#another day of wishing these two arm in arm

[diodellet]

try wishing for it: magical girl au (scarabia x gn!reader)

inspired by @ceruleancattail's magical girl au and @yan-lorkai's yandere genie fic. note: i also imagine scarabia's mascot form to look like this. title is ripped from tohma's magical girl eudaemonics. content warnings: -yandere (if you squint, since scarabia's taking the role of kyubey in this fic. references of manipulation and general moral grayness.) -fic uses "magical girl" but means it in a gender-neutral sense (reader is referred to with they/them pronouns) word count: 2.7k words

Being a magical girl means gaining the power to do virtually anything you can dream of.

The first time you defeat a wraith, you stare in awe at your hands, breathing heavily from sheer excitement rather than exertion. With one final roar, the beast falls to the ground, before dissolving into black smoke.

“Woah, you did it! You really took it down!” Kalim barrels into you, gushing praise after praise. “See, Jamil? I told you they were going to be powerful!” 

Jamil is more mindful of you, instead floating over to land on your other shoulder. “Nice job.”

“You’re a natural!” Kalim’s bouncing with joy in your palm, waving his little stubby arms. “You probably won’t even need to use your three wishes!”

Right, there was that. In the case that you were against an overwhelmingly powerful foe, you could draw on your familiars’ magic—a ‘wish,’ they called it.

“Don’t jinx them, Kalim.”

“...What happens if I asked for more wishes?”

“It doesn’t work like that.” The stitches of Jamil’s plush smile don’t change, but there’s a note of something foreboding in his words. “Though, you don’t seem like the type to squander them. Don’t worry about it too much.” Despite their cartoonish appearance, your familiars’ words and warnings carried a grave weight

Your gaze drifts to the slain wraith. All that remains is the tarnished metal collar that hung around its neck, until it too crumbles into dust.

There’s something hauntingly beautiful in that faint shimmer of gold as it gets blown away by the wind.

Being a magical girl means toting around two innocuous round plushies of your familiars to class.

With your new double life, you get two new companions following you around. It means bearing Kalim’s excited chattering as you take notes, dealing with Jamil’s snide teasing as your classmates point out your new bag charms.

What you don’t expect is to see the two of them sitting in your living room the next morning, clad in your school’s uniform.

“Good mor—oof!” Your book bag collides with Kalim’s chest and you use the momentum to drag him and Jamil by the elbow out of your house, ignoring your dad’s concerned calls with a loud “I’m heading out!”

You didn’t get the memo that being able to transform was part of their repertoire as magical familiars, but you should’ve expected this. Between Kalim’s thousand-kilowatt smile and Jamil’s calculating gaze, you very much prefer them as small round plushies.

(It’s strange that your schoolmates and teachers don’t question the two new additions to the class, but you appreciate that your cover wasn’t blown with this curveball. You suspect it might have to do with the red glow in Jamil’s eyes. You decide to question them at the end of the class day.)

“It’d be better if one of you stayed as a plushie.”

“Then that means it would be Jamil since he’s better at keeping attention off of us.”

“By that logic, they’re talking about you, Kalim.” Is it you or is that a hint of a smile on Jamil’s lips?

“Oh.” Kalim’s expression falls into a pout. “But I like attending classes with you!”

He probably wouldn’t like it as much during exams week. “I wouldn’t be able to keep a low profile if people noticed you…guys following me around.”

“Aw, I guess so…Thanks for treating us to ice cream, though!”

You offer to buy them another one, just to make their one and only day at school special. You start heading towards another freezer, there’s a special lottery on these soda popsicles.

Jamil’s attention turns toward the counter. He’d been eyeing the person at the cashier. “Wait, something seems—” 

And that’s all the warning he can give before a group of wraiths crashes through the convenience store wall. Ending up in a sprawled mess of tangled limbs was not ideal. It’s settled, you definitely preferred them in their plushie forms.

Being a magical girl means getting woken up by Kalim in the middle of the night to patrol the city.

As a hand-sized plush ball, he’s already pretty strong. But under the cover of night, he can shed his disguise and drag accompany you around to see you deliver justice to evildoers. 

Your drowsiness fades away as you leap from rooftop to rooftop, dispatching fledgeling wraiths hiding in narrow alleyways, stopping drunken confrontations, watching over lone pedestrians traversing through seedier parts of the city.

“There’s another one, it’s a low-ranking wraith!”

“I’ve got it!” Magic gathers around your weapon, bathing it in golden light as you swing and cleave the monster into two.

It didn’t even get a fighting chance to writhe or fight back. All it can do is dissipate into nothing.

Which is for the best.

“That was so quick!” Kalim bounds over to you as your weapon fades out of view. “You’re getting better and better at fighting!”

“Well, you did say it was a weak one…” You tug at the collar of your outfit. His praise feels like staring into the glare of the sun, straight on. “I’m probably not that much better than those other magical girls before me.”

“Still! It doesn’t make you any less amazing—Are you hurt anywhere?” Kalim starts looking you over for any injuries that he might have missed.

Too close. “Not a scratch. Come on, let’s head home.”

Though you should’ve expected things would go sideways at some point, that the night would bring untold horrors instead of passing peacefully. In a mix of your carelessness and Kalim’s overexcitement, an avian-like wraith appears and catches you both offguard, talons closing around his midsection and carrying him into the sky, each powerful beat of its wings taking him farther and farther away from you.

Adrenaline surges through you and the asphalt of the sidewalk cracks underneath your soles as you leap to the sky in pursuit. “Kalim!” Just before you can close the distance, he screams at you to get back, making you falter. A long shadow whips through the air—a prehensile tail of sorts—preventing you from approaching. 

Switching tactics, you aim for its wings. Better to bring it to the ground.

(Miraculously, Kalim got the cue to turn into his plushie form to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. You manage to catch him before the both of you crash. Though, Kalim’s awed gushing was probably going to give you a sunburn.)

Being a magical girl means Jamil takes your healthcare into his own hands, sometimes.

“It’s the sleep deprivation.”

“No, it’s not.” A coughing fit strikes you at that moment, betraying the extent of your sickness.

“It’s because you’re overexerting yourself with your ‘nightly escapades.’”

“Fine—so what if I am? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? To protect helpless people day and night?”

“Obviously, not at the cost of your own wellbeing!”

You didn’t think you would ever end up in this kind of situation, being yelled at by a floating plush ball while confined to your bed of messy blankets and used tissues.

The angry heat in your face is making your headache worse, makes you see gray for a moment before you could fire back.

“...I’m sorry,” you spit without an ounce of penance.

Jamil sighs. “Well. There’s no use in pressing the matter any further.” Just before he disappears, he tells you to get some rest.

Easier said than done.

The minutes inch by agonizingly slow. Your room is so silent, magnifying the buzz of your own thoughts. Up until this point, your life became a whirlwind of academics, extracurriculars, and fighting evil monsters. But at this moment of standstill, you can’t help but come to the realization that he was right. With your rashness, you basically incapacitated yourself. Sure, your familiars were also capable magic users. Sure, they could hold off wraiths from doing any major damage, but the thought that this entire situation could have been avoided, that this was entirely your fault—

A tear slips down your cheek, then more and more, until you’re quietly sobbing, frustrated, into your palms.

The mattress of your bed dips with the added weight of another person. “Mom—”

Jamil shushes you. “Drink this first.” You hear the rustle of plastic—did he go to the pharmacy?—and feel him press two tablets into your hand. As you swallow them, he hands you a glass of water. His other hand rests against your sweat-covered back, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. 

(It is a stark contrast to his rough words from earlier.)

“I thought you…” They probably had other magical fighters to watch over, didn’t they?

It’s probably the fever messing with your senses, but there’s an uncharacteristic softness in Jamil’s voice. “Shh. No more of that, now.”

“...then why?” Were you really the only one?

“Just focus on getting better.” 

“But—”

“Your mom’s making soup for dinner, she will come to check on you in an hour. I’ll stay with you until then. Rest.” 

His words are not enough to placate your worries fully, but there’s a soft glow of red in his irises that makes you acquiesce and close your eyes, all while clutching onto Jamil’s wrist.

Being a magical girl means thinking up new ways to explain your many conversations “to yourself.”

Your parents are easy, it’s just the angst of youth. But your siblings are a little more difficult to convince. In addition to your moments of listlessness, they can hear your frantic back and forth pacing and the thump of you throwing your plushies against the paper-thin walls of your room. It can only mean one thing—

“Get out! I’m not having romance issues!” You slam the door behind your sibling’s cackles.

Your familiars remain still, seated on your bed until the sound of footsteps is sufficiently out of earshot.

“Are you really seeing someone?” Kalim pipes up.

“No!” You bury your face into your hands. “I—How would I have the time for that?”

“Besides,” Jamil chimes in, “we’re the only ones who’ve been accompanying them. Unless—”

Your body moves of its own accord, snatching Jamil with both hands and giving him a threatening squeeze, an unspoken ‘don’t you dare finish that sentence’ left hanging in mid-air.

When he stays quiet, your death grip lightens up. Just a little bit. A heavy exhale leaves your frame. “Look, for all that we’ve gone through—”

(A part of you is hesitant to admit it but, having gained them as new companions made your journey as a magical girl feel less daunting. You felt safe knowing that you could rely on them to watch your back, in spite of the close calls you’ve had. 

As for whether or not you’d started looking at them differently, well, you’d need more time to think on it. There. End of conversation.)

“I guess… I’m glad I met you. The both of you,” you finished lamely.

The silence that followed was deafening. For once, you’d wished their plushie forms could emote more instead of giving you that placid smile. 

With a pop! and shower of golden sparks, Kalim’s arms close around you in a tight hug. A bright grin splitting his cheeks. “I’m happy we’re friends too!”

“Stop squeezing me!” Jamil grits out.

Being a magical girl means double checking your word choice, especially for any quips and retorts.

The first time you transformed, you commented offhandedly about your footwear and Jamil made a little adjustment to your attire. 

With a snap of his fingers, a golden bangle clasps around your ankle. Lightweight, no doubt it would look beautiful when the light hits it at the right angle, but—

A frown pulls at your lips.

“Would you like another one? Just for some…symmetry,” Jamil suggests. 

You decide better against responding to that. 

“Think of it as a gift from me and Kalim.”

Was this something they bestowed to every magical fighter they took under their wing? “...Some gift this is.”

“Relax, you still have three wishes left. I won’t trick you into wasting them.”

Well, that diminished most of your initial doubt. “How can I be sure of that?” you question.

Jamil’s head tilts to the side, appraising you with an eerily-observant gaze. “All you have to do is ask. Anything that your heart desires, anything your mind can conceive.” 

You don’t like how his eyes are trained on you, making you feel small. You pick at an imaginary speck of dirt on your top, straighten out the already-impeccable fabric.

A thick silence falls over the both of you.

“...Will you—will you both ask me if I’m sure, before granting my wish?” It’s such a stupid thing to worry about, to fuss over the intricacies of your arrangement as Magical Girl and Familiar.

“Of course.” Jamil gives you a smile. “Shall we head to where Kalim is?”

“Yeah.” Your weapon appears in your hand with a flash of gold. “Let’s destroy that wraith’s nest.”

(More than desires you want fulfilled, there are anxieties you want quelled, fears you want silenced. Miracles to the myriad of unfortunate catastrophes that plagued your home—the flawed world that you lived in. So what if you contained untold power at your fingertips? You were only one person tasked with the protection of hundreds. At the peak of your distress—in the midst of sirens and flashing lights—you call for Jamil and utter your first wish through choked sobs.)

Being a magical girl means not relying on your powers, sometimes.

The trapped kitten gives another pitiful wail, thrashing against your grip as you clamber down the tree. In holding onto it tightly, you earn a set of angry-red scratch marks along the backs of your hands before reaching solid ground. The kitten bounds away with a final hiss.

“Why didn’t you transform?” Kalim asks.

You shrug, running a finger over one of the scratches. “I guess it’s ’cause I didn’t wanna mess up the outfit.”

“What do you mean?”

Bashful, your gaze ducks to your shoes, worn from years of use but sturdily hanging on. “It’s just, lately, the wraiths have been getting more and more powerful. And I…” Feel weak? Pressured? Alright, maybe you were still hung up over leaving a little crater at a major intersection, but it was either that or letting the ursine wraith lay waste to the nearby shopping center. There wasn’t any time to dwell on those shortcomings.

(But your mind liked to circle back to it. Was there any more you could do? Why couldn’t you do more?)

They warned you about this, that at some point, you would end up facing more destructive wraiths. That you would have to choose among innocents.

He takes your injured hands. “You can always make a wish.” Kalim’s healing magic washes over you, cool and gentle, like a stream of water. You watch the scratches slowly close up until they become nothing more than a set of faint white lines. “That’s what me and Jamil are for.”

“That’s true…”

“Anything you want.” Kalim repeats. “I’ll make it happen.”

It’s those simple words— and the sight of him cradling your hands in his palms—that grant you the courage to speak your next words, your second wish.

Being a magical girl means weighing your soul against the lives of people, friends and strangers alike.

“Come on, you have to get up.” Tears are streaming down Kalim’s cheeks, his hands hover by your prone and bloodied form, unsure of which wounds to heal.

Wearily, you gaze cranes upwards as if every bit of movement caused pain throughout your body.

Jamil has witnessed this scenario a thousand times. He keeps a stoic face. “Are you just going to let them destroy everything?”

“...I can’t let them…”

“You’re hurting yourself! Jamil, you have to do something!”

“It’s not my choice to make.”

When in the face of an unstoppable threat—a horde of chimeran wraiths that will lay waste to your home, will you make that final third wish and trust in them?

Jamil knows how you’ll answer. Rather than using them as quick and easy schemes, your first two wishes were—in some way—made for the good of others around you. For someone who won’t even know or care about that small bit of kindness. At the core of every human is a desperate self-preservation instinct that pushes them to make a final wish. And like clockwork, you will follow like the rest of the magical girls that they created. It’s a strategy that has benefited him and Kalim. And he has been fervently waiting for this moment, for a powerful one like you to—

“I’m...not giving up…!”

Or not? 

His lips curl into a smile. “Then give them hell.”

They can wait this out. Compared to their infinite lifespan, your emotional fortitude was only a drop in the ocean.

a/n: aaaa thanks @jessamine-rose for betaing this fic with ur fresh eyes. this au rlly gave me brainworms of the feral variety, i think i liked leaving most of the details ambiguous and free to interpretation, but i might come up with a separate author's note post about worldbuilding bits i couldnt fit in? eh we'll see! i hope yall enjoyed reading this! tagging some jamilnatics: @viperwhispered @twstgo @just-a-little-silly @mama-m1na @crystallizsch @sillystr1ngs (lmk if you wanna join the taglist for jamil writing in the replies)

[jweekgoji]

Will you write for some Yandere!Orion Pax x reader? 👉👈

Yandere!Orion Pax/Reader [TFO/hcs]

tw: yandere themes, gn!cybertronian!reader, very brief mention of murder/death, mostly soft!yandere!Orion, overprotective, dependent behavior. word count: ~1000. a/n: i love making headcanons.

Orion is an obsessive, clingy and overprotective yandere that's for sure.

Orion is focused on you 24/7 in his mind, every time he's going out with someone else, he will constantly think of you. He's not having a fixation on you, like D-16 would with his darling, more like a thoughtful «I wonder if they will like it if I give it to them» or «if I COULD transform, I would be carrying them around everywhere!». His thoughts are mostly innocent, even though they often lead him to cause even more trouble. He will seek out a thousand risky stunts to do just to impress you, and he doesn't really care if Darkwing will beat him up because of it.

It is no secret that Orion is clingy. I already described it in other posts, and I will ramble about it again, but that silly guy does NOT know how to keep his servos to himself. Yandere Orion just can't comprehend the fact that you may not like it. You can find it weird, rude or just not tactile, and if he finds out, that's a pure torture. At first, he might find it funny and not take it seriously, you're probably in that «edgy, no nonsense and independent» phase some bots have, so he finds it his own personal goal to warm you up to him.

If you're somehow still adamant about it, I can see him trying to restrain himself from just squishing you against his frame the second he sees you in the same room with him. Cogless tiny Orion will be a sweetheart, so he always finds a way to satisfy his own needs without crossing the line. One day it's a simple touch on your shoulder, then he will try to hold your servo if lucky, and maaaaybe even give you a tiny peck on the cheek as soon as you look away from him. Touch is his love language!

Yandere cogged Orion/Optimus is a huge sweetheart but when he's tired and emotionally drained, the only thing he wants is to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to himself. Stay like that and don't say a word, it's not like you have a chance to escape.

Orion doesn't look like a person who thinks about his own safety. You will watch him running around Iacon from another trouble he got himself into, and he will even drag D-16 with him. Even though in his mind, it's for a better cause, If you're really close and dear to him, he also wants you to be the part of this adventure because he desires the better future for everyone and for both of you specifically. Together.

As Orion, still young, idealistic and naive bot, I never see him taking away your freedom. If you wish to tag along with him on the race, even though it's the most dangerous thing ever, especially with both of you not having any t-cogs...he will gladly accept it! As yandere Orion always cares about your well-being, but it's never the boring «I will lock you up just so you will always be safe» type of overprotectiveness. He neglects his own well-being to the point where he will gladly lose an arm or a leg if it means protecting you, and he doesn't care that he might die because of it.

You should constantly remind him to check Ratchet at least for once, but he will jokingly dismiss it since he's more concerned about that tiny dent on your frame. How did you get it? Do you need him helping you to polish? Orion already drags you to medic, meanwhile he is standing there holding broken metal pieces of his own body and like “that's just a scratch!”.

We all saw how Orion got protective over Elita once she was fired by Darkwing. His first thoughts are "yeah, I will NOT let that slide" even though he is two times smaller than their supervisor. Orion is a fighter for justice, for his darling he's a true gentleman, or...tries to be at least.

He's not that type of yandere who will murder someone if they hurt you, because his own beliefs are strong and unclouded. Yes, in the heat of battle, when it's either your life or the life of the enemy, he will never hesitate to end them, but even then he feels guilty about it (especially if we talk about young Orion/Optimus). If he actually ends up hurting someone, he will be devastated, and might as well take a long time to process it all.

How did it happen? How could he let this happen? He fights for freedom, for everyone, no matter if they're enemy or not, they all deserve at least a one chance for redemption. There will be a time when Orion blames himself for it, it corrupts his spark slowly, to the point where he thinks of himself as unworthy of you.

As much as Orion is an inspiring, he's self-conscious. The more not-so-happy events you go through together, the more he becomes dependent on you. You're a part of Orion's life, he can't shine brightly without his little satellite.

Yandere!Orion would constantly need you by his side. It doesn't matter where he is going, as long as he is with you. During his lowest moments, he wants you to reassure him and give him that comfort that will keep him at bay. He didn't mean to hurt anyone, but that worry and spark of rage blinded him, leaving his own servos dirty in the stranger's energon.

Young Orion is one of the softest yanderes to deal with. He still has to learn a lot about his own place in this world, his motivation, and his strength. Everything felt so easy when you were just two cogless bots, but the more time passes, the harder it is to deal with more complex feelings. Jealousy, disappointment, and regret. At the end of the day, you're the only person to keep him sane and not to collapse from the responsibilities on his shoulders. The problem is, it is too hard to get rid of that dependence.

[hyukasmiles]

—Yeonjun—

Yeonjun misses you. Misses you so so so bad, hates when he has to be away from you. Texts you over and over and over again that he wishes you were with him, pouts to his members when you reply that he’ll be home in a few days and it’ll be ok.

He knows it’s true, two more days in Japan and he’ll be back in your arms, but here; alone in his hotel room he’s so overwhelmed with missing you tears well up in his eyes.

You pick up his facetime almost immediately, your tired, pretty features making him miss you more. “Awe..” You coo, kissing your screen. “My Junnie is crying.”

“I miss you.” His frown hurts. “My heart hurts.”

“I miss you too! So excited for you to come home!” You shift, so innocently, just trying to get comfortable but your pretty tits come into his view and Yeonjun is reminded of another thing he misses. “You’ve got my perfume, spray it on your pillow it might help you sleep.”

The tank top you’re wearing is so thin, pretty nipples almost completely visible through the fabric. “Yeah… that’s a good idea.” He doesn’t tell you he’s already drenched his bed and clothes in it, or that he’s quickly getting hard in his pants.

“Three days, Junnie, you’ll make it.” You move again, yawning and stretching and putting your body on display for him. “I miss you too, I had your hoodie on earlier but it’s too hot for it.”

Surely you won’t notice his hand slipping into his waistband. “We’re coming back a day early this time, so only two.” You make a noise in the back of your throat, eyes going wide as you smile out a yay.

“Really!” Your face presses closer at the same time his hand wraps around his achy cock. “That’s great! I can’t wait!” He can’t either, tempted to book a plane ticket and rush back to you now. “Are you guys having fun in Japan? Do any shopping before the concert?”

“Ye-yeah, I got you some stuff.” Another little noise and his hand slowly tugs upwards in his dick. “A sh- A shirt and some makeup from don quixote.”

“Awe, thank you.” Yeonjun’s hips jump, your hand would feel so much better, any part of you would feel better. Your tits are in his view again and the thought of fucking them draws a whine out of him, stopping you mid sentence. “You ok?”

“Yeah..” His voice is unstable, hand speeding up as you raise an eyebrow. “I’m jus-t tired and miss y-you.” His thumb swipes over his tip and another whine is pulled out of him.

“I guess I should hang up if you’re so tired.” You pull away from the camera, perfect boobs finally on full display for him. He wishes he was there to see them in person, too squeeze and lick and kiss and fuck.

Yeonjun panics a little, hand stopping as you try to say goodnight. “No- no, I want to hear your voice.” He rolls onto his stomach, hips hitting against the mattress. “Need to hear your voice. I just miss you so much.” His phone slips out of his as he reaches for a perfume-soaked pillow, groaning as your smell fills his brain.

“Do you feel good, Junnie?” You coo, seeming to have caught on to him. “Pick me up, I want to see.” Yeonjun props his phone against the bed frame, sitting up to show you his erection. “Look at that, so hard.”

“I miss you. Want to fuck your tits so bad.” You kiss your teeth, free hand cupping your boob and jiggling it a little. “Wanna cum all over them n’ then fuck your pretty cunt.”

“Show me how you’d do it, Junnie.” He picks up the pillow again, folding it in half and sliding his weeping dick between the fold. His knuckles turn white with his grip, hips rolling into the pillow. “Does it feel as good as me?”

“No.” He laughs, hips hitting the pillow harder. “Your cunt is so fucking warm, makes me feel like my dick is gonna melt, and your skin his so soft in my hands. It’s just fucking heaven to fuck you, nothing will ever come close.” You blush at his words, cooing about how sweet he is.

Yeonjun’s hips drop moving to rut against the mattress again, he can feel pressure building up, your pretty face and tits edging his release. “I wanna see you cum, Junnie.” His orgasm hits him then and there, shoulders sagging as he cums over the cotton sheets.

“Fuck- fuck I wish you were here.” His hips slow as he calms down, using his hand to milk out every last bit of cum. “Feels like a waste when my perfect girlfriend looks so pretty covered in my cum.”

—

inbox always open 🎀

[emthephantom]

'Studying'- L.B

Lorenzo Berkshire x F!Reader You got yourself a date but how will Enzo react? Warnings: Slightly suggestive but no actual smut Words: 1032 A/N: Sorry for the lack of posts and how rushed this is - This is a bit different to what I usually write but I hope you guys enjoy this one :)

'Enz!' you shout as you run into the Great Hall. Enzo looks up at the sound of his name and sees you approaching him with a piece of paper. You plop down next to him at the table and slam the paper down, 'I passed!' you squeal excitedly, 'Thank you so much for your help, I couldn't do it without you.' you gush, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, bringing him into a short hug, one he wished would last longer. 'It's no problem Y/N/N, you know I don't mind helping you study.'

Enzo's about to speak again when another voice interrupts him, 'Y/N.' You turn around and meet Oliver Wood's gaze, 'I was wondering if you'd like to come to Hogsmeade with me.' 'She's bus-' Enzo starts. 'Sure, would tomorrow be alright?' you ask sweetly. Oliver smiles and nods before returning to his table. Pansy immediately gasps and grabs you, 'Oh my god Y/N, I'm so happy for you!' 'Pans, it's just one date.' 'Who's to say there won't be more?' she giggles. 'I thought we were studying tomorrow?' Enzo asks sheepishly. 'We are, I'll just have to leave earlier.' Disappointed he turns back to his food, poking at it with his fork- Had he finally lost you to someone else?

The next day, you find yourself in Enzo's dorm, a usual occurrence. It had been a few hours and flashcards were sprinkled across the room, long forgotten. The two of you lay on his bed, giggles and laughter filling the room; you had always liked Enzo's laugh which is why moments like these were so special. 'No, I'm being serious, first week here I tripped and fell face flat on the stairs.' Enzo revealed, a goofy grin appearing on his face. You gasped, 'I think I saw that!' 'No you didn't!' Mischief flooded his widened eyes as his hands reached for your body, beginning to tickle you. 'Enz, no!' Your protests were ignored as Enzo continued his torture. He moved to straddle you as a way to keep you still, 'Say you didn't see me fall Y/N!' he demanded, his slender fingers still digging into your hips. 'NEVER!' you shouted.

Soon after, a comfortable silence fell over you. You were suddenly aware of the position and your face flushed. A desire in you resurfaced, one you pushed back ever so hard; you wish Enzo was yours. Your face softens at the thought, staring deeply into his brown eyes. The two of you stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity before Enzo started moving off you. 'I'm gonna shower but I'll be quick' he smiles while walking around the room, grabbing his things.

The bathroom door clicks shut and the water turns on; you're left alone with your thoughts. Why were you even going on this date? Do you even like Oliver? He's a nice guy but... but he isn't Enzo. Noticing the time, you scramble to your feet, calling out to the Slytherin boy, 'Enz, I have to go, my date is in an hour. I'll come see you later.' you say, moving towards the door.

Rough hands grip your wrist, tugging you backwards into a hard chest. Enzo's hands find your hips, turning you around and backing you against the door. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, water dripping from his hair onto his toned body and a towel hanging dangerously low on his waist. You scan the sight before you and your knees almost buckle. Rage emitted from him and his eyes darkened. 'Don't you dare leave' he growled. You had never seen him like this and it only made you swoon more.

'I'm the only one who should take you out.' he admits, his fierce tone still shining through his words. 'What do you mean?' you ask hesitantly, not wanting to face disappointment. His beautiful smile turns into a smirk and he leans into you even more, 'How about I show you?'

Enzo's lips crash against yours and you waste no time tangling your hands in his wet hair. His grip remains firmly on your hips, one of his hands trailing up to meet your cheek lovingly. He pulls away breathlessly, his chest heaving, 'Was that good enough?'

You don't respond, instead pushing your lips together again with more passion. Your hand goes down his chest feeling his athletic body, desperately needing to feel more of him. Your other hand remains in his hair; a simple tug elicits a low groan from him and he kisses you harder. Enzo moves you away from the door and hoists you up, his grip moving to the back of your thighs as you wrap them around him. His plush lips trail down your jaw and he starts nipping at your neck. Your back meets his bed and he crawls on top of you; the familiarity of the position makes your head buzz. Enzo continues leaving marks along your neck before pulling away and looking at you.

'This isn't gonna be a one-time thing is it?' he asks, his lips swollen and eyes filled with desire. His hand traces circles on your thigh awaiting your answer. You reach a hand up to his face, taking him in, 'No, Enz, I want you, all of you and only you.' A sign of relief escapes him and he ducks back down kissing you softly, 'Let me show you I feel the same.'

Dinner arrives and you stumble into the hall, Enzo trailing behind you with your pinkies linked. You sit at your usual table and see the rest of the group looking at your dishevelled frame. 'Good date?' Blaise teases, taking note of the hickeys that littered your neck. 'You could say that,' you admitted, 'Wasn't with Oliver though.'

'You owe me ten galleons!' Mattheo screamed at Pansy, 'I knew they'd get together!' She reluctantly hands him the money and turns to you, 'So you and Enzo?' Heat rushes to your cheeks as you recall what happened earlier. 'Thank god it happened, he wouldn't shut up about you!' Blaise complains. You attempt to hide a smile as you interlace your hands with Enzo's.

'I'm glad it happened too.'

[fuji-sen]

Hello I was wondering if you could write some scenarios for some hsr men, if you've ever watched Inuyasha and seen Kagome telling him to sit I was imagining that the reader could do that too, I don't really have any specific characters in mind but if you could please include Boothill because ngl that'd be insanely funny, if you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight ☺️

HONKAI STAR RAIL ; "Sit down!" Headcanon.

credit: from pinterest, Sorry this was criminally and unfashionably late!

synopsis; x reader headcanons and scenarios. Based on the request above. characters: Boothill, ft. Herta, Trailblazer, Asta. (longer than the rest since this was the one mainly requested, whipped Boothill.) Argenti, ft. boothill (slight jealousy from reader. third wheeling Boothill.) Jing Yuan, ft. Yanqing (Yanqing being like you and Jing Yuan's son, mentions of Yunli, post Wardance trailblaze continuance quest.)

🦈 It was just your average day in the Herta Space Station, sure there were explosions from tests and experiments, as well as the constant frolicking of the creations left by one of the genius members that resembled numerous real life characters, but those were all the normal.

🦈 well I lied, today wasn't 100% normal. Not with a very much wanted space cowboy swearing up a storm, was it swearing? considering the numerous censorship bugs programmed into him?

🦈 "I swear to fudge, something is definitely mother-fudging wrong with me!" the said top most wanted guy by the IPC expressed.

🦈 Herta, or one of her puppets looked at him with a frown and almost indifferent expression. She scoffed, offended at the suggestion that her check-up missed something. "The only thing wrong with you is your language module. I did not see any other bugs on you that explained your interesting circumstances."

🦈 "Then you're wrong little missy! how else can we explain this!" he waved his arms which did nothing to helped the trailblazer who had returned to Herta's lab having finished their Divergent Universe farming.

🦈 #83 of the genius society ignored the metal cowboy, "Trailblazer, how dare you bring him here?"

🦈 The trailblazer had simply organized a discreet meeting with the wanted Galaxy Ranger and someone who could help with his so called problem.

🦈 "Hey! I was just the messenger here, I don't even know what's happening." The gray haired trailblazer raised their hands up in defense.

🦈 "I guess i should tell you, but I swear if you tell anybody" Boothill ended up making a heart with his hands, (he was planning to do the neck slitting gesture) ". . . don't fudging point it out."

🦈 "fine, call Asta or whoever for another perspective." Herta sighed, waving her hand dismissively at the duo.

🦈 and so Boothill became to recount what had happened that caused him to ask for this meeting with, in his words 'motherfucking sons of a nice lady geniuses'

"Good" and you smiled. And like a well trained dog or a well made clock, he moved as instructed. Body turning quickly and making quick strides as he sat down on the seat in front of you."I swear you muddle-fudger, I'll make you choke on your own shirtballs if you don't walk away right now!" Your partner was practically barring his teeth at the guy who decided to make an unwanted comment towards you. The two of you were in one of the few areas he could stay at without the IPC coming to hound him, at least not as quick. It was a bar really, shady as it was, it was decent compared to the other places you went with the ranger. The poor man was shaking at his knees like a newborn deer. He'd probably pee on the spot by now which made you feel sorry. "Boothill." "Hold on sweetie," the black and white haired male said, stepping closer and closer to the frozen male "let me just deal with this son of a really really nice lady." Any other day you'd have root him considering the man did deserve it, but time was precious with a wanted man like him and you wanted to spend it by eating and chatting rather than watched him terrorized some bigot. "Boothill." "Patience Sweetie." his hand was hovering above his gun, his precious and most trusted ally. Other than you of course. "Let me just. ." "Boothill, sit down." you sighed, fingers tapping on the table.

🦈 "See! I bet one of those fudging IPC shirtballs messed with my synthesia beacon again!"

🦈 the ranger was met with silence, the trailblazer looking at him with disgust (jealousy and disgust at being third wheel with just a story), the pink haired chick feeling embarrassed and Herta looking extremely disappointed, like she was looking at someone stupid.

"er..." The trailblaizer coughed, looking away.

Herta had straight up turned around and left the lab.

Asta then helpfully suggested "I think you're just whipped for [name]."

🦈 Boothill then just kinda accepts that you have a strong hold on him, he had been worried it was honestly because of someone tampering with his synthesia beacon again but now knowing it was all because of you, and his feelings for you, he's accepted it, and even flaunt it sometimes.

🦈 of course at the start he'd be pouty if you do it in front of his enemies. "C'mon sweetie, you gotta stop doing that in front of those fudgers! I have a reputation to uphold"

🦈 but he then kinda remembers, he can just kill anyone who gives him crap about it. Plus he loves flexing that he, a very much dangerous and wanted man, is in a very healthy and committed relationship that his enemies could only dream of.

🦈 like saying,, "the only one who can boss me around like that is [name]! not some fudging shirtball!"

🌹 being with Argenti, is sometimes like babysitting a kid. Argenti is a knight of beauty, a devoted follower of Idrila. Perhaps it was the way of the knight, or simply being himself. But he was and is always an admirer of beauty.

🌹 the rose colored haired knight would often become distracted when something beautiful catches his eyes, be it a plant, or a sign, a particular poster or a person, you'd often find him no longer by your side on days you'd decide to walk around or travel together.

🌹 often times you find it amusing, humoring him as you listened to his rambles. sometimes a part of you couldn't help but be saddened or disappointed at how easily he could pull away from you.

🌹 the two of you found yourself in Penacony. Penacony was crafted and built to be a dreamland for most, due to the hardwork of the creators and the dreamweavers, it was no doubt beautiful. Like a bustling city filled with dreams and creativity.

🌹 your partner seemed to agree as his eyes glanced at every other direction but you.

🌹 "he's like a kid on a fudging sugar rush." Boothill who you had bumped into had joined you, watching how your partner seemed to be currently drawn in by some origami birds who were soaking up his compliments.

🌹 "I know" your short response had a salty tone that was beginning to build up, one that the ranger could easily pick up on. "Woah there lady, I'm sensing some aggression."

🌹 you glared at him, not appreciating his teases as he grinned, showing off his sharp teeth.

🌹 his eyes glanced at Argenti once again, "you want that knight's attention right?" you didn't have to answer because he knew, so he gestured for you to sit down at the nearby cafe "why don't you tell him to sit down."

🌹"he's in one of his admiring beauty moods, I don't wanna bother him." you said, taking a menu from the waiter, Boothill remained standing, "Trust me, that knight's going to sit down as soon as you tell him too."

🌹you looked at him skeptically, "nothing hurts with trying." he shrugged. Sighing, you decided he was right as you turned to Argenti, calling him with a wave of an arm.

🌹"Yes beloved?" he asked turning away from the origami birds that fluttered off, perhaps returning to their nests amongst the others.

🌹You gestured to the seat beside you, "why don't you sit down?" "Of course!" You blinked, he had disappeared from sight, and you only turned, hearing the sound of a chair being pulled up.

🌹Argenti had taken the seat you had gestured to with speed rivalling that of the hunt. "Is there anything you want love?" he asked, eyes finally gazing upon you.

🌹your cheeks begin to flush a rosy pink, as you smiled.

bloopers another chair had been pulled back, as feet were put up the table. "Now how about we start ordering, I'm famished." "Oh you don't say?" your smile twitched as Boothill flashed you a grin. Of course he'd third wheel you and your dear partner.

⚡being one of the generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, there were very few who could probably order Jing Yuan around on the Luofu. Those he was familiar with could, or those who were more serious like Master Diviner Fu Xuan made a few comments or suggestions time to time that the Arbiter-General followed.

⚡ Still, for Yanqing, it was hard to imagine someone being able to make the dozing General do something. Well until now that is,

⚡When even the advisors or the Master Diviner failed or gave up in, there you were, easily making the General do something with a surge of energy never seen before, only with a few words.

⚡ Now, the young boy was trying to find his master, his teacher, who seemed to have escaped his office to do something else. Perhaps doze off or sleep, or even play chess with the other natives.

⚡ next thing he knew, he had come across you and Jing Yuan on the way back. "Please finish your work." you'd said and he'd sit down and finish all of the paperwork for that day, he'd rarely slouch or doze off as his usual sleepy and relaxed looking eyes look sharp as if he was staring at a prey.

⚡ that was a few days ago, now Jing Yuan was now training Yanqing, it was probably reaching dark soon but the both showed no signs of stopping. The younger of the duo felt like his knees were ready to give in, but he persisted as he gripped his sword tighter.

⚡ "Boys come sit down! I prepared some snacks!" and then you arrived, with trays of food and drinks you balanced with ease. "Just a min-" "Alright dear." Jing Yuan smiled softly, lowering his weapon and the lightning lord disappearing.

⚡ "Come on Yanqing," he offered his hand to the younger boy, and he took it. Both of their hands were sweaty and covered in callouses but they didn't mind as the duo walked towards you.

⚡ "it's good that I came. It looks like Yanqing's about to collapse." You'd say, bringing out a handkerchief as you began to wipe the dirt away from the younger boy's face.

⚡ "I could handle it!" he pouted.

⚡ Chuckling you kissed his forehead "sure you can, but at least have some snacks, You two missed dinner." "Thank you my dear," The general came and placed kisses all over your face.

⚡ "Of course, anything for my two boys. Now sit down and eat." you chided and Yanqing watched as his mentor took a seat on the plush cushion you had also prepared.

⚡ You'd soon leave, thinking that the food wasn't enough and promising to bring more, their favorites. Yanqing then asked, "Master, why do you listen to her? you know you don't have to."

⚡ "I know." Jing yuan took a sip of the tea you had prepared, perfect as always. "I want to."

⚡ Yanqing was confused, "why?" he curiously asked. "I understand in the domestic setting, but even in work she tells you what to do, and you do it. But your the general of the luofu. ."

⚡ The General wasn't offended or upset by his questions, if anything he seemed amused and delighted he had asked as he began to answer in a soft tone, softer than his usual tone that he'd use every day.

⚡ "It is because I don't have to, that I do. My feelings for [ name ] are sincere and passionate. Even if I have the higher position than her, or even if I was stronger. I listen to her because she is my equal. She is the person whom holds the most power over me."

⚡ Still Yanqing seemed confused. Unable to quickly process his answer. And then you had came, and he decided to not press on. Thinking it was rude to ask in front of you.

⚡ "Perhaps in the future you'll find that someone, and then you'll understand."

⚡ "someone?" you curiously looked at the two of them, but as Jing Yuan shook his head, you decided it was better not to ask. "Ah by the way, I received word from the advisors, it seems like Yunli is going to participate in upcoming war dance."

⚡ "really?" Yanqing looked up, asking while his mouth was full of food.

⚡ 'perhaps he had already found that someone', Jing Yuan shared a knowing look with you.

credits: @enchanthings

It was hard to think of other characters that worked well with this idea. Boothill was kinda funny, but I think theres an underlying trauma or like worry of someone tampering with his syntesia beacon again without permission.

Argenti, he's a gentleman but I kinda think with how he's an admirer of beauty I think he'd really be like a kid with an attention span of one that you'd have to call him over a couple of times to get him to focus.

Meanwhile Jing Yuan kinda strayed far from the idea with Inuyasha and Kagome since Jing Yuan is known as the dozing general, it'd be more rare to find him out of the chair or somewhere since he's usually lounging.

So really, Boothill was the most accurate to the request, then it goes farther away from Argenti and Jing Yuan HAHAHAH Still I hope Anonymous is pleased with this.

[yamumsyadadd]

mariquita

“Y/n? I want to introduce you to some people. This is Alexia and this is Jenni. They have adopted you and will be taking you home in a few days. Does that sound good?” 

“Home?” 

“Yeah, Pequeño, home with us.” The tall dark haired one spoke. She had a nice smile, calm, safe. The other one looked how you felt uncomfortable, anxious, wishing the world would swallow you whole. 

Over the next few days, Jenni and Alexia had more visits to the group home, eventually taking you home to your new home. It was an apartment, near the beach. It was light and airy, clean and tidy, but not lacking warmth, photos of them on the walls, other people, people you could only assume was their family. 

“Do you want to see your room cari?” You nodded shyly, following their lead up the hallway. 

“This is the bathroom” pointing to a door on the left, “this one is the laundry, you won’t need to worry about that though.” Oh but you would. How else would you have clean clothes?

“That one at the end of the hall is mine and Jenni’s room. You can come in at anytime okay? This, this is your room.” 

It was big. A big bed in the corner of the room with clean, soft bedding. A bookcase in the other corner, a toy box and a desk. 

“All by myself?”

“What?”

“I sleep by myself?” 

“Yes cari. This room” Jenni motions around, “this is all for you. We will need to go shopping and buy some clothes for you. We can buy you more toys or books. Whatever you want.” 

“No thank you. I have my bag.” A sad look was shared between the two adults while you walked around   Observing but never actually touching anything. 

“Do you want to watch TV? Jenni is going to make dinner. We can watch TV or play? Whatever you want.”

“I can help clean? I’m good at that. You can show me where everything is and I’ll clean.” 

“No y/n. You don’t need to do anything like that here. We are the adults, you’re a child. You get to be a child here okay?” 

You didn’t believe a word coming out of Alexia’s mouth. Adults say things like that all the time but then change their mind, it would only be a matter of time before they did. 

Secretly, you took note of where everything went. Where the dishwasher tablets were, the laundry detergent, the mop and vacuum. You were sure going to clean up whatever mess you made. A child is to be seen and not heard right? 

That’s exactly what you did, after every shower, after every meal, after reading or playing the next thing you would do is clean up. You kept everything exactly where it was when you came so neither Jenni or Alexia would get mad. 

—————————————————————————

When they took you to training for the first time it was very overwhelming. Jenni was excited, alexia was more cautious. You were much like alexia, shy, introverted and uncomfortable in big crowds. 

“Amor, stop. She looks scared, just let her calm down a little?” Alexia pulled Jenni aside after trying to introduce yet another teammate to you. The way you picked your fingers and your eyes were wide with fear, she could tell you were uncomfortable. 

It didn’t get any better over the next few weeks and ultimately they both decided it would be better if Alexia’s mami looked after you. That was horrible. The entire time you were there you cried, afraid they wouldn’t come back for you, so much so that you made yourself sick and Eli called them to come back. 

“Hey, hey, Cari. It’s okay. Jenni and I are here.” The scene they walked into broke their heart. You were sat in a corner, rocking yourself back and forth covered in your own sick. Alexia didn’t care, she pulled you into her arms, rocking yourself side to side. 

“She thought you left her, for good.” Eli spoke up, rubbing a hand up and down alexia’s back as she soothed you. 

—————————————————————————

The next few months went the same, while you came out of your shell at home and around a few of the girls, as soon as it was a bigger crowd you retreated. Climbing into either alexia’s lap or Jenni’s and shoving your head up their shirts. Not once did that complain even though you were stretching out their shirts. 

Slowly though, the family that was built started getting ripped apart. Alexia and Jenni tried hard not to fight in front of you but you could hear them when you were up late at night cleaning your room and secretly reading. 

“They fight a lot.” You said to no one in particular as you licked your ice cream. 

Leila and Mapi shared a look over your head, “who do pequeño?” 

“Mami and mama. They think I’m sleeping but I’m not. I hear them. I bet they are fighting right now and that’s why you took me for ice cream before dinner. That’s not allowed.” A silent pause happened before you spoke up again, “Ice cream is bad for adults, mami says you have to run extra when mama eats it.” 

They both realised how perceptive you were. You were quiet, but even at the age of six you knew when things were wrong and boy were they wrong. 

Mami and mama kept fighting and you kept getting sent with Tia Alba or Abuela but on the extra bad days it was Leila and Mapi. Leila and Mapi were the best, always giving you ice cream, buying you the colourful cold drinks and the little toys from the arcade but it added to your mami and mamas fights. 

“You’re not taking her with you Jennifer! Her whole life is here!” 

“Then what do you want me to do? Abandon her with you?” Their fight had been going for a long time, you were supposed to be in your room playing with the new barbies that Mapi got but the yelling was being too loud that you couldn’t think about it anymore. So there you were, sat in the hallway listening to them fight. 

When they finally stopped was when they noticed you, hands over your ears and tears streaming down your face, Alexia all but ran to you, scooping you up and laying you in bed. She stayed with you all night, and many more nights after that. 

From that day on they weren’t fighting with you there, but you knew they were still fighting. When Leila came and got you from the crèche that the club set up for you, you knew something was very wrong. Leila’s face was red, like yours after you cried. 

“What’s wrong lele?” You cupped her face as she bent down to hug you. 

“Nothing princesa. Let’s get some ice cream yeah?” You nodded excitedly, waving goodbye to the carers and pulling Leila out of the room. 

It took a few weeks to find out what the problem was. Your mami was crying a lot and sleeping in bed with you instead of with mama. You overheard some of the bigger girls talking, “Jenni’s going to Paris.” You knew who Jenni was, obviously, your mama but you didn’t know what Paris was. 

So when you got home that night, naturally you asked but that caused yet another argument. 

“Mami didn’t tell me! Don’t yell at her no more! It was pats who said it but she didn’t know I was there cause I wasn’t supposed to be.” You stood up on your chair at the dinner table, trying to make them stop fighting. 

“Cari, sit down.” Alexia motioned for you to sit but you crossed your arms and frowned. 

“Stop fighting and I will.”  

“Fine.” So you sat. Arms still crossed and glaring at your mami. 

“pequeño, I am going to Paris, but I won’t be gone forever.” 

“Just for a sleepover?”

“No pequeño, for a little longer than a sleepover. You know how mami and mama play for Barça?” You nod, of course you knew that. “Well, I’m going to go play for a club in Paris, like Barça.” 

“Are they better than Barça?” You heard your mami scoff. 

“No, maybe with my help they will be.” 

“Are you going to get a new mami and new me?”

“No! Never pequeño. No one can replace you or mami. And I’ll come visit, and mami will bring you to me whenever we can. Okay?” 

“No.” 

“No?” Jenni shared a look with Alexia. Unsure how to proceed. 

“You’re going to a new place, a new team with new lele and Mapi and-and that means a new me and mami.” You pushed your plate as hard as you could, watching it slide off the other side of the table and then you ran as fast as your little legs could take you. Climbing into the box in your wardrobe to hide. 

“Cariño?” Your mamis voice was loud. She knew your favourite hiding spot and that you’d be in there now. “Mi vida. Can you come out please?” 

A tiny “No” was heard, muffled by the extra blankets that were kept in that box. 

“I need to talk to you but I can’t do it when you’re hiding.” Slowly you came out, not fully removing yourself from the box, just your head. 

“Mama isn’t going to replace you okay? There is only one y/n Hermoso-Putellas and that’s you.” 

“But-“

“No buts bebé. Mama is feeling a little upset, do you think you can go talk to her? Cheer her up?”

You got out quickly, leaving behind a trail of blankets and one of your socks, barreling into your mama and apologising over and over again. 

—————————————————————————

That’s how the next year went, you’d go every few weeks with Tia Alba to Paris or mama would come visit you, but she never slept in her bed with mami and they never talked about anything but you. Abuela said it was because mami and mama weren’t together anymore but they still loved you all the same. 

Then mama came back to Spain but not back to you or mami. It made you both sad. Because you started big school, you barely got to see mama and that made you have a lot of big feelings. 

You made mami cry a lot because you weren’t very nice to her and Abuela said it hurt her feelings but no one ever asked about your feelings. Lola asked though, after you ran away from mami she caught you like she catches the balls. 

“Mi Princesa, what are you doing running away from your mami like that?” Her spare hand coming to tickle your stomach. 

“I don’t like her!” 

“Woah that’s not a nice thing to say, is it?” You shook your head and frowned. “Wanna tell me why?” 

“She made mama leave. Mama leaved me and mami and now she won’t come home. They are supposed to kiss like used to but they won’t no more.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia and Jenni were both behind you, listening to everything you said. 

“No bebé! No, Mami didn’t make me leave. I promise. Mami and I love each other still but in a different way.” 

“Not Like tia alba and Mapi? More like me and lele?” You asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes, just like that. Wait alba and Mapi?” 

“They was kissing each other like you and mami used to when we got ice cream.” 

Lola put you down, realising that you’d just shared a very big secret that Alexia now needed to go deal with. They agreed you would spend the night at the hotel with Jenni before she left again the following morning. 

Mami, Tia Alba and Abuela had a fake Christmas to celebrate with you since you were going to Madrid to be with mama and her family. Madrid was a long way away, Mami said it equaled 3 naps in the car or 1 nap on the plane. 

Mamas family was very loud. Almost too loud but mama made sure that you weren’t overwhelmed. You got lots of presents, even ones from Mami even though she gave you some already. There was a lot of food and a lot of singing. Everyone was very happy, and you happily fell asleep curled up in your Abuelos lap in front of the fire. 

—————————————————————————

It was a random Wednesday when mama picked you up from school. You were excited, but also confused. If she picked you up it was on a Friday and that was rare. 

“Where’s Mami?” 

“Oh I see how it is. You’re gotten too big for me huh?” 

“Don’t be silly mama. Mami usually gets me on wednesdays.” 

“Well Pequeño, I have a surprise for you!” 

You felt all giddy inside, you were just a kid after all and surprises were fun. She loaded you into the car and drove until you reached a building that looked like the one you and mami lived in. 

“This is my new apartment bebé, yours too. You’ll have your own room like at mamis and I’ll be right across from you.” 

“But you live in Madrid?” 

Jenni got down on her knees, “I’m moving back here. To be with you” she bumped your nose with her finger, pulling you into her, “and I’ll be playing at Barça again so we need to get you a New Jersey.”

“You and mami will kiss again! That was my birthday wish and it came true!” The smile on Jenni’s face was immediately wiped off. She didn’t have the heart to break it to you, so she let you continue on rambling about how Nala and you would have so much fun here and mami would love it too. 

The first night you stayed at mamas new apartment you cried and cried until you passed out in her bed. You didn’t understand why Mami and Nala weren’t coming and why Mami didn’t kiss mama goodbye like the past times. 

Alexia’s heart broke into even more pieces when Jenni sent her a photo of you curled up on her chest, your hand gripping her shirt for dear life and the obvious wet patches. Going through a break up was hard at the best of times, but adding a child who didn’t understand into the mix? Worse. Every time you asked if your mama could pick you up from school or come to your little kickers game, she had to explain again that Jenni couldn’t. 

—————————————————————————

The next three years continue on as the others. You’re getting better at school and football, much to Mapi and lele delight you love being a defender. The one thing that confuses you though is sometimes your Mami and mama kiss and then sometimes they don’t even look at each other. Abuela says they are silly and tia alba says bad words. 

You don’t cope well much with new people, that was proven when Tia Alba bought a new girl to Sunday dinners and when she tried to kiss Alba, you threw a shoe at her. 

“Oye, y/n that’s not nice. You do not throw things at people.” Your Mami had grabbed your arms, stopping you from running away. 

“No! She’s being mean to Mapi. She’s only allowed to kiss Mapi like you are only allowed to kiss Mami!” 

“Pequeño-“ 

“Let go of me! Mami said no kissing anyone else but her! Tia Alba is the same! Only Mapi and Mami!” You finally got out of her grasp enough to push her over, running upstairs to Abuelas room and climbing under the bed. 

“Let me Ale.” Alba gave her sister a sympathetic smile before turning to follow you. “Pequeño?” Silence. “Pequeñoooooo? Come here Mariquita.” She grabbed your ankle and pulled you out. You were both sporting matching pouts. 

“Mapi will be sad. You can’t do that to Mapi!” 

“Mi vida, who told you I can only kiss Mapi?” 

“Mama.” You crossed your arms and stamped your foot, “mama is always right.” 

“What else did your mama say hm?” 

“That Mami isn’t allowed to kiss anyone else but her.” 

“Is your mama allowed to kiss others?” 

“Yes. She has a special friend. I don’t like her though because whenever she comes I have to go to my room and Andy barks at her.” 

“Does your Mami know?” 

“No mama said that only she’s allowed to have special friends and Mami isn’t.” 

“Right. Well, Mapi and I were special friends, but we aren’t anymore. You know Ana who plays with Mami and mama?” You nod your head, you do know Ana. She’s very tall and blonde, she helps you tie lele’s laces together too. “She’s mapis special friend now and Judith is mine. I really like Judith and I want you to like her too.” 

“You like her more than me?” 

“No. There’s no one I’d ever like more than you Mariquita.” Alba started leaving sloppy kisses all over your face before carrying you downstairs to you Mami. You had to apologise to Judith and give her a hug but then she agreed to play with you so you were happy. 

You didn’t notice the conversation between Tia Alba, Abuela and Mami. Maybe that’s because Judith was playing farms wrong and you had to keep correcting her and but you didn’t miss the tears in your mamis eyes when she came to take you home. 

The fighting started again after that and you never saw your mamas special friend again. The fighting didn’t just happen when Mami picked you up but at training too. When you were playing hide and seek with Pina and Cata, you heard your Mami crying to Mapi. 

You wanted to go see but if you went Pina and Cata would find you and you’d lose. So you stayed and listened. 

“Mariquita told alba that Jenni has a special friend and that I’m not allowed to kiss anyone but her. She’s fucking with the girls head Mapi!” 

“Ale, she’s 7, maybe she heard wrong.” 

“She didn’t. I spoke to Jenni, she said she was seeing someone but she was supposed to be seeing me only! That was the conversation we had, she promised me that she wouldn’t see other people.” 

Your mama had lied and made your Mami sad. All of your trusted adults said that lying was bad and making someone sad wasn’t nice. So the only logical conclusion was that your mama was a big meanie. You made sure to tell her that when she tried to take you home after training. Screaming bloody murder and kicking and biting her until she let go. 

Your Mami was the last to you as a crowd of teammates had began to form. 

“Don’t make me go with her Mami. Please Mami. She’s mean! I wanna go home with you and Nala. Please Mami.” You begged as you cried into her arms. Alexia looked at Jenni with wide eyes before comforting you. 

Mami did take you home with her that night and bribed you with ice cream so you’d tell her what happened. 

“Mama made you sad and she lied. That is mean. Mama is mean.” 

“Mariquita, where did you hear that?” 

“I heard you and Mapi. I was hiding in the laundry basket from Cata and Pina because we were playing and you were crying. I wanted to hug you but I didn’t want to lose so I stayed hiding.” You shrugged nonchalantly as you continued to shovel ice cream into your mouth. 

Alexia realised then that they were both fucking with your head. You weren’t really a talker, but you were a listener. You caught everything and knew everyone’s secrets. Expect you didn’t know what a secret was so you just shared your new information with whoever was closest. 

—————————————————————————

When Barça lost to Lyon in the champions league final, all you could do was cry. Both your Mami and mama were crying, so was Mapi, lele and pats. Somehow you managed to be standing freely away from Tia Alba and Tia Miriam. 

The barricade wasn’t that high. All you had to do was stand on the seat and jump. Mami was still laying on the floor crying and she always said that your hugs made her tears go away. So you did what you thought was right and jumped over. 

You ran as fast as you could, which for a 7 year old was pretty fast, hurling yourself at your mamis body on the floor. 

“Mari?” She sat up slightly, noticing the security guards and waving them off, “what are you doing down here? Where’s Alba?” 

“You were crying. When you cry at home, I hug you then you stop crying. Please don’t cry Mami.” You tried to wipe her tears but they just kept coming and she squeezed you tighter. 

Eventually you both got up and went around hugging the other girls and your mama. Even though you were mad at your mama, she still needed your hugs too. 

When the tall blonde lady from the other team came to talk to Mami, you made sure to stick your tongue out at her when she said hello. 

“Mari, you need to be nice to Ada please.” 

“No, she made you cry.” 

“I didn’t mean to make your mum cry, I promise.” 

“Did you say sorry? Mami says you need to say sorry even if it’s an accident.” 

“I did, I even gave her a hug.” 

“Well I didn’t hear it so say it again.” Both adults laughed at you, Ada saying something about how you were just like Alexia. Obviously, she was your Mami. 

—————————————————————————

You were supposed to be in England when your Mami broke her knee. She was very cranky for a long time and everyone was scared of her. Not you though. You got new toys out of it and new books. But there was a new person around, mamis friend Olga. She didn’t play how you liked so whenever she came over you went to your room. 

Alexia, in her depression didn’t notice it. Abuela did though. She saw how you retreated more. How you didn’t want to play football, or talk to your mama on the phone. You just hide away in your room, old habits dying hard of cleaning. It was something both Jenni and alexia had worked hard to get you out of the habit of doing. You didn’t need to clean the bathrooms, or was your laundry. That was their job, but Mami couldn’t do any of her jobs anymore so you did. 

A loud smashing noise woke you from your nap. It was summer break and you’d spent all morning at the beach with Alba and Judith so you were tired. 

“You’re not taking my fucking daughter Jennifer! Over my dead body.”

“She’s our daughter alexia. And it wouldn’t be forever. Just until you can look after yourself and her because god knows you can’t!” The fighting was back. Something you’d gotten for 8th birthday was a phone. It only had a few numbers in it but the only one you needed was abuelas. She answered very quickly and you were able to give her a run down of what was happening. When she said she was on her way, you snuck out of the apartment, taking Nala with you and heading down to the front foyer to wait. 

It was very long before she arrived, running through the doors and barely stopping to notice you sitting there. 

“Mi vida! What’s happening?” 

“Dunno. I was sleepin’ then Mami started swearing and mama said she was taking me away.” 

“Alba, take her to the car. Now.” Abuelas voice was scary, the type she used to yell at Mami and alba when they were fighting or when Nala chewed her tv remote. 

Eli could hear the yelling from the hallway, using her key to let herself in. 

“I don’t fucking care Alexia! She’s not staying here. You’re a pathetic excuse of a mother right now!”

“ENOUGH!” Both women turned in shock to see Eli standing there, face full of fury. “Your daughter rang me because you were both screaming at each other. She was scared and wanted to leave. I bet neither of you noticed that she left!” 

“No eli. She’s in her room.”

“She’s in my car Jennifer. She packed a bag and took Nala downstairs and waited. Alba put her in the car. Neither of you deserve that little girl. All you two do is fight and treat each other like shit. In front of her! What kind of example are you setting?” 

“Mami-“

“No Alexia. I’m not done. Jennifer, you will not move that child to the other side of the world. Her football is here, her school and her friends that she worked so hard to make. You’re here often enough that you will see her and I will bring her on holidays. Alexia, pull your shit together. She relies on you not the other way around. She will stay at my house for now, Nala too. When you’re ready to be grown ups, you know where to find her.” 

It didn’t take long for mama to come but it was to say she was leaving and you wouldn’t be coming with her. She explained that she’d be going to Mexico, you understood geography a lot better now since you had just turned 8. She was going far away, further than ever before and leaving you behind yet again. 

Something changed that day, it wasn’t the first time you had been left behind but this was your mama. The person who was supposed to stay with you and love you. 

Towards the end of 2022, alexia was finally running again. Rehab was going as planned and you were continuing to do well in school. She had planned to take you, Tia Alba and Abuela to the Maldives for Christmas. It was supposed to be a fun time. Just the four of you. Nala couldn’t come but she was excited when she got dropped off at Pats house.  

When you came back school had started again, Mami had promised everyday she’d be the one to pick you up from school and she was. Until a stranger came. She wasn’t completely a stranger, she was mami’s friend but you didn’t know her. Your refusal to go home with her caused a scene and Abuela ended up getting called. 

Your Mami and mama had taught you a lot of important things, like when someone was sad you gave them a hug, never take food from a stranger and never ever go with a stranger. Only a trusted adult and Olga was not a trusted adult. All the trusted adults knew the safe word, it was the word they’d say and you knew Mami or mama sent them but she didn’t. 

“Mari, what happened at school today?” Mami asked while watching tv on the couch. 

“I did some maths, made a volcano explode. A stranger tried to take me. Oh! And I played on the monkey bars with Isabel then she braided my hair!” 

“A STRANGER WHAT!” She jolted you around. 

“Yeah at pick up. You didn’t come and she said you were friends but she didn’t know the safe word so I ran back inside and made them call Abuela.” It was silent for a few moments before it clicked. Alexia was stuck doing an interview and had asked Olga to pick you up, completely forgetting to tell her about the safe word. 

“Olga came, yes?” You nodded, “you know Olga. You’ve met Olga before?” 

“Just because I’ve met her doesn’t mean I know her Mami. What if the mean Real Madrid girls took me from school? I’ve met them but I don’t know them. Plus she didn’t know the safe word and trusted adults know the safe word.” 

“You’re right Mari. How about this weekend we go to the beach and you can really know Olga? We can take Nala and have a nice lunch.” You thought it over for a moment, you did like the beach and you liked most of mamis other friends, expect the Real Madrid goalie. You did not like her at all. After much consideration you nodded your head. Mami pulled you back into her lap and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night. 

Meeting new people wasn’t easy. You got Mami and mama when you were three but now you were eight. During those five years you’d met so many new people, some were good and some not so good. There was always something subconsciously that made you freak out, especially when it was in a foreign place. 

“Hola y/n. I’m Olga.” She squatted down so she was a little smaller than you. Instead of responding you just hid behind your Mami. 

“she gets a bit nervous around new people. Mariquita? Can you please say hi?” Alexia felt you shake your head from behind her, she let out a sigh but continued on. 

They both tried to include you in conversation but you only ever stared at Olga. Mami had a lot of friends, none of them quite like her. She was what Abuela would describe as a espíritu libre. Almost the opposite of Mami. 

“Are you and my Mami having sex?” Both adults chocked on their food. 

“Mari!”

“What? I asked it in a polite way no?” 

“Where did you learn that?” 

“You’re deflecting. Abuela says you and Tia alba do that when you don’t want to answer.” Olga just watched as you both stared each other down. 

“Do you know what sex is?” Olga asked, she didn’t mean to ask it out loud so she was just as shocked as alexia was when the words came out. 

“Yes. I googled it. I’m not stupid you know.” 

“What do you mean you googled it?” 

“I don’t understand what you aren’t understanding Mami? I am speaking the same language!” 

“You’re eight. You shouldn’t be googling things like that! Where did you learn the word?” 

“Mapi.” 

“Of course. Please explain how you and Maria got on the conversation of sex.” 

“She was talking to Ingrid and I was hiding in the locker room because Ana was gonna get me and she said to Ingrid ‘should we have our post win sex early”. You mocked the way Mapi spoke, earning a laugh from Olga who only got a glare from your Mami. 

“I’m going to kill her.” 

After lunch Olga let. Instead of Mami driving home, she drove straight to Mapis apartment and basically smashed the door down. You got a front row seat to the chewing out the Spaniard got. Her face red in embarrassment. To you, it was very funny but to Mami and Mapi, it was not. 

—————————————————————————

On the 30th of April, the time finally came for your Mami to return playing. She was back in training a few weeks earlier which meant you were spending more time with Abuela after school. 

When Mami got subbed on the crowd went wild. Everyone was standing and clapping. Abuela, Tia Alba and Olga were all crying and when you asked why, Tia alba explained they were happy tears. It didn’t really make much sense to you, you understood she was hurt and couldn’t play for a while but you didn’t understand the significance that your Mami held to the club or to women’s football in general. 

FC Barcelona won the champions league that year. This was the first time you truly understood what it meant. They were the best time in Europe. Mamis important Ibiza holidays always included you, but this year they wouldn’t. Mama was back and you’d be going on holiday with her before the World Cup. 

Mama took you back to Madrid, where you spent three weeks. Not once did you talk about Mami, or Tia alba but you did talk about Mexico and how mama really loved it there and wanted you to visit. Right before you flew back to Barcelona, mama gave you a special necklace. It was a love heart locket, on one side was a picture of you, Mami and mama when you were little and the other side was blank. 

“When we win the World Cup, there will be a picture of the three of us to go on the other side.” It was a promise. 

You celebrated your ninth birthday in Australia. Mami and mama were allowed to come celebrate with Tia Alba, Abuela and Olga. There was a weird feeling around the table but you didn’t care. You had most of your favourite people and Olga and that’s all you needed. 

[livi-in-digital-circus]

The Abuse || a short Bunnydoll angsty story

I wrote this only because I'm having worse days now (also I started writing the new fic but I'm already stuck at the beginning of TwT)

TW: abuse

Through the glass wall of the infirmary, Ragatha stared at the guests of the Digital Circus. Once in a while, people from the real world had the chance to meet their favorite characters in person, not knowing that they were actually normal humans just like them. It was unfair that they could go home the moment their visit ended. But that was what the circus was all about. Every single member of the crew was an animal trapped in a cage, released only to perform silly and often dangerous acts.

And since Caine was especially busy when they had visitors, Ragatha couldn’t ask him to help her get back to her pristine self. Instead, she had to spend the entire day under the care of a nurse-like NPC who stuffed her with more pills, like painkillers, hour after hour. Even though the rag doll didn’t seem to have any bones in her plush body, she felt like her bruised arm was broken. Not to mention that she had vomited at least three times that day and felt dizzy all the time.

It was a pure torture.

The girls in the main area were loud enough for Ragatha to hear what they were saying, so she leaned carefully against the wall. Due to her current state, she wasn’t allowed to greet the visitors. After all, Caine had to keep the reputation of the circus at its best, and if anyone found out there was a serious case of abuse going on behind the scenes, he would lose everything he had worked on for years.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m definitely his type!” One of the girls exclaimed. Her digital avatar resembled a cute Lolita-style doll, making her look like an innocent angel. Another one, Ragatha thought.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t mention our shrines full of his limited merch.” The other said, her cat ears and tail moving on their own from time to time. “But then again, who wouldn’t want lots of Jax for themselves?”

Ragatha trembled. These two clearly had no idea who they were talking about. Judging by their behavior and appearance, they were mostly underage and delusional. The rag doll looked at her arm again. She should be jealous, it was her boyfriend who was the center of attention that day.

Instead, she felt anger, especially when she heard the girls mention all the things they wanted Jax to do to them. Ragatha smiled bitterly to herself, the familiar metallic taste tickling her tongue. She had lived too long in the circus to understand today’s teenagers. Some of them were born into rich families and had everything they could wish for. It could be anything, like an expensive dress worn by many famous models, or a bottle of sweet-smelling limited edition perfume. And yet they chose to be used by none other than Jax.

Little do they know that he is a real abuser.

And abuse is not something you should wish for.

Year after year, the rabbit became more mentally unstable. Several times he promised Ragatha that he would change, that he would try to be a better boyfriend. She was very proud of Jax when he managed to go a whole week without hurting her. But when she was about to visit him in his room after one of their adventures to watch a movie, she found him torturing the little version of herself that she had made for him to hug when he felt alone.

Caine had no idea how to fix Jax. His first assumption was that he would soon abstract, but Ragatha quickly shook her head. That had been going on for a long time, with no clear signs of improvement. However, she didn’t feel any hatred for Jax, even though she was sore and bruised the last few days. She knew it was because of his poor mental health and that inside he was still the bunny she had fallen in love with.

The girls disappeared from her view after a while. Ragatha groaned as she made her way back to bed. All she wanted was to fall asleep and wake up the next day. The moment her head touched the pillow, she heard someone enter the infirmary.

“Feeling better?” Jax sat on the edge of the bed, his gloved hand gently stroking the bandage on the rag doll’s cheek. Ragatha shivered, yet her lover’s soothing touch was all she needed at the moment.

“Still a little sore, but it’s okay. Did you enjoy the meeting with the viewers?”

“Not really, this group was annoying as hell.”

“I don’t like what those girls said about you.” Though Ragatha didn’t want to tell him exactly what. She knew Jax felt bad after each time he lost control and hurt her, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable now that he was temporarily sane again.

Jax let out a soft laugh and pressed his lips to Ragatha’s forehead. God, she loved his kisses so much.

“I actually brought you something to drink. You must be thirsty after I… you know.”

Ragatha gladly accepted the water bottle and began to pour the liquid into her mouth. But just as she was about to stop, she felt Jax’s hands suddenly tighten around her neck, causing her to cough and choke. The taste of water and blood mixed sickeningly in her mouth.

Jax knew it was only a matter of time before she started vomiting all over the circus from the ‘water’ he gave her.

Everyone told Ragatha to break up with Jax, but she was too kindhearted to do that. He was mentally ill and she wanted to help him. She hoped that one day everything would be okay, that her boyfriend would overcome this.

And before that happens, she would be tortured in many more different ways for the next few weeks, months, or maybe even years.

Still, Ragatha would manage to survive all this. It was impossible to die in Digital Circus after all.

Thanks for reading!

(I'm sorry, please don't be mad at me for writing this ;-;)

[chris-prank]

I don’t know if you did this already but can you write out the characters favorite ways to show affection please?

Or maybe do one where they are confronted with their fears perhaps like, Atlas is found and is sent to be disassembled while their darling gets arrested for stealing, Vincent’s darling gets captured by a different evil doctor and gets accidentally turned into a zombie, someone new to the town saw Martin at a glance and freaks out, and maybe Esteban has a nightmare about bugs while his darling comforts him. lol just had ideas😁

Also your writing is as awesome as always and I hope you’re doing well!

-💚🐺

It's nice to see you again, green heart wolf anon! I hope you’re doing well too and thank you for your kind woooords! 😆❤️

I couldn’t pass the opportunity to do some hurt and comfort, so the way they show affection will have to wait for another time 😔

CW: Violence and mention of blood (in Atlas’s part), mention of insects (in Esteban’s part) and hurt comfort

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Atlas has never wished death upon someone as much he did in this instant, and that was saying a lot. They had dared to threaten you if he didn’t follow them without making a scene, and so he was now sitting in the back of a truck with special restraints that deactivated his arms. Apart from him there were three guards, with one driving the vehicle. Obviously, he ran in his program every scenario possible to get himself out of this mess, but it all ended up with him being either destroyed or deactivated. Atlas’s sulking was cut short as something hit them with full force.

The violent shock sent Atlas flying across the van. Unfazed by this, the android strategically positioned his body so it could hit the device placed on his back. It broke in pieces on impact, freeing him for good. Some of the men weren’t so lucky as he heard the distinctive sound of a broken neck and saw the chauffeur hit his head so hard on the windshield it went through it. That meant there were only two people left between him and his chance to get back to you.

“FUCK HE��S FREE!” One of the guards yelled at the top of lungs, “SHOOT HIM!”

Atlas switched his attention to the one who had just shouted. Staggering towards him, he dropped to the side at the last second to avoid a bullet. Standing up again swiftly and with ease, he snatched the knife attached to the guard's thighs before sticking it into his neck. After eliminating this vermin and without even looking behind him, he threw the bloodied knife at the last survivor. The weapon ended up in the man's heart with precision.

The android kicked open the already beaten door and climbed out. He scanned the area with his eyes and saw… you. You had staggered out of a car, or what used to be one. Your left hand was supporting one side of your head, blood mixing in your hair and staining your palm. If Atlas had a heart, he would have felt it squeeze. He ran up to you and caught you in his arms before you had the time to even show any sign of falling. Despite the pain he felt by the mere sight of your injured body, by looking in your eyes and weak smile Atlas felt loved like never before.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Vincent was faithful. He wasn’t like those weak minded men that left their partner the second they had a clinical condition. So, even now, despite your body having been mangled and transformed into his worst fear, the mad scientist still had an undying love for you. His boss was also surprisingly supportive of his plan of researching a cure, but Dr. Seraph wasn’t oblivious. Fatalité surely had his reasons to let his sidekick waste day and night on this “side project”, as he liked to call it. The intentions behind it didn’t matter, as long as he had the resources and time at his disposal, it was fine for Vincent.

Entering his lab after a long and tiring day of an unsuccessful battle against some heroes, Dr. Seraph limped his way to his desk while holding his side. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to imagine the words of concern you would have told him seeing his messed up face. Technically, you were there with him… just not capable of sharing any kind words at the moment. Despite it all, Vincent rose up from his chair, wincing at his clearly broken ribs. He walked over to a gigantic glass tube that didn’t look odd in his laboratory filled with strange machines. That’s where he kept you. This was the only way to keep your flesh from rotting away. The only way for him to keep you by his side.

He placed his hand on the glass, wishing he could reach out and touch you like he did so many times before. The empty shell that you had become of yourself grunted and banged onto the surface, the instinct of eating his flesh being the only thought clouding your mind. The mad scientist's eyes filled with tears at this sight and he lowered his gaze. He hated himself for not being able to look at you more than five seconds at a time. He clenched his bruised fist, his despair and sadness quickly turning into a rage filled dedication. He forced his gaze back onto you.

“N-NO! This is not the end.” He straightened his stance as he spoke, “No matter what it takes, no matter who I’ll have to kill, I will bring the real you back to me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Martin felt incredibly grateful for the life he had in Flowermore as he watched you, enamored as ever, dancing with the other folks while he took a sip of his beer on the side. The autumn festival always had been a joyful moment for him, but with you by his side the ambiance felt even more magical. Discarding his drink, the hunter made his way up to you on the dance floor, his gentle smile directed at you contrasting with his scarred lip. Sadly, festivities were interrupted when one of the farmers and the mechanic came rushing in while holding a half conscious stranger. Everyone soon gathered around with curiosity, making it quite difficult for the doctor to go to the injured aids.

The figure was placed on the ground, and it seemed like he had difficulty keeping his head upright. But when the man finally looked up and saw Martin in the crowd, his face contorted in an expression of pure terror. He didn’t have a chance to get anything out of his throat, since the fright was too much for his nerves to bear, and he collapsed in the doctor's lap.

The hunter excused himself from the gathering shortly after. You soon followed suit. You weren’t oblivious to the slight shift in his jaw and his overall body language when he saw the newcomer's face.

“H-hey whatcha you doin’ here darlin’?” Martin quickly sounded like his usual self as he saw your shadow casted between the trees, “I’m sure Linda still got a few pieces left of that pie you love.”

“Martin… please”

The man let out an awkward laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m fine! I was just feeling dizzy from all the drinkin’ and—”

“You were clearly not fine when you saw that man.” You cutted him short, not with anger in your voice, but filled with concern.

“You’re right… I did know this guy…”

This situation was a culmination of everything he always feared. He hated it. He hated it so much. He felt like a prey the moment it gets stuck in a trap, it’s mind going into a frenzy while trying to find a way out. Martin couldn’t possibly tell you the truth, but at the same time lying to you would clearly hurt your feelings. God, he wanted to snap that bastard's neck for daring to crash into his life and ruin everything. He was so self absorbed in his own guilt and anger that he failed to notice that your face had softened up.

“I always want you to feel comfortable enough to share things with me.” You walked closer, the milk light of moon coursing through the leaves illuminating your face like an angel sent down just for him, “But you don’t have to share more if you don’t want to yet, I’ll wait.”

Martin stood there, stunned into silence. How did you manage to always make him fall even deeper in love with you with the most simple words and actions?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You don’t know what woke you up first, the incessant turn and stir of Esteban or the moment he ran into the bathroom in a frenzy. Even with the door closed, you could hear the sound of the running water. Worried that he might have woken up sick, you pulled yourself out of the messy blankets. You rubbed your eyes and called his name as loud as your sleepy throat could muster. No answer from him. He either didn’t hear you or hoped you’d give up and go back to bed, but you weren’t going to do that.

Once you opened the door, you were blinded by the sudden light hitting your cornea and so couldn’t see the state Esteban was in. After you got used to the sudden change, you could see him leaning on the sink, his head hanging low. The man knew you were there and still seemed to choose to ignore you. But upon further observation, you realized that he wasn't. He was actually trying his best not to break down in your presence. The subtle shivering of his body and the fact that he had his eyes closed shut made it clear.

“Esteban…?” You repeated softly, scared that speaking any louder would send him into a panic state.

Your boyfriend forced himself to answer, the words coming out breathlessly. “I'm sorry… I-I didn't want to wake you up for something so stupid...”

For the first time since you entered the bathroom, Esteban let go of the counter and faced you. Before you could retort, he trapped you into a tight embrace, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Insects… They w-were everywhere.” He muttered, clearly trying his best to hold back a sob. “Under my clo-clothes, in my ears, in my eyes—“ He stopped himself as a violent shudder coursed through his body.

“It’s okay, I’m here now and they are all gone.” You raised your hand to rub his back in comforting circles, “can you feel my touch?”

He nodded as a slight moan left his lips. You were right. You were here with him, your touch being the only thing he needed to feel grounded again. Esteban felt silly to not have sought solace in you the moment he woke up, as if you hadn't already seen him at his worst.

He just had to make sure that you never leave him and everything would always be okay.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I’m really proud of my writing in this one 😎 *Pat myself on the shoulder* I hope you guys liked it too!

(I didn’t had Jacce since I received this ask before posting his first chapter and this was already getting very very long. 😔)

[cassiewritessalot]

21

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you went the whole day thinking of rafe and decided to call him at the end of the day, basically the next day, you never expected him to but an answered your call anyway.

warnings: arguing, vulgar language,mentions of sex, lmk if i missed anything! (not proof read)

cassie's notes: i searched everywhere to find rafe's birthday but i couldn't find one with a specific date so i used drew's birthday. i had the best idea listening to '21' by gracie abrams, i recommend listening to it while reading.. enjoy! with love always, cassie <3.

as your eyes fluttered lightly, waking you up from your sleep to get ready for your university classes. you grab your phone from your bedside table to check the time until your eyes fell onto the date.

4th November.. his birthday. you put your phone back on the dresser and look up at the ceiling, thinking about how you used to celebrate rafe's birthday with him.

you first woke up with a cake, singing to him and watching him make a wish, spending the day doing whatever he wanted if both you're schedules allowed you to and then, of course, a party.. and after too many intoxicating items the both of you consumed you'd end up at your apartment, every piece of clothing discarded on the floor, yours and his moans heard through out the night. as you're day dreaming slowly came to an end and you got out of your bed, you wondered if rafe was now spending the day with another woman like how you two used to.

as you got ready for the day, not bothering to put in effort. you slipped into your grey sweatpants and a black long sleeved shirt with a hoodie, leaving your hair down and little to no makeup.

during all your classes, you couldn't stop thinking about rafe, all your thoughts were of him, every hour, every minute. you thought about calling him all throughout the day but didn't want to embarrass yourself knowing there could be thousands of different out comes if you do call rafe, most of them being negative ones.

the day passes by in a blur and the next thing you know you're bak in your apartment looking through all the things you kept that either belonged to rafe or reminded you of rafe. you find a picture of you and rafe, it was a photobooth picture.

the first picture you had your arms around rafe's neck smiling at the camera while rafe was admiring you, not bothering to smile at the camera. the second picture you turned to look at rafe and smiled at each other with big grins. the last picture is you and rafe sharing a sweet passionate kiss. you smiled at the picture, realising how badly your heart was starting the yearn for the dirty blonde-haired boy.

hours passed by, you managed to complete tasks around the house as well as any schoolwork so that you're caught up with everything. when night fell upon the city, you laid awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling and, still, thinking of rafe. you reached for your phone and read the time, 11:43 p.m.

'what if i just called him?' you thought to yourself not realising you were already searching for his contact in your phone. once you phoned his contact, you inhaled and exhaled a few times to prepare yourself for what you're about to do, before you knew it, you pressed the call button.

'he won't answer, he won't answer, he won't answer..' you repeated to yourself over and over again and after the third ring you were about to end the call until you heard the sound of the call being accepted and you felt your heart go to your stomach.

"y/n?', you heard rafe's voice, you could hear the sound of faint music in the back, sounding very muffled.

"rafe, hey.. uh- happy 21st.", i wish him, wondering if he can hear my anxiety through the phone.

"thank you.. i appreciate it.", he thanks and i mumble a 'your welcome' and just before i end the call i hear his voice loud and clear.

"you know, i was kinda to see a text or something from you all day.", he admits with a slight chuckle, his words bringing a faint smile to my face.

"i wanted to reach out so many times, trust me, i just didn't want to embarrass myself, you know?', i explain to the boy and he lets out a little 'mhm' in response.

'uh- how was your day? shouldn't you being having a party right now?", i asked the boy.

"honestly, kinda lame compared to all the years we spent it together, but i am at my party- or was. i ran to my car the second i saw your name pop up on my phone.", rafe explains again and i feel my smile growing.

"i miss you so much y/n.", he speaks again and i sit up, leaning against my head board, processing his words.

"i miss you more rafe.. more than you would ever know. everything reminds me of you- of us.", i express my feelings to the boy.

"i need to see you y/n, where are you?", he asks me and i can hear his car starting, ready to drive wherever i am.

"my apartment- the same address as always.", i reply and rafe lets out a little 'okay' in response. we stay on the phone with each other as he drives to my place and catch up with one another over what's happened in the year we've been separated.

after about 20 minutes of us talking, and rafe driving, he tells me he's outside the door to my apartment and i end the phone call going to the door to unlock it for rafe. as soon as i open the door we greet each other and i invite rafe inside.

i quickly lock the door and turn around to see rafe walking and looking around my apartment.

"i like what you did with your place, it's different- a good different.", he turns back to look at me with a smile and i return the smile.

"yeah- i needed a change.", i look around my apartment with rafe before noticing his eyes fall to a specific wall in my room dedicated to pictures of my friends and myself. there was a specific picture of rafe and i- the photobooth picture from this afternoon.

"you still have that?", he asks me with a smile, i nod my head in reply and as he looks at the picture, my face turns to him and i admire his features. he didn't change much, still had his buzz cut, and those gorgeous blue eyes that you could always get lost in. while you were admiring your ex-boyfriend, you didn't notice him looking back at you with the same amount of admiration until you heard his voice.

"i really missed you, y/n.", he repeats what he said earlier on the phone call.

"i really missed you too, rafe.", i tell him and feel my eyes fill with tears while looking up at him.

"hey- what's the matter, huh?", he asks and steps closer to me wrapping his arms around me, placing his chin on my head. i wrap my arms around his waist and attempt to keep the tears inside of my eyes.

"i don't know.. i just really miss being with you- being yours.", i explain to the boy and feel his old on my body get tighter.

"i miss that too y/n/n, so much. the things i'd do for you to be mine again.", he mumbles the last part before leaning down slightly to kiss my head. i slowly lift my gaze from the floor to his face.

"you'd willingly want to be with me again?", i ask the boy with a faint smile on my face.

"always- i feel like i'm required to have a second chance with you as i've learned from my past mistakes and am now a better man for you. if you don't want that i completely understand.", rafe says as he locks his eyes with mine with a smirk on his face.

i don't say anything, i close my eyes and place my lips on his- the kiss is filled with love and passion. it's not rough- it's slow and sensual. i slowly pull away.

"i never stopped being yours rafe..", i say in a voice above a whisper before placing my lips back on rafe's, feeling the both of us smile into the kiss.

"'missed these sweet lips..", he mumbles softly and wraps his arms under my thighs, making me jump and wrap my legs around his waist and he walks towards my bed, placing me down on my back and leaning down between my legs.

"show me how much you missed me, rafey.."

[lucygraysboy]

“that makes two of us.” lips pulling into small smile, still trying to break the walls of anger and hatred between them. though, he understands why she might not want to befriend the twin brother of the very man who’d hurt her and betrayed her trust. (it’s still so hard to believe that coriolanus’ capable of such things.) she’s letting him stay here and that’s a lot. “actually, everyone always said that i was more like my ma.” which is something that he takes great pride in to this day. she was an angel. “that’s great news. tigris. i remember this one doll that she had when we were little, how we’d play with it for hours.” well, coriolanus didn’t play with dolls, but they did. “does she live with grandma’am, too? that old hag,” billy adds, hoping to coax at least a chuckle out of the other, wondering if she’s ever met said old hag. “she never liked me, you know? did coriolanus ever tell you that? she never liked mom either, thought our father could have married someone better.” he feels awful for wishing ill on his own grandmother, but there’s never been much love between them.

“actually, you did attack me first. don’t know if you noticed but i didn’t fight back ‘cause i don’t beat up girls. and i never killed anybody, never lied to you. i don’t even know your name. well, i know your middle name is gray. what’s the first one?” he inquires, trying to change the subject because he can tell that she’s getting all worked up again and doesn’t want her to explode. “alright, let’s agree to disagree for now. but he meant a lot to you, didn’t he? sorry if i’m crossin’ the line here.” he lowers his gaze, focusing on cleaning the wounds on her feet. he takes another clean cloth and uses it to pat her skin dry. he can’t help but wonder if, beneath all these raggedy clothes, there might be other wounds and cuts festering. “is it just your feet that are hurt? what about your arms and legs?” he asks, dipping a fingertip in iodine and rubbing it into her flesh. his hands calloused and large, but tender and caring. it’s plain to see that she’s suffered enough. he doesn’t want to cause her any more pain. “again, i don’t kill people and you don’t have to fear me,” he sighs, looking up at her as his fingers pull a sock onto her left foot before moving onto the right one. 

“i wish i knew.” wishin’ she knew why so many born in the capitol are so heartless, tigris may be the only one that isn’t. “must be where you get it from, then.” his father. “tigris is alive, you should know…” the brunette mumbles, hands nervously raking through her damp curls. “well, that is rude cause i never attacked you first. you killed people, lied about who you killed, was goin’ to kill me. don’t act like you’re the innocent one here.” lucy gray bitterly speaks, brows creasing at him in anger. sounds like coriolanus lives beneath there, after all, it looks like. “i attacked you because you tried to shoot me a thousand times the last time we saw each other. ‘course i attacked you.” a scoff sounds from her, irritably watching him come closer. “i don’t mean anything to him. to you.” growing frustrated he almost keeps getting away with tricking her like he wants. it’s bizarre how alike he is to coriolanus but isn’t coriolanus. except, he is— cause that’s all a lie. “i won’t if you don’t try killin’ me first.” she mumbles, keeping her knife right behind her, sitting on it. saying that just to flinch when his hand wraps around her ankle, feeling like he’s trying to restrain her, capture her or something but realizing he’s just moving her foot to the water. what an even weirder image this is… coriolanus taking care of her blisters and weirdly caring about the state of her skin. staring and staring… trying to figure him out. different mannerisms, different hair color, different clothing. but the same face and the same hands with just more wear and tear to his callouses, probably all designed to throw her off guard like her mind is currently doing… spinning. peering into his eyes is what’s so haunting most of all.

[anticidic]

One evening I came across a house that had no one inside it, not even a mouse.

I thought it strange and said to myself, “How peculiar, surely someone must wander its halls?”

And so I called and my voice echoed,

…that’s when the moan of a ghost bellowed.

"Every relationship has burdens they have to overcome. Together."

"But our burdens seem to be more substantial."

ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE

Ghost!Dazai and human!Chuuya AU ficlet. 1,074 words. Character death with a happy ending.

"That's what makes them even more worth fighting for," Chuuya said.

He fixed his hair in the mirror and tucked a lock behind his ear. Behind stood Dazai by the open door, his arms at his chest as he leaned against the wall. Watching. As he always did. When Chuuya looked away and fixed his bowtie for the third time, Dazai faded from sight.

It was quiet. No sound, no movement. The headlights of oncoming cars from down below in the district like tiny ants navigating the colony sped past.

Then he reappeared.

Chuuya frowned and shifted his attention away from his reflection. Dazai's form flickered rapidly until he was no more in the blink of an eye and all that was left were footsteps down the hall. A door opening. And shutting. Wind blew through his clothes and he felt detached from his surroundings. Inside the building—a cold memory hung.

As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, Dazai struggled to maintain his form for more than a few hours at a time before he had to step away. Their makeshift constellations before bed included Chuuya sipping from his wine and a blanket draped over his shoulders, on the couch. Across from him with ghostly legs draped across his lap was Dazai leaning back and propped up by physical cushions he had no use for. He could phase right through them if he wished. Chuuya would go on about his day, about the stray animal he fed, and about the elderly neighbor, Mr. Kishimura, whom he checked in on after not seeing the man on his early morning walk with cane in hand. Dazai would listen with a smile and when he spoke, he spoke with a whispering echo that wrapped around the room and filtered through the halls like a memory fading, fading away.

The most fragile voice Chuuya had ever heard. Dazai was just holding onto reality enough to be there. With him.

“I’ve never been more restless than the day you moved in,” Dazai paused and crossed the room. He placed a hand upon Chuuya’s cheek and cupped it tenderly. “I fear I’ll never be at peace now. Each day gets harder and I’m not long for this world anymore. I should’ve been gone when I took my last breath.” He sighed. “Does the longing ever stop?”

The words rang hollow. Chuuya stood there in thought and nodded with the tiniest smile.

A feeling of tenderness washed over him—a longing even, perhaps. And gentle tragedy. He gazed at the dresser, recently dusted with several framed photos propped up on it. Chuuya smiled in all of them, alone. He was never centered in the photo, always off to the side. His friends could not understand what Chuuya needed room for, and why he’d ask them to take several steps back to make sure they captured everything and everyone in the photo, but they relented for him. He never looked happier than in those fleeting moments in time: absolutely, completely alone.

“It’ll end. We know how this ends.”

Their story would come to an end. He had maybe one or two more chapters left in him. Dazai would go on forever. Chuuya would not.

At half-past midnight when his eyes closed, the blanket fell from his shoulders and rested atop his body. The lights turned off, and the remote was placed on the table in front of the television. A chill overcame him against his skin. A caress not of this world, but still entirely loving and careful like he was the one who would break first and not Dazai.

Maybe it did break him. Knowing they were together, had been together, and could forever be together but not actually experiencing what it was like to be in one another’s arms. Chuuya had not even photos of them. The first anniversary. The second one that came and went with him in bed bundled against the harsh winter outside and nursing a hot cup of tea. He lay across one side of the bed with the other half reserved for Dazai. The third was spent at work with Dazai using the last of his energy to follow after Chuuya for the day. They sat in a dim restaurant that night with smooth jazz playing in the background and a lit candelabra on the table in front of them. Chuuya would talk, talk, talk the night away and look as if he was holding a conversation entirely by himself to the onlookers. But Dazai was there as he always was. Listening. Even wearing a suit to match Chuuya’s own.

Chuuya coughed with a wheeze.

Days turned into months which became years on end spanning decades. His hair dulled. And he grew weaker by the day.

He lay in bed with the lights on and the television softly playing in the background, head turned toward the balcony. The same one he spent chilly evenings out on with a cigarette between fingers laughing to himself whenever Dazai’s words reached his ears.

Over the howl of the wind and so soft only he could hear, Dazai whispered: “I love you.”

Those same words would find themselves stuck to the walls and lost to time. One living memory would become two.

Chuuya closed his eyes for the last time and drew his final breath. Everything went dark and silent. Peaceful.

Then he awakened to Dazai looking down at him with the softest smile. On the verge of tears? Or was Chuuya imagining it? He reached out and touched Dazai’s cheek. Warm. A sunny spring day after the cold rain.

A startling realization hit him.

He could feel Dazai for the first time. They were back in his apartment with the lights off and Dazai sat crisscrossed on the bed beside him.

“Rest, Chuuya,” Dazai said. He lay on his side facing Chuuya, never taking his eyes off him. “We overcame our burdens. You were right.”

“You waited all these years to be with me?”

“And I loved every minute of it spent with you.” A pause, fabric rustled as Dazai pulled the covers over them and he draped an arm across Chuuya’s chest. His cheek rested on a pillow, and he had the most adoring look in those eyes Chuuya had seen since…since the earliest days of their relationship when it was still little but a budding flower.

“—And I’ll love our endless future.”

[cardinalfirefly]

And here we have a visual depiction of younger sibling energy as the otherwise sulky man in yellow is parroted by his brat of a brother in blue.

[screampied]

#THE GRUDGE! g. satoru

☆ sum. perhaps screwing your ex-husband while the kids are out trick-or-treating wasn’t the best idea. but with him, the only treat he wants to trick is not in a basket—it’s right between your legs.. boo!

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, ex-husband gojo, mentions of (2) kids, unprotected, pwp, mild hatefùcking, kakashi references eheh, gojo's still whipped, filthy dirty talk, prone bone, praise, implied bréeding, cunnīlingus / face sītting, bóob fondling, possessive themes, size kink, overstim, brat taming, fıngering, squırting, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist

at the gojo’s, you mentally smack yourself as your feet step onto the scream-themed door mat that reads ‘step if you dare.’ part of you wished no one would answer the doorbell, but part of you solely wished he didn’t answer. it was about seven thirty at night, and with it being saturday, you had the kids for a few days. after that, you’d switch with satoru—your jeering hot-headed ex-husband. you decided since you got off early you’d take them trick-or-treating for a bit. but it’s to your utmost ‘surprise’ that satoru opens the door.

“oh! and who are you supposed to be pretty lady?” he’d hum, digging his hands into his pockets. satoru purposely tilts his head down, getting a good look at you while raising a brow. of course, he always went out for his costumes. this year, he’s wearing some sort of green flak jacket, a mask, and a long-sleeved shirt underneath with dark blue pants.

with a grump, you tuck your arms underneath your pits with your purse clinging onto your shoulder. “myself,” and your eyes flicker toward his messy frosted hair that’s spikier than usual. satoru’s wide headband partially droops below his left eye before you finish mumbling, “who are you even supposed to be.”

“uh, kakashi hatake. the man, the myth, the legend,” and satoru leans back against the front door, pulling out a fake kunai. a hand runs through his hair before he snickers at your unamused expression. tough crowd. “aw, you must be here for the kids, yeah? well, they’re out with nanami ‘n suguru trick-or-treatin’. just some blocks down,” and satoru stepped a few feet back once you trod your way inside, mutely cursing yourself that you’d probably have to wait until they got back. as long as they were with nanami and suguru—you didn’t have a problem. satoru shuts the timber wooden-made door behind him before speaking smugly. “oh. sure.. sure, just make yourself right at home, wifey.”

“don’t call me that.”

“just did.”

oh, brother.

the moment you stepped foot into your old spacey luxurious townhome satoru had built personally for you and your kids—the memories all came crawling back. the two of you didn’t end off on a bad note—divorces happen, and you both maintained a healthy relationship with the kids. you each agreed to co-parent, you’d get the week and he’d get the weekend - sometimes switching and vice versa.

“excuse the mess,” satoru hums, grabbing your coat. he tosses it over his shoulder before giving you another up-down glance. “if i knew you were comin’ over around this hour i’d clean a bit,” and he watches you struggle to keep eye contact. “hey. sweetheart, you’re lookin’ down again.”

with a scoff, you meet his gaze again. and fuck, does he look like he’s gotten even more handsome.

satoru gojo was always attractive—there was no doubt about it.

he was in his mid-thirties now, the two of you had settled down after college before having two kids of your own.

again, there wasn’t a reason for your divorce that was relatively a bad thing. you two just both decided to part ways - but of course, it was lots of unprovoked tension.

the costume that he wore was apparently based on some character named ‘kakashi’ whatever, and like always, he dressed the part. every year once the end of october would come around, satoru would wear an outfit just ‘cause. he stood tall, with serrated white hair that was jagged from all angles with the headband hanging off a side of his eye. in the middle part, the symbol was some kind of swirl that was never-ending.

satoru rambled to you that it was something . . something, a hidden leaf—honestly, you tuned out.

he wore the mask part too, covering up a good portion of his face from the nose down, and even had the red slanting scar that kakashi had near the left side of his eye that was probably makeup.

“i don’t wanna fight, gojo.”

“hmph. so it’s ‘gojo’ now,” he rolls his eyes, hanging your coat up near the rack. you take a quick peer around the room, seeing a plethora of toys and multicolored legos everywhere. it nearly makes you smile, remembering when satoru stepped on one of his youngest daughter’s legos. satoru leans against the glassy kitchen island, watching you take a seat near the crimson-red stool before humming. “and i don’t wanna fight either. in fact, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“so . . talk then,” you murmur, shifting your weight in your feet.

a brief smile creases against both sides of his lips before he grins. “soooo,” and it’s an awkward pause. you eye your ex-husband and he’s got somewhat of a bashful expression. rimy eyes of his dart toward your hand—your fingers specifically before he slyly coos. “i see you’re still wearin’ your wedding ring.”

shit.

he had a point.

after all this time, you still had your ring on. satoru did too—he also kept his ring on all the time, happily flashing it in front of countless numbers of women who’d try to hit on him.

you honestly don’t know why you still held on to it, let alone wear it, and to your surprise—you thought he’d stop wearing his those long seven months ago when the two of you officially split.

you bit the inside of your cheek before letting off a snarky, “shut up.”

satoru nearly snickers before he leans up close to you, only a few inches away. he’s so close that you get a loud wafting whiff of his citrusy cologne.

you remember the exact brand too, and it wasn’t exactly cheap either. he’d buy at least a dozen whenever the two of you went out shopping together - well, used to.

there’s so much tension between you both that you could cut it with a knife - the tension was thick, and the awkward dull pauses only made it even more intense.

there’s an annoying voice in your brain that’s screaming at you to just screw it - screw him, make up for lost time, and just . . . kiss him.

you did want to kiss satoru, and your eyes found themselves glancing toward his pearly pink lips that were almost always naturally glossed.

satoru’s eyes intently lock against yours for a few seconds before he casually brings a thumb up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away a bit of your lip gloss before cooing huskily. he expects you to pull away, but you don’t— in fact, you lean into his touch. once he notices, the only thing he replies with is a playful curt utter of,

“make me.”

so you do, but . . not in the way he expected.

not that satoru gojo was ever a man to complain though, especially with you.

and that’s when he found himself in quite a lewd predicament. satoru’s laid back against his cushiony padded mattress with you straddling his perfectly sculptured chin. a gloved hand of his grip near your right hip before he strums a thumb down your sopping wet entrance.

glossy - it’s prettier like he’s never seen it, and he can’t help but lick his lips like an animal preparing to feast the second you start to smear yourself against his chin.

“y’knowww baby, when you told me to shut up i didn’t think you meant sitting on my f—mmph,” and you cut him off mid-sentence by softly planting your cunt back on his mouth.

satoru grunts, bringing his free hand to wrap around the other unoccupied corner of your waist. he grunts, dipping his tongue inside before the familiar taste comes crawling back to his spiraling tastebuds. your taste, he missed your sweetness . . almost as much as he missed you.

as you sweetly moan within each dragging second, you glance down at him with hazed-blown pupils. shifting your wobbly weight and knees against his face, you start to feel his stubble rub on your skin. it almost tickles - but oh, you weren’t laughing.

his tongue had you doing quite the opposite.

“f- fuck,” you huff out, already starting to feel the plunging heaves of your stomach commence. sure, this was probably a bad idea, and sure, you and him probably needed to have an actual conversation at some point but now - you didn’t care about words.

you didn’t care about anything, and part of you kind of missed him.

perhaps his tongue was a majority reason for that part, and each time he rummages inside the deep secluded parts of your pussy, you let off cute individual mewling whimpers. satoru’s always been skilled, and he knew just how to please you.

his tongue always knew how to remind you of how much it’s missed its favorite meal.

curl after fucking curl, he’s leisurely spelling out letters and shapes and symbols with his tongue, taking every few seconds to swallow. satoru groans against your slobbering cunt, feeling you briefly thrust up against his nose and he can’t help but smell your tangy glacé coated sex.

it’s pleasantly sweet, and for a moment, scintillating blue eyes meet back up toward you. “h- heh, ‘s this why you came over? to shut me up ‘n use my fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart?”

“god, you talk t.. too much,” you moan, grabbing a fistful of his hair. in a way - that was true.

satoru was the definition of a blabbermouth.

he’d just talk and talk and talk . . yapping your ear off until you shut him right up in the best (and his personal favorite) way possible - sitting on his pretty face.

a pompous grin stretches across each corner of his lips whilst his jaw’s already dripping due to your slick that paints near the outer crevices of his thin lips. slow, it starts to slowly trickle down his chin at a snail-like pace, creating a shimmery coat of gloss that dribbles underneath his slack mandible.

satoru lays his long pointed tongue flat - savoring every single drop before he’s starting to suck against your clit.

“oh! fuck, right there ‘toru, riiiight there,” and he’s just sloppy. the mask part of his costume was pulled down to his neck as he was using his upper and bottom lip to munch against your sobbing pussy at irregularly paced intervals. your legs failed to stay still and you could already feel the carnal slope of your back starting to form an obtuse-like arch. “fuck, fuckin’ spit on it, ‘toru. pleasepleaseee.”

cute.

you’re calling him ‘toru again, and it makes him cockily grin knowing it was his tongue’s doing.

“wifey’s still as nasty as ever,” satoru whispers against your leaky folds, sliding a thin middle finger near your wet entrance. with a loud ‘psh’ you end up gushing out a bit abruptly and you whine loudly. your thighs rapidly snap together as you blink thrice, feeling his swollen lips glue against your pussy. “mmh, still a wet girl too. my wet girl.” you peek down at satoru who’s the literal epitome of the word smug.

he’s smearing his entire face against your teary slabbering cunt, spitting on it before lapping it right back up again.

you missed his nasty mouth - badly, and it makes your eyes shamelessly roll backward as you start to frailly rut your rickety hips into his mouth.

satoru brings two willowy fingers toward your slit before sliding the icy jewel rock of his wedding ring against your dribbling cunt.

wet, you were soaked and you let off shivering labored breaths once he started to toy with your saturated slick entrance.

with widened doe eyes, you meet his esurient-filled gaze and he hums at you. “listen to how damn wet she is,” he huffs, and you moan at the ridiculously drenching sounds of your pussy. he’s playing with you from between your thighs, chin still dripping with insane amounts of your syrupy juices. “mhm, i know, i know,” and you feel the feeble weight of your thighs quiver the second he’s focusing his attention primarily on your cunt now and not you.

all six eyes were fixated between your legs—

satoru strums the pad of his thumb down your drooling slit before gradually rolling his tongue from top-to-fucking-bottom.

he’s nasty, slithering the tip of his tongue everywhere until your toes curl and you’re letting off the cutest shrilling sounds. satoru even starts to spell out ‘m-a-r-r-y m-e’ and as lewd as it was, he’s proposing to your pussy. he needed you, and satoru knew the both of you divorcing was nearly inevitable, but he missed you.

he especially missed the way you tasted - so sweet, he could eat you out for hours even with his jaw sore ‘n locked. satoru’s a pussy pleaser, making you draw out sweet cries of more as he slurps you clean, his tongue occasionally sliding toward your puckering hole.

“satoru… ngh,” you whimper, the grip of your hand against his hair getting stronger. you’re fucking his face, grinding your slick against his mouth while watching his pretty frosty lashes flap. you’re squelching profusely, and each sloshing slosh of your pussy makes his dick twitch in his pants. “goddd, ‘m gonna cum. make me cum, fuck.”

“let’s see what she thinks,” he purrs, lustrous polished lips flushing into a pearly coat of clear once he licks them. satoru’s entirely pussy drunk, and you shudder once he slowly inserts a lanky middle finger. with a loud ‘pop!’ sound, it dexterously slides itself in, rummaging past the tight ring of your entrance.

fuck, he had such long fingers.

you almost forgot - satoru always joked with you how being ‘the strongest’ came with having six-inch fingers and he wasn’t fucking kidding . .

“hm, should my baby cum? does she deserve it?” and your lips curl up into a pout. he’s serious, having an entire conversation with your pussy. you moaned, maintaining a stiff grip on his hair before satoru started to smear circles against your cunt.

again, you’re just wet. your slickness amused him and satoru can’t help but playfully pat your pretty soddened pussy with the center of his palm once he doesn’t get a reply. the only reply he does get is the cute sloshing sounds that repeatedly gush between your poor quivery thighs.

you’re slowing yourself against his mouth as you straddle him, whimpering at the feeling of his thin digit piercing its way inside of you. you’re close, and you can feel yourself glitching and spasming the second the tip of his finger grazes past your g-spot.

already, he’s located it like ‘x’ marks the spot. your jaw was dropped, and you were on the verge of euphoric death.

satoru stretched your cunt out perfectly with just one finger, and sure . . you’ve had your fair share of intimacy with your ex-husband, but fuck did it always feel like the first time.

you couldn’t help but start to drool a bit, weakly rutting your hips against his face as you’re leisurely getting closer to the brink of your edge.

it’s carnal, you’re stupidly crisscrossed with your eyes flickering back and forth like turning signals before satoru starts to playfully nibble against your cunt again. this time though, he’s adding in another finger and the spongy pressure that’s being played with inside of you earns out a sweet honeyed gasp that sounds like a breathy shriek!

“toru, sato—fuck, ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum,” and your words repeated themselves over and over. you’re like a broken recurrent record on a looping vinyl. your cunt continues to sloppily rest against his perfect crooked lips the entire time as you’re blissfully coming undone.

satoru’s staring at you the entire time, practically undressing you with his eyes. he grunts, spotting how your perked nipples noticeably prodded through your silvery blouse. “ugh, fuuuck.” and it hits you like a crashing wave that slams its way into shore.

satoru’s still heartily pumping two slender digits in and out of your splashing cunt whilst you gush right on him, weak defeated hips losing their stability.

you were whimpering, tasting your candied orgasm on your tongue—it felt that good to where it’s like you could taste every nerve against your salivated tastebuds.

only satoru could make you cum on his tongue like this. you were speechless - frantically panting as you released your hand from his ghostly white strands. he’s still leaking your juices from the crannies of his lips before he exhales deeply.

“yeaaah, atta girl. lay it on me,” and you moan as he’s still sliding his long tongue in between the sopping folds of your sensitive cunt, gradually pulling out his lengthy digit pillars of fingers. “fuck, y’r so hot when you try ‘ta put me in my place, sweetheart.”

“stop talking,” you pant, getting off of him. satoru raises a pallid brow, and he grows amused once you suddenly push him to lie flat against his back. with a raspy ‘ugh’ he lands back against the velvet-colored pillows, a sly smirk marinating against his complacent features.

like a slut - he merrily manspreads just for you, long legs spread wide apart with a huge bulge sticking out of his pants.

he’s still got the shinobi headband on, part of it slumping down his left eye. “oh, what’s this?” he lowly gruffs, eyeing you from head to toe again.

this time though, it’s more sensual. satoru’s taking in every piece of fabric that’s protecting your skin, watching as you slowly undress yourself.

he could feel his boner excruciatingly rubbing against his pants the more he watched. he’s taking in your appetizing presented curves . . so pretty. especially after having two kids - his kids.

“gonna ride me, yeah?” he jibes, continuing once you were now left in nothing but a matching set of panties and bra.

coincidentally - the colors matched his exact eye color, and satoru always had a thing for you wearing clothes that matched his eyes. but like always, he just kept on talking. he was too cocky for his good, and maybe one more fuck was just what you needed. what you both needed.

just . . one . . more,

right?

well, that’s what you told yourself.

but all that went out the window the second you’re aligning yourself on his cock. satoru takes a sharp three-second breath, ogling at your every move. it’s like a game of chess. he’s waiting for you - for your cunt to make its move against his throbbing mushroomy tip.

two big hands of his wrap around your waist and he grunts lowly. feeling your slick cunt maneuver itself against his angry reddened tip makes his head slightly toss back in feral rapture.

his tip—it’s got a coral blush, and you let off a moan at feeling his hooked fat plump crownhead try to plummet its way in.

it’s rude, not caring to introduce itself to your cunt but slam its way in instead, asking if your insides remember him.

and it does - it definitely does.

“ohhh fuck,” you sob out a needy moan, your hips eagerly making two solid taut bucks against him.

satoru groans against your ear, swollen sack peeling back as you’re still straddling him. your body, it was in his arms again and he couldn’t help but feel you everywhere.

starting at your hips, he holds them tight, tracing the callused scarred tips of fingers all around the curvature of your body before trailing down toward the juncture of your rear. “god, don’t know how much i missed you ‘n your smart mouth,” and as you let off a surprised gasp, satoru grabs a nice chunk of your ass. “missed this ass just as much.”

“bet you did,” you puff, full lungs already on the verge of collapsing. he’s huge - and barely the tip was in and you could already feel your pussy starting to throw a fit of tantrums. satoru’s girth made him stretch more, and for a second you let off another sweet moan before meeting his gaze.

he’s got a delicious curve to him that always makes your insides twist and churn. it’s a feeling you’ll probably never get used to.

“what’s with the smirk? somethin’ funny?”

“you, baby,” satoru titters, giving you a haughty head nod. you feel your cunt throb as you’re trying to continue to lower yourself down on his cock but the stretch - fuck, pretty soon your poor cunt was about to be met with max fucking capacity.

satoru’s sparkly heavy-lidded eyes linger on you before he cups your chin, swiping a thumb across your wet quavering lips. “all that talk ‘n you still can’t take me. thought i trained my wife’s pussy good,” and with a teasing pout, he shrugs. “guessss not!”

“fuck you.” you moan, mentally groaning the second you felt yourself getting more soaked, just from his words alone.

pathetic - and yet, you wanted more.

satoru clicks his tongue, and with a blink of an eye, he now has you flipped over. you gasp, landing flat on your chest as he’s got your wrists restrained against your back.

satoru rolls his eyes, sprawling out your weak-kneed legs all the way apart to get a good glimpse of your sopping pussy from the back.

god, in his mind - it should have been a crime to be this wet. your sopping, pearly translucent molasses of your slick stream down your pulsing entrance and he grunts.

“fuck you,” he repeats, although he says it cheekily. even though you weren’t even facing him anymore you could almost visibly see the annoying shit-eating grin plastering on his face.

from ear to ear with each of his dimples piercing each wry crevice of his mouth, he's so smug--bastard.

your back arches and you moan the second he starts to smack his rotund tip against your pussy. “myyy, what a fuckin’ mess,” and you suck your teeth, feeling satoru’s loud spanks hit louder. each time his fat cockhead thumps itself against your wet outer folds, the vibrations make you shiver from the waist down.

the tingly tenderness makes your toes immediately curl up once more and your canorous-like moans start to become muffled once you dig your teeth into the edge of a nearby pillow. “still wet after alllll this time like a good messy girl,” he grits. with another smack of his tip, your leg twitches in response. “ooh, she likes that,” and satoru softly spreads your saturated cunt lips apart with two fingers just to see your pulse throb in full filthy action. “fuuck, she’s achin’ for it. look at that pretty ‘lil throb. so cute.”

“are you gonna fuck me or n—”

“listen, honey,” and you moan at the sudden husky drop of his voice. satoru softly wraps a few fingers around your throat, pressing his slim body right against your own. he drops your wrist, watching you sink into the mattress as limp-like. he’s so close that you could feel the outline of his abs prods against his shirt.

inching his lips near the shell of your earlobe, he starts to pant. heavy, sinister breath that ends up making you throb ten times harder. “i’m gonna fuck you,” he grunts, feeling your ass cutely try to jerk its way against him. the costume part of his pants was lazily pulled down, reaching the low area of his ankles. with a husky sigh, satoru brings his tip near the dripping entrance of your sloppy doused cunt. “might as well fuck that bratitude out of ya too while ‘m at it,” and you moan once he’s slowly starting to sink his way in.

satoru grabs ahold of your torso, lifting you slightly to a certain degree. your ass was raised just a few meters with your face smushed against the satiny made bedsheets.

his eyes dart down your body for another time and now, he’s just openly gawking at your exposed skin - your gorgeous physique.

satoru could stare at you all day if he could. “f- fuh—fuck,” you croak, plump lips forming into a hoop-like ‘o’ the moment he’s easing his way inside. there goes his ridiculous girth again, there goes his fat length that never fails to rearrange your clingy needy insides.

your tummy dips from each inch that’s gradually disappearing inside of you like a never-before-seen magic trick until he’s starting to gruffly groan. satoru’s already breaking a frigidly cold sweat.

it was just him feeling your covetous wet cunt voluntarily swallow him up - squeezing him tightly like a vice until you wring him dry. your pussy’s holding him hostage, and with the tight firm grasp you had against him, you never wanted to let go. “ ‘toruuu, ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“allll for you,” he drags out his words through raspy breathy sentences. chalky white brows of his compress together as he’s starting to feel the brief twinge of pleasure that courses through his beefy clenched thighs. with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, satoru already heard your gargling pussy trying to get more bratty words in. “all. for. you,”

and he punctuated his words just like he punctuated his merciless, sloppy thrusts.

the first thrust was rigid, the second thrust was sensual, and the third was damn near powerful. .

you moan loudly, feeling him caress tender circles near the exposed nape of your neck with his thumb as he tries to start up a sufficient pace. it took him a moment before he was fully in, making sure you felt and remembered every single inch.

satoru expands through your cunt like a domain.. the more carnal lewd way though.

it makes you shiver, and with his weight pressing into your ass that was your last fucking straw.

satoru’s got you in prone bone - a position like doggy but better, and he’s got his chiseled hips just barely hovering over your ass. with pounds and pounds of skin against skin—each smack against flesh had your mind going for a whirl ride.

you were already surrounded by his sweltering warmth from the inside and the feeling alone was enough to make your mouth water.

heavy airy pants drew out from your full lungs like you were some sort of animal, then again—it’s satoru gojo, and his dick was just one of a fuckin’ kind..

his cock was heavy, driving through your cunt like it’s been ages, and it kinda has.

with a hypnotic pivot of his askew hips, satoru makes you arch just a bit further. it’s a pretty arch, and he skips a few fingers down your curling spine. he watches you trying to wriggle away but with a cocky, “ah ah. where ya goin'?” he reels you right back into him. he’s so thick, and he only imagined how pretty you looked with your eyes lulling toward the back of your skull. “aw, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs lowly, and you moan once he gives your ass a rude spank. “wanna hear my wife’s pretty voice. y’r sloppy pussy’s nice but i wanna—ngh, hear you.”

“ex-wife,” you correct him again, and you know he’s just addressing you as that just to tease you. you start to whimper as his rhythm starts to pick up, ploddingly dragging his keen hips further and further into you. “hnghh. stupid-,” you blurb out another weak squalling whimper, gluey lips starting to stick together.

you almost forgot how mean his dick game was, and satoru knew how to fuck.

he had the type of dick where it’d make you question your life choices—so good, each curve of his hips had you getting more and more stupid.

you’re pronounced cock drunk within milliseconds, and it doesn’t even take you long before your eyes were as wide as saucers, tongue lolled, and your back arches to its very limit.

and his stamina . . oh,

it never changed once he aged—he had the stamina of a fucking stallion, and his hips proved the horsepower to back it up.

“whaaat’s that?” satoru chirps, adding a bit more pressure around your throat. it’s safe - but you let off a tiny crooning moan once his strokes become deeper. you feel him reach at unimaginable angles, and your eyes start to roll back again.

satoru’s got you right where he wants, in his bed, the bed that used to be shared between you both.

he’s amping up his delirious pace, striking his feral hips into you quicker before groaning against your ear. in a hoarse tone, he licks a stripe down your neck. “such a brat, bet you don’t slut this pretty pussy out for anyone else, huh?”

you moan, feeling him breathe down your neck. cloudy hot puffs of air aerate against your skin before satoru starts to suck against your shoulder. “mmh. maybe i do. ‘s none of your business.”

“oh girl, please,” satoru replies, and his sass was enough to make your thighs quake.

you still couldn’t get used to his size - the fat fucking size of his cock that nearly makes both of your thighs clamp shut.

the shirt part of his costume snags against your skin as he’s still fucking you raw, buried balls fuckin’ deep before satoru starts to slow down.

with a wet ‘plop!’ he grunts, feeling his dick slip right out of you. “fuuck,” and he takes a moment to stare at the sight underneath him.

you, his pretty ex-wife all arched and hunched over.

your pussy’s pitifully drooling for more - sniveling wetly from the sheeny flaps as you clench around the air for a few seconds.

as a soft needy moan leaves you, you whine out an inaudible noise that sounds almost like you’re saying ‘what happened?’

“so . . fuckin’ hot,” satoru groans, re-aligning himself back against your slick-flooded entrance.

he heard your melodic ‘oooh’ leave from your lips as he was back inside, a content sigh departing from his chest. satoru can’t help but lean himself against you, bringing his hands toward your bouncy tits. “ah, can’t forget about my favorite girls,” and you let off a plethora of whiney whimpers, feeling him drag his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. satoru’s hips start to get sloppy and his cock’s just lazily swerving its way through every filthy orifice. “so pretty ‘n plump. . all mine.”

satoru continues to fondle your breasts as he’s ruthlessly pounding into you, swinish hands desperate to feel every part of your round soft tits. he’s moaning against your ear right with you, and satoru’s starting to feel himself steadily reach toward his vulgar demise.

his cock’s rude, repeatedly hitting itself against your precious beloved g-spot. it’s smothering it with a multitude of sloppy kisses with his tip, making sure it savors every wet smooch. “fuck, fuck me,” you moan, lying in a puddle of your drool that starts to dampen the pillow that rests underneath your chin.

“greedy ‘lil thing,” satoru huffs, and as he’s still playing with your tits, his pumps start to slow down. satoru’s massaging your walls so good that it’s like he’s putting a wicked spell on your pussy.

you could barely even sit up anymore, and he’s holding your hips firmly. “mmhhh, gettin’ me all soaked, baby. should make you lick me right up.”

“how about you stop talking-”

“how about i edge you ‘n let you finish this sloppy pussy yourself, huh?”

radio silence.

you moaned in response and satoru shook his head with another smarmy sneer squeezing across both corners of his pink lips.

“uh huh. ‘s what i thought,” and satoru groans the moment he feels himself starting to shrink up from the inside.

his testes were nothing but wrung out, plump, and swollen underneath you, pap papping against your ass - preparing to be milked full.

the lewd imagery alone makes him grunt, feeling a vein prod down his shaft. satoru’s abs flex through his shirt before he sighs, bringing a kiss near the back of your neck. “hah, tell me where sweetheart. where do you want it, tell me.”

“fuck,” you moan, losing count of each time his pointed tip thrashes itself against the gummy barrier of your cervix.

satoru lowly chortles, panting heavily before making you lie straight down against the bed. “heh, fuck? that’s not an answer, silly.”

“inside, fuckin’ finish inside, ‘toru,” you blurt out, hearing your voice start to strain.

you’ve been moaning your head off, and your chords were starting to sound like they’ve had just about enough.

“nuh uh, manners sweetheart. don’t act brand new,” he teases, tracing a palm over the curved shape of your perked ass. he was in so deep, you felt the pressure press down on your tummy and it gave birth to an entire school of butterflies. you slip out another moan once satoru’s slowing his impactful thrusts down, still filling you to the brim before bringing his hips to a sudden halt. he’s back up against your ear before he whispers hoarsely, “ ‘pretty pleaseee’, c’mon baby. talk to me nice.”

with a guttural whine desperately trying to rip out the back of your throat, you grumble out a bratty, “fuck you.”

“hah, you’re a trip, y’know that?” and you gasp, feeling satoru snake a hand in between your thighs.

as he drags it down to where it stops near your stuffed pussy, he starts to rub his open palm against you. you moan, arching ever further as your ass presses into him. “it’s ‘fuck me’ ‘n yet you’re bent over for me, wet for me, sloppy for fuckin’ me,” and you felt yourself starting to throb quicker the more he spoke.

within each filthy sentence, his words drip with more erotic bass in his voice—

it’s sexy, and satoru’s feeling you trying to weakly grind your ass back against him so he could finish. it’s cute, the way how you’re so impatient but such a brat.

the woman he always knew - his wife.

“sato—satoruuu,” you mewl out, another whimper flying past your spit-slick lips. the gradual sounds of skin slapping resound against the walls of the spacious bedroom before it echoes. you moan once his cock stills itself inside - waiting for you, and with a defeated moan, you huff, “fine, pretty please.”

“pretty please what, sweetheart?”

he’s annoying, and yet here you were shamefully pulsating for him, arched over for him, and babbling his name over and over again like it’s some repetitive sacred mantra.

with a pouty scoff, you grumble out a subtle, “pretty please . . cum inside, ‘toru. please.”

“atta girl, use those words,” he purrs, and you moan once he gently grabs both of your unsteady hips. satoru braces your body underneath him and he grunts once he focuses back on his release. “god, this tummy,” he rasps, and you whimper once you feel his bare hands creep underneath your warm flat body.

satoru’s body remains on top of you - pounding you ruthlessly, and that’s when he softly presses a hand against your stomach. right there, he feels a tiny bulge of himself and it makes him grunt.

you were squeezing around his cock tight, slathering the entirety of his fat cock with your slimy slick before he groans. “mhm, you’d look so pretty plump ‘n round again for me, baby,” and satoru’s starting to feel it. his body - it shakes, damn near erupting as his high’s approaching at a hasty speed. “prettiest fuckin’ mommy. fuck, ‘m gonna give you so much.”

white lashes of his snap shut as he whines into your shoulder, still pumping thick inches into you from behind—skin slapping meanly and resounding off the walls of the room before he groans out a growling, “fuck!” you’re moaning right with him, his heat radiating against your skin. satoru’s strokes were hypnotic, his hips jerk against your ass as you’re barely keeping up. your insides felt churned all the way out as he still had a hand lying on the center of your tummy, drooling at the thought of filling you up again.

when it arrives, it’s quick - it takes him only a few long drawn-out seconds before he finally lets go. white brows of his twist together as he’s slowly pumping you full of ribbons ‘n ribbons of cum.

pearly slimy globs shoot into you, and you moan out a content sigh of your own as the muscles in your shoulders relax. “fuuuck,” you breathe, hearing satoru’s groans overshadow your noises. he’s always been far louder than you, especially whenever he was finishing.

he sounded pretty, angelic almost. satoru’s eyes flicker down toward the mess that’s being made, hearing the sloppy sounds of your pussy gargle and all.

bubbles of ivory-colored seed coat the outer folds of your entrance and you feel his warmth.

gristly silky ropes dribble into you all at once, creating a milky white ring that starts to form around his base. he’s missed filling you up like this - so so bad.

satoru nearly slips out a whine as he’s dumping his all into you—casually filling you to the brim, and that’s when his hips start to get even sloppier.

he was a mess, and you’ve milked him dry. he watches as your pretty pussy’s all filled and glossed - oozing with such amounts of cum.

a bit of stringy strands started to stick and glue against your thighs like adhesive, and he couldn’t help but pull out. it’s a squishy lewd ‘pop’ that sounds the second he drags his weighty cock out from between your creamy flaps. “god, look at how pretty she is after a good fillin’,” he huffs, and you’re still catching your breath once satoru flips you over. you’re lying on your back, meeting his gaze.

you’ve never seen him more in love - oh, he was whipped.

he didn’t even have to tell you those known words because his eyes already spoke for him. satoru rubs his leaky white-coated tip against your cunt, smearing his cum all over your entrance before sighing. after he does that, satoru licks his lips and that’s when you watch his head starting to disappear, going lower.

“can’t . . let it go to waste,” he grumbles, and you moan the second you feel the tip of his tongue starting to create a slope up your right thigh.

slowly, he’s lapping up the remnants of his cum that’s spilling down your skin. you almost forgot just how filthy he was. satoru had no shame, and he even moaned once the taste of his mess met against his tastebuds. “mmh.”

“s- satoru,” you heave, a hand finding its way through his strands again. his lips were soft, and he then started to create sloppy kisses. you moan, writhing against the stained sheets before gingerly bringing his head back up.

with a sleazy grin, his eyebrows raised before you finish your sentence, tangled fingers still fishing through his snowy unkempt tresses. “kiss me.”

“heh, that’s my girl,” he hoarsely, gradually closing the distance between you both. he’s been longing to kiss you, to plant his lips against yours. satoru groans in your mouth, feeling your arms wrap around his slim waist.

he starts grinding his hips against yours, his angered reddened tip blushing the more cold air sets against it. you’ve never felt more hot, and you could feel a smirk carve against satoru’s lips as he’s making out with you.

it’s intense - his tongue explores throughout your mouth, demanding entry as you moan.

satoru’s sweating pinballs, and he presses his forehead against yours. “fuckin’ woman,” he whispers, his voice getting more and more raspy.

you could taste himself on his tongue and so could he.

it was lewd - and yet, he only wanted more. more of you and so much of it..

satoru leans into your touch, sucking on your tongue as pairs of teeth occasionally clash and smash together before that’s when you abruptly pull away.

“h..hey,” he huffs, and he’s entirely flustered. satoru’s got heart eyes in his pupils, and he’s very much whipped. of course, though, he tries not to show it by keeping up his smug, arrogant façade. “what’s— ah.”

like earlier, you switch positions and push him lightly to where he lands on his back. pretty soon, you were sure trick-or-treating was gonna be over soon for the kids—satoru mentioned earlier how they were staying out for about maybe two hours.

as you straddle his lap again, finally listening to that annoying voice in your head, you made up your mind.

fuck it.

fuck him - literally.

“lie back,” you murmur, and you watch as satoru grows sheepish. you’re getting under his skin, and your sudden change in demeanor makes him hard for what was probably the umpteenth time of the night.

like a dog – he’s obedient, going manspread again before a groan escapes out of him. as your drenched flooded cunt hovers over his tip again, you lean in to pepper chaste kisses near his neck.

“oh, finally gonna ride me now, yeah?” satoru raises a brow, though you could tell how his cockiness was fading. he was sensitive - very.

it was almost painful, and now you were just teasingly grinding the entrance of your cock back ‘n forth against his flaccid length that rests against his tummy. “shit,” he swallows, idly bringing a hand toward your waist. he sees the look in your eyes before dryly chuckling. “f- fine. but this means . . you’ll give me another chance?”

you deadpan, playfully flicking his chest back before humming. “we’ll see.”

“i’ll take it,” satoru pants, trying to flash a smile but he ends up moaning the second you’re starting to align himself against his throbbing tip.

he’s still leaking gleaming white droplets from the sides of his dick, his veiny shaft being decorated with globs and globs of pre. with a guttural groan, satoru’s abs flex through his costume before he grabs your ass, giving your left rear cheek its nth spank.

“do your worst fuckin’ then,” satoru stares up at you, a whine desperately trying to leave his slick-spit lips before he squeezes your ass. as you moan, watching his swollen tip gradually disappear between your sappy folds, gojo sighs.

as your unstable hips try to steady themselves against him, you feel satoru rub the front jeweled part of his wedding ring on your sopping cunt one more time right as you prepare to ride him.

“m- make your husband proud, wifey.”

[lalunanymph]

ΉΣЯ & ƬΉΣ ƧΣΛ

༊ you ask rafayel how lemurians reproduce, and he can't wait to show you

✯ warnings; rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex underwater, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a dress and lingerie), mentions of alien genitalia, rafayel calls reader 'master' once, petnames (my little conch shell, my queen, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink (reader is obvs smaller than him, he's a goddamn mErmAID), OVIPOSITION, dirty talk, language, breeding, girl on top position, missionary, reader sucks his merman cock (lmao), dubious breathing underwater methods, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, slight spoilers for rafayel's myth if you squint, mild angst

✯ istg i am a zayne girlie but something about rafayel just makes me go feral

"𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒?"

The question stunned Rafayel from taking a bite of his souffle pancakes, his fork pausing from its journey into his now lax mouth. Sunlight continues streaming in past the French windows; the patrons of this cafe going about their day, oblivious to the malfunctioning celebrity artist amongst them.

A glob of whip cream freefalls off the metal tines and onto his plate. Those magnetic pink-blue eyes flash with a multitude of colors—like a sea-worn rock under the brilliant sun. 

However, as fast as your question hit him, he overcame it; no one could say that Mr. Rafayel, the art world's maverick and media-trained connoisseur, was slow in recovering his wits.

His signature teasing smile in place, Rafayel placed his fork back down onto the table.

Across from you, two friends were speaking in low tones and judging from their expression, unpacking their love lives with the sombreness of a priest reciting a divorce rite.

Rafayel blinked, tilting his head to the side. 

"Why would you ask, Miss Bodyguard?" 

He casually slung an arm over the back of his chair, a million dollar smile gleaming and ready. "Or, has something struck your most vivid imagination?" 

Laying it on thick, he couldn't even begin to disguise the gleam of his teeth—shining like the incisors of a great white after smelling fresh blood in the ocean. 

"I never thought you would be so sugges—ouch!"

Rafayel winced, and doubled over, rubbing his shin under the table. "What was that for?" 

You huffed, and fixed him a glare. "Don't embarrass me." 

"I was just joking."

"Wasn't funny." 

"Yeesh. You're really wound up about this, huh?" 

That infuriating smirk was plastered back onto his face; his boyish features making something in your chest squeeze. 

"Shut up and answer the question." 

He pretended to ponder on it for a moment. More color illuminates his stunning amethyst irises. Shining like jewels, only he knew the value of his true thoughts. 

Before you could retract your question and salvage this bright afternoon, Rafayel surprises you with his next words.

"Why don't I show you, my little conch shell?" 

You freeze. Scanning the area, you wondered if this was the right conversation to be having in such a brightly lit area. Granted, you and Rafayel were past the carnal stage —after being together for close to a year, your bodies were well-worn maps that lips and fingers could retrace and discover any time.

Fighting back a laugh, you shake your head.

"Is this another one of your racy propositions again?"

Rafayel merely smirked. "If that is how you wish to see it." 

Seriously now, you counter, "Will I have paint in my hair again?" 

Memories flash in your mind; of a large canvas, soft candlelight, and streaks of paint on the most random parts of your body found weeks after the deed was done. 

Your lover sits back, using one slender finger to cross over his heart. "I promise your hair won't go through such torment anymore." Despite your best efforts, your eyes trail to his broad chest, and the enticing V of his defined pecs.

As if sensing your eyes on him, Rafayel's mirth grows. "Looks like you can't resist much longer, I'll make you a deal—" 

He leaned in close—much too close—and you could smell the vanilla on his breath; the sunlight glinting off those purple irises softening with a look of warmth only he held for you.

"—come with me tonight to Whitesand Bay, and I promise you won't regret it." 

Muggy and balmy in the evening, Whitesand Bay wasn't exactly the ideal meet up spot for Rafayel to finally fulfill his promise and show you how mermaids reproduce. 

But, you showed up anyway.

Dressed in a light, silk dress to combat the heavy heat of the summer night, you cautiously made your way down to the docks, keeping your eyes and ears peeled for Rafayel. 

"You're here." He appeared a moment later, dashing as usual in his white button-down and pristine slacks. Dazzling under the half-light, you allowed him to take your hand and lead you right to a boat.

"We're not going for a to take a deep dive like last time, right?" Hearing the skepticism in your voice, he laughs.

"Of course, not. I paid Thomas a huge bonus last month and told him to buy a speedboat. For us to borrow, if you're curious." 

"Poor Thomas," you mused, letting him hold you close to his side as he helped you atop the board. "His boss is a tyrant... asking him to use his bonus for such lavish nonsense."

"Is it really a lavish nonsense if I get to have you here?" 

Rafayel's sincerity struck you mute. He breezed past your shocked figure, unaware of the effect he has on you. "Well? Are you going to continue mocking my methods of employment or are we going to do this?" 

Even though his chest was puffed and voice full of bravado, you could tell your sweet artist boyfriend was struggling with his nerves. The tips of his ears were bright red, a faint shadow of a pout on his lips. 

"Raffie," you whisper, taking his hand. He glanced at you, wide-eyed like a fish caught on the bait. "What're you so scared of? It's just you and me."

He lets you rub your thumb across his knuckles, tightening your hold on his fingers.

"I just..." he trails off. "... just don't want you to think I'm a freak. That's all."

Rafayel refused to look at you when he was this vulnerable, and you couldn't help the short giggle bursting past your defenses. He glared, and you quickly reached for his face, touching his cheek.

"Never," you emphasize. "I will never think you're weird. Ever. Besides, if you're a freak then I'm the weirdo in love with you."

Your dopey grin sets something aflutter in his chest, like ripples of ocean waves splashing across a strange shore. Rafayel smirks and takes your hand off his face, choosing to twine his fingers with yours. 

"Shall we make a move, then, my little conch shell?" 

"Rafayel..."

The sight before you stuns you with its splendor. Your beloved boyfriend had gone all out—picnic blankets, lighted candles, flutes of champagne, and spreads of seafood as far as the eye could see... arranged all across the flatbed of this hidden alcove where the sea kisses the land. 

In the distance, the gentle swishes of waves lapping at the shore greeted your ears, its waves illuminated faintly as if lit from within.

"Bioluminescent algae," Rafayel murmurs right behind you. His arms came to wrap around your waist, the heat of his breath fanning right across your exposed neck. "They only appear in the summer when the water is warm." You fight back a shiver, trying not to show how affected you were by his presence. 

"Oh." Dumbly, you weren't sure how to put your thoughts together, much less a coherent sentence. 

Sensing your speechlessness, Rafayel exhaled a laugh. "Come on. We should eat before the food gets cold."

There's a dip in his tone, something tinged with a darker emotion you barely had time to unravel before he was tugging you onto the picnic mat. The food was divine, his personal chefs going all out to satisfy both of your palettes. Conversation flowed easily like the champagne slipping down your throat, coaxing you to release the tightness in your chest in favor of bubbly giggles and flirty smiles.

Rafayel's cheeks were steadily growing pinker, and you were sure he would double over and pass out—forgetting about your brazen question—when you felt his hand on your thigh.

"Would you like to take a swim with me?" 

Memories of seaweed brushing your bare legs, Rafayel’s arms steadily around your waist as he led you past the shoreline fills your mind. Anything cool sounded like a blessing from this heat. 

Plus, he was a pretty good swimmer, as evident from what he truly was. Rafayel would never put you in harm’s way. 

Safe. That was the word. You always feel safe with him. 

“Yes.”

He takes your hand, gives it a squeeze and helps you stand.

Rafayel started to undress first. The hem of his expensive silk shirt reveals the fitted band of his equally expensive slacks—made by the best tailors in all of Linkon. Then, pale skin. It stretches, tightens over defined obliques, abs and then his impressively broad chest. 

Scattered across the sinew and muscle roping his torso were smatterings of moles and beauty marks. 

Someone once told you that these marks were spots past lovers used to love kissing. You idly trace your gaze over the one on his left pec, right over his heart. 

If Rafayel and you had been together in the past, you were sure that the spot over his heart would be your favorite spot to plant your lips on him. 

As furtively as you could, you tried not to gape at him, but completely failed.

Rafayel was a masterpiece made by the gods themselves, and you were the poor fool gaping at his altar; transfixed on the sharp V which led to a light dusting of his happy trail. 

His cock strains behind his slacks, bulging noticeably. You want to reach out and skim your fingers, eager to feel it twitch under your touch. 

"Well?" His gentle amusement tore your thoughts from their sinful vices. "Are you gonna just stare at me or are we going for a swim? Your pick, Miss Bodyguard." 

Showing that you were far braver than you felt, you stood up, shaky hands reaching for the straps of your dress. "Don't look at me." 

A surge of heat flooded your cheeks, your eyes resolutely turned to the side. Obediently, Rafayel followed your orders, though you could hear the cogs turning in his head. It's not like I haven't seen her naked before.  

But, this wasn’t the usual plotting, teasing and flirting you both would indulge in.

Something about the air tonight felt heavier. 

Intimate.

You swore Rafayel could pick up your heartbeat from where he stood. The heat on your cheeks spread down your chest, tingling on your fingertips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

In nothing but in your lingerie, you shift from foot to foot, feeling too vulnerable and open.

The sky above yawns wide, inky black jaws lovingly unfurling like a spread of velvet sheets. His hand is warm in yours, and you squeeze it, trying to hide how you were trembling. 

“Hey.” Rafayel sweeps you into his arms. Try as you might to fight off the nerves, they bubble up in a short squeak when your face meets his chest. “Relax, baby. You’re shaking like a bubble in the sun… don’t pop just yet.”

You find comfort in his scent—oceanic and musky—breathing him in. 

Do you trust me? Rafayel once asked when you both were drunk on a night out. 

Of course, I do. You flick his nose. Why wouldn’t I trust you? 

Even if I’m different? He fixes you with a look, lucid for someone who had just downed an entire champagne bottle. And I can’t be normal for you? 

Especially because you aren’t normal in the sense of its word… I trust you even more because you trusted me, first. 

Waves lap at your toes, and you shiver at how cool the water is. 

“Easy,” Rafayel coaxes you. He takes the lead, sinking into the soft sand first, never releasing his hold on you. 

You do as he says, a sailor to his siren call, except you knew in your heart you would willingly follow him till the ends of the world.

Once the water was up to your waist, Rafayel exhaled. “Stay here. I’ll be back.” 

You don't have time to protest when he dives into the waves, barely kicking up a spray. Eyeing the softly luminated sea surface, you dip your fingers into the warm water, watching a blue orb float in between your loose fists. 

“Hey.”

Startling, you look up to find him grinning, lilac hair darkened with salt water; holding a bundle of what you thought was tangled hair in his grasp.

“I know you hate the taste of seaweed, but this’ll help when we… get into things.” 

He ends in an awkward note, and you wondered what happened to the once cocky, and sure Rafayel you knew. 

Unfurling his clenched fist, he hands you one single strand. “Eat this. It’ll help you breathe underwater temporarily.” 

“What is it?” you sniff at the strange vegetation. 

“Hydroweed. It gives humans the ability to breathe underwater for up to an hour.”

Putting your faith in his words, you nod. Opening your mouth, you bite into the Hydroweed. 

The briny taste was overwhelming, its tough fibers making it difficult for you to chew. But, you manage to swallow it down. 

Instantly, you felt your throat closing, the air choked out of your lungs. “Rafayel—!” 

Strong hands grab your waist, dragging you under the foamy waves. 

You gasp, about to scream at him to let you go, when you took in your first deep breath underwater.

The world suddenly came to life. Bright blue orbs floated right in front of your face, and you reached for them, in awe at how vivid they glowed now you could see them up close. 

Down in the depths, the waves became hushed murmurs in the background, filling your ears with a ringing silence. 

“Are you okay?” Rafayel’s voice shot through the floating calm like a shout, and you cringed back in shock. 

“Sorry,” he laughs, and pulls you to his side. “It’s way quieter down here than up above because sound travels differently. Strange, huh?” 

You nod, not entirely sure if you could use your voice. As if he read your thoughts, Rafayel chuckles.

“Go ahead and speak, my little conch shell. I can hear you just fine.” 

You take a deep breath. “O-okay.” Growing confident and more comfortable, you relax in his embrace. “It feels… strange. Like you said. But, at the same time, I don’t entirely hate it.”

“Mhm,” he rubs your back, smiling reassuringly and wide. “If there are other Lemurians within a few miles, they can most likely hear you scream.”

His double meaning didn’t register until you felt his palms tracing your hips, teasing down your body to give your ass a fond squeeze.

“Hey—!” 

You swat his hands away, mute with embarrassment. “I-is that why you all live so deep in the sea? For privacy?” 

Rafayel hums. It’s a little off putting how clear his voice sounds, like you were listening to him through a pair of high-grade earphones. 

“Usually, Lemurians mate deep in the trenches where the light can’t find us. It helps to keep things more private and intimate. If not, we travel to other seas uninhabited by our species. I used to know a guy who dragged his wife to the middle of the Atlantic when they were trying for a family.”

Rafayel’s focus ebbs into the distance, a tinge of sadness in his tone that appears whenever he speaks of his long lost people and home. 

You take his hands in yours and squeeze, trying to draw him back from the precipice of his ruined memories.

“We could try…” you trail off, unsure if this was the right thing to say. “...to repopulate it?” 

Like your words were a trigger, you found yourself planted right on the ocean floor, soft sand cushioning your body.

You squeak, quickly darting your eyes to his, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

Rafayel’s usual glimmering pink-blue eyes were shadowed by a darker emotion; reminding you of glinting shark teeth or a blade of moonlight slicing through choppy water. 

“Don’t say that, baby.” Was it you, or did his voice drop an octave? 

Your Lemurian lover’s low reprimand made a shudder run down your spine, his half-mast eyes causing your stomach to flip.

“You don’t know how those words make me feel… my kind used to reproduce by the dozens—I can’t wait to see you bulging with my babies.” 

Wait… babies? 

With a capital ‘S’?

His mouth lands on yours, hungry and seeking. You kiss him back with as much ardor, lost in the sensations that you almost forgot what he had said earlier.

“Raf… Rafayel—” you gasp when he starts to dig his teeth into your neck, nipping down your jaw and collarbone.

Deft hands unclip your bra, the motion fluid like he has done this a million times before. From the corner of your eye, you see every article of clothing he took off you floating right to the surface; moonlight bouncing off the fragmented surface, playing across the broad expanse of his back. 

Your head swims with fuzzy thoughts long discarded when he pushes the plush fat of your tits together, licking and nipping around your areolas, ignoring how your nipples were already circling with need. 

“Raffie…” You fist his hair, trying to push his mouth to where you need him the most. “Don’t tease me.”

He laughs at your soft whine. “I need to make sure you’re prepared, my love.”

My love. Rafayel only called you that term whenever he was in the thick of his passion; it seems like you were about to witness the cumulation of your innocent question coming true.

Strong hands held you firmly while he eased down your body, planting fleeting kisses on every inch of your skin his lips could touch. 

Down in the deep, gasps and screams weren’t sounds, but vibrations; the sounds escaping your mouth resounding around your entwined bodies.

“Fuck,” Rafayel cussed once he reached the apex of your thighs. “I can’t wait to finally taste you underwater.” 

Barely giving you time to brace yourself, the broad stroke of his tongue melted through your folds. 

Never would you have imagined you would be eaten out right on the ocean’s bed—going deeper and deeper into the neverending blue. 

Rafayel’s lips were wrapped around your nub, sucking and caressing it with his tongue exactly how you liked it. Your smaller fingers sank into his hair, the other entwining with his own above your heart; back arched to give him everything you have.

“S’good,” he murmurs, verging on the edge of slurring. “I love you.”

His name tumbles from your mouth like a primal echo, calling him right to the edge of a bottomless trench.

Rafayel wasn’t afraid; he would traverse the deep beyond for as many chances to be with you as he could.

“Put your legs around my waist,” he whispers in between sloppy kisses back up your body. 

If someone were to tell you that your sweet boyfriend was literally making love to you on the bottom of the ocean, you would tell them a Wanderer had infected their mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his body emanating a faint glow. A distant memory claws past the thin membrane of your barely held together thoughts; moonlight bouncing off pink-blue scales, his unbearable body heat and a pearly sheen misting his eyes.

“Rafayel—” 

The change was imperceptible. At first, you couldn’t feel anything but the sinful sinking of his cock stretching out your cunt. 

Then, it hit you like a freight train.

His waist felt like it was expanding, pushing your thighs further apart. But, when you glanced down the line of your bodies, the length of his legs was replaced by something longer. Bigger. It distinctly had two fins attached to the end, bent at an angle to accommodate the position he was fucking you in.

“R-Rafayel—!” 

“Fuck,” he strains, lining his forehead with yours. “I-I’m scared of hurting you.” 

“N-no,” you force your thick tongue to relinquish the words. “You'll never.”

His skin grew harder under your touch, inches of pale expanses replaced by shiny scales. Minus his face, his limbs, back, chest and torso were completely covered by the armor-like toughness of multiple hardened plates. Where the scales couldn’t touch, they were bonded together by thin layers of lamella, giving his entire body an otherworldly sheen. 

Mesmerized, you titled his face towards you, marveling at the scattering of scales adorning his throat and jaw. 

“Wow,” you murmur, touching them. They weren’t as hard or sharp as you imagined; his scales had a delightful give you couldn't stop pressing down on. 

In response, Rafayel grunts. “Baby… It’s happening.”

You were about to part your mouth and ask him what was, when your eyes shot wide open. 

The place where you both were connected suddenly grew tighter, as if something was pushing against your insides. Your muscles instinctively tried to expel the foreign intrusion, tensing and tightening—it was a shot of fear unlike any other you had ever tasted. 

Panicking, you cried out, “Rafayel, stop!”

Immediately, he ceased rutting into you, breathing heavily. Anguished, pastel eyes peel clapped onto yours, a pearly sheen filming over them.

“Shit… shit, I’m so sorry…”

“What’s happening?” you blurt out, a tremble of fear in your question. “Are you… are you putting e-eggs in me?” 

“Eggs?” he sounds bewildered, and that causes you to be perplexed in turn. Breathing hard, Rafayel’s forehead thumps onto your sternum. He doesn’t refute you or confirm your suspicions. Instead, he takes in a deep, ragged breath, like he was trying to tame down a cresting emotion. “Did you actually think, for a single second, that I was going to leave eggs in you?” 

Before you can even speak, his broad shoulders start to shake. Rafayel’s quiet laughter roused your confusion and indignation; your brows furrowing together because he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Shut up,” it was your turn to be the whiner in this relationship. “You’re mean. It’s a valid question!” 

“Oh, baby,” he wheezes. One second, he was laughing, and the next, he lapsed into a quiet seriousness, the sudden mood change giving you whiplash. “I would never hurt you like that, my love. Trust me.”

Gently grasping your hand with his, he slips it down both your bodies, right to where you two were connected. “What I meant to show you, my little conch shell, is this.” 

He brings your hand between your own legs. You thought he was going to make you touch yourself, but when you feel something hard and distinctively not flesh-like bump your hand, you flinch back.

“Ssh, don’t be afraid,” he murmurs. “Go on and take a look, my love.”

Again with my love. 

Rafayel was either struck with nerves, or he was completely enamored with you at this moment. 

You licked your lips, tasting salt water on them and cautiously stretched your fingers to feel the strange object up. It was long and girthy, like a penis, except it wasn’t.

Steeling yourself, you risk a peek.

Gone was the smooth, veiny skin of Rafayel’s cock. His human one. 

In its place, was a thick length, riddled with ridges and bumps like an octopus’ tentacle. His very human appendage was always a stunner—slender (like his physique), veiny, with a hooked tip—but the sight before you (that strange and downright alien sight) blew your expectations out of the water. 

Your gasp reverberated around the pressing silence. Rafayel was quiet, waiting for you to speak. In turn, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his new genitalia. 

“Is that…” you struggle to piece together a coherent question. “Is that all… going inside of me?” 

Rafayel grunts. “Unless you don’t want me to, sweetheart.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, staring past the crest of his shoulder towards the shimmering, seemingly impenetrable ceiling of a world beyond the bubble you both created.

“I do,” you finally whisper, your confession rippling around the both of you, suspending your forms in an endless wave of mutual ecstasy. “I want this. I want you.”

Rafayel doesn’t bother to waste his time replying. You brace yourself, heels digging into his hips, clinging onto him with all of your strength. 

The first breach of his otherworldly cock inside of you felt like a touch of electricity up your spine. You cried out, nails digging into his scaly shoulders.

“Relax,” he paces you through the sensations. “I need you to relax for me, my love. I can’t get in if you’re this tight.” 

You gulp in a few deep breaths with your eyes screwed shut, and eventually, your heartbeat slows down. Sluggishly cracking your lids open, you catch the gleam in his pink-blue irises; locks of his iridescent hair floating around his serene expression.

The strange sensation was back, easing past your ring of muscle. You choke on a moan, trying to swallow your fear. 

“Ssh,” Rafayel murmurs. To distract you, he leaves feathery kisses on your cheeks, jaw and then, your lips. 

If the bottom of the ocean wasn’t enough to drown you, his kiss would. 

Rafayel… you whisper into the water. 

His name was a prayer dedicated to the Sea Gods on your tongue, your body sprawled out beyond your comprehension. Every line of you was taut with tension, the achingly slow stretch of his appendage plunging deeper and deeper into your heat had your head spinning like a whirlpool was threatening to suck you in. 

“Almost,” his harsh whisper clashes with your breath. “So good for me; you’re doing so good for me, my love.”

“Rafayel,” you mewled, the sea taking your tears. Hiccuping his name, you shudder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

Your fist clamped down on soft sand, your back arched, and finally—finally—you felt his hips clipping yours.

“Fuck.”

The both of you groan in unison. 

His kisses were still warm, flush on your parted lips. Rafayel shunted his hips forward, then back. Repeating the same motion. 

Again. Again. And again.

The sensation was unlike any other you had felt in this world. No cock could possibly compare to the ridges wrapped around his length, the blunt, elongated tip almost touching the deepest part of your body.

“Rafayel,” you cried in a thick voice, like your mouth was filled with cotton. “Oh, God…”

Your tits flushed to his chest, your fingers in his hair and his tongue twining with yours shook your inner world like a deep sea earthquake.

This wasn’t like your usual lovemaking sessions; everything was amplified, more sensitive and tangible.

God, was it all so tangible.

You could physically feel every scaly ridge under your fingertips. His modified cock dragging those ecstasy-inducing bumps across your walls. Even his taste was different underwater; like a briny, primal flavor which coated your tongue. 

“Y/N,” his moan more angelic than what you could handle. “I love you. I love you so, so much—” 

Rafayel choked, and you didn’t need to ask to know he was about to cum. 

The ecstasy of it all wrapped its tendrils around both your embracing bodies; a human and Lemurian entangled in a dance as old as time. 

“I love you,” you cry out, toes curling and your nails raking down his back. Rafayel grunts, and in the dim half-light of the ocean engulfing you, you swore you saw his frantic eyes shine like precious pearls.

The world was closing in, darkness seeping into the corners of your vision. 

You pushed on his shoulder, trying to get his attention; acutely aware that the ache in your lungs wasn’t because of his kisses, but of something else.

Something out of your control.

The call of the surface burned through your lungs, and you opened your mouth, about to scream for him to let you go, when it all slammed into you like a tidal wave.

Darkness exploded, splattering across your mind, and you heard his cry of your name, the sound now echoey and muggy.

There was movement. A sharp tug. What sounded like wind whistling through your ears. 

Through your snatches of consciousness, you were aware of the pushback both your bodies weathered through the wall of water; how the ocean was trying to hold you back.

As soon as the sensation appeared, it was shattered by a golden burst of fresh oxygen.

Gulping in mouthfuls of air, you yelled out in fright, blindly grappling across the writhing dark mess of endless ocean surrounding you. 

Rafayel! Rafayel!

You felt strong arms wrap around you, holding you in his embrace like how a father would cradle his child.

Close your eyes, you thought you heard him murmur in your ear. And don’t open them until I tell you it’s safe to.

Arms clamped around his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist, your intrinsic fear of the ocean made you trust his word. 

Gently now, you were bobbing across the water, the cool currents rushing across your bare skin. It felt like gelatinous cold drafts constantly hitting every body part. Staying true to his promise, you kept your eyes shut until you felt rough sand on your back; the waves receding from your body to lap at your toes.

Gasping, you peel your eyes open, lid by lid.

The alcove where he took you tonight was back in front of you. 

Rolling onto your front, you tried to stand, but only succeeded in stumbling back onto the sand; losing your sense of balance from countless minutes spent suspended in the ocean's mass.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.”

Rafayel was still in his Lemurian form, and this time, under the dim, flickering lights of the bay’s lanterns, you were stunned into an awe-inspiring disquiet.

The flickering warmth casted shadows over his iridescent scales, those once tough and gray plates under the ocean’s darkness glowing from the inside out with a pink-blue flame.

Half of his tail was still submerged in the water, and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze across the stunning length.

Easily a few feet long, you couldn’t even begin to wrap your head around the mental image of how majestic his entire Lemurian form would look underwater. It was just too bad the Hydroweed’s effects were over before you could even get to the good part.

Your thighs were chafing, drawing attention to your gapingly empty cunt. 

Pulling yourself to your knees, you came chest to chest with him. 

Rafayel’s saltwater soaked fingers grasped your cheeks, titling it up to inspect you. 

Trickles of water seeped down his face, darkening the sand with droplets of wetness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fraught and remorseful. “I lost track of time. I could’ve seriously injured you.”

“It’s okay.” The both of you flinched back from how hoarse your voice sounded. Clearing your throat, you struggled to put your mushy thoughts into words. “I… enjoyed it.”

Rafayel dropped his hands, his breathing growing ragged. “I should get back to normal—”

“No!” 

You stunned him with your vehemence, scrambling to grip his shoulders, clapping your crazed eyes onto his widened ones.

You’re acting like a mad woman. 

But, he didn’t say that to you. Rafayel grasped your hands, drawing them to his chest, pouring every drop of attention onto you. 

“I want to… try it… here.” 

You pieced together your incoherent request, and a part of you wondered—dreaded—if you had already lost your mind from the lack of oxygen and crushing deep sea pressure. 

Rafayel stared at you for a moment, unspeaking.

Then, he gently dragged you closer. Before you could even squeak, he had you straddling his waist. 

This time, it was your turn to peer down at him, curtains of your wet hair framing your face.

“Take me, then,” his voice was equally as hoarse as yours, though you suspected it wasn’t from ingesting enough saltwater to fill up your lungs. Trembling fingers touched your face, smoothing across your cheeks. “I’m all yours. I’ve been bound to you since the very beginning. You can take me, I won’t fight back. I told you I wouldn’t that night, don’t you remember? I’m keeping my word now.”

Something about the longing in his tone, how those pink-blue eyes yearned to swim in your soul, brought a lump to your throat. 

“Rafayel…”

Strong hands helped to guide your hips over his cock, easing you down with quiet praises and encouragement.

So good for me, baby. Look at you. Taking me so well. Wish I could paint this moment—you look so pretty. All for me. My love. My love. 

“R-Rafayel!” Thin red lines bloomed on his chest from your nails, your eyes rolling back into your head.

Without the sea’s buoyancy to support you, gravity took over, easing you down his bulbous cock.

Rafayel’s thumb circles your clit, rubbing it gently, soothingly, to get you wetter.

Your body felt like it was about to split cleanly into two—he was much too big for you. 

“C-can’t!” you whisper-cried. “I can’t take all of you—ngh.”

His mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking along the fleshy nubs until they were coated with his spit and tightening obscenely; an erotic outline lit by the bay's dim lantern lights.

“You can,” he mumbled in between your breasts. “I know you can.”

The rough strip of his tongue slid from your sternum towards your neck, pausing right at your pulse point. Sharp bites bloomed on your neck from his teeth, and you shiver from the throbbing pain going straight to your clit. 

That strange, heightening sensation was back. You felt much too sensitive, like a lightning rod trembling from an impending electrical storm.

One touch could’ve made you explode.

Rafayel brought your lips to his, tangling his tongue down your throat; stoppering your cries. 

Warm, smooth, distinctively human palms caressed your hips and thighs. 

Almost in, baby, he whispers in between kisses. I can feel every inch of you. 

You flit your eyes to where both your bodies meet, in mute shock from how deep he already was in you.

“You like it, baby?” he breathes warmly on your jaw. “Like watching yourself sit on my cock?” 

Fuck. Stop teasing me, you want to whine. But, the words won’t slip past your clenched teeth. 

His name bounces across the soft sand, the wind picking up and making you shiver. 

The warm glow of the lanterns spill across his sharp cheekbones, planes of his jaw. You’ve never seen someone look this beautiful under a hazy night sky before.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you feel him murmur against your lips. “Say the word, baby. We’ll stop.”

You’re panting now, trying hard not to break your progress and having to start over. Rafayel was about halfway inside, and you forced your body to push and receive. 

Guh, you gasp, tossing your head back. 

“Love seeing you stretch yourself out on my cock, baby,” Rafayel mutters hoarsely—passionately. 

The implicit meaning in his words is clear: I love how you give yourself so willingly to me.

For Rafayel, you would do this ten times over until your body memorizes him. Willing your cunt to make a home for his monster cock even if it would break your spine.

“Almost,” he reassures in a low groan. “You feel s’good baby.”

He’s sweating as well, bullets of exertion not to break his composure and fuck into you mingling with the last of the seawater droplets rolling down his temples.

Rafayel, Rafayel, you whimper his name over and over. Oh God…

Something bubbles inside of you, thick and hot. You think you’re about to spill over, thighs shaking from the effort of holding yourself up. 

Your lover groans, low and lusty, his eyes trapped right in between your legs. “You’re so wet—look. Your little pussy loves me, baby.”

You glance to where he’s telling you to look, and nearly pass out from the embarrassment. 

Thick, pearly droplets are oozing down his merman length, and you would’ve thought it was from him had you not felt your walls start to twitch—more wetness gushing and trickling down to stain his pelvis.

The added lubrication made it easy enough for you to bottom out on his cock, and both your mutual cries of ecstasy reverberated into the dark night.

Shit, shit. Too big. You’re too big for me.

“You can take it,” he mouths your earlobe, kissing down your cheek. “Doing so well for me.”

Your breathing trembles, like a question hanging in thin air. Can you fuck me now? 

Rafayel scoffs and bumps his nose with yours gently. “Always making me do the hard work. You really are my spoiled, pretty princess, aren’t you? Or…” his voice drops, the heat in his eyes almost scorching you. “Do you want to be my good girl?”

You gasp: I do. I want to be your good girl.

He hisses when you start to shift your hips, the motion making your clit catch on his pelvis. You mewl, leaning forward to repeat the same motion; trying to chase after that spark of pleasure over and over again.

Those big, smooth palms cradle your face, pushing your hair back.

Rafayel’s jaw is tense, like he’s biting down on some inner demon you can’t see. 

That’s it. That’s my good girl. 

Your nails leave white crescent moons on his pale shoulders as you ride him, every bump and ridge of his cock brushing your sweet spot. He was so deep in you, almost plunging right past your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

An arm sweeps you right to his chest, your cheek pressed atop his heartbeat. Rafayel thrusts his hips up, meeting your sensual grinding.

Spit pools in the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as you let your Lemurian lover have his way with you. You part your mouth, mellifluous moans touching the air and turning it golden to his reddened ears.

I love you. His whispers against your throat, the sting of his teeth soothed by the sweetness of his praise and adoration. I love you so much, my good girl.

“You fuck me so good,” the words tumble from your split mouth, recklessly thoughtful. “No one can fuck me like you.”

Yeah, he pants, mouthing your pulse point. Cream on this cock, baby. It’s all yours. His hands span across your lower back, traversing down to grip your ass and spreading you wider for him.

Give me everything you’ve got, Princess. 

His cock plunges so deep inside of you, and you were sure that if he came right now, he might’ve knocked you up in one try. 

All yours. Rafayel was all yours. 

You lean up, arms resting on either side of his head as the sand bites into your skin. 

Rafayel thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. He watches, mesmerized, as your tits sway right in front of his face. You’re fucking him now, meeting each fluid thrust he had to give; bouncing on his lap like you were riding out a desperate heat.

His thighs tense, and he feels your pussy clench down on him. 

Fuck, you stutter, and so do your hips. I’m close. 

He squeezes your ass, smacks it with both palms.

Your breathing catches, and you ride him even harder. Faster.

“Fuck,” those pretty eyes were hooded, latched on your bouncing tits and stiff nipples. “Look so good fucking me—you love using me, don’t you, Master?” 

You gasp, and Rafayel feels your composure slip when you squeeze down on him. He almost cums right there and then. But, he fights it off, needing to see you lose control first.

The sight of your stickiness frothing at the base of his cock nearly makes him white out in pleasure, getting messier with every stroke of his non-human cock. 

He’s never had a human before in his Lemurian form, but it’s something straight out of a wild, wet dream.

Your skin was so, so soft in comparison to his hard scales that he’s almost afraid of hurting you with them.

But, you prove you’re made of tougher stuff when you lean back, bracing both hands on the girth of his tail. 

Showing off your puffy pussy and glistening hole taking every inch of him like it was made for this and only for this purpose.

He feels himself drowning in you. No one has ever taken him this deep. His mouth falls open, a low grunt touching your hot ears. Good girl… good fucking girl. His praises make you warm all over. You would do anything and everything to earn his devotion. But, Rafayel doesn’t make you do it—he gives it to you freely. One large hand smoothed over your belly, your tits, pinching your nipples and smirking inwardly when you gasp and groan. 

Breathy whimpers resound, his thumb on your clit rubbing out full body shudders. The sky above spins, like he’s being sucked into and about to be spat out of a whirlpool.

His eyes bounce from the softness of your belly, your tits jiggling, and then back down to your pretty pussy taking all of him in.

“Like what you see?” 

Rafayel flits his gaze back up. Your eyes were two pools of smoldering heat, about to burn him alive.

You grab his wandering hand, pressing it right over your stomach. “I can feel you here.” He twitches, and you gasp. “So, so deep.”

Sloppy sounds of your bodies meeting; you were so, so wet and perfect. Your pussy was gushing, fighting between squeezing him out or sucking him in. 

I’m gonna cum, baby, he grunts. The vein in his neck tightens, and your whimper almost sets him off.

Gonna cum so deep inside of you. Make you so round and perfect with my babies. You’re my Queen, aren’t you? My love. I’ll love you until the seas dry up. You’re mine forever. 

It’s that tinge of possessiveness which does you under. You were putty to his deep, gravelly voice; those words of unending devotion and sin.

His thick, dark lashes flutter, those pretty eyes rolling back into his head.

Fuck, baby. He grabs onto your hips, looking for something to steady him. “I need you… I’m gonna cum,” he whines, and it’s pathetic really—how much you’ve affected him.

If he was a lesser man, Rafayel might’ve called you his weakness. But, you were more than that.

You were the reason he woke up in the mornings. The reason he relentlessly pursued the passages of time and space to find you; you were the muse to his madness. 

“Do it for me, baby,” you pant, and fall back into his arms. Chest to chest, lips to lips, every breath you took was exhaled by his own. “Cum for me.”

Make me yours forever, Rafayel.

The world goes white, and your pussy quivers around him, an ending opera note suspended in mid-air.

It comes crashing down, slo-mo turned to a normal pace when time rushes back to engulf your sluggish shore.

His cum fills you up, thicker and running hotter than a human’s. It felt strange; pulsating inside of you, glob after glob. Your pussy shudders and breaks, physical and emotional walls all torn down for him; voice hoarse and edged with mania. Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel…

You mumble his name like a prayer while he drags your lips to his, kissing you like an oath.

He feels you shudder around him, growing weaker like a kitten. It would be so easy for him to pierce your neck with his teeth, cut through your jugular with his scales. 

But, Rafayel tames his primal, oceanic urge to destroy, reining it back in favor of nosing your hair.

“Felt so good,” he mumbles tiredly. “Are you okay, my little conch shell?”

You hum, shift your hips. The bulbous head of his cock brushes the opening of your cervix. “I can’t believe I took you so deep.” You drift off and in a few minutes, feel him go from soft to half-hard in you again. 

“Are you still turned on, baby?” you ask innocently, voice soft and frayed with exhaustion. Rafayel swivels his face away, trying to hide his red ears.

“N-no.”

You huff a laugh, using all the strength in your jelly-like limbs to sit up. Something catches your attention, and in the corner of your eye, you pick up the dark strands, fisting it close to your mouth.

Rafayel watches, unsure what you’re intending to do. He sits up, squints, and almost gasps.

That’s enough Hydroweed for you to last a night under the ocean. 

He’s about to stop you, when you ingest it all in one go.

The second you convulse, he pushes you back into the ocean, your gasp of relief second to only his bruising kiss completely devouring your mouth. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, and your back meets the ocean floor again. This time, you take the lead, rolling him off to straddle his waist again. 

Rafayel glances at you, gorgeous pastel eyes hooded. 

He notices how comfortable you’re getting underwater; how easy it is for you to scoot down his torso, your playful smirk making his cock and heartstrings throb. 

“Baby—” he mumbles, only to be cut off by the sight of you kissing his bulbous tip.

Rafayel isn’t a believer of god per say (coming from his own experience as a retired sea deity), but at the sight of your pretty lips skimming his merman tip, he thinks he could give religion another shot. 

What’re you doing? His whisper carries across the currents.

Ssh, you hush him, rimming the tip of your tongue around his flushed head. You don’t miss how his tail twitches, cock now painfully at full mast. 

Isn’t it obvious? You mumble, kissing the tip reverently. I want to taste my Lemurian's pretty cock.

He seizes, back arching, putty in your hands when you take him down as deep as your little throat allows. 

What else you couldn’t fit, you used your hands to jack up and down.

Soft hisses slip past his clenched teeth. “You’re driving me crazy, baby.”

Mhm, you slur, flickering your hazy, fucked out gaze to his flushed face. Tastes so good, you whisper, and Rafayel was glad the ocean didn’t show the line of drool that usually trickles down your jaw; your fucked out expression which would make his control snap instantly. 

You would need to consume at least three more mouthfuls of Hydroweed before he was fully done with you. 

Luckily, Thomas’ yacht came with some fluffy towels.

Rafayel had wrapped you in one while he laid the other under your back; content to curl his tail around you, still in his Lemurian form. The honeywood deck was warm to the touch, the balmy evening offering comfort and respite from hours underneath the cold, dark ocean. 

“So…” he quips, not one for stewing in silence. “Questions? Thoughts? Comments?” 

You fight back a smile. 

“Was there really eggs put up inside of me? Swore I felt a lot of round and hard things sloshing inside.”

“That… would be my tip.” Rafayel flicks your nose when you scoff. “On a scale of one to ten, how freaked out would you be if I said I did actually put some eggs up in your body and it had to be fertilized so the rest would start falling out of you like gelatinous goo until the only one takes?” 

You blink. “Pretty freaked out, if I’m being honest.”

“So… a nine?” 

“More like—” you lifted your hand and made a so-so motion. “—a six, at best. I’m kinda used to your bullshit by now, babe.” 

“Hey!” Rafayel tugs on the ends of your hair, making you laugh. Growing serious now, he murmurs, “So, you’re absolutely fine with being knocked up with a half-Lemurian kid?” 

“Depends,” you mumble mildly. “Am I the first one you’re doing this with?”

Barely missing a beat, he nodded. “The only one. Never had time to sleep around. Always busy running a kingdom. Blah-blah. Typical God of the Sea stuff. No biggie.”

“Aw,” you coo, “I’m so honored you waited for me.” 

You expected him to scoff or roll his eyes, not lapse into a serious quietness. Rafayel’s silence stretched on, and you perched your jaw on his shoulder.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Hmm.” Rafayel tugs you closer, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his cheek. His lips are inches apart from yours, warm breath touching your parted mouth. You taste him on your tongue, invigorating yet comforting.

A well-worn sign of home. 

“Just that I would do it all over again. Wait for you, I mean. Even if it takes a long, long time.”

A few centimeters and 800 years stand between the two of you. 

But, for tonight, you breach the distance and kiss him, grateful that you had been given this cherished memory together with Rafayel.

— rbs and feedback are appreciated !!

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.

[velvrei]

can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 

a/n at the end

tell me more

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments

a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy

nsfw below the cut!

you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.

meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.

the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.

you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.

as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.

“you guys done yet?”

both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.

a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.

"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.

"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."

"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.

"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.

wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.

"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.

“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.

“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.

“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.

wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.

before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.

“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.

you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.

they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.

“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”

wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”

you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.

the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.

when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.

you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”

johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”

you sighed. “well i have.”

logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”

logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.

after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.

she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.

“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.

“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.

it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.

you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.

the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.

when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.

they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.

“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.

logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.

as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.

“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.

“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.

“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”

he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”

about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.

“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.

“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.

wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.

“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”

wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”

wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.

“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.

“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”

your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.

you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”

you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.

“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”

logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.

wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.

you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.

logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.

you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.

“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.

“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”

“yes.”

logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.

logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.

when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.

logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.

when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.

you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.

wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.

wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.

you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.

you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.

you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.

you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.

you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.

when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.

"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.

you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.

"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.

"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.

you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.

logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."

you could tell something was up. something different.

you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.

“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”

as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.

which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”

and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.

you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.

later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.

"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.

"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.

"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.

"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.

after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.

you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.

it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"

the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.

cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.

as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.

was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.

you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.

you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.

"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.

he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.

finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.

"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.

"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.

“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."

logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."

you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.

he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."

you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."

with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.

when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."

his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.

"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."

his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.

logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.

you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.

you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.

another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.

he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.

you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.

the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.

as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.

you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.

you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.

as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.

you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.

you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.

logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.

he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”

his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.

he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.

you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.

you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.

you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.

you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.

“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.

“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.

“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”

logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”

the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.

his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.

“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.

he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.

“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.

“you gonna make me guess?”

with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.

“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”

you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.

“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.

he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”

your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.

“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.

“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.

“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.

you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.

you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”

your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.

“what did you just say?”

you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”

your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.

“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”

your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.

he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.

you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.

"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."

he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.

you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."

you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.

"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.

"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.

"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.

"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”

you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.

"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."

logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.

the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.

“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."

his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.

“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.

his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.

he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.

he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.

his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.

he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."

his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.

his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.

he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.

his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.

the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.

you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.

"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.

"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.

but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.

"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.

"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.

your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.

"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.

he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"

his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."

his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.

he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.

you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.

he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.

his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.

even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.

he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.

“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.

“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.

“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”

you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.

“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.

all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.

“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”

your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.

“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.

"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.

the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.

"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.

your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.

"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.

he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.

he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.

you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.

your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.

you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.

he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.

his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.

he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.

he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.

instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.

he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.

he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.

he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.

“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!

[loveanddeepthroat]

Baby Blues

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - In the first two weeks of being new parents, the dynamic hasn’t been quite what you and Sylus expected. He’s eager to be involved, but your daughter doesn’t seem to have warmed to him.

Word count - 2.7k

⚠️Warning⚠️ - Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth. Hurt/comfort, fluff, and a little sprinkle of angst.

Your newborn didn’t like Sylus.

It sounded ridiculous, but you know he was thinking it too. You didn’t have the gall to say it out loud—not that it even needed to be said. The fact was definitely lingering between you both.

You never thought much of why she would wriggle and kick up a storm in your stomach whenever he touched the swell of your belly, but you now had an inclination that it was because she didn’t like his hands there.

It was strange and upsetting, but he didn’t seem too hurt by it so far, only silently helpless as he watched you do everything. You were two weeks postpartum, so your emotions were already all over the place. It seemed as though Sylus was holding his own feelings back to make room for yours, and when you had asked him about it, he simply kissed your forehead and reassured you that he was fine. All while your screaming daughter cried for you against his chest.

Not that he opened up to you all that often. You did manage to get things out of him with a push sometimes, but he was like an unyielding gate, refusing to open to anyone.

Your exhaustion was only adding to the toll on your fragile emotions. The baby only wanted your touch, and sleep was almost impossible for you because of that very reason. Only you could feed her. Only you could soothe her. Only you could touch her.

That was one thing that was really getting to Sylus. The bloodshot whites of your eyes as you rocked the fussy newborn to sleep and fed her at all hours of the morning. The barely touched plates of food that ended up stone cold and in the bin. Not to mention the completely non-existent ten minutes you needed to at least have a wash without having to run out of the shower to her aid.

He must have felt quite useless in the weeks where you should be recovering, but he didn’t want you to worry about his feelings by indulging you in his thoughts. 

Your pregnancy had been smooth, ending with a good twenty-seven hours of rather torturous labour, and pushing that went on for an agonising two hours. It had all been worth it, though. Your little bundle of joy with tufts of platinum hair had finally greeted you both with a piercing wail, but eased her protests once placed against your heaving chest.

You just wished she would settle with both parents.

It was another day of desperate wailing, your arms becoming so heavy with the exertion of having no option but to hold her. You tried to put her in her pram for Sylus to push her around for a while, but her cries only increased to the point of her little face turning purple. You couldn’t sit and just listen to it, and you absolutely would not ignore her—no matter how much Sylus pushed for you to go and get some sleep.

“She wants me,” you say for what felt like the millionth time that week.

Sylus was evidently reluctant to stop trying, but he wouldn’t keep you from her. He conceded with a defeated huff, watching your every move as you gently lifted your screeching daughter out of the plush pram. Her screams died down quickly as you placed her against your chest, her ear-piercing wails whittling down to soft whimpers.

“Of all the dangerous paths I’ve crossed and violent challenges I’ve encountered, it’s our newborn daughter who finally defeats me,” he mumbles quietly, trying to make a lighthearted joke about it.

You tried to smile at his attempt to add a bit of humour to the situation, but the comment only made you cry. Hard.

“Hey.” He immediately stepped toward you, rubbing a large hand up and down your back soothingly. You had to give it to him, his patience with you in the last two weeks had been immaculate. “Don’t cry, sweetie.”

You couldn’t stop, your ragged breaths and shaking shoulders refusing to relent. “I d-don’t get it,” you bawl. “What are we doing d-differently?”

Sylus sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand continued to rub soothing circles against your back to ease your upset. “Well, she did live inside you for nine months. Besides, you didn’t exactly like me either when we first met.”

He smiled faintly, tilting his head down to capture your gaze. Despite the obvious tease, he still seemed to be holding himself back. It was frustrating him more than he wanted to admit to you. You knew he was protecting your feelings, but you wished he would just show some sense of vulnerability.

You don’t dare set your sleeping daughter down in her moses basket, knowing full well that she would just wake straight back up. So the rest of the afternoon is spent with your tiny newborn curled up against your chest, a few feeding and changing breaks in between.

Once the day turned into night, nothing in the world sounded more appealing to you than a hot shower, a hot meal, and a hot cup of tea. But letting her scream and cry while you did that was not an option. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on Sylus.

He didn’t leave you unless he absolutely had to throughout the day. You watched him every time he heard a little whimper from the baby, his hands flexing and twitching. Every time you had to get up to do something for her, he was either at your back or side.

He wanted to help.

The chef brought through a very large bowl of marinated chicken and pasta for you, upon Sylus’s instruction. As soon as the bowl was set on the little table beside your recliner chair, you almost began drooling. You hadn’t managed to eat much at all in the chaos, and Sylus wasn’t amused when you didn’t even get the chance to finish the two biscuits he’d brought you earlier in the day.

You reached a careful hand over to the fork, not even lifting it before your daughter began to wriggle and whine in your other arm. Dropping it immediately, you retract your hand, only making it halfway back to the fussy newborn before long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“No,” Sylus says firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Your initial response is to immediately go on the defence. “She’s cry—”

“I know she’s crying,” he interrupted tightly. “I know. But you’re going to eat while your food is hot, and you’re going to do it without our screaming daughter on your chest.”

“But—” 

“No buts.”

He had that commanding look in his eye, the one that would intimidate most, but was only used on you when he was especially adamant on you doing something necessary for yourself. 

You were a little relieved to see him so passionate, if you were being honest. He had been treading on eggshells to not upset you or the baby for fourteen whole days, and it wasn’t good for anyone. You felt the tension on him every time you both managed to get into bed together for more than five minutes. He needed this little outburst.

“This needs to stop now. I’m going to figure her out, and you are going to eat. Alright?” His tone left no room for argument, and the more your daughter protested against your intention to eat, the more hungry and tired you felt.

It wasn’t easy, but you handed her off to him carefully, swallowing a lump in your throat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her distressed little face as Sylus attempted to cradle her.

You were practically twitching, your legs about to push the footrest of the recliner down to retrieve her in the first thirty seconds she was away from you. Sylus noticed immediately, and pushed it back up with his foot before you could close it down fully.

“She’s not in any danger,” he said calmly, but his whole body was visibly tense. “She’s right here, I won’t leave the room. Just eat, sweetie.”

You wanted to protest further, but he wasn’t going to yield this time. His eyes remained trained on you until you finally sagged back into the chair, and it wasn’t until you picked up your fork that he finally turned away, focusing on the distraught newborn kicking up a storm against his chest.

He held her the way you did, one hand cupped over her head to keep it steady while the other hand softly patted her back. Why she didn’t want to be near him was an utter mystery to you, he wasn’t doing anything incorrectly. 

You couldn’t eat while the two most important people in your life were quite clearly in a distressing situation before you. “Are you alright?” You asked him gently, hoping that he would answer you.

“I will be if you eat,” he quickly responded, not looking at you.

Sighing, you stab a slice of the chicken onto your fork, just looking at it for a moment. Your brain had managed to kick itself into gear as you forged a new approach to his silence. 

This was an opportunity to head in the right direction.

“I’ll eat if you speak to me.”

Blood red eyes shot in your direction, an eyebrow raised. “Blackmail?”

You quickly shook your head. “You were right, this does need to stop. Starting with you shutting yourself off from me.” 

“Eat.”

The forked piece of chicken points straight at his unamused face. “Talk.”

He shook his head a little in clear annoyance, the stress consuming him. Your daughter continued to wail, immune to the warmth and safety of his arms. He was basically trapped after promising to remain in the room with you.

Your bleary eyes held his irises of rubies, neither of you conceding. It was a mental challenge to ignore the fragrant aroma of garlic and fresh basil beneath your nose, but you were not eating until at least one of the two beautiful people before you had calmed down.

Sylus visibly swallowed, finally giving in as he noticed your lack of a bluff. “Do you think she knows?” His voice was quiet, barely heard over your newborn’s cries.

“Knows what?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, nodding his head towards the piece of chicken on your fork. You shovel it into your gob, eager for him to continue.

His eyes flicker down to your daughter before he speaks again. “Do you think she knows that I’ve done terrible things? Do you think that’s why she doesn’t like me?”

“I—” you grumble and roll your eyes as he nods to your plate of food again, waiting for you to take another mouthful that you end up having to speak through, “I don’t see how she could. Is that why you’ve been so quiet?”

The corner of his mouth curled upward ever-so-slightly. “Missing my tongue, kitten?”

You couldn’t help your own smile as his shoulders sagged a little from where they were practically touching his ears. It wasn’t often that he opened up to you like this. You almost always had to pry or throw in a proposition to coax him into speaking.

You took another bite of your food, moving the plate from the small table to your lap. “Do you really think she doesn’t like you?”

His smirk faded away quickly, a gentle thumb brushing over your daughter's head. She continued to cry, but the volume had dropped a little. “Do you not think that?” He asked.

You didn’t know how to answer that question. To tell the truth, you did think that, but not for the same reason he was thinking.

“I think she may be a little attached at the moment. We’re very different shapes and sizes. Maybe she feels—”

“Unsafe?” 

His tone had dropped an octave—something you didn’t think was possible considering the already bone-chilling vibrations of his voice. Never before had you witnessed him in a state of such vulnerability. He was insecure about this, and it was finally starting to show.

You went to stand up to be near him, but he immediately stepped forward to halt your movement.

“Eat.”

Not wanting to lose this free-speaking Sylus you had barely met before, you did as he said, twirling a fat mouthful of pasta onto your fork for extra brownie points.

You both remained in silence for a few moments, only your fork scraping against the bowl in your lap marrying with the sounds of your baby’s cries surrounding the small sitting room.

Sylus’s gaze didn’t leave the newborn cradled in his arms, a gentle sway in his hips as he tried to keep her moving. All you could do was study his composure, seeing it as it cracked.

After a moment, he looked back at you. “I don’t want to keep failing you.”

You coughed on the mouthful of the creamy pasta at his words, completely in awe of his confession.

Failing you? How did he get to that conclusion?

“You’ve done everything for her,” he continued, not allowing you to immediately reassure him. “I want to be able to do everything, too. For both of you.”

The all too familiar sting in your wet eyes built in intensity by the second, and you quickly found yourself sniffling.

Not only was he insecure about your daughter not feeling safe in his arms, but he felt that he’d failed you both in the past two weeks. It was heartbreaking for you to hear.

“Don’t cry—”

“You’re…fuck, Sylus. You’re not failing anyone,” you tuck your fork back into the pasta with a loud sniffle, ignoring his glare that silently demanded that you continue to eat. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

He looked entirely reluctant to answer, his head dropping back down to stare at his tiny twin. You didn’t want him to stop speaking again, so you quietly picked your fork back up, hoping it would capture his attention.

The silence stretched between you as you made the effort to eat for his sake. Even your daughter's cries became a little weaker—like she was pitying him.

He didn’t look at you as he said, “I’m the bad guy. The boogie man. The kind of monster that parents threaten their kids with visits from in the middle of the night if they don’t brush their teeth before bed.”

“Not in our story, you’re not,” you quickly reassured him earnestly. “You’re the husband and father who keeps the monsters away from your family. That’s the only Sylus she will ever know. The real one.”

He still didn’t look up from the newborn, now almost completely silent in his arms, but you catch a subtle bob in his throat. You didn’t need him to respond to you. You knew you had said the right words to soothe that self-deprecating thought in his complicated mind. You could see it.

“Have I told you how perfect you were two weeks ago,” he asked, knowing full well that he’d told her every day since then.

Your mouth curled into a soft smile. Even after all these years together—after welcoming your first child into this scary, yet beautiful world—Sylus had no trouble giving you butterflies.

“I think you might’ve mentioned it,” you hummed softly.

And on that very note, the baby was fast asleep in his hold for the very first time in two whole weeks. His face didn’t reveal anything, but you knew he was relieved. All he wanted to do was make this easier for the both of you.

Finally, you had managed to figure out what the problem had been all this time.

“You were too tense,” you point out quietly, noticing how openly at ease he now was. “That’s what she didn’t like.”

He hummed in response, unable to tear his gaze away from the sleeping babe in his arms. You didn’t say anything further, letting him enjoy that special moment in peace while you proceeded to enjoy the rest of your meal.

Despite the challenges of becoming new parents, things were going to be alright from that point onwards.

A/N - Hello! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot, thank you so much for reading. Just to let you know, I do take requests ❤️