#also I don’t think you can get more powerful than fucking god

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 LOST IN THE DARK (THEN I FOUND YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with a blizzard rocking yokohama, you find yourself seeking refuge in nakahara chuuya's apartment because, somehow, his building is the only one that has working generators... yet you find yourself becoming a bit suspicious (and concerned) when you realize the one person you expected to be there isn't. so you decide to go looking for him yourself, forcing chuuya to come along, and you end up maybe biting off more than you could chew.

wordcount: 8.2k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i don't think any other warnings necessary but lmk if i've missed any

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ughhhhhhh i was not going to post today BUT 1) i remembered that it was ghostienon's birthday yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!) and 2) sophie said she was sad so i forced myself out of bed to edit and format. i hope you guys enjoy the background to how reader and dazai started living with each other ;) i love being able to write them as stupid teens HAHAH if u guys can't tell. we also get some hints as to mori's opinion on her and dazai's growing relatioship in this installment, though that will have its own dedicated fic <.<

“God, it’s fucking cold.” Chuuya shivers, tucked beneath a blanket in his apartment, scowling out the tall windows looking over the city. “When will this storm end? I swear it's never ending."

A blizzard has been tearing through the entire Kanagawa prefecture the past two days, and right now, Yokohama is taking the full force of it, has been since three am. The harsh winds knocked the power out hours ago, and none of the building’s generators are working. The easternmost building, the one where you live, was the first to go, so you dragged yourself all the way across to the westernmost building to force your way into Chuuya’s apartment, the only building that’s power was still holding strong by the time you made your decision.

Evidently, you were not the only one that had that idea. Ozaki Kouyou sits primly in a bundle of furs as she reads through mission reports from her subordinates, Hirotsu Ryuro flips through files on an upcoming mission for the Black Lizards, and the Colonel is berating one of his subordinates over a walkie-talkie in the corner of the room. You and Chuuya are huddled on the couch with each other, trying to keep each other warm as you wait for the worst of this to pass.

“Says you,” you say bitterly, burrowed in three of his blankets as you glare at him. “You’re like a furnace, I think I’m going to freeze to death.”

The power in his building had gone out an hour ago, and being on one of the upper floors, his apartment became chilly quickly. Chuuya scowls at you and his hand darts out to press against the back of your neck. You shriek and give him an accusing look at the feeling of his icy fingers against your bare skin, slapping his hand away hard. He snorts, looking thoroughly smug at his actions and you have half a mind to beat him to death with a pillow.

“Better than being out on the streets, hm, boy?” Kouyou says idly, glancing up from her papers, raising her eyebrows.

You watch as Chuuya’s gaze flickers down to the ground, a guilty expression crossing his face. You don’t know much about what happened last year that led to Chuuya joining the Port Mafia—you do know that evidently he’d been monikered ‘King of the Sheep,’ a small organization of teenagers that had stupidly taken to trying to siphon off territory from the Mafia, and he’d been exiled by his kingdom of orphans courtesy of Dazai. You think maybe he’s probably wondering if they’re still out there, trying to wait out this storm in whatever back alleys they can find.

You nudge your shoulder against his, trying to draw him out of his thoughts, and he gives you a tight smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

At least you guys don’t have to worry about any attacks until the storm passes. 

The Dragon’s Head Conflict has been raging for a month now, you came back to Yokohama at the start of it and it's only continued to escalate with each passing day. There are so many foreign organizations trying to get footholds in Yokohama for the money that started this conflict, the entire city has become a bloody battlefield. You’ve hardly slept the past few weeks trying to work with Mori to figure out a game plan for handling Strain, the biggest threat of this conflict by far, but it’s hard when the Mafia’s warehouses and ports are getting assaulted day after day. 

Chuuya’s been taking on the brunt of the attacks, single-handedly pushing them back, but you know he’s getting tired. You see the exhaustion on his face and the bags beneath his eyes—the storm, as awful as it is, is bringing him a break that he very much needs. And Dazai-

“Dazai.”

You sit up straight, blankets tumbling off of you as your eyes widen. Instantly, you can feel all of the eyes in this room on you.

“What about that bastard?” Chuuya asks irritably.

“Where is he?” you demand. You haven’t seen him since the storm started, don’t know where he is; you don’t even know what building he lives in. You figured that he would have wormed his way into Chuuya’s apartment too when he realized his building lasted the longest with power, but you didn’t even think anything of it until now just because of how cold you were. “Where does he even live, actually?”

A month you’ve been in Yokohama and you’ve never been to Dazai’s apartment. You spend a lot of time with Chuuya up in his, and Dazai usually pops in too whenever you’re there; they come up to yours once in a blue moon. But you’ve never been to his.

“Out in some shipping container in the yards in southern Naka-ku,” Hirotsu answers your question and you turn to look at him, appalled.

“What?” you ask bluntly. “A shipping container?”

“The Boss offered him a nice apartment in the central building,” Kouyou hums. “He refused many times.”

“I wouldn’t want to live in the same building as Mori either,” you say snippily. “He’s out there now? In this storm?”

Kouyou lifts her shoulders in an elegant shrug, raising her eyebrows as she finally looks up at you, there’s something chilly in her eyes that you don’t like as she studies you. Chuuya doesn’t meet your eyes when you give him a pressing look.

“Those containers aren’t insulated,” you continue. “He’ll freeze to death.”

Kouyou scoffs. “That boy won’t be killed by something as mundane as the cold,” she says dismissively. “He will be fine.”

You give her a dismayed look. You’re not too close with Dazai, you’ve only known him for a month, and in that time, you haven’t really had the opportunity to spend much time with him besides the occasional invasion of Chuuya’s apartment. The two of you always seem to have missions scheduled at opposite times of each other—whenever you’re free, he’s gone and whenever you’re gone, he’s free. Sometimes, you think Mori does it on purpose, but you don’t know why.

“It’s blizzarding out there,” you argue. “He’s stick and bones in an uninsulated piece of metal that’s probably buried in snow. We can’t just leave him out there.”

“Leave him be,” Kouyou says sharply, and you’re almost taken aback by her tone, giving her a cool look. “Don’t involve yourself with that boy.”

You draw back at the sternness—you and Kouyou have been on good terms, so you don’t really know where this is coming from, and it pisses you off a bit, but that might just be because you’re cold and already irritable.

“Excuse me?” you gape, looking between her and Chuuya, noticing how Chuuya immediately averts his gaze from you. “Chuuya?” 

“You heard me, girl,” Kouyou tells you firmly. “Keep away from him.”

“Why?” You’re half convinced you’re not hearing her correctly because what does that even mean. Your voice rises as you become more incensed. “What do you even mean? Chuuya hangs with him all the time-”

“Mori has forced the two of them into a partnership,” Kouyou interrupts. “Chuuya has no choice in the matter. You-”

You bristle, about to rise to your feet, but before you can say anything, Hirotsu speaks up: “Kouyou-san is right, hime. The Boss has that boy on a tight leash for a reason, he does not like anything trying to interfere with it. Even you. Especially you.”

Chuuya gives you a look from the corner of his eye. “The Boss is weird about him,” he agrees quietly, but he does seem distinctly uncomfortable, like a part of him wants to go out searching for Dazai. “You’ve had to have noticed.”

Of course, you have. It’s impossible to miss the way Mori hangs over him. He has Dazai shadow him everywhere he goes, never far out of sight. He’s harsher with Dazai than he was even with you back when he first took you in years ago, has impossibly high expectations and refuses to accept failure from him. You think maybe it’s part of the reason why he’s always so careful to ensure that you’re on missions at opposite times—Dazai has shown interest in you since your arrival in Yokohama, becoming giddy like a kid whenever he runs into you, and Mori already warned you not to distract him.

You rise to your feet, shaking your head. “I’m not leaving him out there to freeze.”

“Girl,” Kouyou says, voice tight, finally looking up from her reports again to give you a stern look. “I won’t say it again-”

“Or what?” you ask coolly. “What is he going to do to me? I’ve known Mori longer than any of you. I know what he’ll do if he doesn’t like what I’m doing, it’s not worth leaving Dazai out there alone, especially in this weather.”

You toss off the blankets and storm over to where you’d hung your jacket up, looking back at Chuuya over your shoulder. “Are you coming?” you ask, annoyed. 

Chuuya glances between you and Kouyou nervously before sighing and tossing his own blankets off. “Whatever. You’re bringing him to your apartment. I don’t want his shitty ass here.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t know why the fuck I agreed to this,” Chuuya spits out complaints as the two of you trudge off the road through knee deep snow to the slope leading down to the shipping yards. “You’re insane. Dazai would not do this for you.”

“I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be in this situation,” you scowl, tossing Chuuya a dirty look before your eyes trail across the shipping yard. “Do you know which container is his? They all look the same.”

“That red one out there, I think,” Chuuya says, pointing out across the shipping yard to one of the few containers not falling apart. You grimace, it’s all the way out in the center of the yard in the deepest parts of the snow. Chuuya sees your displeasure and rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

You yelp when he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him. The Tainted Sorrow is an ability you’ve become well acquainted with over the past few weeks, but it’s still jarring to feel it wash over you so suddenly. Chuuya gives you a sharp smile when he feels your grip on his arm tighten as he uses his ability to launch the two of you in the air; your stomach lurches at the sudden feeling of weightlessness that spreads through you.

It takes a total of maybe five seconds for him to get the two of you in front of Dazai’s supposed shipping container, and you shiver when the two of you land in the knee deep snow, casting him a dirty look when he keeps himself floating right above it.

“Asshole,” you mutter, ignoring his smug look as you trudge forward to the door of the shipping container. “Dazai! Dazai, are you in there?”

Your voice strains as you shout over the howling wind, grimacing and blinking rapidly at the snow pelting your face. You get no response from inside the container and you give Chuuya a scowl.

“Are you sure this is the right container?” you demand as your fingers enclose around the bitterly cold metal handle.

Chuuya shrugs. “I’m pretty sure.”

“I can’t stand you,” you snap as you try and fail to yank open the container, the deep snow preventing it from budging even an inch.

“Here, move,” Chuuya says, coming to stand next to you, finally dropping down into the snow as he nudges you out of the way to use his ability to pull open the heavy, jammed door.

You squint as you look into the dark container—it’s mostly empty and you’re about to turn on Chuuya for having the wrong one before you notice a chair and a desk in the far back corner. The snow spills into the container as soon as Chuuya gets the door open and you yelp as you slide in, nearly slipping to the floor. 

Chuuya snorts. 

You glare at him, but you have more pressing matters to attend to.

“Dazai,” you call again, frowning when you don’t see him in the container, wondering if you came all the way out here for nothing. Chuuya would kill you. “Do you see him?”

“I’m gonna kill you if we came all the way out here for nothing,” Chuuya says, voicing your thoughts. You wince as he jumps down to stand next to you. “Maybe he went over to those other friends of his? That low ranking guy?”

Maybe, you think, taking a few steps further into the container, eyes straining in the dark to try to make sure he’s not there before facing Chuuya’s wrath and leaving. Just as you’re about to give up, you spot a lump covered by a thin blanket in the corner of the container and you frown. You think at first it’s a pile of dirty clothes until you draw a bit closer and see that it’s moving, a slow and steady rise and fall that could only be Dazai huddled beneath it.

“Dazai?” you repeat again, making your way over to the corner of the container and kneeling next to the lump. Chuuya trails a few steps behind you slowly, pausing when you reach out to snatch the blanket off of the lump. “Jesus, Dazai…”

He’s sleeping beneath the blanket—sleeping or just straight up unconscious, you’re not sure. He looks small curled into a ball in the corner of the container, his skin and lips are paler than usual, breath concerningly slow. You reach out to press your hand against his cheek, feeling how cold and clammy his skin is.

“And you wanted to leave him out here,” you hiss at Chuuya, shooting him an accusing look. To his credit, he does look guilty as he looks down at Dazai, brows twisted and lips curled down, an unreadable look in his bicolored eyes. “Help me get him up.”

Dazai is lighter than you expected—he’s tall and gangly but there’s so little meat to his bones that you can almost lift him up on your own but it’s just awkward because of his height. Chuuya grabs his feet, you grab under his arms; his body is limp, like you’re carrying a corpse and not a living, breathing human being.

“Chuuya, hold on, I’m gonna put him down,” you say before the two of you get to the entrance of his shipping container.

Chuuya grunts as the two of you lower him to the ground, giving you a questioning look. You ignore it, pulling off your thick fur coat and wrapping it around Dazai, trying to warm him up even just a little because you fear that if you bring him out in his thin button-up and slacks, he’s just going to get even more sick. 

“You’re gonna freeze,” Chuuya says with a sigh, shaking his head. He pulls off his own jacket and tosses it at you. “I run hot anyway. Take it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, shrugging it over your shoulders and then looking back down at Dazai. “Ready?” 

“Yup,” Chuuya agrees, leaning down to grab Dazai’s feet again.

You grimace as the harsh and bitter winds immediately sting your face, a shiver running down your body. You glance over at Chuuya, whose face is already becoming red with the cold, he looks distinctly uncomfortable although he’s trying to hide it, and you feel a bit guilty. You look to the side, all the way across the shipping container yard up the hill to the road the two of you had come from, all of it covered in several feet of snow.

You realize, a bit dreadfully, that Chuuya will not be able to use his ability while carrying Dazai and you give him an agonized look.

Chuuya looks just as harrowed.

“This is going to suck.”

“Give me your blankets,” Chuuya demands, shivering violently once the two of you get Dazai up to your apartment. 

Luckily, the backup generators had come back on while the two of you were out so you didn’t have to walk up literally nearly forty stories to get to your apartment. The heat is still off though, so it’s freezing and you really need to change into something warmer, but you’re more concerned with the boy curled up beneath your covers, still breathing but still also concerningly slow.

“He’s not looking too good,” you say quietly, reaching out to pull the blankets tighter around him. You brush your fingers across his cheekbone, trying to see if he’ll stir at all, but he remains frighteningly still. “Do you think maybe I should call Mori?”

You don’t want to call Mori and you’re pretty sure Dazai wouldn’t want you to call Mori, but you think that if he doesn’t move or show some kind of life in the next ten minutes, you’re going to have to. As much as you don’t want to get the man involved, you want Dazai to die in your bed even less. You sigh as you take a seat at his bedside, pulling out your phone to try to figure out what exactly you should do if he’s hypothermic.

“Yo, I asked for blankets,” Chuuya says irritably, rifling around your clothes closet for blankets. “Where are they?”

“Downstairs,” you say dismissively, “I thought you weren’t staying.”

Chuuya’s shoulders slump as he scowls at you. “Only long enough for you to figure out if he’s gonna live,” he mutters and then storms downstairs to find blankets as you finally find a website that will load so you can figure out what to do with Dazai.

Be gentle. When helping someone with hypothermia, handle them gently. Only move the person as much as is necessary. Don't massage or rub the person. Vigorous or jarring movements may trigger cardiac arrest.

Move the person out of the cold. Move the person to a warm, dry location if possible. If moving is not possible, shield the person from the cold and wind as much as possible. The person should be kept in a flat position if possible.

Remove wet clothing. If the person is wearing wet clothing, remove it. Cut away clothing if necessary to avoid too much movement.

Cover the person with blankets. Use layers of dry blankets or coats to warm the person. Cover the person's head, leaving only the face exposed.

Monitor breathing. A person with severe hypothermia may appear unconscious, with no clear signs of a pulse or breathing. If the person's breathing has stopped or appears dangerously low or shallow, begin CPR right away if you're trained.

Supply warm beverages. If the affected person is alert and able to swallow, give the person a warm, sweet, nonalcoholic, noncaffeinated drink. Warm drinks can help warm the body.

Well, you think, he’s not conscious for a warm drink and Chuuya changed him into a warm pair of your thick sweatshirts and sweatpants. He’s piled under the blankets in your room and he didn’t go into cardiac arrest from the two of you jostling him out of the shipping yard and into your apartment, so you think the only thing really left for you to do is make sure he keeps breathing.

You can do that.

You turn your attention back to Dazai, chewing the inside of your cheek as you look down at him. You shift into a cross-legged position, hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek. His skin is cold under your touch but your breath hitches when he finally moves on his own; you almost draw your hand back like you’ve been burned when you see his lashes flutter, but you don’t. Your lips part when he unconsciously leans into your touch, a soft puff of air escaping his lips as he shifts into a more comfortable position, pressing his face into your hand. 

You’re only snapped back to reality when Chuuya walks back into your bedroom, your fluffy blanket from the couch downstairs pulled entirely around him. He gives you a judgmental look, eyes drawing from where you’d very inconspicuously yanked your hand back into your lap before looking back up to your face and your cheeks heats up.

“I was checking his temperature,” you hiss, lying through your teeth. “Don’t look at me like that when you look like an egg.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chuuya rolls his eyes as he waddles over to you, sitting on the bed next to you as the two of you look over Dazai. “How is he?”

“Alive,” you say with a shrug. “There’s nothing else to really do but make sure he keeps breathing. Give him warm water to drink when he wakes up. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” he replies awkwardly. “I’ll stay for a bit. Don’t want to go back so Ane-san can scold me anyway…”

You think it’s more that he feels guilty over wanting to leave Dazai out there while he was suffering but you don’t shatter the facade he’s putting up because if he feels bad, it’ll be easier for you to make him do the things you don’t want to do while he’s here.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be mad,” you agree, glancing down at Dazai again, some of your tension easing when you see that his chest is rising and falling a bit more steadily and much more deeply now. “I’m not happy with her.”

“Why?” Chuuya asks.

“What do you mean why?” you ask. “You know why.”

“She was just trying to look out for you,” Chuuya says with a frown. “She’s right, the Boss gets weird about Dazai. I mean, I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself but you haven’t been here the past year. I always thought it was weird that he never introduced Dazai to the Flags like he did for me but… I just don’t think he likes it when people get close to Dazai.”

It is weird, you won’t deny that, but it’s not worth leaving him out there to die. Plus… you remember the day you first met him, his excitement at having someone else his age around, his disappointment when he thought you didn’t like him… he’s just a boy, a lonely one at that, and Mori is cruel for trying to keep him isolated.

“I don’t care what Mori wants,” you say tightly. 

It’s a lie—the thought of doing something that pisses him off chills you to the bone. Your throat spasms as your mind is drawn back to the warzone he found you in; the way he’d give you small smiles and pats on the head all the while telling you that if you couldn’t get a hold of your ability, he’d send you back where you came from. The thought is cold and haunting, a constant reminder that if you can’t prove your worth to him he’ll discard you like a useless tool, but…

Your gaze drifts back over to Dazai, still shivering from where tucked underneath your blankets, but he looks much more comfortable. Much more at peace. You think again of the way he was so happy to meet you. The way he was so bothered by the thought of you not liking him. The way he constantly tries to seek you out even though Mori ensures that the two of you have opposite mission schedules. The way he so instinctively leaned into your touch. 

But maybe just this once you’ll do what you want regardless of Mori’s wishes.

Chuuya gives you a heavy side eye before shaking his head. “Wanna play cards?”

“... Yeah, sure.”

The first time Dazai wakes up, he’s not even coherent.

He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, doesn't know who you are, and is panicked over something. Chuuya had left hours ago once the two of you were mostly certain that Dazai wouldn’t suddenly die, going back to his apartment to face the wrath of Kouyou for disobeying her. You’re starting to doze off when you feel him jerk up next to you; he thrashes under the covers as he tries to free himself, nearly knocking you off of the bed.

“Dazai,” you gasp, startled. You shift around to try to get him to calm down and nearly end up with a fist to the face. “Jesus, Dazai, chill.”

You grab his hand and try to pin him down to the bed but it only ends with him thrashing harder, eyes wild, more panicked. You let go of his wrist and he scrambles away, tripping off the bed and onto the floor, yanking the blankets with him. You curse as you follow after him, kneeling on the floor next to him as he scuttles back into the corner like a frightened animal.

He looks… terrible, actually. His skin is pale and clammy, you think he must have developed a fever from the cold. He looks half delirious, his visible eye is glazed over and full of fear and your throat tightens as you lift your hands to try to show you mean no harm. Dazai doesn’t calm down, kicks his feet out when you try to get close and you sigh before stopping a few feet away from him.

“Dazai, calm down, it’s just me,” you say quietly. 

When he finally starts to calm down, you shift forward to place your hands on his ankles, stopping him from kicking out again if something sets him off. When he doesn’t immediately start thrashing under your touch, you take it as an okay to come closer. Scooting against the floor, you come to sit next to him, pressing your shoulder against his. Dazai instantly is leaning into you, body exhausted, head falling against your shoulder.

“We have to get you back up on the bed,” you tell him but you feel him weakly shake his head from where it’s resting on your shoulder. “We have to, Dazai. You can't stay on the floor.”

“Why are you here?” he croaks out. “... Why am I here? Is this your apartment?”

“You were going to freeze to death out there,” you tell him. “I-”

“But why? Why do you care? I don’t-no one cares so why…” Dazai doesn’t even finish the question, tongue loosened in his half-delirious state. He sounds distressed but more than that he sounds confused, like he can’t understand why you would go out of your way for him. Him.

“C’mon, Dazai, back in bed,” is all you say, voice quiet as you shift into a kneeling position, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him stumble back to his feet.

He’s light, but his limbs are awkwardly long so you stumble a bit when he leans his full body weight onto you, nearly tripping over one of his legs as you help him onto the bed. As soon as you get him situated, you reach back over onto the floor to grab the blankets he’d pulled off the bed and tuck him back under them.

His eye tracks you—big and black and empty as you leave his side to grab the chamomile tea you’d brewed when he finally started stirring thirty minutes ago. It’s not as hot now but it’s warm enough.

You sit at his side, shoulder pressed to his and back against the headboard as you lift the mug to his lips. He stares down at the mug for a moment, making no move to drink it, but then he lets his head fall on your shoulder again, pressing his lips to the rim of the mug.

You tilt the mug back, using your other hand to keep his head steady, watching as he takes a few sips before stubbornly turning his head away, pressing his face into your shoulder so that you can’t force him to drink anymore.

“You should take a few more sips,” you tell him quietly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“No,” he says, voice muffled against your shirt. It’s only when he hears you put the mug back down does he finally lift his face. He still looks entirely out of it, but his gaze still somehow manages to take upon a more accusing look. “Why am I here?”

“I told you why,” you frown, side-eyeing him.

“Why am I really here? Did Mori tell you to come check on me? I don’t need-”

“I came because I wanted to,” you say as you become increasingly more irritated. “I’m not Mori’s lapdog. I do what I want.”

Dazai stares at you, more withdrawn now and an uncertain look in his eye. “But why?” he asks, a bit quieter this time like he can’t possibly fathom why someone would come for him because they wanted to. You almost want to reach down and grab his hand but you refrain. Instead, you knock the side of your head gently against his.

“I told you back when we met that I wanted to know you. Wanted to be your friend,” you say, honestly.

“You didn’t say that,” Dazai accuses, averting his gaze. “That you wanted to be my friend. You didn’t say that.”

“It was kind of implied,” you reply, rolling your eyes and that add a bit more quietly, “I do. I do want to be your friend. And friends look out for each other.”

Dazai’s entire expression shifts at your words, expression crumbling. Just as suddenly as his expression changes, he throws himself back into a laying position, turning away from you and lifting the covers up above his head to hide himself from you. You stare at him, unsure of how to take his reaction—a rejection? Or maybe he’s just flustered? He murmurs something that you can’t hear because it’s smothered by the layers of blankets on top of him.

“Huh?”

“I said that I’m allowing you to be my friend,” Dazai raises his voice, pitched and wobbly, like he’s trying to make it come across more snooty than it actually does. As if it’s a bother for you to want to be his friend. It’s almost funny but you can’t help the way you roll your eyes again. “Be grateful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you say sarcastically, “for gracing me with this most honored title.”

You hear him sniffle and then sneeze beneath the lump of blankets. “It is an honored title. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes. Again. But you don’t respond this time, resigning to just leaning back against the headboard and grab the book you were starting before you’d started dozing off. You think maybe he might be right—it is an honored title. Dazai doesn’t have many friends, doesn’t let people get too close and certainly doesn’t let them think they mean anything to him. He’s very selective with the people he chooses to associate with.

“The next time you wake up, as your friend, I’m forcing you to eat some soup.”

You hear him grumble but you think he must be too tired to protest because he doesn’t even get any words out before you notice that his breath has evened out beneath the blankets. You sigh and pull them down a bit so that he doesn’t accidentally smother himself to death in his sleep, ignoring the small smile that twitches to your lips as you turn your attention back to your book.

The second time Dazai wakes up, he’s much more alert and entirely more difficult.

“You need to eat something,” you hiss, trying to wrangle Dazai up out of bed. “And you need to drink something, you’ve sweat so much that my sheets are soaked through. You’re going to be dehydrated and then you’re going to feel worse.”

“Go away,” Dazai shrieks, nearly smacking you in the face as he tries to push you away. “Go away, I don’t want your help, just let me go back to the shipping container to die. I don’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” you hiss, taking the pillow he was laying on and whacking him over the head with it hard. Dazai flops back on the bed hard, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. You raise the pillow again threateningly. “Get up and eat soup or I’ll hit you again.”

“You just whacked me with a pillow while I’m dying of fever,” Dazai says, voice riddled with shock. “I can’t believe you just-”

“Eat the soup,” you demand, winding back your arms again as you prepare to hit him again. 

Dazai gives the pillow a wary look before sitting up and scooching across the bed to the nightstand, staring at the now lukewarm soup with a contemplative expression. “Do you eat or drink soup? It’s liquid, isn’t it? Wouldn’t I be drinking the soup?” 

You stare at him flatly. “There’s carrots in it. You’re eating the carrots, so you’re eating the soup.”

Dazai’s face twists in disgust as soon as the c-word leaves your lips and you know you’ve made a mistake. Everything happens in a split second—you see him look at you from the corner of his eye, you see his gaze dart to the door, and you see his body tense as he prepares to make a break for it.

He doesn’t get more than an inch before you’re bringing the pillow back down on his head, sending him sprawling back down against the mattress with a loud ‘oof.’

“You can’t just beat me until I eat the soup,” Dazai protests loudly, disgruntled as he looks around trying to figure out if he can try to make another break for it, casting the pillow a wary look. Luckily, even if he is more coherent now, his brain and body are still sluggish from the fever. “You can’t.”

“Watch me,” you say, and just for good measure, you whack him with it again.

“Stop! I didn’t even move that time,” he cries out. “Now you’re hitting me just to hit me!” 

“You’re not eating it fast enough.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair!”

Dazai bristles like an irritated cat as he stares at you, but his shoulders slump as he drags himself back over to the nightstand. You’re almost insulted, honestly, considering you spent an hour trying to figure out how to cook it properly for him, but you simmer down when he lifts the spoon from the bowl.

He blinks suddenly, eyes wide and owlish. “This spoon is large.”

You stare at him. “It’s a soup spoon,” you say flatly. 

“Can I keep it?” he asks, twisting it around to look at it more carefully.

“No, Dazai, you can’t keep my spoon.”

Dazai pouts at you but then lets out a heavy, disappointed sigh as he gives the soup one last wary look before taking his first spoonful of soup. For a split second, you watch with bated breath to see his reaction to it, but then his face lights up as he spoons up another mouthful of the soup. You pretend that you’re not entirely pleased and smug that he likes the soup you made him, but you can’t help yourself from making a snide comment.

“So after all of that, you like it,” you say dryly. 

Dazai scowls. “I’m just hungry,” he disagrees, but his cheeks are flushed pink. “That’s all.”

“Sure,” you agree blandly.

“It’s true.”

You don’t say anything else after that, staring at the wall as Dazai scarfs down the entire bowl of soup because whenever you look at him, he stops mid-spoonful and waits for you to look away again. You think he’s ridiculous and want to roll your eyes, but you also can’t help the fondness that blooms in you as you pull your knees to your chest and wait for him to finish.

It’s not long before you hear the spoon scraping against the bottom of the bowl. When you look over at him, you see the frown on his face as he looks down at the bowl—as if he hadn’t realized that he’d finished all of the soup already. You nudge his shoulder with yours, drawing his attention away from the empty bowl. 

“There’s more in the pot if you want it,” you offer, watching as a conflicted expression crosses his face as he looks back down at the bowl. “It’s gonna go to waste if you don’t. I ate earlier.”

Finally, Dazai mutters, “Only because you’re forcing me.”

You give him a flat look but don’t say anything else, taking the bowl from him and making your wait out of the bedroom to the kitchen. It’s been a little over a day since you first got him in your apartment. It’s dark again, the moon high in the sky and stars glittering prettily—you pause at the towering windows in your living room to look up at the sky and you find yourself thinking of Dazai. 

Or, of his eyes that is.

When you hear people talk about Dazai, they mostly talk about his mass of terrifying feats. They talk about how he’s sixteen and already in command of one of the Port Mafia’s most elite combat squads, they talk about how he’s sixteen and rivaling the Colonel’s success rate on operations, they talk about how he’s on track to be the next promoted executive whenever there’s another opening. They talk about how his blood is blacker than anyone else in the upper echelon, they talk about how he was born to be one of them. You can never tell if they’re scared of him or if they admire him—probably both, and you think they’re probably more scared than anything. 

They also talk about his eyes. Eye. Whatever. Too dark, too emotionless, too dull. Soulless, hollow, creepy. They’re uncomfortable meeting his gaze—they say he’s inhuman, that only a demon could have eyes so hauntingly empty. 

You think they’re wrong, they remind you more of the night sky than anything else.

You love the stars. 

You sigh as you walk over to the kitchen and pour the rest of the soup into the bowl. You heat it back up in the microwave for a few seconds before bringing it back over to the spare bedroom where Dazai is staying. You think you’ve probably not been gone for more than two minutes, but by the time you’re back, Dazai is curled up beneath the covers again, dozing off. 

He doesn’t notice you enter the room and you watch him for a moment, tilting your head to the side as take note of the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes flutter as his eyes droop shut. There’s still sweat beaded on his forehead, a faint flush over his cheeks that proves the fever is still running him down—you find your lips curving up, you think he’s much more pleasant when he doesn’t speak. 

He only jerks back awake when you take a few steps closer to him, eyes wild with panic as if he was surprised by your presence. He doesn’t seem to recognize you for a moment but when he does, he visibly relaxes, brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t realize he’d started falling asleep.

“You can sleep if you’re tired,” you say as you place the soup down on the nightstand and take a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. “I can heat up the soup later.”

Dazai stares at you with an unreadable expression, he looks like he wants to ask you something or say something but his lips remain sealed shut. After a few moments, he sits up silently and shifts into a sitting position. Your shoulders brush and his thigh is pressed against yours as he starts to eat the soup carefully again, slower this time.

Too slow, you realize almost a second too late when Dazai’s head lolls to the side and he nearly drops a whole spoonful of soup onto the bed. Luckily, you’re quick enough to grab the bowl and catch the spoon and soup before it hits the sheets. His head drops on your shoulder and that fondness in your chest starts to spread again. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai so at peace before, and yes, it might be because he’s half dead with exhaustion, but you think it’s a welcome difference from the tight expressions you’ve seen from him when you happen to cross paths with him at headquarters. When he’s not Dazai Osamu, but the Demon Prodigy, the Black Wraith, cold and distant, intimidating and cruel, not a sixteen-year-old boy who dislikes carrots and has a fascination with soup spoons. You think back to his refusal to believe that you were helping him of your own free will and you can’t help but frown a bit.

You let him lay on your shoulder for a second longer than necessary before shifting him back into a lying position and tucking him beneath the comforter. You sigh as you take a seat next to him, back against the headboard as you pull out your phone to shoot a text to Chuuya so you can let him know that Dazai is doing better.

You yawn as you think to yourself that you’ll stay a bit longer—watch over Dazai to make sure he doesn’t get worse again before heading back up to your own room… but you find yourself sinking into the mattress, a bit too sleepy and a bit too comfortable…

Dazai feels better the next time he wakes up. 

He yawns as he shifts in bed to nuzzle into the thick blankets and soft pillows. He feels warm, comfortable, surrounded by a familiar and pleasant scent that leaves his defenses dangerously low. A bit alarmed by how at ease he feels, Dazai’s eyes fly open, trying to figure out where the fuck he is and why the fuck he feels so good.

He tries to sit up, but there’s a weight pressed against his side that makes him pause, so he turns his head to the side slowly, unsure of what he’s going to find. He freezes when he sees you propped up against the headboard next to him, fast asleep, neck turned at an uncomfortable angle.

“Friends look out for each other.”

At once, the past day or so comes back to him—most of it is a fog but he vividly remembers him waking up a few hours ago and you whacking him around with pillows until he got some soup in him. He finds his lips curling up into an amused smile as he looks down at you, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest that makes him feel almost… Dazai doesn’t dare to admit it. He’s never had someone take care of him like that before.

He sighs as he reaches out to shift you into a more comfortable position. Carefully, laying you down against the mattress and placing your head on the pillow where his had been resting. He pulls the covers over you and watches as you let out a sleepy hum of appreciation, rubbing your face against the pillow before settling back down into a deep sleep.

His hands drop back down to his lap and he stares at you for a moment, wondering if you meant what you said, wondering if you were telling the truth when you told him Mori hadn’t been the one to send you to check on him, wondering if maybe… 

Wondering if maybe you really did want to be his friend. 

Dazai doesn’t have many friends. He has Oda, but he pretty much forced himself into Oda’s life by almost dying on his doorstep—literally—so he doesn’t think that really counts. Chuuya… well, he pretty much coerces Chuuya into hanging out with him by antagonizing him into video game challenges, so he doesn’t think that really counts either. 

Dazai might not have any friends, actually. 

He decidedly doesn’t like the emotion spreading through him now. It's light and airy and it clings to his black heart dangerously. It blooms in a way that nothing should be able to bloom in the dark. It’s too… feels too close to hope and Dazai knows better than anyone that hope is a dangerous, dangerous emotion—one that he shouldn’t allow to take root in him unless he wants to be hurt in ways that he’s tried to carefully guard himself from.

He should leave.

He should leave now. 

He’s feeling better, there’s no reason for him to stay now that he can move around and think but…

But this bed is so much more comfortable than the floor of his shipping container… The sheets and comforter are warmer than the thin and ripped blanket he uses to cover himself at night… The pillows are so much softer than the clothes he props behind his head as a pillow. Dazai has never slept so well in his entire life—the nights that he is able to sleep are restless and plagued with faces he’d rather forget and voices that haunt him. This is the first time in… well, forever, that he’s been able to sleep peacefully, that he actually feels rested when he wakes up in the morning. The thought of going back to that metal box almost makes his body itch with discomfort. 

He’s just so warm and so comfortable and you smell so nice… and Dazai... for the first time in his life, he feels content.

As soon as Dazai is awake, he feels his eyes drooping back shut just as quickly, breath evening out again as he drifts back to sleep.

“So he’s just… living with you now?” Chuuya asks, baffled.

“I mean, I guess so,” you shrug helplessly. “He just… never left after we brought him there that day.”

Never left and brought his few belongings into the spare room he’d been staying in when he was sick, but you don’t add that part. Honestly, you don’t mind that Dazai has usurped your spare room—your apartment is too big for just you to be living in, you don’t mind the company after spending two years alone in Kyoto and Dazai is fun to be around despite the awful movie he picked on Friday and his terrible taste in food. 

Plus, you think it’s a bit of a much deserved, subtle rebellion from Mori, who has seemed to do everything in his power to make sure that the two of you never have time to interact with each other. You’re still not quite sure why he seems to be against the idea of you and Dazai becoming friends—probably something to do with a future plan of his, or maybe he really is just worried that you’ll distract Dazai from the carefully constructed path Mori has set him down—but you’ve decided that you like Dazai and you want to be his friend whether Mori likes it or not… which is saying a lot, considering you don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more than you want to impress Mori.

He’s not happy with you—you can tell by the disapproving stares and the disappointed comments that make you want to curl in on yourself, and you have a feeling that as soon as this conflict is over with, he’s going to send you right back to Kyoto, but that’s an issue for you to deal with in the future. 

For now, you’ll enjoy not being alone. Not having to watch your back and sleep with one eye open. Having people to rely on. 

Having friends. 

“And you didn’t tell him to get the fuck out?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you do that?” Chuuya demands. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“He lived in a shipping container, Chuuya,” you defend yourself, “and I have a spare bedroom, it’s not a big deal.”

Chuuya stares at you for a moment, gaze sharp and accusatory, and then his expression shifts into one of disgust. “No.”

“Excuse me?” you demand, baffled.

“No. No, no, no. No.” Chuuya shakes his head, taking a step away from you. “You need to see a goddamn shrink. There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Something wrong with me? What are you even talking about?” 

Chuuya doesn’t even respond, looking severely disturbed as he storms off in the opposite direction, leaving you standing there, perplexed and slightly insulted. 

“What’s the pipsqueak crying about this time? Is it his height or his terrible taste in clothes?” A familiar voice mocks from behind you. 

You brighten a bit at Dazai’s voice, feeling him hanging over your shoulder as he looks over to where Chuuya had left. His cheek brushes yours from how close he is—he has no concept of personal space, you’ve realized in the past few days he’s decided to make himself at home in your apartment, but you don’t really mind.

“Couldn’t tell you,” you answer. “Just ran off mid-conversation.”

Dazai clicks his tongue. “Stupid slug is always getting emotional about something,” he says. “Whatever. More popcorn for me. I finished my assignment early. Movie?”

“You’re not picking this one.”

“What? My movie was great.”

“Hah! If you say so.”

“I do say so, and I have another that you’re gonna looooove.”

“You will literally have to tie me down and clamp my eyes open to make me watch another movie of yours, Dazai.”

“...”

“... Stop looking at me like that.”

“...”

“Dazai!”

[yuesya]

“Hey! Over here!”

There’s a heavy storm going on; black thunderclouds rolling across the skies and blotting out the heavens above. The rain is so heavy that it’s impossible to make out individual droplets –it feels like there are bucketfuls of water hammering them down into the muddy ground, making each step forward more of a struggle than it already is.

Luckily, it seems that Arni had managed to find a small cave ahead, perfect for waiting out the torrential tempest. Brynja pauses to make sure that none of the children are falling behind, waving her other clansmen onward ahead of herself–

Lightning flashes, illuminating the terrible darkness. For one moment, Brynja can see in perfect detail the weariness on her clansmen’s faces, the tremble in their frames even as they grit their teeth and force themselves to move forward–

And, to the hills behind them, there is a white-haired stranger standing in the rain.

What?

Brynja is one of her tribe’s best archers; her eagle eyes don’t lie. For a single instant beneath the lightning’s glow, Brynja sees a white-haired stranger standing stock-still in the middle of a dangerous storm, and–

And Brynja is moving before she knows it.

“Asco, take over for me for a minute!”

“Brynja, you fucking–”

Asco’s words are drowned in the rumbling thunder that echoes around them, a terrifying roar that Brynja can physically feel down to her bones.

But Brynja is not called fleet-footed for nothing. She reaches her goal swiftly enough.

“Hey! You alright, stranger?” Brynja calls out as she approaches, “This storm is strong and dangerous to wait out with no cover. Would you like to seek shelter with us?”

Even through the gloom of darkness, the stranger’s silhouette is clearly visible –particularly so now that Brynja has closed the distance between them. It startles Brynja to realize that this is quite a young girl, lost and stranded by herself in the middle of a storm like this. Had she been separated from her own clan?

The thought strikes a pang of sympathy within her; Brynja herself was a lost child who’d been fortunate enough to be accepted into her clan when one of their scouts had come across her. Her memories of those times are faded, but there are faint snippets and pieces that she remembers from living like a wild child in the woods.

“Are you lost?” Brynja gentles her voice. “My clan can help.”

For a moment, the white-haired child does not respond. Then, the young girl moves, turning around–

“I’m not lost.”

–and oh, she’s quite pretty, isn’t she? There’s something that’s almost scary about those blue eyes of hers, too; Brynja is a seasoned hunter, and yet even just an idle gaze is enough to send shivers down her spine.

But this does not change the fact that she’s a child.

“If you’re not lost, then why are you standing by yourself in this storm like this?” Brynja coaxes patiently.

“… his voice.”

The wind whips wildly around them; Brynja had lost most of those words just now. “What?”

“I was listening for his voice,” the girl repeats herself quietly.

… She was listening for someone’s voice? In the middle of a storm?

Brynja feels a sudden burst of pity for the child, “There’s no one else out here, child.”

The strange girl shakes her head, “No. He’s still here.”

Brynja thinks that she’s starting to put the facts together: The girl had gotten separated from her clan in this storm, and was listening for a familiar voice in order to find her family. But as far as Brynja is aware, she and her clan are the only other humans around this part of the woods, so the girl must be quite lost.

But, it should be alright. “Even if you’re looking for someone, there’s no point getting yourself sick in the rain like this. Your clan must be headed for that new settlement around these parts too, right?”

“… New settlement?”

“Yup,” Brynja nods. “That’s where my clan is headed, too –apparently the god of these lands is powerful enough to keep their people safe from roaming beasts, so we’re also here to seek sanctuary, gods willing. If your people are headed for the same destination, then you’ll definitely be able to reunite with them there.”

The girl looks at Brynja for a moment, then turns away. “That’s unnecessary.”

Brynja huffs, “Now’s not the time for pointless pride; this storm is dangerous–”

Lightning flashes again. Brynja finds herself freezing, words cutting off on their own in her throat, because…

Why? Why is the girl smiling?

A soft little smile, no more than a slight curve of pale lips on a pale face.

“No storm is dangerous to me.”

… What does that mean? Brynja opens her mouth to ask–

“Brynja! Gods, Brynja, why did you suddenly just take off like that?”

Brynja whirls around, “Asco? Why are you–”

“Do you really need to ask that?” her fellow hunter gives her a withering look, then rolls his eyes and grabs her by the wrist. “C’mon, you’re the last one, let’s get out of this goddamned rain already.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Brynja struggles against her friend’s grip, “We need to help the kid–”

“What kid?”

“Are you blind? There’s a little girl… right… here…?”

Brynja trails off slowly. Because in the spot where that strange white-haired girl had been standing, there’s no one at all.

There’s nothing but empty rain, falling incessantly from the heavens.

Asco frowns, and reaches his other hand up to press against her forehead. “You’re not running a fever, are you?”

“I’m not hallucinating and seeing things!” Brynja knows what she saw. And she’d literally just been talking to the girl! … Even though the girl had somehow just… managed to disappear in the blink of an eye. What was up with that?

“If you say so,” Asco responds dubiously.

Brynja scowls, and kicks him in the shin.

“Motherfu–”

[imaginedisish]

I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.

Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?

Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away

He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him. 

You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction. 

You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett. 

His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—

“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”

You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him. 

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands. 

He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more. 

God, you are so fucked. 

You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed. 

You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you. 

“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room. 

The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean. 

“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag. 

The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack. 

“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to. 

You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip. 

“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now. 

“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself. 

You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt. 

Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.

He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open. 

You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now. 

 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you. 

You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”

You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means. 

His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself. 

“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.” 

He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in. 

“It’s more than that,” you admit. 

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence. 

“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out. 

But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”

Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.  

“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours. 

And then finally, it comes out.

“I want you, Lo.”

You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him. 

So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.” 

He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.” 

And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head. 

He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly. 

“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say. 

He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side. 

“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”

He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.” 

“Fuck me, please.”  

He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.” 

You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you. 

Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.

“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine. 

He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.

“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again. 

He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.

“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”

“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”

“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 

“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for. 

He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out. 

“This what you wanted?” He teases.

“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak. 

“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge. 

“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. 

“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 

You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue. 

“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. 

“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”

There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”

“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.

He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”

“P-please,” you stutter. 

He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest. 

Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles. 

His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire. 

“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses. 

His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster. 

He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.” 

Always. 

It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you. 

He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too. 

“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. 

You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.” 

The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter. 

“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”

You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up. 

“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”

His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them. 

Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then. 

He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—

“I meant it.”

You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing. 

“I meant it, too.” 

tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung

[katsu28]

welcome home, little guy

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: to you, summer break means no races, no responsibilities, and all the poolside piña coladas you can drink. apparently to your boyfriend, it means bringing home a new addition to your family. (1.8k)

a/n: working on way too many things at once rn but i simply couldn't resist <3 lando puppy video u will always be famous to me

To say you’re looking forward to the summer break is an understatement. It’s the first time during the whole season you get to spend two straight weeks with Lando, doing whatever you want, whenever you want. No races, no working, nothing but relaxing with the love of your life for fourteen whole days. You can only imagine the things you’ll do, the places you’ll go. 

Truth be told, he needs this more than you do. Things have been a bit tough lately, on and off the track, so to have some time off to rest and recharge before the second half of the season will be good for him. Good for you too, so you can make sure he isn’t thinking about anything other than his well being. 

You’re buzzing with excitement at the thought of him coming home any minute now, opting to await his arrival in the comfort of your shared apartment instead of braving the swarming crowd you know for a fact is waiting for him when his jet touches down in Nice. You’re so eager you’re surprised you haven’t paced a hole in the living room carpet. You like to think you’ll kiss him stupid once you set eyes on him, though you also think you’re more likely to cry a little first. 

The beep of the front door padlock powering down pulls you out of your thoughts, and then his voice, achingly familiar and soft, “Baby? Are you home?” 

“Yeah!” You say, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet. He appears from the hallway slowly after a few seconds, and his back is facing you, which makes you pause. “Uh…Lan? What’s happening? Why are you facing the other way?” 

“Don’t get mad at me,” He replies over his shoulder, lowering his bag onto the floor gently with one hand. 

You narrow your eyes at his back, suspicious more than anything. “Why? What’ve you—oh my god, please don’t tell me you got that tattoo you were talking about a few weeks ago.”

“Alright, relax, I didn’t get a tattoo,” He huffs. He’s still facing backwards. “Though it’s good to know how unsupportive you’ll be if I ever do get it, thanks, babe.” 

“Seriously, what is going on with you? And for fuck’s sake, love, will you please turn around?”

He spins on his heel gingerly, beaming so bright it rivals the sun. At first, you think it’s because of you, but then you catch sight of what’s most likely the reason for that big smile, and your breath catches in your chest.

The tiniest puppy you’ve ever seen sits snuggled in Lando’s arms, peering out at you with wide eyes. Dark brown fur covers its head and pointy little ears, fading into a lighter coppery color around its eyes before turning pure white at the snout and along the rest of its body. The same lighter brown spreads in a patch along its back. 

“Lando, you did not.” 

“I did.” 

“Are you serious?” 

He smiles guiltily, stepping closer with the pup. “Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I’m…just surprised, is all. How did you—when did you have time to get a dog while you were working?” 

“The team partnered with a shelter for dogs for a video to, like, bring awareness and hopefully get the pups some forever homes, and um, they brought a bunch of puppies,” Lando explains, shifting the puppy a little higher against his chest. You close the leftover gap, reaching out to let the timid pup sniff your hand a few times. “This little guy crawled right up into my lap and didn’t move the whole time we were filming, and I think we just bonded with each other immediately.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” You smile, stroking its soft fur gently. Whether you’re talking to the puppy or Lando, you’re not really sure, but either way, you’re already feeling yourself start to fall in love. 

He gazes down at the dog curled up in the crook of his elbow so fondly you’re almost jealous. You’re not, but you’ve never seen Lando look at anyone or anything with this much love in his eyes before (other than you, and maybe spring rolls). “I know we've never really talked a lot about the right time to get a dog, but I couldn’t—I knew I couldn’t not bring him home with me.” 

The pup leans forward, licking your fingertips with his little pink tongue, and your heart melts into a puddle at your feet. It’s true, you’ve had the dog conversation with Lando many times before, all of which always ended the same way. With Lando being away so much and you with your own job, bringing in a new addition to your lives would be tough to figure out. 

But as Lando transfers him into your arms, and he instantly nestles up against you like you’re his home, every excuse you’ve ever made for not getting a dog flies right out the window. You know it in your heart, this is the dog you and Lando were meant to love. 

“Hi, darling,” You say softly, lifting the pup to your eye level. He’s so small he fits comfortably in two hands, tiny black nose twitching as he cranes his neck out to sniff at you. “You really did a number on this one, huh? Made him fall in love with you?” 

Lando steps behind you, sliding his arms around your waist to bring you flush against him. He hooks his chin over your shoulder comfortably, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he gives the pup scratch under the chin. “Seems like he’s doing the same to you.” 

“Seems like it,” You hum. You bring him back against your chest and up towards Lando, who breaks into a fit of giggles as his nose gets a good few licks. 

“So…can we keep him?” 

“This isn’t going to be easy, Lan, you know that, right?” You say. He nods. “We’ve got to take him to the vet, set up sessions with a trainer, potty train him. Figure out how we’re gonna do this when you’re gone.”

“We’ll figure it out before I leave again, baby. We’ve got time,” He insists, rubbing his hands up and down your arms reassuringly. “Besides, I’ve already asked Charles and Alex for tips, they’re coming round for lunch and a chat as soon as they’re back in Monaco. And they’re bringing Leo, so who knows, maybe these two will become best friends.” 

“Look at you, planning puppy playdates already. He’s got forever with us now, you know? Let’s get him used to us and this place before we introduce him to others, dog dad.” 

Lando scoffs, but not unkindly. More amused than anything. “Well! Seems like we already know which one is going to be the mean parent out of the both of us, don’t we, Archie?” 

“That’s his name? Archie?”

“It’s the one the shelter gave him, but we can still change it if we find one we like more.”

“No, it’s perfect,” You murmur, planting a kiss atop Archie’s furry head. “Welcome home, Archie.” 

“Yeah,” Lando replies, squeezing you a little tighter. “Welcome home, little guy. We love you so much already.” 

You angle your head towards him, catching his chin with your free hand, bringing him towards you and kissing him gently. Lando all but melts into you, happily reciprocating. “Welcome home to you too, my love.” 

“Mm, I’ve missed you,” He hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a content, deflating sigh. “Gonna be a nice break, innit? No more grainy video chats or time differences for fourteen days, just you and me.” 

Archie lets out a whine, the first noise he’s made since Lando’s gotten home, as if to remind the both of you that he’s here too. Lando laughs, smoothing his fingers between the pup’s ears goodnaturedly. “And you too, of course, buddy.” 

You know Archie can’t understand a word either of you say, but the way he cocks his head intuitively makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he might. 

-------

You’re used to Lando being an early riser, but he always stays in bed waiting for you to wake up on his off days, ready to cuddle with you until one of you gets hungry. 

This morning, however, when you lazily reach out an arm to find him, you come up with nothing but cold sheets. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes as much as you can, you squint over at his side of the bed to see his squashed pillow and rumpled duvet, but no Lando. In your half asleep state, part of you thinks you’d just imagined him coming home with a puppy yesterday. 

But then you see the crinkly fish shaped toy on the floor in the hall as you go to find Lando, the one you’d insisted on getting on your impromptu trip to the nearest pet supply store last night despite all his huffing and puffing about it.

It’s Archie’s favorite out of all the toys you’d bought, you’d say, based on the way he’d dragged it around the living room for ages even though it was nearly the size of him. 

Lando’s laying on the floor in the middle of the kitchen when you make your way in, spread eagle on his back with said puppy standing right on his chest. As soon as he spots you, he lifts his head, grinning at you excitedly. Archie takes note of the sudden movement and barks, leaping off Lando and making a beeline straight to where you’re crouched with open hands. 

“Little traitor!” Lando grumbles, pouting as he pulls himself into a cross-legged position. “I’ve played with you for the last hour and you run away as soon as someone else comes along? Rejection is a bitter cold.” 

“Don’t be jealous, Lan. Archie just knows who his favorite is already.”

“That’s bullshit,” He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. He directs his next words at the pup currently enjoying a nice belly rub from you. “Remember who brought you home, Archibald Norris.” 

“Hang on, why does he get your last name? Why can’t it be mine?” 

Lando shrugs nonchalantly. “Mine’s got a better ring to it. Duh.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s my son too, he should have my last name!” 

“Fine, we’ll hyphenate. Happy?” 

Your nose scrunches, head tilting side to side in contemplation. “Mm, feels like the short end of the stick, but I’ll take it. Alright buddy, go to your dad! Go, go!” You encourage, throwing the fish toy you’d picked up towards Lando. 

“Not the fucking fish!” He yelps, but he grabs it anyway, scrambling to his feet to have Archie come after him in pursuit of his beloved toy. Archie barks up a storm as he chases Lando, tongue lolling out of his mouth, little legs moving as quick as they can. 

Sure, maybe there won't be any jet setting away on holiday during this break, but it’s fine. You haven’t seen Lando look this happy in a long time now, so you don’t care at all, really. 

In fact, as you watch Lando and Archie run around the apartment like they’ve been best buddies forever, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[seventeenpins]

new rules

pairing: ex!Worst!Logan Howlett x f!reader word count: 2.7k summary: You've been broken up for long enough. It shouldn't be this hard to stay away. content/warnings: smut, angst, Logan's a disaster alcoholic, suicidal ideation, unhealthy relationships, big dick a/n: I didn't expect the Logan bug to bite me, but here I am, horny for this old man, writing a songfic in the year of our lord two thousand twenty four. Dua Lipa's "New Rules" came on shuffle and I needed to make it about our big boy. Thank you to the loml @ozarkthedog for being the best human alive and also for hyping me up, reading it thru, and telling me "it made me actually want to try to fix him" 😅

You’re in your pajamas, toothbrush in hand and moisturizer shining on your face, when the screen of your phone lights up. You wince when you see the contact name.

DO NOT PICK UP

You watch as it rings out, and you exhale when the comfort of the black screen returns.

And then it lights up again.

Just ignore it. Just ignore it.

As you’re spitting your toothpaste into the sink, the screen lights up again, DO NOT PICK UP flashing across.

It’s a bad idea. It’s always a bad idea. 

But as it lights up a fourth time, you hit accept. As you bring the phone to your ear, you already know what you’re going to say; you need to stop calling like this; have you been drinking?; this isn’t going to happen again–

And then you hear his voice. It’s just a single word, and comes out more as a croak than anything else.

“Hi, baby-”

Just like the first time. The third. The five hundredth. It makes you fucking melt, makes your body heat and your stomach flip.

“Hi Logan.”

—

“It’s been too long, sweetheart-” 

“Yeah, well-” you sigh. You know how this always goes. “I told you not to call.”

“But you answered.” 

Even over the line he sounds smug. You wish you could punch him, god, if only. But you knew from past experience that his adamantium bones and entirely unfair regenerative powers would leave him perfectly unblemished, while you nursed a broken hand.

“Sooo-,” you venture, “Is there something you need?”

It was better to play clueless, you reasoned; You weren’t gonna jump the gun. You would make him spell it out.

"Just you, hon,” his voice is low and dangerous and you think you might really hate him this time.

“You know it’s nearly midnight, don’t you? Are you ever gonna call me when you’re sober?”

You hear a noncommittal grunt on the other end.

“What do you want, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Can I come over? I’ve just been missing you. Been a rough day.”

“No.”

“Please, baby? I need you. Please?”

You close your eyes and exhale. Ten calls ago, you might have tried to hide the frustration, but you’re well beyond that now.

It’s always a bad idea. Always makes you remember the bits of him you miss desperately. Your nights together. How you still fucking love him.

“Can take care of you, princess-“ he pleads.

“I hate when you call me that. And no, you can’t. You can’t even take care of yourself, Howlett.”

He huffs a laugh. “Been doin’ alright a couple hundred years. Keepin’ myself alive.”

You don’t want to say the question neither of you will acknowledge.

Is this really living?

“Fine. You can come over.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Motherfucker-! Have you been on your way this whole time, Lo?”

With a snort, he ends the call.

He’s on you before you can even get the door closed behind you. His hands are cradling your head as he kisses you deeply. You were right; he tastes like cheap whiskey. And cigarettes, you realize. Fucking cigarettes. And then you remember– he’s all but abandoned his cigars, as though the pain of losing a vice was part of his penance. 

With an awkward foot you try to hook the bridge of your foot along the edge of the door, pull at it, but instead of closing it you just overbalance, tumbling further into him.

He catches you as if it was nothing, as if he were so innately steady he’d always be there to break your fall.

When he has you back on your feet, he gets right back to it, tearing at your clothing and his, pulling your top over your head, fumbling with the drawstring of your bottoms. He cups your breasts, pinching and teasing, and walks you backwards till the backs of your knees hit the foot of your bed and you tumble. 

Logan tumbles with you, his hold on you never ceasing, and now you can feel how hard he is against you.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

You’ve missed this. Fuck you’ve missed this. What kind of self-destructive dumbass judgment were you letting rule you? 

You need to gain some control back.

“Condom,” you tell him. 

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not joking, Logan. Should still be in the top drawer.”

He exhales with a chuckle, but pulls his beater over his head and lets you get an eyeful of his toned chest before leaning over and sliding the drawer open.

Then, he rummages around, pulling back with a shit-eating grin. 

In his hand is a roll of condoms, classic fit.

“You got a little boyfriend?” he asks, and you feel your face heat.

“Shut the fuck up, Logan.”

“Now I’m not seeing the Magnum’s in here. You sure you still have them? Or are you so busy fucking dumbass boys with little pricks that you can’t even bother to pick up the phone?”

“The condoms are just in case– better to be prepared– and besides it’s none of your fucking business if I’m sleeping with anyone else!”

“You know I can’t get STIs, right?”

You do know. You remember that first conversation years ago. You grit your teeth.

“And if you’re so worried,” he continues, “I’ll buy you Plan B.”

“Move,” you tell him, and he scoots back so you can look in the drawer yourself. Much to your chagrin, he’s right. Not a single gold packet in sight.

You groan, and he laughs.

You should tell him no. Should tell him that if he wants to fuck you, he needs to go out and get some. Because it’s not even the risk of any sort of transmission, or even the risk of pregnancy that gives you pause. It’s the intimacy. The way you can hardly bear it when you can feel him dripping out of you. The love you still have for him, even after everything. 

The way you know he still needs you, too. More than you need him. But after everything he’s done, everything he’s been through, everything he’s lost– you can’t bear to be another thing he loses, not fully.

But now he’s straddling you, scooting you backwards towards the head of the bed. His cock presses heavy against your thigh, and you’re so overwhelmed by the way he’s pressing kisses along your jaw and nibbling behind your ear, you barely notice as he lifts your hips to pull your panties down. His nails scrape down your back and the angry scratches start to bloom with heat. 

You don’t realize you’re both fully naked until you feel the heat from him press against you, the slick of his weeping cockhead dragging a trail just below your navel, down down down-

He strokes himself twice and lines himself up, pressing against your opening. You wait for the feeling, for the way he always slams inside you, but he surprises you. Presses the tip in and rocks himself gently, easing you open.

After a moment (and hardly a single inch) he pulls out and sits up.

For a gut-wrenching second, you think he’s changed his mind, and how fucking dare him? He’s not the one who gets to back out of this. Fuck.

But then his cock is replaced with his hand, and he pumps himself with his left, while pressing inside of you with his right, scissoring his fingers open, pulling whine and moan and gasp out of you, coaxing you along with his filthy mouth the whole way.

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs, letting out a groan when you squirm against him, “You’re tight as the first time I fucked you. Clearly no one’s been takin’ care of this pussy, huh?”

Two fingers become three, and you’re overwhelmed with sensation, pleasure taking over any rational thought.

“That’s it, honey, open up for me. Such a shame no one’s been fuckin’ you right. Would make you feel good every damn day if you’d let me.”

He rubs against your clit in unyielding circles and pulls you right to the edge. You feel yourself dripping, thighs trembling, and tears rolling down your face, but just as you’re about to cum he stops. He guides your arms upwards and pins you down by the wrists with one rough hand and leans over, caging you against the bed. In a second beat, he knocks your legs wide, baring you fully, and he presses himself in. You’re beyond slick and the glide is exquisite. The feeling of his bare cock pressing into you makes you shudder with arousal. The wiry hairs at the base of his cock grind against you, making you shake. 

He fucks you deep and slow. The drag is exquisite. He pulls almost the whole way out, before rocking back in again, his foreskin adding to the delicious glide. With every thrust he’s burying himself so deeply you’d swear you could feel him in your belly.

“You’re openin’ up so nice, takin’ it so good,” he growls, and you feel a thrill of pleasure bloom through your body at the praise. “Been missin’ this. Miss how soft you feel around me. Have you been missin’ your old man, too?”

You don’t even register he’s asked a question till his palm is swatting your jaw. It’s not painful, it doesn’t even sting. And it does exactly what he’d hoped; it refocuses you on him.

“Wha- What?” you ask, coming back to him, whilst feeling your peak build and build and build-

“Have you been missin’ your old man, princess? 

“Fuck you, Logan.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes-”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes I’ve been missing you. Stop looking at me like that, Lo. C’mon now, fuck me like you mean it.”

You can’t deal with him being sincere right now. You need it rough and you need it mean.

It takes him a moment to pull himself away but then he does, obliging as if he can read your thoughts. He pulls out, leans back, hooks your legs over his shoulders, and makes you moan as he folds you in half. He’s pressing so much deeper now than he had only a moment ago. Any gentleness that had been there disappears immediately.

He’s panting, letting out heavy grunts as he slams into you and sweat drips down his temple. 

As he fucks you, he drives into you cruelly but you match each thrust. Every time he knocks you back, you press against him harder and heavier. Make sure it hurts, for both of you.

He’s never been a selfish lover and makes you scream on his cock, cumming three times in rapid succession, each peak that little bit higher. Each peak is a little bit harder. 

You’re boneless and spent. When he cums inside you, his claws shoot out, angrily splintering existing notches on your headboard. Blood trickles down between his knuckles. One drop lands on your lips, the perfect kiss from this mess of a man. Another drop lands on your new linen pillowcase.

At least you got those tide pens. 

You want to tell him off about the headboard–the splintered edges are ugly and ragged. But the fact you hadn’t gotten a new headboard is kind of on you. It may as well be an invitation.

You add a note to your shopping list. Plan B.

—-

You wake up alone in a dark room. The first thing you see is your bedside alarm clock, red blinking numbers telling you it’s 3:12 AM. Then, you hear a rustling in your living room.

You step out to investigate, bleary-eyed, to find Logan silhouetted in front of your liquor cabinet, bottle of amber liquid in hand. He raises the bottle and takes a swig.

Back to this-

"Go home, Logan.” You tell him, and he startles at your voice.

"Baby- I been havin’ bad dreams-” 

You cut him off. "I’ll call you a cab. You’re not staying here, trying to drink yourself to death on my sofa-”

"Sweetheart,” he cuts in, “You know it never sticks-“ 

He says it with a grin like it means nothing, and it’s mean. Makes your stomach flip.

This is the closest either of you had ever gotten to the depths of it all. You’d both been pretending for so long.

You leave the room.

A minute later, you’re back, and Logan has emptied the bottle.

"Get dressed.” You toss his shirt at him. It smacks him in the face and falls unceremoniously to the floor. “Cab’s on its way. You owe me for the whiskey.”

He nods. His movement is loose, and you can see the booze is finally affecting him. More than just making him gutsy, it’s making him sloppy. Every movement is sluggish as he redresses.

"You wanna know why?” He asks, and it comes out slurred.

You ignore him. “I’ll walk you down. Get home safe, okay?”

He nods again. Looks like he’s trying to put on a show to prove just how sincere he is.

You kick his shoes towards him, and help him with his jacket when he struggles.

A horn honks outside, and you both look to the window. When you turn your head back, though, he’s only inches away from you, whiskey-breath across your cheek, and a wearier frown than he’s ever let you see before.

"When I drink I don’t dream-,“ he tells you, “Claws don’t come out.”

Then he kisses you on the cheek, turns on his heel with an unsteady sway, and leaves your home.

You struggle for hours to fall back asleep, the bed suddenly much too big.

You ignore his calls for a week. They come through later and later. Nine PM, ten. Midnight. Two.

And then one night you get a text. 

He’s rarely one for texting, so to see the notification makes your heart speed up and your stomach flip.

DO NOT PICK UP - Attachment: 1 Video

With a single, hesitant tap, you open it.

You’re not sure what you expected. Something dramatic, maybe? Something miserable? You hope to god he’s not figured out some way to make himself an adamantium bullet. It’s a fear that’s bounced around in your head for a while now, but you’d never ask just in case he hasn’t thought of it yet himself.

Whatever it is, though, it has to be something that will make your heart ache and your head spin and–

It’s anticlimactic. Kind of.

It’s just a video of him, phone angled to show him in his steamed-up mirror.

There are dark shadows beneath his red-rimmed eyes, but besides that, he looks as perfect as ever. You can’t see below his hips, but you know Logan and you know he’s fully naked. His body hair is slick, his skin glowing from being freshly showered.

This fucking asshole knows exactly how to get you.

You hit play. 

At first, you can barely tell it’s a video. And then you see the way his arm is moving. He’s holding his phone with one hand, his other casually stroking himself just below the frame of the video.

“You gonna stop ignoring me?” he asks, his voice a throaty purr. “Quit playing games. Get your ass over here and let me take care of you.”

AND, you realize with a twinge, you text with him so rarely, you never turned off read receipts.

Three dots appear and you know that he knows you’ve seen it. 

A moment later, the text comes through.

“Ready for you, princess.”

God, if only it would take more than that.

As if overtaken by a horny ghost, you’re already slipping your panties off and putting on your favorite skirt. 

You’re at his house an hour later. 

You let him guide you. Taste you. Fuck you. Fight with you. 

You let him devour you, and let yourself fall in with him, in with the guilt and the anger and the hate and self-pity.

And fuck, it’s the love, too. It never went away.

[ham1lton]

HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)

pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.

warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.

summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.

author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3

— a part of the maneater series ꕤ

liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?

view all comments

user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭

user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.

user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.

-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.

user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.

user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!

user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.

user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.

-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?

user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?

user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.

-> user4: you’re a victim 😕

user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.

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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.

yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?

view all comments

bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!

-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!

user1: is she not even gonna address it?!

-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.

user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.

landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?

-> georgerussell63: or me?!

-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨

-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕

-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.

user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.

user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.

*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *

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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.

yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎

view all comments

user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.

-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?

-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.

user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.

-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.

user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.

-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!

user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.

user67: she’s still ugly.

-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.

user12: when he leaves her >>>>

-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12

-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&

user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.

-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.

user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.

-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.

user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭

liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.

maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3

view all comments

bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.

-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.

oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!

bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!

lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝

-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12

-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭

don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3

[anthonycrowley]

the neil gaiman sa allegations are wild because i’m sitting here like wow neil gaiman had an incredibly intense impact on me in a variety of ways for at least the better part of a decade like at the very least most of my friends i made directly or indirectly with my connection with gomens and i think it’s fair to say that if anyone has made gomens a personality trait it’s me. and i saw that five separate women (so far) came forward saying at the very least he’s a fucking creep who preys upon women who he holds power over so i went wow that’s disgusting i don’t think i will be supporting this man financially any longer. at the very least. like i will make a conscious effort to not support. this fucking. predator. and then i go onto the wider internet and people i hold in high regard are like neilman sa allegations? what’s that? news outlets i hold in high regard are like neilman sa allegations? what are those? and i feel like i am actually for real going insane. why are you gaslighting me pretending the author of my favorite book doesn’t have active sa allegations against him. why are you making me, a fan, be the one to get this news out to the best of my ability (which i feel like i have to do, because i’m a fucking gomens blog) even though i’d rather stick a fork in my hand than discuss this topic more than i absolutely have to. okay i know why it’s because neil is tied up financially in a lot of projects and you as people i respect don’t want to get on his bad side so you can continue to make bank. but also. oh my god. someone in the science fiction/fantasy world grow a fucking spine and take a financial hit for your morality and if you believe in that sort of thing eternal soul just once challenge.

[hazelfoureyes]

for your consideration:

a reader who’s genuinely more powerful than Alastor is. maybe they’re royalty or another overlord or maybe they simply just have a more commanding presence than him, but in any way, he hates it. he goes out of his way to try to one-up them (much like how he did with Lucifer), but the reader never falters, ever-calm and ever-in control. it infuriates Alastor to no end— not only because of the simple fact that he isn’t the strongest person in the room anymore, but also because the reader never treats him like he’s lesser than them. they treat him like an equal, and it makes him even angrier.

when they fuck for the first time, it’s a last-ditch attempt for Alastor to regain control— and it fails, because even though Alastor is on top with his nails digging into the reader’s skin, doing his very best to cause the pain he knows he can cause, the reader still just stares up at him, taking it like they always do. no tears fall from their eyes, no pleads fall from their lips. Alastor is dissatisfied— very much so. so they do it again. and again. and again, until it’s something of a game between them. until one day, the reader’s composure finally shatters.

they’ve had enough of Alastor’s attitude and disrespect, and they tell him as much. they pin him down, snarling about his god complex and his twisted sadism and how long they’ve been waiting to put him in his place. and Alastor finds that no matter how much he struggles, he can’t get that control that had been so rudely snatched from him back. but the thing is— a part of him likes it. really, really likes it— that loss of power that should be his and his alone, being held just out of his petulant reach. it brings him a sick feeling that he’s never felt before and can’t get enough of.

that part grows and grows until he’s the one crying and begging and squirming weakly underneath the reader, both his smile and his mind threatening to break as the reader fucks him relentlessly. no matter how many times either of them cums, the reader doesn’t stop, not until Alastor is screaming his apologies, over and over and over again. he hates it. he loves it.

when it’s all over, and when the reader has settled, Alastor makes them promise that they will never speak of this again. without a hint of smugness, the reader agrees— but maybe the next time Alastor is acting up, the reader will only have to give him a look. and he will know.

I know this wasn’t a prompt necessarily but don’t think you can come into MY HOUSE and lay a feast in front of me and not expect I’d dig in 👏 face 👏 first 👏 so here’s me just kinda riffing off your DELICIOUSLY WRITTEN MESSAGE. NO TIME TO EDIT A CUTE REPLY IMAGE

Wrapped around Your Finger (Ace Alastor bottoms for a GN!Seraphim Reader short smut)

Warnings/Promises: 🗣️ ALASTOR GETS FINGERED, Gender Neutral Reader x Alastor smut, hate fucking, bondage, initial dubcon, Ace Alastor, scratching, kinda degradation kink, Angel Reader, Reader is a good friend, Protect Angel Dust at all costs

minors dni

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ When Lucifer introduced a defected Seraphim to the hotel, Alastor’s smile dropped. You had feet yet to him you seemed to glide through the hotel halls effortlessly. You were impeccably dressed, ever polite, well mannered, clean. It was driving him mad. Yes, Alastor knew the importance of being well groomed. He exalted manners and gentility. He disliked grime and thought a lack of personal hygiene was an actual sin. But the sight of you, every fucking day with that ever present soft smile on your lips? Your gaze, always gentle as you listened to sinners explain their dreams of redemption. Nails on a chalkboard. Every room you were in, all eyes turned to you. It was if the air itself was pulled into your charms.

Every one in the hotel either feared Alastor or, at least, failed to hide their annoyance when He’d sneak up on them or touch them without warning. Of course, not you. Alastor shocked himself with his antics in attempt to make you react to him at all. Charlie would pull him aside weekly, asking what the actual fuck? “Why did you say that? They know they aren’t from here, we all know that, but telling them they are most unnatural creature to ever exist in Hell? And I don’t think it was an accident you knocked their drink over. Al, you are being a bully.” Yes, and he was sorry. Sorry he was so ineffective. Not even a fucking knitted brow so much as flashed at him when he spilled your drink down your chest. You smiled, you had the audacity to smile at him and say, “Whoops. Your monocle isn’t prescription, huh?” He only had one option left to push you beneath him—-rip you to pieces. Any thing to get you to look at him differently than all the other weak souls mulling about in hell.

Alastor had seen you fight, when an overlord came to the hotel to taste seraphim blood, all of the Pride Ring saw your power. Arms out stretched, a glow came from your palms, yellow and bright. With the speed of someone enjoying a breakfast on the patio on a Sunday in hell, you knelt down and pressed your palms into the ground. A flash of light and power rung out from you and blinded everyone watching, but Alastor could see you as he melted into the deepest shadows your light created. White and gold glowing shards erupted from the dirt, fracturing the grounds of the hotel lawn as they formed a jagged but intelligent line straight for the demon. The overlord barely recovered from the blinding effect of your power before a glass-like piece shot from the ground and straight through his chest. It was over in seconds, and you had never dropped your soft grin.

He was prideful, but not stupid. A test, a little experiment first. When you watched sweetly from the sidelines and Charlie directed yet another meaningless activity, Alastor stood opposite you. Your eyes flitted from person to person, your smile small but genuine. Were you glowing? He had had enough. He reached his shadow appendages out and wrapped one around your ankle, as it gripped and prepared to drag you to the floor in what he hoped would be an embarrassing display, nothing happened. As the tentacle touched you, it dissipated. Your light entirely erasing the shadow.

He felt his mind breaking. Every night he paced, feeling your overwhelming presence in the hotel even at such a distance. He decided to try the one thing he’d never tried. Atleast, not since coming to hell. You were always so accommodating, maybe to a fault? He found you in kitchen, alone, making yourself some sickeningly sweet drink. Your body froze when Alastor pressed against you from behind. But, you didn’t make a sound. “Apologies, I don’t think I can suffer any longer.” He ground his hips into your ass, “I never do this, a gentleman through and through. But you see, as a deer demon, sometimes there are periods of—- unbearable discomfort. I can’t focus on redemption like this.”

Alastor was shocked when you swiveled around, eyes closed from your smile, and said, “I came here to help. What can I do?”

He couldn’t understand it. Bent over the counter in the common area, his nails cutting lines down your sides that healed with a frustrating speed, you just sighed into him. Little moans, soft exhales. He slammed your hips against him, the sound ringing through the kitchen. But still, your eyes were closed but not clenched. Your sounds small and even. The only thing keeping him hard was your hand, reached back and digging nails into his thighs. The tiniest hint of your true feelings. He’d bury his mind where your hand tore his skin and find release. Happy to see you at least a little less perfectly assembled after.

Alastor would find you at the most inconvenient times, in the most public settings, and find some excuse to need to fuck you. At one point a sinner even walked in on you two, and to Alastor’s palpable dismay, you apologized to the sinner for blocking the ice machine.

Your resolve finally snapped, however, when Alastor stepped past a line he didn’t know you had. Alastor had you, uncharacteristically, in your bed. He always spoke during sex but now, now it was genuinely grating you. “You’re such a whore, coming to Hell just to eat demon cock. If you drowned in cum you’d probably respawn as an even bigger slut than Angel Dust.” You sat up, one hand on his chest and the other under his armpit, and flipped him onto his back. Alastor’s arm moved to push back, but he found both wrists held down to the bed with a signature glow.

“If you knew Angel half as well as you pretended, you’d know how fucking stupid you sound.” Your hands gathered his cum from earlier that evening, slowly dripping out of you with the sudden change in position. “He’s the whore? Who stalks this hotel, hungry for any ounce of attention? A petulant child willing to embarrass others just so teacher notices them?” Your hand began to pump his cock. Alastor thrashed, he hated people handling his dick, but that was overshadowed by his disgust of having his semen spread over his skin. The sensation made his skin crawl and he would have gone soft but when he met your gaze he only grew harder in your fist. Your eyes were alight, figuratively and literally. The rage on your face made his smile drop entirely. You looked like you hated him. “If he is a whore, then you are Mary Magdalene. I’ll wash your feet for you, sinner.” You used your knees to spread open his untethered legs.

“I know you, Alastor,” the fingers of your other hand slicked through the lathered cum dripping down his ass and began to massage at his hole. “Your greatest sin wasn’t murder. It was pride. Never could let anyone see the famous Radio star with even a hair out of place. You’d drop your morals for even a taste of an improved social image. Even in death, you abuse and hound others who dare to make you feel less than how you demand you look from the outside.” He wanted to say anything, argue, roar, but his jaw was locked in place. Your eyes never left his, and soon his vision was darkening around your luminescent stare. A finger slipped into him, slowly but with resistance.

“Tell me to stop.” Your hand slowed to let his muscles relax around your digit before picking up speed again, curving your palm over his head with every pull upward, “Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll go right back to who I always am, and always will be. I’ll smile at you every morning and move out of your way with a nod in the halls. Say ‘stop’.” Your words were threats, not idle or hollow and it made Alastor’s thighs twitch. Go back? Return to looking at him like you truly wanted the best for him despite how dirty his hands were? Soft eyes threatening to make him melt into a lesser, weaker man?

You were in him to the knuckle, finger prodding and twirling.

His eyes were wide but focused on you. Alastor thought his soul would evaporate, your face a sneer he’d never been so lucky to even imagine before now. He could feel you around him, in him.

A tiny, halted, “S-,” was forced through his teeth.

Stop?

Slower?

He shook his head, eyes fluttering closed.

“God, you’re pathetic. What about a sorry? Can you manage a single apology for your comments tonight? I’ll let you roll me back into the mattress, for a sincere ‘sorry’.” Alastor's knees hitched, his head fell back, and he came over your knuckles with a pained groan. But you didn’t stop. You’d get your reply, eventually.

Alastor gave a threat of his own when you finally got your apology, half screamed through his third orgasm, and let him flee your bed. You nodded and agreed, yes yes, this never happened blah blah yet another example of your enormous pride.

After that night, any time Alastor wanted to yank on Husk’s chains, or double speak someone into a deal, he’d pause and look around. Expecting your two golden lit eyes to be staring, ready to flip him onto his back and drag several more apologies from him.

༻Masterlist༺

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

[panbotter]

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”

[ilyrafe]

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅'𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x ex-girlfriend!reader

warnings: angst

word count: 1k

“hi, rafe.”

just your voice is enough to decentralize him entirely. he didn’t expect to see you at sarah’s party, only because he didn’t know you were back to kildare.

you look beautiful as always. your hair is shorter, but that’s the only thing that has changed about you, at least, it’s what he can assume. the flower crown you’re wearing adorns your sage green dress beautifully.

“hi.” he takes a sip of his mock tail, trying to pretend he’s cool with you there, as if he knew.

“how have you been?”

“good.”

you know rafe too well. his short answers tell you he’s not at all amused by your presence, and that breaks your heart even more. he looks so handsome with a buzzcut, and it’s like he knows it.

“i guess you didn’t know i was coming.” you chuckle quite awkwardly. “sarah convinced me to come, she said it wouldn’t be an issue, but... if you want me to leave, i will.”

“i really don’t care what you do, y/n.”

you sigh, defeated. he’ll never forgive you for what you said. you thought that maybe he would have changed, or at least, understood your point, but you see that he hasn’t done either.

“okay, um... i’ll see you around, rafe.”

he watches you leave, and you’re not even pretending to be happy. he ruined your mood and he knows it. rafe sees sarah comforting you, and she shoots him a glare, making him roll his eyes and leave his spot at the bar.

he should probably leave, too.

when he turns his back and makes his way inside tanney hill, he doesn’t look back. he goes straight to his bedroom and plops down on his king sized bed. the music is muffled, thank god.

he’s been trying to make amends with sarah, even letting her come back home and be with john b in peace. sure, he doesn’t get along with the pogues, but if accepting them is what it takes for him to have the smallest sense of peace, he’ll do it.

rafe has also decided to get sober. after almost dying of an overdose, he was really scared and decided to quit. he wants to make ward proud. staying away from alcohol is a lot harder than quitting coke and marijuana, it turns out. the mock tails aren’t as enjoyable.

as if doing all that isn’t hard enough, you’re back. and with you being back, all of the feelings he’s successfully repressed are coming back up again, stronger than ever.

he hates that he’s given you this amount of power over him.

rafe never did feelings before, and the one time he did, you left him because of himself. rafe is his worst enemy.

he really loved you. well, scratch that. he never stopped loving you. you took care of him, you improved his relationship with ward and sarah. you asked him to quit drugs and selling it. you listened to him and you took none of his bullshit. you held him accountable while giving him grace.

deep down, he knows he fucked up. he wasn’t ready to grow up, but no one likes to say they’re wrong, do they?

“i just think it’s funny how you really believe this little island is an entire world for you.” you snorted. “but i know why you don’t wanna leave this shit hole. you’re a nobody outside the outer banks. there is no “kook versus pogue” once you step out of this place. you’re just another trust fund baby with drug issues to everyone else, rafe.”

he never understood your incessant need to “explore the world”, it’s so childish. you always talked about how you wanted to live in paris, toronto, tokyo, london, seoul, or berlin or whatever (honestly, you have mentioned so many cities, he has lost count), and you always said that you would be happy anywhere else, but rafe doesn’t see himself being happy far from north carolina. from kildare. from tanney hill. it’s where he comes from and where he wants to die. it’s what he knows.

a knock on his bedroom door interrupts his thoughts. rafe huffs and rolls his eyes. when he opens the door, he comes across you.

“what do you want?” he questions, irritated.

you enter his room and close the door behind you, drowning out the noise of the music once again. you’ve missed his bedroom. his bed.

“i think... i think i owe you an apology,” you say. “i shouldn’t have been so mean to you that day, it wasn’t right.”

rafe remains quiet, sitting on his bed, just listening to you talk.

“i just… i never liked it here, and i end up projecting that onto others, and i did that to you. i’m sorry.”

in theory, hearing you apologize should be gratifying, but rafe can’t identify any sign of regret in you. it’s not that he doesn’t think your apology is insincere, it’s that the regret he wanted to see doesn’t exist. you don’t regret leaving kildare nor leaving him.

“apology accepted.”

“thank you.” you smile.

“y/n, are you happy?” he asks.

“hm?”

“are you happy there?”

your smile and small nod tells everything he didn’t want to know. you are happy. in fact, you’re happier than ever.

“i am.”

rafe has vivid memories with you, and your smile has never been so wide, your eyes have never been so bright. maybe this will take him to hell, but he hates that you’re genuinely happy away from there, especially because he isn’t happy. and if he is not happy in where he feels he belongs most, there is no place in the world that makes him happy. 

maybe happiness isn’t an option for him, and the most upsetting thing about this is that money really can’t buy happiness. not the one rafe really needs anyways.

you want to tell rafe how you’re enjoying life for the first time, how being independent is amazing, but also sucks, but it’s still amazing, how the feeling of achieving something on merit is indescribable... but rafe would never understand.

it’s funny how two people who are so similar at first are so different in the end.

“that’s all that matters to me, then.”

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

[glossykissies]

thinking about what reader i’d pair with soldier boy and it only feels right he gets handed spoiledbrat!reader. bratty, high maintenance, pouty. soldier boy might’ve been a god-like supe with damn near all the power in the world, but at the end of the day he was also a man… and you were packaged to him like a god damn fantasy.

it was so conflicting to him, you were simultaneously everything that got him off in a woman all while challenging his beliefs. feminine, soft, supple, pink and glittering — sure, but also you had the craziest attitude, you swore like a sailor and you were demanding. it made his fists clench, and dick swell.

the first time he’d been introduced to you with the boys, having found yourself wrapped up in their world — you were the only one in the room who he detected not an ounce of fear from. you. the little thing in the corner leaning on her hip, more interested in her nail bed than the banished supe.

immediately, and much to butchers irritation (he was pushed for time, and trying to stay on track here.) soldier boy focused his attention on you, taking a draw of his cigar from the couch in the hide-out apartment.

“and who’s this pretty little poodle? you fellas let a fan tag along?” his voice is smooth and rumbly like wheels on gravel and you raise a perfectly plucked brow.

“please.”

he hums out a chuckle, not hiding the way his eyes drag up and down your body. he was used to just taking what he wanted, his time being one of those things.

“so if we could just—” hughie steps forward cautiously, attempting to regain the supes attention to get things back on track but is immediately silenced by soldiers boy lifting a hand, eyes still on you.

“no really. what’s the deal with strip-club-barbie? i have met all of you cock suckers but she’s new. if she’s not a welcome gift, what the fuck is she doing in here listening in?”

“shes one of us.” butcher gruffs, shuffling in his chair, antsy to start explaining his diabolical plans.

“yeah? what’s her thing? you fellas passin’ her around in whatever fuck-dungeon you hole up in?” he teases, and before anyone can say anything — you’re defending yourself.

“jesus christ, get with the fucking times, old man.”

soldier boy smirks, and a tense silence falls over the room — half expecting to watch you get thrown through the thin walls of the apartment at record breaking speed. surprisingly, after he’d taken an amused and analytical gaze your way — he leisurely turned his attention back to butcher. “alright, out with this plan. don’t have all day.” he drawls, taking another drag. you roll your eyes at the fact he literally has nothing else to do, and you’re sure he notices.

most of your interactions went that way after that. soldier boy would make some kind of demeaning or misogynistic comment, you’d snap back, he’d either be amused or weakly threaten you. it was like clock work, but seem to put everyone on edge every single time.

there were many times the boys thought you were done for, hurling names and insults at him when he’d caused them more harm than good — only to have him stroll right past you, uninterested in your girly tantrum and not even struggling to totally ignore you. sometimes you would irritate him, only to get a “brats like you need to be put in their place. i’m warning you.” and maybe he’d smirk because he could just sense your little clit twitching.

there was even a time all of you had to pile into one car, getting away quickly after a mission gone south. you were the last in, and there were no seats left for you.

“just fuckin’ get in would ya?” billy commanded loudly, trying to keep an eye on the oncoming commotion. soldier boy smirks, completely suited up, damn near taking up two seats in the backseat and pats his thigh, spreading his legs.

“i am not sitting on him. someone get in the trunk.” you argue, crossing your arms all spoilt.

“just grab her!” hughie exasperates from the passenger seat, used to your ways. without hesitation, soldier boy yanks you into the car with ungodly strength, pulling the door shut as they drive off. you wriggle and fight until he’s got you situated — the mountain of a bulge pressed up against your panties beneath your skirt, legs spread a little on his lap.

you give him a sulky look over your shoulder, and despite the chaos in the front of the car — he’s utterly relaxed and unbothered by everything that just unfolded. in fact, he leans back with that same smirk — adjusting his hips, nudging the fat lips of your pussy open through your panties with his bulge. he watches your eyes nearly roll back like a baby-doll.

you turn back to the front, irritated and overstimulated, breathing all heavy and mad. never in all his years has he seen a woman fight against her urges like you were. he puts his hands on your hips and you dig your nails into his skin, sustaining no damage. you scratch harder, tearing and attacking him like a baby kitten and he gazes happily out the window, unmoved.

you try to chime into the conversation up front, try to stay tuned — but everytime butcher carelessly flies over a speed bump you’re being practically forcefully dry fucked by the supe. you’re sure he could even feel you leaving a wet patch — and surprisingly, when you all pile out the vehicle solider boy doesn’t bring it up. the gratification of flustering you enough to keep him happy.

the breaking point comes when you’re appointed to ‘babysit’ him back at the hiding apartment. literally no one else is free, but they need someone there to make sure he’s where he needs to be. there’s nothing you could do to stop him from leaving, but whilst he agreed to stay there — you were sticking around to make sure he keeps his word, strictly told to alert one of the boys if he exits.

“look, i’m sorry. i would take your place but i have to help annie.” hughie stresses apologetically as they walk you up to the building.

“i’ll be fine.” you roll your eyes, more irritated that you were missing your nail appointment for this shit.

“and keep that mouth in check, yeah? i don’t fancy scraping your intestines off the walls so keep a lid on it today.” butcher warns, sending you a look before you run off.

when you walk in, he’s chowing down on a burger. so american.

“well if it isn’t my favourite.” he drawls, more interested in the TV.

“whatever. i’m here to babysit you.” you sark, setting down your purse and rifling through it for your phone charger, spotting the pink wire tangled at the bottom of your bag.

“babysittin’ huh? you certainly had the sitting part down last time i saw you. maybe today we can work on the baby part.” he chuckles at his own joke, bringing the mouth of his beer bottle to his lips.

“shutup. you know i had no choice.” you don’t know why you get so defensive, strutting over to block his view of the television — staring down at the hulk of the man resting with his feet up.

“that why i could feel your little pussy throbbing? beggin’ me to help her out? christ, maybe if you got some dick you’d quit bitching all the time.”

maybe he was right.

it’s how you end up blubbering on your back with the backs of your knees in his huge hands.

“shit, maybe i’ve been missin’ a trick with this young pussy stuff. fuckin’ perfect.” his heavy cock brushes your folds as he stretches your legs up into a humiliating pose, not caring for your sniffles and angry pouts. he pushes your knees up higher with an intrigued smirk. “you’re flexible, huh? what, were you a cheerleader in high school or something?”

“are you gonna fuck me or what?” you whine, so needy and petulant that it makes him smile.

“you modern girls. no patience.” he slaps his cock on your folds and you flinch. “relax. only polite to knock before i enter, right?”

[five-bi-five-mind]

Could you please do a part 2 for New Additions where there is more smut that actually results in a baby (or twins because it runs in the family). I feel like Wanda would be obsessed with the idea that the reader is carrying their child! And you could pick the gender. (I would love to see the Twins reaction to finding out that their gonna have a sibling)?

Another New Addition

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Words: 5.6k+

Summary: It finally happened, you were pregnant and growing your family that you now shared with Wanda. However, pregnancy was a little rough on you. Wanting to take care of you, and also absolutely adoring the way you were glowing from being pregnant with her child, Wanda had a plan. She was going to pamper you all night long.

Warnings: lots of pregnancy talk; pregnancy sex I guess? Bathtub sex, clit play, nipple play, top!Wanda but she's topping from the bottom lol, bottom!r, strap-on (r receiving); enchanted strap, cum-filled strap, strap riding, thigh riding, aftercare

A/N: this isn’t quite what the prompt is asking for but… still gonna use it to post this part two. Also, full disclosure I’m not sure what a power bottom is so can someone please tell me if that’s how I wrote Wanda to fix my warnings lol

New Addition (Part 1)

This whole pregnancy thing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Then again, you knew it wasn’t going to be some magical journey that television loves to tell you it is.

One might think, though, if this pregnancy was happening because of your magical soon-to-be wife then it wouldn’t be so difficult sometimes. It wasn’t always awful, but you also were barely four months pregnant and already feeling ready for this kid to come out. There was still a long way to go and today was a particularly hard day for you.

What people don’t really talk about, outside of morning sickness, in this part of a pregnancy are the other random symptoms. For instance, you were just sore all time, in random places. Your back would ache, or your whole body, or sometimes just your legs. It depended on the day. And the hormones raging through your body right now… God, those fucking hormones caused the weirdest shifts in your mood. You cried at everything.

It was a little humiliating when you’d sit down and watch a silly Pixar movie with the boys and end up sobbing your eyes out at every happy ending. The boys, being as sweet and perfect as always, would wrap their little arms around you and tell you everything was already right. They had no way of understanding that it was just your body wreaking havoc on your emotions. What was worse was the more they tried to console you, the sweeter you found it, and the harder you cried. 

It was always Wanda who would end the tears. Seeing her children wrapped around either side of you, she just somehow knew that was making it harder for you to stop. She’d always say just the right thing to calm her boys’ sweet, but protective nature towards you. 

“She’s okay, my loves,” Wanda would coo at them. “But I can take good care of her now, hm?” It always seemed like it was that promise of care that would reassure them you’d be okay if they untangled themselves from you. And each time, Wanda would take your hand and pull you out of the living room and into your now shared bedroom to get you ready for much needed rest. 

That’s another thing people don’t tell you. With all the emotions and changes running rampant in your body you’re just tired all the time. You honestly felt a little guilty with how often you’d take midday naps or go to bed early. Your days were filled with family time with the boys and Wanda if she wasn’t busy. But after these afternoons, you’d be drained. There wasn’t much alone time left for you to give Wanda the attention you worried she was missing.

And she was missing this attention, but she also knew it was temporary. What you were doing for her, carrying her child, was so much more important than a temporary shortage of your attention. Plus, she had her moments with you. Currently, her favorite thing was waking up next to you and sneaking her hands under your shirt to press to your stomach. You had just started showing, even though it wasn’t too much yet. It was still enough for Wanda to be able to feel the difference. Most mornings you’d wake up to her fingertips tracing over your belly, or pressed flat trying to feel a kick. You told her multiple times it was too early for that, but Wanda wasn’t going to miss the opportunity if it were to come soon. 

Even though Wanda cherished these moments of being close to you, she still craved certain other moments of intimacy. It wasn’t like the two of you completely stopped, though. The frequency was just… less. Especially since you started to show. Part of you was a little self conscious about it, even though Wanda continuously reminded you of how beautiful you were each and every day. Part of it was also because your body was just changing and you genuinely were a little more tired lately. It wasn’t that you were avoiding or rejecting Wanda exactly, things were just a bit different now. Wanda understood, she really did. But still, this change in frequency didn’t go unnoticed by her. 

So when a week went by and you two hadn’t really done more than spoon in bed and kiss each other here and there, Wanda was getting a little pent up. Not only that, but the way you just utterly glowed from being pregnant with her child, it was doing something to Wanda that she didn’t expect. She hated that she felt so desperate to have you, especially when she knew this week you had been struggling with some rough pregnancy symptoms, but she just really couldn’t help it. Of course, she would never make you take care of this problem for her or make you feel bad if you said no, but she really really didn’t want you to say no. So, she came up with a little plan. One that made sure you knew you were loved and cared for, while also getting opportunities to be closer to you and touch you in a way she hadn’t all week. 

Wanda had asked you to drop the boys off at a friend’s for the night, claiming she had forgotten something she needed to take care of right away. You, being the kind soul that Wanda knows and loves, gladly said yes and even offered to take them to buy snacks for their big sleepover with their friend. Grateful for more time to prepare and just out of the sheer love she had for you and the way you loved her boys, Wanda made sure to use the extra time to her advantage. 

She was setting up the finishing touches when she heard the front door open and close. An eager grin spread across her face as she heard you call for her and that’s when she knew she needed to wrap up. With a snap of her fingers, candles lit all across the room and she took a moment to soak in what she had done. As she looked around the room, her smile grew. Everything was perfect. There was no doubt in Wanda’s mind that you were going to love it.

After one more quick check that everything was in place, she finally went downstairs to greet you. The minute her eyes fell on your bright smile she couldn’t help herself, she hurried down the stairs to wrap you up into her arms. 

“You’re back!” She exclaimed between kisses she showered across your cheeks. You giggled and wrapped your arms around her waist as she kept kissing you. 

“I was only gone for less than two hours,” you laughed and brushed your nose against hers. “We could’ve waited so you could join us.” 

“Hm, I know,” Wanda pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “But then I wouldn’t have had time to prepare your surprise.” 

“Surprise?” You pulled back to look at Wanda and the way you gave her such a curious, yet excited look, had her heart melting. 

She pulled you in again for another kiss, this one slightly longer and lingering. “Mhm,” she mumbled against your lips. “I’ve spent a lot of time planning tonight.” 

“Oh?” You tried to pull back from the kiss to question her again, but Wanda leaned back in, capturing your lips one more time. “Wanda,” you giggled against her lips as you tried yet again to pull back. “Do I get to see this surprise?”

“Hm?” Wanda blinked, already getting carried away just from kissing you. “Oh, yes! Sorry…” she gave you a sheepish smile and slid her hand into yours. Without hesitation, you let her lead you back upstairs to the bedroom. 

The whole time you followed her, you looked all over, trying to catch a glimpse of this surprise. Wanda looked back at you for a moment as you kept scanning the bedroom, and couldn’t help but smile at how adorable you were being. She shook her head, sometimes your excitement matched her boys. It’s no wonder you three clicked instantly. 

“So…” You were still looking around the bedroom. “Where’s this surprise?” 

“In the bathroom.” Wanda pointed to the door. “Go see for yourself.” 

The confusion in your eyes grew, but you eagerly made your way to the bathroom. Wanda had let you go, no longer guiding you as she watched you reach for the door. She walked up behind you as you opened it and you let out a surprised gasp.

“Wow…” You took in the sight before you. Candles filled the bathroom, leaving you both in a soft muted light. The tub was filled and full of bubbles. Sprinkled in and around the tub were rose petals. It looked like a stereotypical scene out of a romcom. Wanda pulled out her phone for a moment to press a button and suddenly, soft instrumental music filled the room. 

“Do you like it?” Wanda’s arms came to wrap around you from behind. Her lips placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “I know this week hasn’t been easy for you. So, I wanted to give you the most relaxing night I possibly can,” Wanda kissed your shoulder again. “And to show just how much I love you.” Her lips pressed to your neck before her hand reached up to turn your head so she could meet your lips. 

“I really like it,” you whispered into the kiss. “And I love you.” 

Wanda stepped back and began to undress. Even after being with her for a while, you still couldn’t help but feel a little flustered from seeing her naked form. She was almost completely undressed and you still just couldn’t take your eyes off her breathtaking form. It wasn’t until she caught you staring and threw a wink your way that you felt your face flush and you instantly turned your attention to your own clothes. 

When the final piece of clothing came off, that was when you realized Wanda had moved closer to you. Her hands reached out and her finger tips traced along the sides of your stomach before she pulled your naked body into hers. Her eyes sparkled as she looked down between you two and at the small baby bump that was starting to show. In her mind, it blew her away just how lucky she was that you were actually willing to do this for her, for the two of you, for the family you now shared with her. There was nothing more beautiful than watching you carry her child. Seeing this physical reminder of that just made her want to worship you for how gorgeous you looked. You, on the other hand, felt slightly self conscious about these small changes. While the fact that you were actually starting to show made it feel more real that your family was growing, you still were unsure of how Wanda felt about these changes to your body. Wanda could sense that unsureness that you had too. But tonight, she hoped she would help put that self-consciousness at ease. 

Wanda’s hand went to cup your cheek. Her loving eyes stared back at you for a moment. Her thumb brushed against your cheek gently and she gave you a soft smile. “You are so,” her voice was thick with emotion as she spoke, “so beautiful.”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you turned your head to press a kiss to her palm, before moving to press your forehead to hers for a moment. A soft whisper of “I love you” was exchanged between the two of you before Wanda’s hand slipped back into yours and led you to the bath.

Her hand stayed in yours, steadying you even if you didn’t necessarily need it, as you stepped in. The water was the perfect temperature and you had a feeling that was just another magical perk of being with Wanda. When you had eased in and sat down, Wanda motioned for you to sit up and move to the middle so that she could step in and sit behind you. With her legs around either side of you and her arms wrapping around your waist under the water to pull you closer, you ended up with your back completely pressed against Wanda’s bare front. 

Wanda’s hands urged you to lean back onto her and when you did, her hands immediately began to trace along just about any part of your body they could reach. “Are you comfortable?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Your eyes were closed and your head was resting against her. It wasn’t until she asked you again that you realized just how instantly relaxed you really were. 

“Oh, mhm” you sighed happily. “Very comfortable.”

“Good,” She let out a small laugh as her hands kept slowly tracing your bare skin. 

When her fingers brushed against your nipples, the small gasp that left your lips did not go unnoticed by Wanda. That small reaction alone absolutely floored her. She needed to hear you make that sound again. It had only been a week since she last was able to draw a sound like that from you, but to her a week without having you like this was a long time. So, her fingers circled your nipple, this time with more intention. And, just as she hoped, a small gasp left your lips yet again.

You were surprised by just how sensitive you were. One little touch of your nipples and you were already struggling not to whine and moan? Yes, you could be quite vocal and needy when it came to being with Wanda, but it wasn’t usually this easy for her to get a reaction out of you. Although, you were also well aware that it had been a week since you last let Wanda touch you and your hormones were going crazy. Pregnancy really did a lot to a person’s body and one thing you didn’t expect was to be crazy horny more often than you usually are. And with Wanda… that was usually pretty damn often. Except, your insecurities had started to win here and there this week. Plus you really were struggling just a bit more with fatigue and other not-so-fun pregnancy things. So, those things had kept you from actually acting on some of the things your pregnant, hormonal body was screaming at you for. 

But now, Wanda was being so sweet and romantic. All your insecurities melted away with just the way Wanda looked at you before you two even got into the bath. The bath itself was helping too. All the aches in your body felt like they were distant memories the moment your body was engulfed in the warm water. On top of all that, you had the house and Wanda all to yourself. That was a rare luxury with the boys. Not that it stopped you both from just about anything, you just had to learn how to be more discreet. When were you going to have another chance like this, though? Certainly, nights with just you and Wanda in the house would be increasingly rare once the new baby comes.

Wanda’s hands were now fully cupping your breasts. Your eyes were closed and you squirmed in the tub, pressing your legs together as you felt her roll your nipples between her fingers. You were completely aware of the way her bare body felt against your back and that sensation alone was causing the ache between your legs to get worse.

Without even having to ask, Wanda knew to move her hand where you needed it. Even as she played with one of your nipples, while her other hand was busy spreading your legs as best she could in the tub, her touch was still gentle. You felt utter admiration and love in the way she whispered soft praises as her hand finally cupped your pussy under the water. When you felt two of her fingers press ever so gently to your clit, your body tensed for a second and low whine fell from your lips.

“Shh,” Wanda cooed into your ear from behind. “Let me take care of you.”

With your eyes still squeezed shut, you nodded your head and gave in to the feeling of Wanda playing with your clit and switching between both your nipples. 

Your head fell back on Wanda’s bare shoulder as her fingers kept rubbing against your clit. Your eyes were still closed and your lips were parted as small sighs of pleasure kept falling from them. One of your hands had a grip of the edge of the tub, but the other came up to intertwine with Wanda’s as she moved it from your breasts. The whole time Wanda kept steady pressure on your clit, she was also softly whispering even more praises about how good you were doing. How much she loved seeing you like this. How she couldn’t wait to get you out of the tub so she could see you naked and spread open on her bed. 

The feeling of Wanda’s fingers was intoxicating and it only added to everything to feel her wet, naked body against your back too. You were fully leaning into Wanda as she touched you. Your hips were no longer still and were starting to slowly grind up into the way her fingers were working on your clit. The familiar feeling was building inside you and your small sighs turned into louder whines and moans as she kept up with what she was doing to your clit. 

As you felt yourself build up and up, you couldn’t take it anymore and reached behind you for a fist full of Wanda’s hair. Wanda leaned forward just as you tugged her closer and turned your head. When your lips met in a heated kiss that’s when her fingers picked up the pace. She felt your hand squeeze the one that was still intertwined with hers and she knew you were two seconds away from that edge. When she applied more pressure, your body tensed and you let out a final desperate whine against her lips. Your hand squeezed tighter against hers as you came, but she kept a hold of you, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

After a minute your body completely collapsed back into Wanda and her hand moved from between your legs to wrap around your waist and pull you even closer.

“How are you feeling?” Wanda asked after placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“Good…” You were still trying to catch your breath. “Great actually.”

“Yeah?” You felt Wanda smile against your bare skin and you nodded, your body relaxing even more against her. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, relaxing in the still warm water with Wanda’s arms wrapped around you. After a while, both of you decided to get out.

Wanda, again, made sure to keep you steady as you got out of the bath. With a towel already wrapped around herself, she made sure to wrap you up within a split second of the cold air hitting your wet body. You both smiled and giggled with each other as each of you attempted to dry the other off. 

Neither of you bothered to put clothes of any kind back on when you were both nice and dry. The both of you knew tonight wasn’t quite over yet, and your body still craved way more from Wanda than the one, albeit amazing, orgasm she did give you. 

When you both were done with the bath, Wanda sat you gently on the bed as she began to move the candles from the bathroom to the bedroom, as well as the speaker she had for the instrumental music that was still playing. The romantic mood from the bath you shared was effectively recreated in your shared bedroom and you couldn’t help but smile at Wanda as you watched her fuss over small details. The way she looked, as she made sure the candles were positioned just right, the glow of their flame plus the moonlight coming from the window, was stunning. Wanda always said that you looked like you were glowing, even before you knew you were actually pregnant with her child, but she was glowing too. You made a mental note to tell her more about how beautiful she was, just like she would remind you. 

When the room was finally ready, Wanda walked up to where you sat on the bed and leaned down to kiss you. Your hands immediately grabbed at her bare hips, pulling her closer and parting your lips for her tongue to gently run against your own. The soft sigh she let out as she felt your tongue against hers was intoxicating and it immediately made you want to hear more. However, you also desperately wanted to feel Wanda touch you more, or at least to feel her finally inside you. Rarely did you specifically ask for what you wanted, always struggling with being too shy, but tonight you had something very specific in mind that you think the both of you would enjoy.

Pulling back from the kiss you looked up at Wanda who was looking at you with a blush across her face and lust in her eyes. She knew just by the way you looked at her, that you wanted something. 

“What is it, my love?” She gave you a knowing smile. Excitement grew in her eyes as she watched you struggle to get over your shyness. She loved seeing you communicate what you wanted from her. It was hard to coax out of you, but it was a huge turn on for her when she finally got you to admit it. 

“Would you um…” You bit your lip, feeling your face flush more before you even got the words out. Really you shouldn’t be shy about this anymore, but you couldn’t help it. “Tonight, could we use the…” 

“The what, baby?” Wanda’s eyes sparkled as she watched you struggle to get the word out. She knew exactly what you wanted and she loved when you asked for it. 

“You know what I’m talking about,” you pouted. Wanda was going to give you a harder time, but any time she saw you pout she’d instantly cave. It wasn’t fair really.

“Do I?” She kept teasing, not quite ready to let you off the hook. “You could want a number of things. But I think I do know.” Her grin grew as she watched you squirm. “Is it that you want my cock again?” 

Your face was bright red at this point and despite covering it with your hands, you still nodded. 

Wanda just let out an amused chuckle in response, but you knew by the way she was shifting where she stood that you were going to get exactly what you wanted. “Alright,” Wanda began, “but if you want this, we’re going to go carefully and slowly” 

You nodded eagerly, waiting for Wanda to do her thing and put on the magic toy you both loved so much. “We’ll go carefully,” you agreed, trying to reassure Wanda so she’d make a move.

“And slowly,” she corrected. 

“And slowly,” you nodded again, still eager for Wanda to conjure up the toy.

“And you’re going to ride me.”

“And I’m going to r–” you paused as the words sank in. “Wait what?!”

Wanda gave you a devilish grin. “Yes, you’re going to ride me. Listen, this way you can set the pace and we can make sure nothing gets too out of control.” By nothing, Wanda meant herself. Before you were pregnant, any time she used the enchanted strap-on she created for the two of you, it didn’t take her long to get a little… overly enthusiastic. No matter how many times she’s fucked you with it, she hasn’t gotten used to the fact that she can actually feel herself inside you. Any time you start to get close, a part of her loses it just a little bit, and she struggles with the urge to just fuck you into the mattress. Usually, you have no quarrels about letting her do exactly that, but right now things are different. You were more fragile. She couldn’t risk the safety of you or her unborn child just because she can’t control herself. The best solution, in Wanda’s mind, is to have you in control. Hopefully, it’ll be easier to control her constant need to ruin you when she can feel herself inside you, if you’re using this toy with you in charge. 

“I– Wanda, I haven’t done that before.” To Wanda, you looked so cute when you were nervous like this. Her hands reached to cup your face and you didn’t put up a protest when she pulled you in for a breathtaking kiss. Her tongue immediately licked into your mouth and you moaned against hers as it did. Your hands grabbed at her naked body as she tilted your head back and kissed you harder. Suddenly, she was moving while she was kissing you. Her knees went onto the bed on either side of you and you realized she was straddling your waist.

Your mind short circuited for a minute and your hands grabbed harder at her as she kept kissing you. Her naked body pressed down against yours and for the first time, you felt how wet she was as her pussy pressed to your thigh. You didn’t even care about the whines that were being suppressed by Wanda’s lips as you felt her start to grind down. But all too soon, Wanda broke the kiss. 

“See,” She said breathlessly, “Just do this…” Wanda dragged her body against your thigh again and you groaned at the feeling. All you could think to do was nod as your eyes fell between your bodies to watch the way she was moving. Wanda was breathing hard as she continued to grind slowly against you. “Are you ready to try?” Wanda stilled her movement and you swallowed hard, trying to muster up more courage. You didn’t want her to stop what she was doing, but you also desperately wanted to feel her inside you and that feeling was growing by the second.

“Yes, I’m ready.” You practically sounded like you were pleading with her, even though you were trying to keep your cool.

“Good girl,” Wanda kissed your lips again before crawling off of you. You watched with curiosity as she got comfortable on the bed, leaning herself against the headboard. With another wave of her hand, suddenly the thing you’d been waiting all night for was right in front of you, with the straps already tightly attached to Wanda’s hips. “Now,” Wanda’s eyes were dark and her grin was wide as she looked at you. “Come here.”

You could feel your heart rate pick up just by looking at the sight in front of you. Wanda had her hands folded behind her head as she rested against the headboard. Her legs were spread and in between them was the crimson strap-on you loved so much, even if you still weren’t quite used to the size. To ride it seemed daunting, but as Wanda waited for you with a hungry look in your eye, it was all you wanted to do. 

With a little bit of hesitation, you crawled to where she was on the bed. “Take it slowly,” she instructed as you began to mount her. Her hands moved from behind her head to rest on your hips. You felt her gently guiding you so that you were steady as you started to line her strap up with your entrance. 

“That’s it,” she practically groaned as she felt your wetness against her enchanted toy. 

“Fuck…” you muttered under your breath as you started to slowly lower yourself onto it. The size was still hard to take, but as it stretched your walls it still felt incredibly good. 

When you were finally all the way down, your thighs flush with Wanda’s hips, her hands tightened their grip on you. You didn’t move for a minute, just watching in awe as Wanda clearly reacted to the feeling of being inside you. Her breathing picked up and her eyes grew darker as she looked back at you. Eventually, you experimentally picked yourself up only slightly and then ground back down onto her cock. The movement was not lost on Wanda; her nails immediately dug into your skin when she felt it. 

With a sudden burst of confidence, you started to move, rocking your hips against Wanda’s as she sat below you and just let you ride. She felt every single thrust though, and it took every ounce of strength in her not to lose control like she wanted to. Her instincts were screaming at her to just flip you over and fuck you until you had tears in yours eyes. However, she knew that wasn’t a good idea, not when you were more fragile right now. So instead, she held onto you tightly and let you ride her.

As you picked up the pace, Wanda’s head fell back against the headboard. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her lip was between her teeth. She was breathing hard at this point too and you started to notice the way her hips would jump with each time you pressed yourself down hard against her cock. Eventually, you felt her hands tugging at you and you realized it was her way of moving you faster. 

“Fuck baby,” Wanda groaned between pants. “You feel so good.” Her eyes were open again and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as you kept fucking yourself on top of her. The way she looked right now was a rare sight. Usually, you were too busy getting lost in the way Wanda made you feel to watch her lose control because of you and it was making you even more wet as you rode her.

Wanda could already feel your wetness drip down her cock and onto her bare thighs. That plus the way you let out moan after moan with each time she moved her hips and fucked up inside of you was driving her crazy. She hated to admit it, but she was so fucking close already. She was feeling you squeeze against her cock more and more with each time you practically bounced on top of her. At first, she wanted to make you cum one more time before she came with you, but that wasn’t going to happen. Wanda severely underestimated just how fucking good you’d look fucking yourself on her cock like this. 

Suddenly, as you felt Wanda’s thighs begin to twitch underneath you, she surged up. Her arms came to wrap fully around your waist and her hips began moving up harder and faster into you. Your body immediately fell forward, overwhelmed by how hard her cock was pumping into you. Your eyes closed and your face buried into her neck. Wanda felt your nails scratch at her back as she kept a fast pace, pulling your entire body to fuck yourself faster on her cock. 

“Fuck fuck,” Wanda groaned as she kept pumping her hips up to fuck you harder. “Like that baby, keep riding my cock.” You tried your best to speed up, but at this point Wanda was practically just fucking you onto her cock herself. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m going to cum inside you.” 

“Please,” you moaned. Your only thoughts now were of how badly you wanted her to cum and how badly you wanted to cum with her. Suddenly, Wanda used all her strength to pump her cock harder up into you a few more times before, finally, you felt her warm cum fill your pussy. With a loud cry, you followed after, coming hard on top of her. She could feel a mix of both your and her cum dripping down the strap and onto her lap.

Eventually, her movements slowed until she felt your body completely relax against hers. Both of you were breathing hard as you tried to come down from your orgasms. Wanda’s hands found their way to your hair, stroking gently while she placed a few light kisses to your shoulder and then your neck up to your jaw.

“How are you feeling?” She mumbled against your skin. 

“Mm, good,” you breathed. “A little worn out.” Usually, you could go a few more times, but you wanted to be honest. Your stamina and energy wasn’t what it used to be and you definitely understood that it was the pregnancy. 

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” Wanda kissed your lips briefly before gently moving you up and off her strap. With a flick of her wrist it disappeared from her hips and the both of you looked down. “I think I might need another bath,” she chuckled. 

You looked back up at her sheepishly. “Can I join again?” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grinned before hopping up from the bed. Her hand slipped into yours and she helped steady you when you stood up on shaky legs. “Plus, I’m not done spoiling you. I promised the boys I’d take care of you. It was the only way they agreed to go to the sleepover.” 

She stopped for a moment and pressed a hand to your stomach, her eyes shining with so much love as she looked down at your small baby bump. “And you and their new sister deserve the absolute best care in the world.” 

You smiled as you watched Wanda admire you and the changes your body was experiencing. You knew you weren’t just in for a night of love and care from her, but a whole lifetime. Not just from her, but from the whole family you now shared with her.

Tag list: @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashamaximoff69 @natashasilverfox @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @dj-bynum3718 @noahrex @demonicbaby666 @storiesofsvu

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[blushweddinggowns]

 “So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life. 

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?” 

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

[mr-bas00nist]

I’m not sure wether or not your requests are open, I couldn't find a post containing much information, but I have a good idea! Or, at least what i think is a good idea... Okay so hear me out, slashers x blind s/o, and like the slashers get upset if people dump palets or stuff on you during a chase. (Silent hill)

Taking a leap here, assuming you want pyramid head in this with the Silent Hill in parenthesis and I’m gonna assume your requesting killer reader. I’ve gotchu 😏

Contains: Pyramid Head, Danny Johnson, Micheal Myers, Amanda Young and Carmina Mora because she’s my main. Usual dbd and blood stuff.

The Artist (Carmina Mora)

-Carmina is a sweetheart to you, always has been

-She makes artwork for you with chunky paint so you can feel and imagine the patterns

-At first she was skeptical and a bit angry at the entity for bringing in a blind killer

-I mean for gods sake, you can’t see blood pools or scratch marks!

-But as she watches you, she realizes just how lethal you are

-you have incredible hearing and over senses that you don’t even need to see

-When you came out of a match one day you rubbed your head with a groan

-That new survivor Ripley slammed the hell out of you with a pallet

-Carmina walked over to you concerned as she observed your state

-You reassured her you were fine but she was furious

-How dare she! You didn’t deserve that!

-next match she made sure to mori the hell out of Ripley

-The crows needed to eat after all

The Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

-Danny at first couldn’t decide whether to make fun of you or not

-he also was angry at the entity for bringing in a blind killer but he didn’t care in the way Carmina did

-He always kept a close eye on every killer just to see if he had any competition

-he was a bit aggravated that he began watching you expecting nothing much

-oh was he surprised when he saw how you functioned

-all your senses were heightened and in tune with everything around you

-you were a great listener and that intrigued him

-one day he began listening to you and talking with you

-he actually liked you

-you listened to him ramble for hours and could recite anything he could say

-one day after a particularly rough trial you were snarling in anger

-Danny notices this and quickly came over to check on you

-Fucking David and his stupid insults all match

-he pissed you off so bad you lost sight of the gene and everything else

-but don’t worry, Danny will make sure to gut him just for you and describe every photo of his corpse in grave detail

The Executioner (Pyramid Head)

-Pyramid could sense your power so he never underestimated you

-He always watched you outside of trials

-you guys grew closer just relishing in each other comfort

-when you’d talk he’d listen and when you weren’t talking you two would just sit in silence

-When you came out of a match with shakier breathing than usual he could sense immediately what happened

-entitled survivors annoying you, he’ll take care of it, he is the executioner after all

The Pig (Amanda Young)

-Amanda’s intrigued by you

-she’s actually the first to address you

-you two hit it off immediately

-unlike Danny though your the one who talks more and she listens

-She’ll listen to you ramble while she tweaks her bear traps for each match letting out soft hums and nods to make sure you knew she was listening

-Amanda actually developed the habit of helping you out with little things

-she knew you were perfectly capable of doing everything but she wanted to just feel like she was helping

-When you came back from a trial with a lot more blood then usual she didn’t say anything

-she took your coat and outerwear and just simply cleaned it for you

-it’s the least she could do for you since you helped her with her loneliness

A/N: Sorry I’ve been gone for so long! Life’s been busy!

[mechaknight-98]

Skyline (NSFW) Ft. Eunbi and Hyewon

Authors note: an unexpected and unplanned Eunbi/Hyewon fic. Enjoy

You wake up tied to your chair confused you try to move but you are chained.

“Oh good you are awake,” a familiar voice says to you.

You are done playing nice at this point though. You turn to the voice which is behind you, “Look I don’t know who put you up to this but you are going to get yourself killed playing this game. So I suggest you back off while you still have bones.”

“Oh, what your super-powered girlfriends are going to hurt me. No, I told them if they came here you're dead. Now if they want to see you again I am expecting a formal retirement announcement from Eunbi.” the voice said, you break out of your chains and groan.

“Oh you're Superior,” you say recognizing the voice.” look I am going to leave, and if you follow me or do anything to come for me I am taking you off the census,” you add as you get up and begin to leave. You turn to make sure he sees your face. As you walk out. His face is furious and you realize that you are going to have to kill him when he says,

“You think I'll let you just leave?” you shoot a laser beam through his skull vaporizing his nervous system. He fell to the floor dead. You groan as you fly back to your apartment. You do hate killing it was messy and left too many variables in play but you weren't going to let a D-tier hero keep you as a hostage or kill you. You had too much pride for that. When you open the door Eunbi and Hyewon are waiting for you patiently. You smile at your girlfriends. Eunbi approaches you with a cute pout. She has a needy look in her eyes. Hyewon sneaks behind her. Hyewon grips Eunbi’s bountiful chest and brings her tits out. Hoping you would fuck her wild tonight. She also wanted you to destroy her pussy as well but she knew Eunbi’s tits in combination with the bloodlust you felt after a kill would be more than enough for you to be ready, but she needed one more spark which came to her when she remembered what she caught Eunbi earlier

“You know this slutty hero has been getting off on your stories right? I saw her in the bathroom masturbating to a recording of one of your early fights.” to her credit Eunbi tried not to give into her arousal but when she was aroused she came fast and violently. She desperately screamed for you, “God Overlord I love your rage please take it out on my pussy. It's so wet and ready for you.”

Eunbi and Hyewon began to strip as they continued to watch you. Eunbi eyes you with hungry eyes as you take your cock out and give it a few precautionary strokes. Eunbi’s eyes are wide.

“Is my good boy going to let me suck his cock.” she says as she manages to pull away from Hyewon long enough to get close to you. You nod as Eunbi smiles.

Hyewon smiles behind Eunbi as the duo leads you to the bedroom. “He's not a good boy.” she teases. The three of you walk into the bedroom and they begin to strip you. Eunbi starts by slowly pulling your pants and underwear down. Your cock points at her aggressively. Eunbi looks up at you eyes full of rampant lust and pent-up frustration. You caress her face letting her know it's going to be okay. She subtly nestles in your touch. You can feel her worry about your safety fade, and in its place respect and lustful fear. She looks up at you and says, “How did you ever become a villain? Everything about you is so caring and considerate. You cook meals for us. You take us shopping, heck you cuddle with us all night. Everything about you screams safety. So what made your heart so dark?”.Eunbi asked as she swallows your cock.

You consider your words carefully and ask if she wants to know. Her responsive gaze is full of lust and adoration as she nods. You turn to Hyewon she smiles and mouths “Tell her.”

“Do you remember a new hero about 8 years ago named Skyline?” you ask.

Eunbi’s eyes squint as she struggles to suck you off while answering your question. She just wants to engorge herself on your rod, gag on it, and lose herself to the pleasure but can't because she needs to be present for the conversation she asked for. As she remembers your question she nods before giving a few more bobs of her head before breaking the connection and crawling to your side. She began to leisurely stroke you. You moaned. Hyewon began to kiss you. She loved when your mind was clouded by passion whether it be derived from lust or wrath as it always led to a “good fuck” afterward.

“So what was this about skyline?” Eunbi asked you.

“Well I was Skyline,” you said to Eunbi. Your voice was heavy with the sadness of the memories. Eunbi looked at you with eyes full of soft care

“Wait how? I remember hearing that you died destroying that meteor. The same meteor That destroyed Pleasanton.” Eunbi asked as she held you in her hand. She massaged your balls as your body confused jolted into her touch, as both several emotions blurred and mixed in your mind.

“Well the reports of my death were greatly exaggerated but the short story is. I got a call from the UNSA telling me that a meteor was coming down. What they didn't tell me was that in my dealing with it would still cause damage. See they told me it was a baseball-sized meteor. So imagine my surprise when it turned out to be the size of a minivan. The UNSA figured that the meteor would kill me and they get rid of the malcontent who was vocal about the way the bureaucracy ran superhuman endeavors, but that's not what happened. Now yes my tracker and super suit all burned to ash but obviously, I didn't die. My powers mutated beyond what they were due in part to two things, the exertion of trying to stop the meteor and the radiation that it gave off, but what really “killed skyline” was the aftermath. Because the president of the UNSA used it as a platform to install the Aegis program, which I was deeply vocal against. The worst part about it all was that. Oh god.” as you spoke Hyewon felt your rage swell and it aroused her. She took matters into her own hands and started stroking you faster until you couldn't take it anymore. You got up from the bed and lined your cock with her pussy before plunging in. Hyewon moans

“Yes babe give it to me,” Hyewon said

“You dirty girl,” you say to your girlfriend before you spank her ass. You thrust slowly at first giving her time to adjust

“Just fuck me. I need it.” Hyewon whined. You grunted in response and began to thrust harder and faster. Hyewon arches her back into you as your cock sends shock waves and ripples through her ass. She smiles at you.

“Damn Hyewon you're so wet and tight tonight,” you growl. As you continue to impale her with your cock.

“Yeah, babe I got so wet thinking about you fighting.” Hyewon cooed

“Oh so you like it when I'm bloodlusted,” you question

“Oh god yes. You always are so rough with me just the way I like. I get to feel your strength tear me apart.” Hyewon moans as you pick her up to kiss her. Her tongue rapaciously invades your mouth as she tries to dominate you, but you're in charge right now not her. You lift her and put her in the mating press position.

“Oh God. You're so deep.” she moans as you lift her off and on your cock repetitively. Having not tasted her tits in a while you lean down and begin to suck on her left nipple. It drove her crazy. Both Hyewon and Eunbi had sensitive nipples so sucking on them always elicited a favorable reaction. When you finished with the left nipple you attacked the right nipple. You notice Hyewon has a nosebleed but when you mention It she says, “Don't stop keep pounding my pussy”. as you came up from the air you saw Eunbi fingering herself as you dove into Hyewon again. The dripping sounds of her sex taking her fingers in and out serve as a double dose of dopamine as you pleasure Hyewon. Her wanton look encourages you to thrust deeper and harder. Your loins are burning with the desire to fill Hyewon’s pussy. As you turn back to face Hyewon after ravaging her right nipple She moaned then yelled, “I'm cumming.” you continue to fuck her through and past her orgasm. She began to scream at being overstimulated as you kept fucking her.

“You like how I fuck her,” you say to Eunbi who watches with vehement lust. She nods as she encourages you to continue to wreck your shared girlfriend. Her pussy is now audible from across the bed as the squelching noises tell you all you need to know. Eunbi is loving the show you're putting on for her.

“Fuck that slut till she can't walk anymore,” Eunbi says with unbridled lust and lidded eyes. You gaze into her lidded eyes that scream harder and more. So you oblige you continue to fuck Hyewon through her orgasm harder and harder until she finally uses the safe word

“Sea pirate.” she gasps. You immediately cease all of the activity and set her down. Hyewon breathes heavily as you look at her with concern. Eunbi also stops pleasuring herself to check on Hyewon.

“I'm fine I just blacked out. You were too rough and I got scared.” Hyewon replied. You nodded and let Hyewon rest. She tried to convince you to get back to it but in your serious voice you responded

“No, you're done for now. I got carried away and lost control.”

Hyewon groaned, “ I just needed a little breather but I'm good now. I wanted you to fill me up.” she wined

“Another time Hyem. Right now rest.” both you and Eunbi say in your serious voices.

The rest of the night is significantly less aggressive and just somber. You spend time working on various projects to alleviate your lust. Hyewon passes out after you two stop. Later into the night, Eunbi approaches on the couch. She tells you Hyewon is still sleeping.

“Okay good I'm worried I went too hard on her.”

“She’ll be fine. It isn't the first time someone has been rough with her in bed to the point of passing out.”

You nod then a question that's been on your mind pops into your head.

“Go ahead ask it,” Eunbi says with her adorable gap-toothed smile.

“How did you know I had a question.”

Eunbi pointed to your right hand, which was opening and closing repeatedly, “You do that when something's on your mind” she answered, “let me guess how did me and Hyewon meet?”

“No that wasn't my question. I know you all were a part of the same Hero collective before the corporation backing you all disbanded,” you answer with a shrug, “my actual question was why is everyone so obsessed with me seeing red? I mean a consistent theme of my life had been people tiling me up just to see the reaction. Don't get me wrong I love being so free and expressive but I don't want to always be that.” Eunbi was stunned at your question. She had always figured that you reviled in the depravity but as she considered it again everything about you was calm nurturing and peaceable. You didn't want to fight unless it was either needed or it was to refine skills. Everything you did was in the pursuit of Honor. Every Conquest every trial had a goal She thought. The more she considered your temperament the more It made her reconsider several of her opinions and ideations of you. It shook her but also weirdly aroused her. Like her mental image of you before was this wild and free spirit but seeing you in such a grounded and focused sense made her view even more as a strong man, and if there's one thing Eunbi loved it was strong men. You watched as Eunbi lost herself in thought at your question. You didn't want to interrupt but you were taken aback when she said,

“You'd make such an excellent dad I need to make you a dad breed me now.” your cock sprung to life at her words but your mind was reeling from the mental whiplash. “Excuse me?” you questioned

“I just realized that you'd make an excellent dad. So please fuck me and put a baby in me.” you squint as you listen because none of this is how you expected the chat to go.