, while the blue man hung from the chandelier above.

“Hank?” A voice called out, confused and slightly concerned. “What’s going on here?” He asked, descending the stairs and squinting down at the vaguely familiar man on top of his table.

“Professor?” Logan asked, surprised, sitting up on the table to make sure he was seeing things right.

“He doesn’t like to be called that.” A new voice said, coming from Logan’s left, and he startled, head whipping towards where you were standing. You were leant against the doorway, arms folded across your chest as you watched the situation unfold with unhidden entertainment.

His heart practically stops.

He hadn’t seen you for almost three years. Three very long, very difficult years.

Logan didn’t even want to think about the last time he had seen you. It had been one of the worst days of his life to date, and he’d had a lot of bad days. And yet, here you were, alive. Trying to tamp down your amusement, though it was written clearly on your face, evident in the slight curve of a smile that he had missed.

“You know this guy?” Hank asked Charles, who made his way down the rest of the stairs while Logan only continued to stare at you.

Charles looked at Logan with a vague sense of recognition. “Yeah, he looks slightly familiar.” He commented distantly, already appearing completely checked out of the situation. “Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.”

The sound of the glass above him clinking together brought Logan to his senses, reminded him that he had a job to do. And no matter how much he had missed you, your presence couldn’t get in the way of that.

“You can walk.” Logan stated, checking back into the conversation with shock still darting down his spine. He watched the Professor carefully, brows furrowed in thought.

“And you’re perceptive.” Charles replied dryly, “Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I’m going to have to ask him to ask you to leave.” He said, nodding towards Hank who stared between the two men as if watching some sort of tennis match. He looked uncomfortable with the confrontation occurring. “Or her, if you’re more inclined.”

You raised your brows.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Logan didn’t end up leaving, much to your surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had managed to get Charles to do anything he didn’t want to do. Hell, it had been a long time since anyone had managed to speak to the man, save for you and Hank. He turned everybody away, never heard anyone out, no matter how desperate they sounded.

Instead, Charles seemed to accept the fact that this man was from the future. A future which sounded dire, by the way.

And if his glance towards you when he had spoken about watching good people, friends, die, told you anything, it was that you didn’t make it very far in the future. Which didn’t faze you all too much. It didn’t sound like much of a future for those who lived, anyway. But that knowledge had taught you something about this Logan. He had cared for you, some years from now.

It was as clear as day. He looked at you like he had been missing you, like he was greeting you at the airport after a long trip. He seemed to think he was being discreet about it, always glancing away when you turned to him, but you were observant.

You sidled up next to him while Hank went on the hunt for the phone book, and Charles wandered off to regret his decision.

“So, how’d I die?” You asked, feeling bad but also slightly amused when Logan practically choked on air.

“What? How did you—”

“Oh, please. It’s all over your face. I may not know you, but I can see that much.” You responded, cutting him off and watching the cogs turn in his head.

You had always had a strange way of reading him better than anyone else. Not that this version of you knew that, but Logan did. It made his chest ache all the more, feeling like you were so close to being in his grasp, and yet so far away from him. He had to remind himself that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t exactly know this version of you.

You seemed… not happier, exactly, but something was different. Perhaps you had suffered less at this point in your life. He had met you in one of the most difficult times you had ever been through, and it was strange to see you without the baggage that had followed you from that.

“I’m that transparent, huh?” He replied, going quiet soon after. He didn’t want to talk about this with you. With anyone. He didn’t want to relive that moment any more than he already did. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, every time the Sentinels had approached in the future.

“You are.” You paused. “So? What happened?”

“You don’t want to know about this, kid.” Logan stated, pointedly not looking at you. You were so young now, and he missed the lines on your face. This wasn’t the you that he knew or loved. He didn’t know this version of you. And you certainly didn’t know him.

Logan had the fate of the world resting on his shoulders, the fate of every mutant and human who had the decency to be kind towards them. Your fate. The fate of everyone else he had lost. He couldn’t get caught up in this, in seeing you here, as much as he wanted to soak in the sound of your voice, the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin.

“Why not? We’re going to save the world anyway. It can’t hurt.” You said innocently, regretting the latter part of your statement the moment you realised how it came across, how Logan’s face creased.

He wanted to appreciate your optimism, mostly because he knew how much of it you had lost by the time you died, but you couldn’t understand. It did hurt. Logan had watched you die in front of his very eyes, his adamantium and courage powerless to stop it. He had been dragged back to the jet, forced to leave your body there to rot, or to be taken and experimented on. He didn’t know which was worse.

Even now, he could feel the pressure on his chest from Storm pushing against him, the pain of Magneto pulling at his skeleton, forcing him to leave you behind.

He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, eyes flickered across the room, never quite landing on you. It hurt him every day. He could feel the weight of your loss even now, knowing that if he failed to do this, you were lost. This version of you, the one who had so much suffering to come, would die at the hands of a Sentinel, and he would be powerless to stop it.

“Sorry,” You said, when the silence stretched on, Logan seemingly getting lost in his own thoughts. You could see the pain written across his face, could see him getting distant, reliving whatever had happened in the future. “That was insensitive. I was curious, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here to save us all. And I’m here to help this time.”

He finally looked at you, and you could see the exhaustion on his face. Perhaps putting more pressure on him wasn’t the best idea.

“Okay, I’m messing this up,” You admittedly, fidgeting nervously now, eyes flickering between him and the door as if expecting Charles or Hank to walk in on you embarrassing yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Logan paused, apparently trying to find his words. “You don’t need t’be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

You looked at him, seeing him more clearly then. You didn’t know his past, and you certainly didn’t know the future, but this man cared about you. That much was obvious. “It’s not yours either, you know.” You said, and the slight grimace he made didn’t escape you. He clearly didn’t agree. “However we know each other in the future, it can’t change the fact that I am an adult. I would never expect you to take responsibility for me dying. Or want you to! I take care of myself.”

He blinked at you. “We were meant to take care of each other.”

You faltered slightly at that, struggling to imagine yourself relying on someone that much, but then you understood.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? You’re here, fifty years into the past, trying to make things right. The war wasn’t your fault, Logan.”

Despite knowing that was true, it still didn’t quite dislodge the guilt that pulsed in his chest. He felt more vulnerable here, without his adamantium. With your prying eyes. Even now, it appeared that you saw him in a way nobody else ever could.

“You know what? This might be totally inappropriate, but…” You trailed off, and he had just opened his mouth to question you when suddenly you were wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing him close in a way that finally let him breathe again.

His hands hung idly by his sides for a few moments, before finally wrapping around you, holding you tight. He seemed as though he may never let you go, but you could understand that. Logan was in pain, and it seemed that despite your slight uncertainty, this had been a good path to go down. Taking care of one another, or something like that, right?

A heavy sigh left his chest, and you squeezed him tighter, letting out a short breath into his neck. You only pulled away when you heard Hank’s footsteps creaking on the aged floorboards, heading your way. Logan let you go, with much reluctance, but you lingered. Your arm brushed against his jacket.

If Hank noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, simply holding up the phone book victoriously. You glanced at Logan, watching the creases slowly come back to his face as he was reminded of his burden once more. You leaned against him the slightest bit, and pretended not to notice him glance at you.

This would all work out, you were certain of it. And if it didn’t, well, at the very least there was something to look forward to in that bleak future. Logan seemed worth the pain.

[readerviews]

"Two for the Money" by Steve Zettler

A 90s thriller with a noir feel that consistently raises the stakes. #books #bookreview #reading #readerviews

Two for the Money Steve ZettlerVine Leaves Press (2023)ISBN: 978-3988320261Reviewed by Alex Ceko for Reader Views (11/2023) Good detectives are named Sam: Sam Spade, Samuel Benjamin Marlowe, and Sam Christie. “Two for the Money” by Steve Zettler is a detective thriller about a former government employee named Sam Christie. When visiting a friend’s grave in Philadelphia Christie is offered a…

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Sleepless Mischief ✞⛧

Warnings: drawing on vi, shirless vi, boobs mentioned, fluffy, domestic life with vi

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside and the steady rhythm of Vi’s breathing. You sat cross-legged on your shared bed, arms crossed as you stared down at her peaceful, oblivious form. The room was dimly lit by the small bedside lamp you’d left on, casting a warm glow over her.

She was sprawled out across the mattress, one arm thrown lazily over her head, the other resting by her side. Her bare chest rose and fell with each breath, the subtle curve of her small breasts shifting slightly as she moved in her sleep. Her tattooed shoulders and toned arms looked even softer in the dim light, the contrast between her rough edges and her serene expression making something stir in your chest.

You’d been waiting. Waiting for her to wake up. Waiting for her to give you the attention she’d promised earlier in the night. But no—Vi had decided to pass out the moment her head hit the pillow, leaving you wide awake, frustrated, and bored out of your mind.

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and glaring at her like that would somehow bring her back to consciousness. Her pink hair was a mess, splayed across the pillow in chaotic tendrils, and her mouth was parted slightly, the faintest sound of a snore escaping her every now and then. It was both adorable and infuriating.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the black sharpie sitting in the drawer of your nightstand.

You tilted your head, a small, mischievous grin tugging at the corner of your lips. She’d been teasing you all week, poking fun at you, stealing bites of your food, and purposefully walking around shirtless just to get a rise out of you. This was your chance to get a little payback.

Sliding the drawer open as quietly as possible, you grabbed the marker and turned back to her. She hadn’t budged, her chest still rising and falling in that hypnotic, steady rhythm.

“Sorry, babe,” you whispered, not that she could hear you. “You brought this on yourself.”

You uncapped the marker and leaned closer, the faint scent of her shampoo hitting you as you hovered over her. Her face was relaxed, her lips slightly parted, her freckles more noticeable under the soft light. You bit your lip to stifle a giggle as you carefully pressed the marker to her cheek and started drawing.

It began with a small heart, then a star, and before you knew it, you’d covered one side of her face in little doodles. You added a tiny mustache just under her nose for good measure, grinning at your handiwork.

Next, you moved to her arm, the one draped across her stomach. You figured they could use a few enhancements. You added a little cartoon cat to the space near her wrist and a swirl of vines wrapping around her forearm.

The temptation to push your luck grew as your eyes drifted lower, to the soft curve of her chest. Her skin was smooth and warm, her freckles trailing down from her collarbone. You hesitated for a moment, your cheeks flushing at the idea. But she had left herself completely exposed, hadn’t she?

“Payback,” you muttered, your voice barely audible as you leaned down and carefully began doodling. A sunburst here, a tiny flower there, a lollipop dangerously close to one of her pierced nipples. The marker glided across her skin easily, leaving a trail of harmless little drawings that you couldn’t help but admire.

You were so focused on your masterpiece that you didn’t notice the slight twitch of her lips or the way her breathing had shifted.

“the hell are you doing?”

Her voice was raspy and low, thick with sleep, and it made you freeze in place. You glanced up to see her squinting at you, one eye open, her lips quirking into a smirk despite the confusion written all over her face.

“Uh… nothing?” you said quickly, hiding the marker behind your back like a guilty child caught red-handed.

Vi blinked a few times, her free hand coming up to rub at her face—and smudging one of the hearts you’d drawn on her cheek. “What’s on my…” She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned. “Oh, you didn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your laughter. “I… might have.”

She groaned, sitting up and grabbing her phone from the nightstand to use as a makeshift mirror. The moment she caught sight of her reflection, her jaw dropped, and she let out a disbelieving laugh. “You drew on me?”

“You fell asleep!” you said defensively, holding up the marker. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Not this,” she said, motioning to her face, though her tone was more amused than annoyed. She glanced down at her arm, inspecting the little cat and vines you’d added. “Okay, this one’s kinda cute,” she admitted, pointing at the cat.

You grinned, your earlier guilt quickly fading. “See? You don’t hate it.”

Vi shook her head, her pink hair falling into her eyes as she leaned forward, her gaze locking onto yours. “You’re lucky I love you,” she said, her voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you as she reached for the marker in your hand. “What are you doing?” you asked, leaning back as she snatched it from you.

“Oh, you’re not getting away with this,” she said, her grin widening as she uncapped the marker and lunged toward you.

“Vi, no!” you shrieked, scrambling backward on the bed, but it was no use. She was faster, stronger, and way too determined.

She tackled you onto your back, her weight pinning you down as she hovered over you, the marker poised in her hand. “Your turn,” she said with a wicked smile.

You squirmed beneath her, laughing uncontrollably as she started drawing on your cheek, your arm, anywhere she could reach. Her touch was light and playful, and the sound of her laughter mixed with yours filled the room.

By the time she was done, you were both breathless, your sides aching from laughing so hard. Vi sat back on her heels, her chest heaving as she admired her handiwork. “There,” she said, capping the marker and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Now we’re even.”

You sat up, grabbing your phone to check your reflection. She’d drawn a cartoon version of herself on your cheek, complete with boxing gloves and a smug little smile. The rest were just random scribbles from how bad you were thrashing around under her. “Really?” you said, holding back a grin.

She shrugged, leaning back against the pillows with that cocky, self-satisfied smirk you loved so much. “Hey, I’m an artist.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was impossible to ignore. Moments like this—when she let her guard down and showed you her playful, carefree side—were what made you fall for her all over again.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek, smudging the heart you’d drawn there even further.

Vi grinned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Damn right I am.”

And as the two of you lay tangled together, your bodies marked with silly doodles and your laughter still echoing in the room, you couldn’t help but think that this—these quiet, ridiculous, perfect moments—was everything you’d ever wanted.

[lalunanymph]

💭 thinking about . . . . car sex with caleb

tw. colonel caleb x fem!reader, suggestive content, smut, mentions of angst, car sex, mentions of voyeurism, (1) mention of a bullet, cross-posted from x, 1.5k+ words

Raindrops splatter against the car window, and soft jazz fills the Lanzador’s interior. The world disappears in streaky wisps of rain running down the tinted windshields, cocooning Caleb and you in this moment. 

His hand is warm on your hip, lips moving in tender synchrony with yours. It will be a few days till you see him again, his Fleet mission taking him to the darkest parts of the Deepspace tunnel, away from the warmth of your arms for the next few weeks. 

It’s only right that you want to make this moment last—that you want to be with him in any way, shape or form before he has to leave you behind. Again. 

“Mhm,” he moans, pulling back slightly, pretty lilac eyes tipsy with arousal. “Pipsqueak… I needa leave soon—”

He says it, but can’t surgically remove himself from your lips even if he tried.

You press closer to him, leaning over the dashboard to feather kisses down his jaw. 

“Do you have to leave for so long?” You know you’re acting like a spoiled brat right now, whining and pouting to try and get your way, but it’s hard for you not to act up. You can’t admit that you’d miss him, so delaying his inevitable departure is the only thing you can do. 

And, you have to admit—you have a few ideas up your sleeve to achieve that. 

Starting with clambering over the expensive dashboard in what you sincerely hoped was a sexy straddle onto his lap. The effect doesn’t last long—not when your back accidentally digs into the steering wheel and the car honks loudly.

You jump and he chuckles, smoothly reaching under you to grab the adjustor, pushing his seat back. When you have a bit more breathing space, you flash him a sheepish grin.

“... oops.”

Caleb laughs throatily, his eyes sparkling. “You sure know how to make a splashy entrance, huh, Pipsqueak?” 

Rolling your eyes, you lean in, picking up where you left off. His lips are on yours in a matter of moments, and you kiss him like you’ve been dehydrated for decades and his lips are the only thing that can quench your thirst. He moans into the heat of your mouth, and you feel his tongue running along the seam of your lips, begging you to open up more to him. 

You part your lips, and his tongue delves right in to tangle with yours, further parching your arousal. Your hands move to smooth over his broad chest, the feeling of his smooth black turtleneck underneath your touch sends shivers down your spine. Caleb’s eyes are hazy, his cheeks red as he pulls back a little, a string of saliva connecting both your lower lips. 

“Princess,” he murmurs huskily. “What’s gotten into ya?” 

You swallow down the taste of him, licking your lips and breaking the tenuous silvery strand holding you two together. “I…” I’ll miss you. 

But, the words refuse to dislodge from your throat. It’s too vulnerable—too scary—to admit them out loud. How you’ll be counting the days till you see him again. How every waking moment will be spent worrying about him and his safety. The Deepspace tunnels are so far off and remote from everything you consider to be normal. If anything were to happen, you can’t lose him—not again. 

So, you cling onto him like a vine, hoping your presence will persuade to delay his journey for a few more moments. 

Of course, you can’t hide your true intentions from him. Caleb senses your neediness from a mile away, and he eagerly reciprocates, taking your face in his palms to tip it closer. Soft, chapped lips press onto yours again, and you melt into his touch. You shiver when his fingers dip under the hem of your blouse, a tentative question to his burning need. But, he would stop if you wanted—all he needs is an answer.

To his surprise, you lean close enough for your noses to press together. Caleb carefully slips your blouse off, and his fingers run across the expanse of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The atmosphere in the car starts to get heavier, the anticipation coiling around the both of you like a tight spring. He reaches for the lever and the seat dips lower, allowing you to straddle his body better. His dog tags gleam in the low light, shining from the defined valley of his collarbone and pecs. The sight entices you—makes you want him even more when you know he belongs to you and only you.  

Caleb peppers kisses down your neck, moving to your collarbone. He feels your body arching towards him, trying to get closer, and he can’t help but respond to your need like a moth to a flame. Your clothes melt off your body, and you’re bare on his lap, driving him close to madness with desire.

It’s a good thing he got the windows to his Lanzador tinted a few weeks ago. He would personally put a bullet through anyone who dared to ogle at you in this vulnerable state. 

This frenzy takes over him, and he can’t keep his teeth or lips far from your neck. Like the sweetest fruit of temptation, once he’s had you, he can’t get enough. 

You help him remove his turtleneck, and your hands fly to his belt buckle. It’s fast—messy. You can’t help but bite on his lower lip when you finally sink down on him, excited enough to take him without much prep. He groans and tightens his hands on your waist, pinning you there as he does most of the work.

The car frame trembles, condensation from your heated bodies fogging the windows. Your palm leaves a trail down the side window as Caleb grunts, his fingers sinking into the softness of your thigh. 

“Good girl,” he rasps, feeling your teeth in his neck. “Nghm—so good to me…”

The swaying comes to a crescendo. Sweat rivulets down your back, and the Lanzador’s AC does nothing to help with the rising heat coming to a boiling point between you and Caleb. His right hand slips in between your thighs, his fingers working their magic where you need him the most.

A squeak. A low groan. 

You’re trembling from head-to-toe, your release washing over you in waves. Warmth fills you up and you cling to him tightly, the fire in his eyes simmering to a possessive tenderness as he presses a reverent kiss to your lips. 

All is silent for a long moment. The rain is relentless, drumming against the windows, accompanying the ticking of his emergency light and the hum of the AC. 

Caleb shifts from under you as he reaches for the adjustment lever, pushing up the seat. You pout when he begins to redress you, those purple eyes glimmering with mirth. 

“Don’t look sad, princess. I promise I’ll be back,” he coaxes gently and helps you adjust your skirt. You watch with a heavy heart as he gets dressed and exits the car. Like so many times before, you walk him to the train platform, only this time, he’s not going to the DAA and he won’t be back before summer ends. He’s shooting straight to the Farspace Fleet, into the far recesses of space where you can only imagine him suspended in darkness and the whims of gravity for weeks on end.

Caleb stops in front of his platform and turns to you. His hair is still a little tousled from your earlier activities, and he reaches out to wrap an arm around your waist, drawing you closer. You feel his lips in your hair, his kiss on the side of your temple.

“Don’t look back at me, Pipsqueak, and I won’t look back, too,” he murmurs. “Go home, heat up the meal prep I made for you and don’t think about me. Not until I come back.” 

He makes it sound so easy. You want to open your mouth and argue, but he presses a finger into your cheek to stop you. His eyes are kind, if a little sad. 

“I promise when I get home, we’ll go watch that movie you’ve been dyin’ to see, okay?”

“And, get a new basil plant?” You muster enough self-control to inject a teasing tone into your question, though the both of you know it falls flat at the very last moment when all you want to do is cry.

“Yeah,” he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We’ll get a new basil plant. Some peppers, too, if you want.”

You nod, doing all you can to buy more time. But, it’s never enough. Caleb’s train approaches, and despite everything you’ve done to change his mind and make him stay on the ground, he’s always determined to push further—explore the realm between heavens and space where no man has dared to walk.

As he boards the platform, you follow his words—turn around and lower your head. To walk away before you can change your mind and charge back towards him, pleading for him to stay.

In the midst of the station’s rush, Caleb breaks his promise and turns around for one last look, following the small of your back until it disappears around the corner. 

Bittersweet longing floods his chest, but he forces himself to soldier on. 

It’s only a matter of time till he sees you again. He swears it on the bond you have, the anchor that tethers you two together.

He will always come home to you, no matter what. 

♡ feedback and reblogs are appreciated

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[allurilove]

Yanderes fairy tale AU x reader where she's been with them for a while and they see her touching herself?

I just love writing for the fantasy au.

Reject!Yandere Prince x Wife!Reader

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Reject!Yandere Prince had mud clinging onto the fabric of his pants, all the way up to his knees. The nail beds of his fingers stained with dark oxidized blood from his latest game, dirt, and sticky amber tree sap. Thick fog had nestled into the unwinding forest, effectively hiding the path he usually takes, and nothing could be seen from the horizon. The tired man had to rely on his senses to make it back home, touching the barks of the trees for the symbols he had engraved earlier from when it was bright. He could not carry a lantern--only a small lighter-- for which it would make him susceptible to the jaws of death. Many creatures and monsters would dream to sink their teeth into the flesh of a healthy muscly man, and carrying a vessel of light was one way to fulfill that fantasy.

The man feels the heavy weight on his back continue to bleed— a single droplet traveling down his arm and falls onto the ground. He heard the spirits let out a small giggle, the loose dirt starting to vibrate before it sucks in the plasma completely.

The wilderness had a taste for blood. Quite literally. Before each kill, the prince had to do a specific ritual to please the gods of nature. He made cuts into the neck of the boar, letting its blood ooze down its grey skin, and absorbed by the hungry soil. The fresh blood was the first step, and the muscle sacrifice was next. He had then carved into the animal's chest, ripping its heart out with his hand, and he buried it into the ground.

In a few weeks, a new piglet should sprout.

Reject!Yandere Prince grunted as he adjusted the position of the dead boar on his back. The ropes that held it onto him was well tied, but if he wasn’t careful, it could unravel by a simple manipulation from the spirits of the woods. He continued his way back home, holding his breath as his feet had stepped onto fallen leaves. The little crunches were enough to trigger the birds from above and announce his presence. The Reject ran as fast as he could, only able to briefly touch the trees to help with his navigation, and he could feel the ground shake and tremor.

Deep hidden roots shot up from the ground. His ankle twists, and the prince fell face first. “Fuck,” he instinctively reached for the weapon by his hip. The vines and nearby plants quickly wrapped their tendrils around his legs— their thorns digging into his calf and up his thigh. He then let out a guttural scream deep from his throat.

His fumbling hands pulled out his scythe and a small lighter, wielding both in a desperate attempt to escape. The tiny flame caused the vine to shriek, shriveling up into a burnt coil. It unraveled from his ankles, retreating in pain, and left him panting on the ground with blood welling up in his puncture wounds.

Oh…the things he goes through just to feed you.

—★

He made it back home in one piece. After that encounter, the forest had gone back to its normal state of spookiness. The dead animal had flopped onto the floor with a thud, prince yandere’s footsteps just as heavy when he dragged his body to the bedroom door. He closed his eyes, and as he sighed, his forehead pressed against the oak wood. The Reject’s hand held onto the brass knob, he was about to twist it open, until he heard a small and muffled whimper.

You sounded weak— breathless even.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. “Are you all right in there?” he whispered, keeping his voice low incase the monster was lurking nearby. His hand then reached for the scythe by his side, and he gripped the handle as he readied himself to attack.

When you didn’t respond— he finally pushed the door open. To your knowledge, your husband should be out for another couple of hours. Hunting took forever in these woods, and sometimes he would come back with empty hands. You were too busy taking care of your aching needs to notice that your husband had entered the bedroom. Your husband halted at the sight of your compromising position, noticing how exposed you were with your dusty rose nightgown that was bunched up by your hips. One of your hands fondling were your soft breast, pinching and pulling at the nipple to get it taut, and the other had slipped underneath your panties and was by your core. Your legs were far apart, and that glistening sweet cunt of yours had caught his eyes immediately.

Reject!Yandere Prince would have never thought that his wife would resort to such desperate measures. He was sure he had made it clear: you must wait for him at all times. Yet, he supposed it made sense—you weren't as strong-willed as he was, after all. Still, even a disciplined man like him couldn’t resist the sinful pleasures of the flesh. He hated how easily his body could succumb to temptation. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the blood rushing south, he dropped his weapon, his feet carrying him toward you.

He stayed silent when his knees rests on the bed, his eyes raking over your bashful form. You had tried to hide your lower body, but his rough hands grabbed onto your thighs. He painfully squeezed them—a wordless reminder to keep them spread apart for him.

“So, this is what you were doing while I was gone.” The man's voice rough and curt, finally breaking the silence. His gaze not once looking at your face, but at your wet, and beautifully alluring kitty. It’s hypnotic, even. Calling his name. Calling for his cock and attention. He can’t tear his gaze away.

His thumb experimentally grazed over the damp fabric lightly, feeling your sticky folds. Your husband forgot all about his bleeding leg, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit. “I risk my life for us—to put food on the table. You order me around, make me do the backbreaking labor, and send me to fetch whatever you want from the market. But maybe—just maybe—it’s all worth it if I can come home to a sight like this every night.”

“I’ll happily be your dog,” his mouth lowered towards your cunt, and his tongue snaked out to tease at your entrance.

“As long as I can get a taste.”

Allure: Reject yandere prince is actually nicer than regular ol’ yandere prince. he just needed to get shunned by his family and have near death experiences on the reg ig. It’s also like 1 am where i live and idk this has been in my drafts for a while and I finally got it done! If there’s like mistakes i’ll fix em later!

[emacrow]

Raven found a Feral Farshee and saved a town

Teen Titans got an alert for another candidate from titans east only the signal led to a broken titan in the middle of a dark foggy and scary woods in the middle of Illinois that seems to be causing the other to hallucinations and get lost.

Raven seems to be the only one immune to this as the teen titans got picked off one by one, distracted by something only to end by the shadows and a terrifying wail that scared the living souls out of them.

This was worse than movie night when her powers went out of control due to fear, except she beaten her own fears.

She know there was someone or something in this woods causing all of this and whatever it was, it was in pain, a whole lot of pain to steal everyone who seem to wander in the woods without hurting them.

Perhaps to absorb safety to distract itself from its own pain is what raven was thinking until she found the source.

In a barren broken town covered in frozen snow and ice. An old cracked sign covered fully in overgrown frozen vines barely said anything until she used her telekinesis to move them.

Welcome to Amity Park. It's a nice place to live! Home to the most famous sup- phant-! What was the sign said if it weren't for the evacuation and Do Not Cross tape and signs all around it.

There wasn't a place like this on the map, let alone on the Titan tracker that wasn't working anymore.

It was cold, below 20 winter cold as Raven flew in the town.

She could feel the eyes of something staring at her as she anazyling the town.

Something had happened here, something big as she was seeing ice statues of varieties ages people in clothes, shoes around stuck in place as if their were doing normal town things or running from something.

More and more statues in clothes, hats, dress, police uniforms, suits, etc she kept finding as she flew by..

Only to stop at a familiar statue.. it was Robin, except he was frozen completely like a ice statue except his Robin uniform were still on with his titan communiater in his hand still pressing the buttons as if he was shouting about something.

Her heart dropped as most teen titans members were here, along with a Titans east frozen like ice statues.

Before her eyes caught something, bringing another statue. She dipped into the shadows immediately.

"Safe, must keep everyone safe, safe, safe in forever ice, nobody can get hurt now, all safe, they can't leave through the portal, all safe..."

Watching as a very long white-haired boy wearing a frozen crown floating in a black hazmat suit and a mystical cape, carry beast boy frozen in ice statue like state as a frighten falcon with one claw out.

He was much taller than cyborg, but thinner than a scarecrow, four arms, with exposed skin on his long hand paler than sickening white paint with lines of blue.

His eyes were dull blue, wearing a necklace glowing a bright ominous blue, a familiar necklace tied with a simple gold thread she had read about once.

A curse necklace of power, thought to have been lost in a bargaining chip with the infinite realm King due to twisted and corrupt the user's power to gain control over them unless forcefully taken off or cut off, reverting the effects.

It seemed to taken over this person completely.

She thought of a plan easy enough for her to snap it. Manifesting a pair of thin shadow scissors to cut the gold thread through.

Hearing the sharp snip cut through the necklace immediately alerted his attention toward her, only for the snapped necklace to drop on the floor.

Dull blue eyes shrank before a glowing green and sharp pupil revealed themselves in his eyes before rolling upwards, gravity taking effect immediately for him to collapse on the floor immediately.

The guy fell into a deep sleep as she kept him contain in a giant shadow grasp, probably out of exhaustion as the status of her teammates started to thaw out, skin exposed as the ice practically fell off them.

Each teammate suddenly gasped for air. It wasn't just them as the town itself was melting, ice cracking, noise of people were gasping or mid screaming, coming back to life from the frozen prison.

The culprit, who cause all this was still asleep, suddenly had a flash of light surrounding them as long silvery mixed with black hair teen very malnourished thin lay in the shadow grasp.

Before Raven could explain, the town folks were suddenly holding strange guns glowing green.

"Let fenton go, you creeps!"

Part 2 -> here

[nymphoatic]

just read your little logan smut with flower mutant!reader. ugh!! it was literally so sweet !! all the little nicknames for her “his flustered girl?” “the sweetest thing.” UGH i’m clawing my hair out it’s so good.

it made me think like what happens if he were to like overstimulate her or something. or maybe she’s had a bad day, or logan had been out on a mission and she misses him. and so when he gets back and pounds her into the mattress, bc duh obviously he missed his girl, little vines of some climbing flower wrap around his arms where he holds her, and eventually up his biceps, around his waist where they can sprawl over his abs, all of her favorite places of logan. and obviously she doesn’t realize it bc she’s too lost in how logan makes her feel and how much she missed him.

oh and maybe when she realizes, they start to retract because she’s so embarrassed !! and logan’s all like “hey, now don’t pull away from me, pretty girl,” and just kisses every inch of her and holds her close. please i’m obsessed. logan and his pretty flower girl are all i need !!!

a/n: YALLLL she's back. i literally had a whole other fic i was writing but this ask shot me and i just had to so thank u anon :) i will post the other fic soon but for now! be kind to me work has been busy i love uuuu enjoy!

Logan Howlett x f!reader | 18+ i'll bop you between ya eyes | flower!mutant :)

you all but jump into Logan's arms. 19 hours away; of silence. it was necessary for his stupid mission but agony for his darling love back at their cabin in the woods. he couldn't even make it inside, you ran out so he wouldn't have to find you in the house. "hey, sweet-pea." he gruffs, your eyes just beaming. he sure doesn't miss the dandelions that you leave behind with each step.

"about time! you said you'd be home by ten! god i was worried sick, i-i didn't know if i should cook dinner or not so there's nothing to eat." you babble, worried and running up the wall with meaningless stress. he just watches with a keen eye.

his hand ushers to your head, petting so sweetly to calm you down. "hey. hey. 'm alright, dolly. don't even care about dinner." and then the softest kiss to your forehead. "just happy you're here." like you'd be gone when he came back.

you're relaxed in his palm, eyes glued up to him. it's like he never left you. "bought some whiskey for you though." oh he's dating an angel, he knows it. and your proud smile just sends him in a frenzy of wanting to sip and stay with you in the living room or carry you over his shoulder to your bed. he wants the latter so badly.

he chuckles lowly and wraps his big burly arms wrap around your waist, his nose nudging under your ear. "too kind to me, baby." he murmurs. your all too familiar scent envelopes him and the switch is flipped. he has you to himself again. and Logan is just sooo greedy for his girl.

greedy and impatient. he all but shoves his large backpack into the corner of your shared room before you're thrown on the gentle plushness of the comforter. and you even made the bed for him, his sweetest girl. he's panting, eyes blown while your sweater rises up on your skin. the most he can do while he's crawling towards you is press the softest pecks on your knees and the front of your calves.

"missed you so bad." you're heart flips in its place, the sight of big bad Wolverine slinking slowly up your legs worshipping every inch he saw just too much.

"it was only a day." you chuckle, a hazy grin on your lips. your hands trail down to his hair, running through it with a smile. its fuel to the fire.

there's a small nip onto your thigh from the comment. "you say that like i don't need you every fucking minute of the it." he's quick to peel off pesky clothing in the way of the grand prize. both your tops and your own shorts were laid lazily on the floor. Logan nearly ripped it all off, his teeth baring a few times with how wanton he seemed. it's just you in your cute cotton panties and he aches all over for you. "can i? christ- lemme have you dolly, please?" you gulp, cheeks red and knees weak.

"please. yes please, need you so bad" oh how you're eyes go wide when you're desperate. Logan's hand gliding up and up your abdomen, a soft gleam shown with how smooth you've stayed. fingers run over the breasts he's worshipped so many times. after all that's been done, you've stayed his sweetest girl. so sweet you'd let him fuck you silly so quickly!

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

"i know sweetie, so deep, ain't i? jus' feel good, petal" he cooed so sweetly with your legs on his shoulders, pressed so lean against the silk pillowcases (bought by you but loved the most by Logan).

"oh fuck! 's so good, god-!" your eyes were screwed shut. you couldn't keep up, it always happens. senses get clogged up with how his dick stretches you so nice. all you hear is the quickness of skin on skin, his movement so unforgiving. you see Logan with a slacked jaw from how sloppy he's gotten you even within the few moments he's had you back in his arms.

but what you feel? you feel heaven and light all at once. you feel loved and loving, your skin melting into his. wanting him closer. to stay. on Logan's end, he's relishing in your sweet noises. just working along to keep your legs shaking, keep those warm tears falling down your cheeks, keep those vines growing your skin onto his hands rested on your waist. Logan does a double take.

the vines. oh shit. gardening again! just like those weeks ago with the wisteria. he remembers how red you were when your eyes laid upon those flowers. poor thing, your first thought was you hurt him. sure, like your mind would ever let yourself harm him. he prays it's a normal occurrence now, maybe he's a good man after all if you're so willing. a beautiful creation he has laid out so beautifully and for him?

yeah, you're growing more for him. "thas' it dolly, just feel good. you like my cock so bad? hm?" in your head, he's just talking about how you've gone limb from how the head of his cock rams deep into what feels like your gut. makes you so dumb you nod eagerly. he grins. the vines grow and grow to where they keep his hands attached to curve of your lower back. he can't loose you in all this now, can he?

Logan's just happy you've had your eyes welted shut focused on the bliss he's giving you, moaning like it's second nature. you were a vision beyond anything he'd seen with your charming trailing plants making him keep fucking into you. even the most darling buds pop next to the leaves.

"some pretty flowers for me too, huh?" Logan curses himself for saying that when your eyes meekly open, the words unfamiliar from his lips when it came to being fucked into a mattress. and then they're quarters from there. wide and beady while watching the fruits of your labor spinning and twisting up your lovers arms while he fucks you so good.

"oh...L-Lo, ah! i'm sorry i'll stop- fuck!" you really wanted to be sorry and pitying, to cry more than you were but from sheer humiliation. not from blinding pleasure. but maybe the vines had the good idea. they're not constricting yet not too different from your clawing hands onto his back.

he simply shakes his head. "nah. nah, keep em. lemme see it all, petal, please." embarrassment subsides. it's your Logan! there's no need for it. your shoulders relax with your head lulling back into the pillow, too cock drunk to think of ever letting this stop. more vines blossom onto his broad shoulders now. he'd be covered by the end of the night at this rate. "good girl, there we go..." the vines were kind enough to let his arm bend down to your cheeks pressing haste kisses on your flushed skin, peppering and spoiling you for you compliance. always so eager to please. his filthy girl.

he's insatiable, eager for more. his hips buck into you with more intent. to push you over, to have you more intimately. or to put it plainly, to feel you cum hard on his cock. and with how you clench around him with your little noises of "ah! ah! ah!" his lips capture yours in a sloppy kiss. all teeth while he drinks in every muffled moan. you just taste like fucking candy everywhere he puts his mouth, you're magic incarnate. in all his blistering years barely alive he's never known a feeling like having you below him so desperate to have his cock.

he doesn't know it but his stroke are getting messy. he's getting close and you're right behind him, your back arching into the sheets. he has to move his hands. his knuckles feel raw where those three shiny blades seep out. Logan's all too familiar with it. though he didn't think moving your flora would be so easy when detaching his hands to avoid an accidental injury to his lady.

fingers wrap around the bed frame with another large palm cradling your head to face him. you face the foliage you've made on his shoulders, and now, his chest. what a sight. seeing the ivy leaves decorate him and his specially carved abs.

oh you were a weak woman. "fuck, 'm gonna cum! more, please gimme more-" you cry out, now pulling him in by those strong stems able to carry while buildings. no longer auto pilot. you're all too aware. he groans, eyes nearly rolling in the back of his head.

"doin' that on purpose now, bub" oh you were. you simply wanted his fat cock deeper for when he unloads inside your poor pussy. you smile with mischief. his brows furrow. his pace picks up once more, groans turning to growls while the bed shakes with the direction force from his hands. beastly man he was . "cum with me, baby. cum on this cock and i'll fill ya up. i'll get y'so full, whatever you want"

and that's was all you needed for you're poor hole to clench violently while you drip down his thighs with a broken cry out. the vines tighten then expand, crawling out onto the bed with a poof. even cuter, the flowers bloom. he relishes in seeing his girls pretty pussy make a mess on him he just needs to return the favor. feeling the subtle clenching from your orgasm, he's cumming with one last mean buck of the hips.

"fucking christ-!" his claws unsheathe into the wall, his other set of knuckles driving into the mattress next to you while he grinds slowly to dump every drop into you. his veins on his forehead nearly pop, his eyes only watching your glossy pupils zeroed on abs. so shameless you were. he pants out with his entire body breathing with him.

he settles slowly, his claws reeling back from exhaustion. your plants remain however. yet he's only settled on you. his hands begin their soothing, his thumbs caressing your cheeks while you catch your breathe. "easy now. you okay? did i hurt you at all?" your head shakes in his grasp, eyes lazily opening to meet his eyes. your poor guy, he thinks anytime those knives come out around you he'll dice you on accident.

"spooked me." you mumble, but half heartedly. the smile on your lips shows it's a joke. Logan only huffs.

"it's only hot when you loose control." you gasp, a hand playfully patting his arm clad with your leaves. he chuckles while pressing a kiss to your forehead.

his sweetest flower, back in his arms again.

🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

dt: @nervous-person @clownprinzzzz

ask for a dt ! ! ! !