#and want to hold all my faves hands

[batsplat]

pecco rant please please

*spins wheel on possible topics* absurdly underrated but in a dumb way. you'd think you can stumble your way into two premier class titles. I don't care he's on the best bike - let's be honest, how often this century have the title winners not been on the best bike? 2004 and to a lesser extent 2005 you can say clearly weaker bike, 2007 late 2010s 2021 there's a clear enough disparity with anyone else riding the bike that you can say clearly the rider is making the difference/it's an unrideable wreck one guy is making respectable, then there's a few seasons where it's at least very close whose machinery is best or they're fighting with people on equal equipment, which pecco has done! but generally speaking, good/promising riders end up on good bikes and then they win. that's how the game works!

the thing about 2022 is that it had such a massive mid-season swing that overhauling a ninety something point margin cannot come down to any single factor. is it fair to say fabio lost that title? on balance, it's a bit harsh - yes, there were a few too many errors post-sachsenring, yes, some were driven by desperation, but also you can't really expect anyone to ride a flawless season. but pecco did win that title as much as yamaha lost it. I don't care if you're riding a literal rocketship with two wheels, you can't win four races in a row if you're not extremely good at what you do! if we're saying that title was worth less because the yamaha turned to shit in the second half of the season, then let's keep going. let's put an asterisk next to 2013 because jorge and dani both got injured (let's not even get into the 'if marc hadn't been injured' asterisks because that's where you get into truly silly territory). is 2006 not a legit title because of all the bad luck valentino faced that year? let's say all titles between 2007 to 2015 were worth less because at any one time only 4-6 bikes had a realistic chance of winning races. throw out any title before 2009 because they were constantly fucking about with the tyres and there wasn't a level playing field. if you're motivated enough, you can play this game with basically anything, but it's dumb and pointless because that's not how sports works! you can only win against whoever you're facing. it has always been thus and it will always be thus

it's narratively fun and juicy that pecco has these insecurities himself - but within the context of everyone else doing discourse over it, the whole thing is massively overblown! linked to some of the worst sports discourse about how much people love to disparage late bloomers, because they need every single successful athlete to fit the same mould of the ultra-talented wunderkind, apparently. it's more interesting when it's not always the most 'talented' (whatever tf that means), naturally gifted, *fast the second he touches a bike* bloke who wins. sometimes they have to work hard for it, sometimes they have to improve themselves year on year and be smart about how they do it, sometimes they have to be in the right place and right time, sometimes they have to be very lucky. sports is all about competition, and competition is all about contrast. it's a contrast that can be generated in a whole lot of ways, and in fairness to motogp they have come up with a bunch of interesting narratively tense contests that don't rely on a massive fundamental 'talent' differential - but at the end of the day, that's one of the best ones you can have! the more ways you can have to win in any given sport, the better, both in the literal sense of how you go about the actual process of winning and how you even become a winner. none of this means that pecco isn't very very good, it means he got there in a different way than every other multiple champ this century has. it fundamentally flattens the sport if you want every top-level competitor to be an alien-level talent... one of the best things about this current era is that it has given us something new and exciting in that regard, where you well and truly believe some very different blokes might have what it takes to eventually be champion

anyway, pecco is absurdly adept at digging himself into holes and absurdly adept at digging himself out of them. he's one of the worst frontrunners imaginable in every sense, biologically incapable of dominating without at least a perpetual hint of jeopardy, both in the context of a race and a season. but when his back is against the wall, somehow he keeps finding performances you never imagined he was capable of. his mixed up and slightly odd skillset, his strengths and weaknesses, how he's better and worse than he has any right to be... all of it lends itself to perpetual momentum shifts and thrilling seasons - because you never quite know what you're going to get. love him or hate him, he's a gift to the overall competitive landscape! god knows the racing hasn't been much to write home about these last few years (though, yes, we did have a good little run this season), but somehow he's managed to get himself involved in two out of the six title deciders this century back-to-back. is that not the dream for the viewer, to have a bloke at the top of the sport with a little self-combust chip in his head every time he builds too much of an advantage? build a hundred of those guys! throw a marc marquez at him and see what he does! I can't wait to see what he'll come up with next

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet

[foolsocracy]

I can't get the idea out of my head, so please consider; MJ invites Peter out along with some of her friends for dancing. Results may vary

ok this has been SITTING in my inbox. I was thinking about drawing something but ive caved and im just gonna talk.

YES. That girl can DANCE and she loves it!! I feel in the 19th and 20th century everyone could do a bit of social dancing because thats just what people did for fun. I think the Parkers and the Watsons both taught their kids to dance 'older' stuff they would have done when they were younger, like a solid waltz, quadrille, two-step, polka, what have you. MJ learned them all with fervor. Pete... learned some of them.

I think MJ and Pete would probably do (east coast) swing most often. Because they are hip and of the times. I think Pete probably would have had MJ and Robbie get to know each other through dance, actually. Like Robbie was around the welfare center when MJ was and Pete immediately was like Yes, now MJ can practice with him and not me (ultimate backfire because how he's got 2 partners)! Harlem is definitely the hot spot for swing, with black Americans engineering the whole thing. MJ was totally ecstatic to have a friend over there to run into who was a ready and willing partner!

I do have to say that MJ is a total back lead when it comes to Peter. They will ARGUE on the floor (in good fun). She'll be like 'do that one move I just taught you!' or 'If you fumble this texas tommy i'll kill you' or 'ok on this next backstep we're doing Charleston... aaand triple step, back step.' And Peter will snark back. Whenever she really wants to piss him off she'll make him practice Balboa (he thinks it looks stupid).

[ruvi-muffin]

I am in need of veth & essek fics? (!!) The shenanigans they'd get up to half a decade into their relationship

Consider for a moment, this Not Even a ficlet probably:

Caleb: what do you say, veth? One last hurrah?

Veth: Caleb. Dear. It won't be a Last hurrah if you keep coming up with reasons to have one?

Essek, floating past, munching a cracker: She has a point.

Veth: Oh! He Speaks!

Essek: Oh i'm involved, oh no. Please pay me no mind. You can return to the moment.

Caleb: The moment is broken I'm afraid. I hope you did not interject out of a sense of feeling left out.

Essek: oh, Not at all. Believe you me, this is not my worst idea of a polycule.

Caleb: (scandalized) (!!)

Veth: Haha! (I'm in on the joke!)

Caleb: (betrayal!!)

Essek: I said what i said.

Essek: In fact..

(he floats up, wtiting on a piece of paper, out of view)

I have some ideas for this Last Hurrah.

(Blows on the ink folding the paper and hands it to Veth covertly)

Veth: oh ho ho owo !! I like your thinking, hot boi.

Caleb, nervously: Hooo boy. I'm in Trouble. owo;

What was on the piece of paper? Who can say.

Probably a very nostalgic, mock dangerous, wholesome caper as a gift to Caleb ♡

[phoenixcatch7]

Nintendo really be like 'we are going to make a pairing so exquisitely nebulous. You will be able to project any opinion on it and you will feel your opinion is right. All you know is how deeply intertwined in each others life they are, and how much they will sacrifice for the other in the name of the kingdom' and then DID IT AGAIN WITH THE SAME PEOPLE MILLENIA DOWN THE LINE.

[k8felge]

nothing hurts more than seeing ur fave character depicted in an official au story or elseworld where details ab them r different but it explores the character in a new way -- its good in a vacuum, but u know it isn't the Definitive Version of that character. Just a new exploration (cool!). but because the adaptation brought in so many new fans and/or was a huge success it ends up being treated like its the Definitive Version and all discussions of prev versions are overshadowed bc of it... even worse when studios / execs see the success and try to pivot to this New Version only and never try to explore new routes for the character ever again (can you tell this is about comics yet)

[brawlqueen]

attempt was made ! all replies will be queued and i think anything holiday related won't expire for me unless you don't want the ask answered. like last month ! they'll just go under the 'seasonal / holiday' title on my asks because the brain fog is real / life amping up so ! also i think mi.zuki is the most smug santa .

also this was last year but still . love reindeer mi.zuki and san.ta a.iba. in my post-canon verse (which is divergent) they're still partners but shared also with d.ate obviously ! i think people should give them a chance since a.iba is a very very solid support system for mi.zuki and mi.zuki keeps aiba amused and can keep up with her in her own way, it's one of the few good things i liked about a.ini. oh well sometime i'll talk about how important a.iba is to her ! plus, the unlimited psyncs are hilarious and show their bond and they bounce off each other's wit and chaotic natures honestly. or rather they bring out the chaos in each other. different bonds but no less important imho ! but yeah i'll post this again later uh...closer to the holidays i guess ?

[pink-karnery]

@weatherquest ;w;

fallin and marcille

[oo-li]

yahoo yippee

[eupheme]

— sugar, sugar

[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 6.5k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)

a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

“You gonna introduce me?”

You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.

“You think this will wash out?” 

The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.

“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”

He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.

“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.

In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had. 

Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.

Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.  

But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.

And maybe that was friendship, after all. 

You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”

“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”

“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”

He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”

Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.

“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”

You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”

He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”

“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”

You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter. 

But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.

Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.

But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.  

“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”

Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”

That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”

“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”

“Who do you think got Peter?”

“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.

“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”

Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”

“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”

“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”

The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.

“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”

“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.

You give him a sideways look, then.

“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”

He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.

“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”

There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another. 

You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that.” 

He smiles, then.

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”

Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”

The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”

An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”

It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”

Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.

“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”

“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”

The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.

“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing. 

Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid. 

He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer. 

“18.” 

Another beat passes, and then a sigh. 

“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”

Wade’s fist pumps. 

Bullseye, motherfucker. 

The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.

Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do. 

Or maybe, just bail all-together.

Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.

He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.

Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing. 

Ambiance, his ass.

The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.

Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.

Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.

A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home. 

Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.

Better not to hope, or even think, at all. 

You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close. 

A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide. 

“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”

A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”

Penis cake?

Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open. 

Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”

Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.

“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”

Jesus Christ. 

Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”

Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.

A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.

“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”

A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.

“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.

Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.

Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.

“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing. 

Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours. 

They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head. 

She wants to meet you.

He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him. 

“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”

“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses. 

“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.” 

He hates you.

He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.

Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.

That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away. 

“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin. 

“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”

His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.

“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”

His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”

“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts. 

“You first.”

“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing. 

Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger. 

It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back. 

Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.

“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”

You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.

“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”

Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways. 

Different. Special.

“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”

“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.

The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”

There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.

“Right. What flavor was it?”

Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”

A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”

He hums then, close to a laugh.  

“Sure. You do that.”

You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”

The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.

Setting it free. 

“I’m a mutant.”

Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade. 

“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.

“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”

There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry. 

They glint in the light, as his fingers flex. 

“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”

The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood. 

Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.

“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”

Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”

You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers. 

“But doesn’t that hurt?” 

It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing. 

He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”

His hand flexes in your grip.

“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”

Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.

“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”

Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough. 

“No. I don’t think so.”

Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.

“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t reply. 

The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face. 

His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows. 

Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.

He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly. 

“Let me ask you one more thing.” 

“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.

His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.

Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.

“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?” 

His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.

Surely he must know? 

“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.

“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”

“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.

All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken. 

Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.

“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”

You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.

Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush. 

“You want to get out of here?”

You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.

His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.

Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.

His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.

It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.

Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it. 

His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.

Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.

A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.

Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.

Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.

He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.

Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.

You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down. 

It’s here that he comes back to himself. 

Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.

“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring. 

It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.

Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath. 

The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?” 

He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch. 

“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”

You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”

He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”

And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.

“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”

"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down. 

His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.

Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him. 

The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth. 

Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.

That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.

Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.

“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.” 

Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again. 

A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache. 

Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone. 

His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate. 

“That’s it sweetheart.”

Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”

His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.

You did this to him. 

It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down. 

A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop. 

Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.

A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you. 

“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.

Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.

His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.

“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”

It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.

“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”

“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.

A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.

The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest. 

“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”

You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.

It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.

That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim. 

A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him.  It’s what you needed - that little bit more.

Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge. 

Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”

He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking. 

His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.

It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.

You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him. 

Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.

But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock. 

“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.

Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.

You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him. 

A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his. 

“Fuck me, Logan.” 

He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up. 

Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”

Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.

Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.

Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.

“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it. 

“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”

He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.

It’s almost too much. 

You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin. 

It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.

That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.

“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”

His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat. 

Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.

How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out. 

“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”

He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in. 

Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.

“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”

The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear. 

Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.

He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.

Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap. 

It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him. 

Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”

Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.  

Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught. 

Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.

Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.

There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”

The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.

Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise. 

A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.” 

Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.

The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”

You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.

“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”

There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.

But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.

“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”

Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”

“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.

Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.

“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”

“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”

I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)

[heartkaji]

chika w pigtails are we seeing this

#. RAPUNZEL, RAPUNZEL LET DOWN YOUR HAIR !

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, takiishi chika, togame jo, kiryu mitsuki, tsubakino tasuku

fluff. your boyfriend has such beautiful hair that you want to style it every second of the day.

im such a sucker for chika i love him so much, starting the takiishi chika fluff agenda i do not care he is a cutie patootie !

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You were sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on Umemiya. It was one of those rare moments when his hair wasn't slicked back it was all naturally let down, white bangs lightly brushing against his pretty blue eyes. He was sitting in the armchair, engrossed in a book, the glasses perched on his nose making him look so divine.

You couldn't help but feel mesmerized by the sight before you, wishing for him to stay with his hair down more. Absentmindedly, you twirled a curl of your hair around your finger, your thoughts slipping past the filter of your mind. "You are so beautiful," you murmured, your voice came out as a whisper.

For a moment, you felt a little silly, knowing how you must look—how dumb you might sound—entranced by the man in front of you. But then he looked up from his book, a soft hum escaping his lips. He had heard you perfectly well and was fully aware of your gaze. With a slow, deliberate motion, he closed the book and directed his full attention towards you.

"Aren't you the fairest of them all, princess?" he teased, a playful smile dancing on his lips. Your face heated up instantly, a blush creeping up your cheeks at the nickname. He had this ability to switch personalities in an instant, and it always left you flustered.

Gathering your courage, you stood up and walked over to him, your fingers gently brushing away some of the bangs that fell over his eyes. "Can I brush your hair again?" you asked, your voice soft and hopeful, even though you already knew the answer.

A small, knowing smile played on his lips as he tilted his head slightly, granting you better access. "Of course," he replied, his voice ever so soft and gentle. "I trust you to make me look my best."

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart swelling with affection. As you reached for the hairbrush, you gently combed through his silken strands, "Your hair is so soft," you murmured, almost to yourself, but you saw the corners of his mouth twitch in response.

Once you were satisfied, his hair fell naturally into place, framing his face in a way that highlighted his best features, but nothing could beat the way he was best at kissing your lips when you least expected it — take it as your reward.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

Sitting on the couch, you gently comb your fingers through Takiishi's long, vibrant red-yellow hair. He's seated on the floor between your thighs, completely focused on his phone as he lets you do whatever you want. His hair is soft, almost silky, and it flows smoothly between your fingers — you are jealous of him

"Baby, you have such beautiful and soft hair," you murmur softly, starting to section it off. Chika hums in response, a sound that makes sure everything is okay as a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you part his hair, creating two distinct styles. One side has a sleek tail, while the other has pigtails, hairpins, and rubber bands.

"My beautiful, pretty princess," you tease, leaning down to kiss his temple. If anyone else dared to call him that, they'd likely find themselves regretting it instantly. But for you, Takiishi Chika lets his guard down. He tilts his head to the side so you can work better, as he is still focused on his phone.

The door swings open, and Endo strolls in. He takes one look at Takiishi's mismatched hairstyle and bursts into laughing "What in the world happened to you, Takiishi?" he manages to say, catching his breath.

Chika's eyes snap up, and in a flash, he's on his feet, fist connecting with Endo's face before the other can react as he groans and clutches his nose, you quickly snap a photo of your angry yet adorably flustered boyfriend. "Delete it or you're next," the princess warns, sitting back down between your thighs, his shoulders tense.

You chuckle, knowing full well that you won't delete it. "Yes, sir," you reply, setting the photo as your lock screen instead.

Takiishi resumes his previous position, and you resume styling his hair, sparing a glance at Endo but you know he will be fine. "Do you want me to add bows? I have different colors."

He glances back at you with that nonchalant expression. "Know your limits." Smiling, you place another kiss on his temple, continuing to enjoy your little hairstyling session with your beautiful, fierce, and surprisingly compliant boyfriend.

TOGAME JO

You never imagined you’d find yourself here, wide awake in the middle of the night, a razor in your hand, and Togame sitting on the ground before you. His black hair, styled in a mullet with the longer ends usually tied in a braid — you were the one who meticulously braided it every day, loving the way your fingers moved through his hair, the way it felt when you hugged him, the way it helped you fall asleep as you gently played with it. But now, your heart ached at the thought of cutting it all off.

He wanted to cut his hair short, a decision he made after his fight with Sakura and reconciling with his past actions at Shishitoren. He wanted to let go of the past and start anew. You knew his reasons, respected them even, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“Jo, I can’t do it,” you said, your voice breaking as tears threatened to spill. Both of you were standing in front of the mirror, and you saw the softness in his eyes as he looked at your expression.

“Angel, it’s hair, not my hand that you have to cut,” he said gently, trying to reassure you. But for you, it wasn’t just hair.

“But... But how will I do hairstyles on you now? How will I fall asleep at night?” The tears you had been holding back began to roll down your cheeks, a waterfall of emotion you couldn’t contain. Togame chuckled softly, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. He stood up, removed the razor from your hand, and enveloped you in a comforting hug.

“I want to cut it. I don’t want to dwell on the past. I know you love it, but I promise you that even if you cut my hair, my love for you won’t stop growing, okay?”

How was he so good with words? You didn’t know, but perhaps that was why you were with him. He had a way of making everything seem alright.

“Can I style it for you one more time?” you asked between sobs.

“Of course you can, angel,” he replied, his voice tender. You took your time, savoring every moment as you braided his hair one last time. Each twist and turn of his hair through your fingers felt bittersweet. When you finally gained the courage, you cut his hair, the sound of the razor mingling with your quiet sniffles. And there he stood, beautiful and handsome, even with short hair.

“See, it wasn’t that bad, right?” Togame said with a gentle smile, his eyes full of love. You nodded, wiping away your tears, realizing that no matter how he looked, he would always be the man you loved. But how can he look that good with short hair, how does he pull off everything that he tries?

KIRYU MITSUKI

Kiryu sat patiently on the couch, his beautiful pink hair cascading down his shoulders like cotton candy. You couldn't help but feel thrilled at how soft and silky it felt between your fingers, perfect for trying out various hairstyles. So what were you waiting for? Instantly grabbing some hairpins and a brush, you started to comb his hair with excitement bubbling inside you.

Kiryu remained calm and composed, his expression never wavering even as you inserted the fiftieth hairpin — yes, he counted them, into his meticulously styled locks. You couldn't help but smile at his patience, thinking he looked like a princess, the cutest and the fairest of them all.

"Open your eyes, baby!" you said, your voice brimming with excitement.

Kiryu slowly opened his eyes, gazing into the mirror you held up to him. His eyes widened slightly as he took in his reflection, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked utterly adorable, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at your handiwork.

"Well," he said softly, "how do I look?"

"You look perfect. Absolutely perfect," you replied, grinning from ear to ear, as you gently cupped his face in your hands, always looking at him with those loving eyes, as he put his hands on top of yours. "You did a perfect job playing Fairy Godmother, too. I hope I won't change at midnight."

His smile grew, eyes crinkling at the edges as he leaned into your touch. "If you do, I'll just have to find you again and make sure you stay this way," you teased, knowing full well you won't let him take out the pins anytime soon. Cinderella's magic moment must have ended at midnight, but yours will stay forever.

TSUBAKINO TASUKU platonic + using he/him pronounce for my dearest wife @17020

The moment had finally arrived for your best friend with his signature long, straight black hair adorned with pinkish-red edges, were about to dye his hair at home without classified professionals. You stared at the hair dye kit like it was a ticking time bomb. "Are you sure about this, Tsubaki?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. The idea of turning his entire head red by accident was a very real fear.

"Don’t worry, Y/N-chan! I’m sure it will be fine. I trust you!" Tsubakino chirped, his cheerfulness radiating like sunshine on a cloudy day, always so highly optimistic.

"And that's the problem," you muttered under your breath, glancing at him. He beamed back at you, completely unfazed by your evident nerves. You both sat down in your bathroom-turned-hair-salon, the scent of hair dye filling the air. Tsubakino handed you the brush and dye bottle, his smile never wavering. "Let's do this, Y/N-chan!"

You took a deep breath, steadying your shaking hands. "Okay, here goes nothing." Carefully, you began applying the dye to the edges of his hair. Tsubakino kept his eyes closed, humming a little tune, completely relaxed. Meanwhile, you were concentrating like a surgeon performing a delicate operation. At one point, you accidentally got a little dye on your own hand and panicked, almost dropping the brush.

Tsubakino laughed. "Hey, Y/N-chan, don't want you to turn into Pink Panther!"

"Ha-ha, very funny," you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop a smile from creeping onto your face. After what felt like an eternity, you stepped back to admire your work in the freshly opened hair salon. Tsubakino opened his eyes and looked in the mirror. His hair now had vibrant pinkish-red edges, and no part of his head was accidentally dyed.

He turned to you, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "See, I told you it would be fine! You did an amazing job, Y/N!"

You let out a sigh of relief, a wide grin spreading across your face. "Thanks, Tsubaki. But next time, maybe we should leave it to a professional?"

Tsubakino laughed, wrapping you in a tight hug. "No, it's way more fun this way. Besides, what could possibly go wrong?" Just then, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes widened in horror as you saw a bright red streak in your own hair, right at the front.

"Um, Tsubaki," you said, trying to keep your voice calm, "I think we found out what could go wrong." He looked at you, puzzled, before his eyes followed your gaze to the mirror. He burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "Y/N-chan, you look like a punk rock star!"

You couldn’t help but join in the laughter. "Great. Just what I always wanted," you said sarcastically, but on the bright side you will match with your best friend.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[taisgf]

hc. how i imagine my fave arcane characters in relationships ´ཀ` (sevika, jinx, caitlyn, vi, viktor, jayce x f!reader)

A/N: f!reader, maybe ooc, some nsfw, alc mention. love sevika n cait so much theyre just uuuhhghshs not a single arcane girl that aint fine asf prove me wrong oh wait u can't... I CANT WAIT FOR S2!!!! not proofread because exam szn is kicking my booty

VI

𓇼 Common dates with Vi would no doubt include sparring sessions at the gym, meaning you'll spend hours holding punching bags for her while she trains- talking about whatever. Chances are these hours would morph into playful wrestling, with Vi on top of you attacking your face in small kisses. Things might get a bit steamy, though- don't expect to leave the gym without a few fresh hickeys on your neck..

𓇼 Vi wouldn't be shy about PDA all too much, enjoying subtle, casual and comforting touches. Small pecks to the cheek, a hand on the small of your back, linked fingers. Anything more than that? She'll be too flustered, no doubt about it. Imagine sitting yourself on her lap while she's talking to someone- and suddenly she's unable to focus, get her words out right.

𓇼 Acts of service is for sure one of her love languages. The princess treatment you'd receive from Vi would only be amplified by her eagerness to show off in front of you, too. You can't reach something? She's got it, no problem. Broke something? Vi knows a thing or two, she can fix it. You're hungry? She can whip something up. Anything for her girl.

𓇼 Physical touch is definitely a major comfort and one of Vi's love languages, too. Fight me on this, but she looves little spooning. That's not to say she doesn't big spoon, too- she'll insist on it. However, it's those nights with Vi in your arms you see just how soft and whipped she really is. She isn't as tough as she seems, especially not with her girlfriend. At her core, Vi's just scared of loosing people; so having you there to hold, to feel against her skin is a bigger comfort than you would know.

𓇼 During her time in prison (assuming you didn't just break her out, I know I would) she'd spend her days daydreaming about you to no end. Imagining dates, what she would say to you, waking up next to you again after so long. You're her motivation- no doubt about it.

𓇼 Expect playful, unserious nicknames from Vi- cupcake, sugar, cutie, anything like that. She'd use them mostly ironically, but it would be hard to miss the love in her eyes and the affection in her voice as she says them. Chances are she'd use some variation of your name, too. Vi would love any nickname from you- be it silly or not.

𓇼 She's for sure a restless sleeper- in the sense she's out like a log, but rolling around so much you'd think she was wide awake. You'd fall asleep tucked into her arms, and wake up with her head somehow level with your knees, her foot lodged against your chin- whilst somehow managing to steal all the pillows and duvet.

𓇼 Vi, however, would be super overprotective when she's in a relationship- and it would manifest itself in many ways, most of which could drive you apart. Her lone-wolfish attitude could cause some distance between you two at times, pushing you away when doing anything dangerous in fear of loosing you. She's tough; and might struggle to express vulnerability to you about certain things. This means that she would keep some aspects of her life secret, wanting to separate her relationship with you from any of her vigilante activities.

𓇼 After a while, and probably an instance of you following her around when she specifically told you to stay out of whatever it was, she'd be less underestimating of your ability to hold your own. Only then would she accept your help, and hopefully you'll accept her sincere apology in return.

𓇼 Sleeping with Vi would either be the most sensual, loving and tender experience ever- or the most filthy, disrespectful and lustful one. Either way though, Vi's a giver rather than receiver 99% of the time; and it always, always comes from a place of love. Vi just wants to take care of her girl, you know? She'd love to praise your body, running her coarse hands over your skin while she manhandles you. In Vi's eyes, there's nobody more beautiful than you- and she makes it very known. You'd be reminded in the way your legs don't feel right the following morning, the nips and hickeys on your skin.

CAIT (my gf...)

𓇼 There's nothing Caitlyn loves more than quiet nights in or soft mornings in bed with her love (I'll talk more about that later..). A quiet evening in with you after the day's wrapped up is her favorite part of the day- the only time she can really, truly, relax. Picture her coming back to your quaint Piltover home- throwing off her hat and making her way over to you and just collapsing in your arms, her blue hair sprawled against your shoulder.

𓇼 I don't say this just because of that one scene, but Caitlyn looves to shower together. It ties in to her stress, I think- having her girlfriend wash her back after a long day would calm her to no end. The feeling of your hands, the water, the sound of the drops hitting the ceramic shower floor- the towel against her hair as you dry her off, the fresh sheets hugging her bare form as you crawl into bed. That environment, those little things, are the things that makes Caitlyn love you all the more.

𓇼 Another thing I can see Caitlyn loving are those really deep conversations, the moments she gets a glimpse into your raw soul. Those intellectual, honest conversations are some of her favorite times with you; bonus points if you're half naked with a glass of wine, music playing and it happens to be her day off.

𓇼 Caitlyn would be the type of girl to get grouchy and flustered if she's jealous- using her wit to cover it. She'd be super obvious about it, too- obvious side eyes and breaking eye contact until you ask her what's up.

𓇼 Your dates would be slow, chilled out and relaxing; be it art galleries, restaurants, coffee shops or just cozy days in.

𓇼 I feel like Caitlyn wouldn't be too big on PDA, seeing as she has a reputation and image to uphold in public. Subtle and cute gestures like a linked pinkie or touching legs under a table would happen, sure, but anything more than that you're likely to be met with a chuckle and a soft 'not in public, come on'. She's love to show you off, though- not that she'd ever say so.

𓇼 Words of affirmation and quality time are totally her love languages. She's a busy girl- so the time she does get with you is sacred. In a relationship, I feel like Cait has a real no-bullshit attitude, so communication's a strong suit of hers- and thus words of affirmation. You'll never doubt how much you mean to her.

𓇼 Caitlyn! Writes! Love! Letters! Birthdays, anniversaries, or just any time she's reminded of how much she loves you, away or not, she writes letters. Her handwriting's super fancy, signed with a kiss imprinted into the paper by her lipstick or replaced by a drawing of a heart. Caitlyn would be better at conveying her feelings through pen to paper, so no doubt would she be writing you letter after letter addressed to her love.

𓇼 I get the idea that Cait would just stick to the classic pet names; love, sweetheart, dear, dove. She would love being called them by you- not that she'd ever admit it. She'd chuckle, brushing you off- secretly hoping you'd do it again.

𓇼 Cait loves coming home to find you asleep, waiting up for her. She'd be the type of girl to watch you sleep, letting her eyes rake over your figure as you lie asleep at her desk or curled on the small couch in her bedroom. Speaking of sleep- Cait's a light sleeper, waking at any noise or when she feels you move too far from her. I imagine her sleeping pin straight, for some reason- the duvet tucked tight under her chin, legs straight and arms by her side. She might not be much of a cuddler when she's asleep, but that doesn't mean she isn't during the day.

𓇼 As strong and confident you and Cait would be in your relationship, problems would definitely begin to manifest as the events of the show play out. Cait would get snappy, harsh when she's stressed, only amplified by her independence. She would do her best to keep you out of everything, and would gradually spend less time with you as everything happens. Cait would always make it up to you, though.

𓇼 Just a bonus, but Cait's definitely a morning sex girl. That sacred half hour before she has to get up, just you and her in bed? Best believe she's taking advantage. Cait's a huge service top, in my mind- loving to watch your face as she makes you write, be it by toys or her bare hands.

JINX

𓇼 If you're game enough to date Jinx I feel like she'd make for a really great partner (if you can look past the pranks and obvious lack of stability).

𓇼 Jinx would be fiercely loyal, passionate and affectionate and fiery; at times overdramatic, but it's part of her charm. She's a jealous person by nature which is where her loud, harsh side could come out- but I'm certain all fights would be resolved within the day. Jinx would never mean it- it's just the abandonment issues talking.

𓇼 She'd love to keep you on your toes with pranks, spontaneous gifts and dates- hardly anything's planned in your relationship, but again; it's all part of the charm. (This totally includes off-the-cuff quickies too. Just saying).

𓇼 Jinx loves those days you just hang around her workshop with her- listening to music, talking as she tinkers with some shit you picked up from the street for her. Just having you near is enough- as if she'd ever let you go anywhere, anyway. Whatever she's making is also probably a gift for you- a manifestation of one of her main love languages.

𓇼Late night walks around the Undercity where Jinx shows you some new alley or shop are more than common- most dates taking place outside the home, roaming around.

𓇼 Nobody does PDA like Jinx does PDA. She doesn't say hi- just runs up behind you, pulling you in her arms, running her lips over your neck. It's a comforting thing for her- a way to calm herself down. After a fight, any dangerous situation, it's the feel of your skin against Jinx's calloused hands that she seeks.

𓇼 Physical touch and gift giving are her main love languages, no doubt in my mind. Something's broken? It's fixed, personalized, upgraded. She saw a trinket that reminded her of you? It's yours. It's your birthday, an anniversary or anything of that nature? A handmade gift, just for you. I feel like Jinx would be the type to draw her partner, too; leaving you small sticky notes with stick figure doodles around.

𓇼 Jinx is a chronic starfish sleeper- sorry. She's either taking the whole duvet and mattress in bed, or clinging onto you so tightly that you can hardly move let alone breathe.

𓇼She's an insecure, anxious girl at her core; no doubt manifesting itself in the form of jealousy and possessiveness when she's in a relationship. Like a lot of the other girls, she'd do her best to keep you separate from all the conflict- in an attempt to keep you safe. Jinx can't loose you too. She'd be gone, vanished for long periods of time- something you'd have to get used to.

𓇼She's a fast paced, passionate girlfriend in bed. Rough kisses, your lip between her teeth. Jinx would love to leave marks- small bites, hickeys in obvious spots on your neck, wrists. She's rough, playful yet cautious as the last thing she'd want is to hurt you. Sex would be less of a once-or-twice, prolonged event- more like quick, spontaneous and passionate quickies scattered though out the day; really any time she can get you all alone, public or not.

SEVIKA

𓇼 Sevika is crazy protective— she’d tear through anyone or anything just to keep you safe. You’re her number one priority, and she’ll do whatever it takes to shield you from harm. You’ll often catch her ready to confront anyone who steps out of line, her fierce gaze making it clear she’s got your back no matter what; and reminding others that you're firmly off limits.

𓇼 When it’s time to relax, Sevika loves hitting up a bar for drinks. She’s all about that fun atmosphere, especially when she gets to tease you and push your buttons. Expect her to lean in close, whispering something dirty while you're talking to someone else- then act like nothing happened, ordering another round.

𓇼 And yeah, she gets super jealous—like, possessive jealous. If someone’s chatting you up, you’ll definitely feel her presence. She might just slide her hands under your shirt while you’re talking, a firm hand finding solace on your ass or lower back, making it crystal clear who you belong to. There’s no doubt about her loyalty; she wears her heart on her sleeve. Everyone in Zaun and Piltover alike who knows who Sevika is knows that you're her's.

𓇼 Sevika’s all about physical touch and quality time. Whether she’s got her arm around your waist or just pulling you in for a hug, those little moments mean everything to her- grounding her though out the day.

𓇼 If you find yourself with Sevika in her office during the day, especially if she has others over, best believe she'd pull you atop her lap and keep you there. She'd love to show you off.

𓇼 When it’s bedtime, you’ll find her holding you tight, making sure you’re right next to her. She’s a heavy sleeper, but if she notices you’re not there, she’ll wake up instantly, reaching out for you to pull you back in. It’s her way of keeping you close, even in her sleep.

𓇼 Sevika has a little stash of photos of you—some a bit scandalous, definitely. She'd keep them tucked away in her jacket pocket, her personal collection of your best moments. A polaroid (if they even exist in Zaun) of you, all pretty with no shirt or bra; looking up at her. That's her favorite, for sure. Or maybe the one of you in her shower, all soapy and giggling? She can't choose.

𓇼 But here’s the thing: her protectiveness can often times come off as controlling. She worries a lot, and while you know she loves you, there are times when it can feel suffocating. Still, deep down, it’s all about her trying to keep you safe from everything she's involved in.

𓇼 Card game queen. Loves to 'let you win' but most of the time it's just that you genuinely beat her, and Sevika just doesn't wanna admit it.

𓇼The strap is HUGE good lord. In bed you're nothing more than her pretty toy- putty in her hands, weak for her touch (wouldn't we all be?). She'd love to just sink into the couch, watching you squirm and moan, beg and whine for her while she gets you off, be it by some toy or her hand(s?).

toxic wlw with sevika.... huge age and size gap...... being her pretty little thing... nibbling at the bars of my enclosure and drooling everywhere i need her so bad vro

JAYCE

𓇼 Jayce is all about being creative partners, bouncing ideas off each other and collaborating. Whether you’re working on a project or just daydreaming about the future, he’s your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up and encouraging you. He'd find inspiration in your passion- fueling his own motivation.

𓇼 When you’re together, it’s usually a mix of relaxation and productivity. (I think it's called 'body doubling'? ADHD king honestly)

𓇼 You might find yourselves working side by side in his lab crafting something new, or just enjoying the time together while he rants about the council or rattles off his new ideas; applications for hextech. He thrives in those collaborative moments, and the chemistry between you both makes everything feel effortless and romantic.

𓇼 Jayce can get pretty insecure when it comes to jealousy. Instead of getting mad, he tends to overthink things, imagining scenarios that might not even be real. You'd notice him being a bit quiet or withdrawn if he thinks someone’s getting too close- he wants to be the one who makes you happy, and him alone.

𓇼 Physical touch, like most others on my list, is a big deal for Jayce. He loves to pull you in for side hugs or wrap an arm around your shoulders while you’re talking or pass each other through out the day. He knows how packed and hectic your schedules are; so he treasures those small moments. Those little gestures are his way of showing you how much he appreciates you, in his own little way.

𓇼 And don’t be surprised if he surprises you with little gifts or gestures. He might bring home a trinket that he'd made or saw in a shop window he thought you’d like, showing that he’s always thinking of you, even when he’s busy with his work. It’s his way of reminding you how much you mean to him- in the midst of his gruelling work hours.

𓇼 But sometimes, his overthinking can lead to misunderstandings. He might pull away a bit when he’s feeling insecure, and you’ll need to reassure him that he’s the one you want- that his elaborate scenarios and stupid insecurities don't mean anything. A little gentle nudging and open conversations can help him see just how much you care, and your touch always grounds him well.

𓇼 I feel like Jayce is a total bottom- far more submissive than people give him credit for. Look at him. He's definitely been pegged at least once. At his core, though, I feel like he's a more vanilla guy. Slow, soft romantic nights and mornings with you are more his speed; spare the odd shitty day at work where he either needs you to take care of him, or to get your permission to ravish you until he forgets about whatever he was mad about.

VIKTOR

𓇼 Viktor’s love language is all about that parallel play. He might not be the most overtly affectionate, but you can feel the warmth when you’re both just doing your own thing in the same space. Whether he’s tinkering with a new invention or you’re reading nearby, the comfort of simply being together speaks volumes to him.

𓇼 Time with Viktor is rare, often snatched in small moments away from the hectic world outside. He prefers those soft, chilled vibes over fast-paced outings. You might find yourselves just hanging out in your cozy home or his workshop, surrounded by all his gadgets and loose leaf papers. Those quiet moments are where he truly shines, sharing snippets of his world with you- quiet, spare the odd "Y/N; could you look this over for me?".

𓇼 When he’s with you, Viktor can’t help but get a bit playful and competitive. He loves to tease, whether it’s subtly poking fun at your skills or playfully challenging you to solve some problem (IDK what nerds do bear with me gang..). He’s all about that friendly competition, and it’s adorable to see his competitive side come out, even if he’s not taking it too seriously- a contrast from how cold he can be when engrossed in his work. It's special in the sense it's just for your eyes, too.

𓇼 Viktor is surprisingly protective in his own way. He might not be the type to confront anyone directly, but he’ll always look out for you from the shadows, making sure you’re safe. You can sense his care in the little things—like how he’ll adjust your scarf on a chilly day or keep an eye on your health when you’re feeling under the weather.

𓇼 Physical touch is definitely a part of his affection, but it’s often subtle. A hand resting on your back while he explains something, a lean against you as he stands, or a gentle brush of his fingers as he reaches for a tool. Those little touches mean a lot, showing that he’s there for you without being overly demonstrative- he's not showy like that.

𓇼 Viktor's got a variety of cute quirks- all adorable in their own right. He'd have a habit of doodling sketches of you in the margins of his notes or jotting down ideas inspired by your conversations. It’s his way of holding onto those moments, turning your shared time into something tangible he can revisit later, draw innovation from.

𓇼 Although at times Viktor's intense focus on his work can lead to him getting a bit lost in his projects. It might feel like he’s prioritizing whatever new hex-tech development or theory over spending time with you. However, you know it’s just his passion and dedication to making the world better, and he always makes sure to carve out time for you when it counts- just something you'd grow used to, and even appreciate.

𓇼 In bed Viktor's tame- romantic and sensual. Like Jayce, he'd be soft and slow on account of his weakness, but in no way does that mean it wouldn't be good. He's definitely good with his hands, too.

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

You belong to me

Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy

Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part

A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭

Akaza

Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?

Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.

How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.

"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.

Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.

Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.

"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.

"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.

"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.

"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.

Nakime

Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.

"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.

"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.

"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.

"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.

To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."

During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.

"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face

You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.

Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.

Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.

You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.

"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"

Kokushibo

His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.

Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.

"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.

He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.

"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.

Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.

His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.

You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.

You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.

He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.

"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.

"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"

Douma

His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.

You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.

You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.

You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.

Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.

"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.

"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.

"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.

"You belong to me and me alone~"

Muzan

2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.

You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.

Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.

The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.

"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.

"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.

"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.

It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.

"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.

"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.

"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.

"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.

"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.

He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"

[starkeysprincess]

LATE NIGHT NEEDS ༉‧₊˚..

pairing: perv!bsf!rafe cameron x oblivious!reader summary: your best friend, rafe, calls you one night to talk, or so you think.

warnings: male masturbation, smut 18+ only, perv bsf rafe, oblivious/unaware reader, sexual themes

a/n: ty to my faves @oceandriveab for proof reading hehe and @babygorewhore for helping me w the title MWAH

gif creds: @tetragonia

It was currently two in the morning when you woke up to the sound of your phone going off. You grabbed your phone, squinting as you looked to see several missed calls from your best friend, Rafe.

Just as you were about to call him back, your phone rang again. "Rafe?" you mutter as you answer the call but all you can hear is heavy breathing. "Hello?" you call out again and there's a small pause, "Yeah, 's me" his voice is low, "I've been trying to reach you all damn night".

"It's two in the morning" you groan, your eyes can barely stay open. "Just wanted to talk to my best friend, 's all" he breathes heavily, "Hold on, let me facetime you".

Before you can say anything, he switches the call to a facetime call, which of course, you accept it. As soon as he appears on the screen of your phone, you take notice that he was in his bed, sitting up against his headboard. He held his phone at an angle that showed his face and down to gist shirtless chest. “Why are you up?” was the first thing you asked, which made him chuckle, “Can’t talk to my best friend?”.

You give him a look, “At two in the morning?”. He shrugs, “Couldn’t sleep”. There was a pause and you could’ve sworn you heard the faint sound of heavy breathing but brushed it off, “Just got somethin’ on my mind” he added.

His comment makes you sit up in your bed and reach over to turn your bedside lamp on. As soon as you turned on the lamp, the light illuminated your features, causing Rafe to let out a small groan, one that you didn’t hear.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the FaceTime call, Rafe’s room was filled with the wet sounds of his hand stroking himself as he talked to you. His breathing was heavy and he was more than thankful at how oblivious you are.

For as long as Rafe has known you, he always knew you were an oblivious little thing. You never knew what was going on around you. It honestly turned him on even more knowing that you had no clue what he was doing on the other side of the FaceTime call.

"Wanna talk about what's on your mind?" you question, "No, ‘m fine. Just talk, wanna hear you talk" Rafe grunts, "You always make me feel better". You eagerly nodded because you would do anything to make him feel better. He was your best friend, after all.

He wasn’t really paying attention to exactly what you were saying, his mind is too focused on imagining how you’d sound under him as he moves his hand faster on his length and god, he just knew you’d make the prettiest fucking sounds for him.

As much as he loved listening to your voice and seeing your pretty little face on his screen, he desperately needed more. He needed to feel closer to you, almost as if you were with him in his bed.

Luckily, for Rafe, he knew just exactly how he can somewhat get the feeling of you wrapped around him.

He stopped for a second, unwrapping his hand from around himself before reaching into his pillowcase, pulling out a pair of your panties that he had stolen from the last time he was in your room. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near being what your cunt would feel like but it was the closest he could get to.

He wraps your panties around the base of his cock and starts stroking himself again. "Fuck" he groans, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. "Everything okay?" your voice rings through his ears, "Mhm, everything's good" he mutters, "So fuckin' good".

"What are you doing?" you ask curiously, still unaware of what he's really doing. "Just takin' care of something, nothing your pretty little head should worry about" he grunts, his hand moving faster as he opens his eyes to look at you while you were too busy paying attention to god knows what.

He bites his lip as he roughly fists his length up and down. The feeling of your panties wrapped around his cock, your voice, and the sight of you was all starting to get to him and he can feel himself getting close.

"Look at me" Rafe commanded with heavy-lidded eyes, his hand never slowing down. You stopped what you were doing and looked into the camera. "Oh fuck" he grunted as he reaches his orgasm, spurts of his cum covering your panties that he had wrapped around him.

"Are you sure you're okay, Rafe?" you question with concern, only to receive a smirk from him, "Never felt better" he mutters as he stares at your panties covered in his cum.

[ping-ski]

a dating sim cause love wins i think

Quickly fnaf fans! You are given 5 years and as much resources as you need to make a new fnaf game. What are you making?????

[nu11lar]

he would be the type of person to go wayy too far into fucking you, wether it will be during a dinner gathering or... in the balcony. he would either have your stomach pressed against the cold railings or make you hold onto them while he abuses your sopping hole from behind. it doesn't matter if it's too risky, embarrassing, or humiliating, he would not care. not even a single bit.

it will turn him even more on if someone across the apartment building is also out in the balcony, having the chance for the person to see just two people making love at night in the balcony, now that's some murda b shit.

he'll press his chest against your back and place his hands ontop of yours, keeping you still. his lips inches closer to the shell of your ear as his hot breath fans over it. you're practically begging him to slow down and do this somewhere else but he refuses, he just wants to show the world what kind of slut you are for your boyfriend/fiancé.

"hm? you're sayin' that this is embarrassing? then how come you're creaming all over my dick and tightening around me huh? silly girl, you're enjoying this."

"tsk, tsk, what a whore. you enjoy being watched by the people across from us while i fuck you dumb eh? i should do this more- fuck- more often.."

he just loves to humiliate you, doesn't he?

🦢 ㅡ GOJO SATORU, TOJI FUSHIGURO, geto suguru, RAN HAITANI, HANMA SHUJI, manjiro "mikey" sano, izana kurokawa, scaramouche, CHILDE, wriothesley, hobie brown, DAZAI OSAMU, CHUUYA NAKAHARA, fyodor dostoevsky, NIKOLAI GOGOL, sanemi shinazugawa, DOUMA, + any of your faves !