Tumgik
#but man; they meant so much to me and it was such a SIMPLE thing that could have changed it all that i can't help but feel a LITTLE
itachiiwrites · 2 days
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Love me, love me, love me, love me more!
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Pairing: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Warnings and Content: MDNI (I'll haunt you, seriously), yandere themes, dubious consent, stalking, obsession, murder, gore, sex, delusional satoru, he's unhinged and does not care about consequences as usual, creampies (lots), gojo has a breeding kink, masturbation, perv gojo, sex, fingering. Dead dove.
Plot : Megumi has a new nanny and Satoru is so so..lovesick.
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Yandere!Satoru knew he fumbled the moment he fell in love with Megumi's nanny. He had hired you because he couldn't provide for the time and sufficient emotional care that a second grader needed to be a normal person. After all that the boy went through and then being under care of someone like him, Satoru didn't think that his Gumi-chan would ever be normal.
But then he met you, you were everything he was not. Gojo Satoru was impulsive, eccentric, the strongest, he shone so brightly that the sun was put to shame. And you were so normal, so mundane, you simply seemed to blend in with everyone like a lovely, plain chrysanthemum that could mix in with every bouquet.
there was truly nothing special about you in comparison to him.
Perhaps that was why he found you so beautiful. You weren't complicated, you were too simple and perhaps this absence of simplicity was what made his fast paced, glorious life so lack luster.
He knew he had to have you.
One thing you realised about Yandere!Satoru is that, he is a child in a grown man's body. You had seen him being much more petulant than Megumi, but with time your surmises around him had reduced and your edges had softened. You would see the flash of tiredness in his eyes sometimes, something about those azures in those moments would tell you a piece of his story. You didn't ask a lot but you knew. He was tired.
Being a full-time nanny to Megumi also meant, keeping meal preps ready. It had become a habit to put together a few extras after noticing that Gojo would often make it a point to eat them. He probably ate it, dead in the night when he was back from his daily missions. No one witnessed his joy of eating a homecooked meal at 3AM.
Yandere!Satoru who would take the advantage of your softened demeanor towards him and flirt with you shamelessly even after seeing the ring adorned on your pretty little finger. He kept affirming to himself that it wasn't real and whatever he would imagine, would materialize to be true.
"You do a terrific job, looking after Megumi you know?" He'd muse, in the usual teasing tone of his as his hand trails to your chin, gently tipping your head up so you'd look into his eyes and his eyes only, his gaze intense and unwavering.
"I can't help but wonder if there is room in your heart for me too~"
But then his playful demeanor would drop away when his eyes would fall onto that pathetic, miserly looking gold band after you'd tell him to stop flirting with you with finality in your tone. That ring wasn't even high in carats, it was an alloy and yet you would it wear it such pride. It would tug at his heartstrings, his darling deserved so much better.
"I see, didn't realize that, miss.." He lied through his teeth with such insouciance and a smirk, masking his disappointment as if even a petite speck on your arm would be amiss with his six eyes
Yandere!Satoru, who was never religious but started obsessively manifesting you after learning about your husband. What a hassle. Why couldn't he just have you, like everything else in his life?
Yandere!Satoru who would think of you riding him to tears, closing his eyes to conjure the lewd image of your tits bouncing as he fucked you upward, anchoring his large hands on your waist. All while zestfully fisting his cock, wrapped like a gift with your cute pink panties that he quite subtly stole when you were staying over to care for Megumi for a few days because he had to fly somewhere else to tackle off a special grade curse, substituted for the warmth of your velvety walls. For now.
Yandere!Satoru who knew you had no clue that he teleported from the location far away just to steal your panties.
Yandere!Satoru who also knew that you had no idea that he had tapped in your phone, having his hawking watch over who you texted and talked to.
Yandere!Satoru who couldn't be nonchalant anymore the minute he saw you texting your husband as you watched over Megumi, on how badly you wanted a baby after being a nanny to the young boy. That was his job, you were his, afterall.
Yandere!Satoru who felt angry and stupid because manifesting you didn't work. He knew he could never trust the higher powers with the people he loved so he took the matter in his own hands.
Yandere!Satoru who stood over your husband's dead body, ripped to shreds when you returned home. The worries of your husband not texting you back for hours now washed with horror and pain.
His handsome, angelic face was unnervingly calm and composed, his blue eyes amalgamated with mania and hollowness while he held her husband's filthy heart in his bloodied hands, a scowl of disgust washing over his face as he looked at the organ, darting his eyes at you almost pitifully, crushing it in a glimpse before walking to you.
"What a shame..your husband was quite bothersome, wouldn't you say? I had to take out the trash, y'know..got sick of him getting in the way" He'd speak in a smooth, saccharinely affectionate tone that you knew was empty. He ignored the shock laced on your face, the paleness of your skin, the fear in your eyes and your flinch which he found oh so..adorable, as he caressed your cheek with the strong metallic scent of crimson lingering.
"Let's play a game!" He brightly smiled, clapping his hands together which made you furrow your brows, a dry gulp going down your throat. The room only filled with the momentary sounds of his footsteps and your shaky, palpable breathing.
"The game is...name things you love about Gojo Satoru!!" He chimed, so happily that it sent a shiver down your spine, insinuating nausea.
"S-stay away..."
He frowned, titling his head as his empty eyes bored into yours.
"Wrong answer darling..the answer is Satoru, isn't it..?" He leaned in, cupping your face and tenderly kissing your lips.
Yandere!Satoru who teleported you two immediately to his estate as he pulled away from the kiss, your back hitting the silk sheets that screamed luxury.
Yandere!Satoru who would see you giving in to his gentle kisses all over your body, who'd feel your pulsating guilt and shame in your eyes while your pussy pulsated with pleasure having his fingers in your gushing cunt knuckles deep.
"Why did you say no to me, hm..? You're milking my fingers baby..fuuuck...I love you so much.." He whispered while his face nuzzled into your cheek. His hot breath mingled with phrases of love felt so gross, so filthy, so sinful but you saw yourself liking it, even after seeing your husband in such a state.
Yandere!Satoru, who'd dump his cum again in your oozing pussy even when his cock felt raw after kissing your cervix so many times, painting it white. Now finally pulling out with a squelch, he immediately replaced his two thick fingers to push his load back in.
"You're gonna be such a pretty mama baby..I will make your wish come true.."
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©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬
Plagiarism not authorised. Please consider reblogging and liking if you enjoyed the content :)
More on m.list!
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funkyplantguy · 2 days
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OOH OOH, Mumbo putting the big ol' bootycheeks on the Cub billboard and then stepping back and looking at his work and feeling kinda 😳‼ about it
CACKLED OUT LOUD READING THIS ASK AND IMMEDIATELY SCREENSHOTTED IT TO SEND TO TWO OF MY FRIENDS. anyway, here's...uh...this! -
"hiya, mumbo, what doin?" "studying." "studying...what?" "cub's ass." "...i'm sorry, what?"
mumbo turned to face the avian, folding his spyglass in on itself with a clean, satisfying schwick. honestly, grian sounded much more confused about all of this than he had any right to be - it wasn't as if he didn't do the same thing with scar. arguably, what mumbo was doing (standing at a respectable distance, using his spyglass to peer into the strange labrynth cub was currently navigating) was much better than what grian did when he was bored. he was going to give scar a heart attack, one of these days, with his propensity for perching in trees and dive-bombing the man the second he stepped within range. so, really - grian had no ground to stand on, not with this. "cub's ass," he repeated, "don't act like you don't watch scar build for hours just on the off-chance that he'll take his shirt off" "that's different," grian grumbled, swinging so that he was hanging upside-down off of the branch he'd previously been perched on. "we've been together for years. it'd be weird if i didn't want to see him naked. cub, on the other hand...i didn't know you liked him like that." "oh, i don't," mumbo dismissed (ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat in his chest at the suggestion), "i'm just bored. and someone needs to finish that sign you put up." "sign?" grian asked, peering owlishly at him. "which...oh, the one in the shopping district?" "mmhm. i should have known you wouldn't do the back - but no fuss, i'll handle it." "i...the back? mumbo, what do you mean? it's a billboard, it doesn't need a back." mumbo chuckled lightly to himself, sliding the spyglass into the pocket of his slacks. ah, grian - always skirting around the issue at hand. typical. "i - hey, don't walk away from me - what do you mean, it needs a back? what are you going to add to it? mumbo? mumbo?" a few hours later, grian had his answer. and mumbo could tell that he was impressed (if the wide, round eyes and gaping mouth mumbo was met with as he glided down from the back of the sign meant anything). scar, on the other hand... "no way!" the shirtless man shrieked, from where he was sprawled out on the grass next to his partner. "you gave him an ass! you gave cub an ass! this is great! oh - mumbo, you've really outdone yourself with this one." "mumbo," grian interjected, glaring down at scar with a look that screamed don't encourage him! "what the fuck." "what do you mean? the sign needed a back. i added one. it's simple, really." "oh man. grian - grian, this guy's down so bad. it's so funny - i should tell cub. i should tell cub - can i tell cub? please? please can i tell cub?" "no, scar, you cannot tell cub - mumbo. mumbo, are you sure you don't fancy cub? i mean...you just spent two hours recreating his ass, for goodness sake!" mumbo hummed to himself, turning to survey the sign behind him and...oh, goodness, he'd given cub a bbl. did cub's ass really look like that? it had to - he'd studied it for hours, diligently, so he could get it just right...maybe he'd remembered it incorrectly? maybe he'd need to go back to the source to examine it just a bit further...
oh. oh.
yeah, okay. maybe he understood where grian was coming from. "hey guys - oh, hey, mumbo. did you...is that an ass?" "yes." "huh. nice. good job." "thanks, cub."
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haunted4kent · 2 days
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" inked up " t . todoroki
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✧˚ · . 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 ; get risky with the ink , please?
female reader! x touya todoroki with no burns.
a/n ; TATTOO ARTIST AND GRUNGE TOUYA im losing my own shit. have fun this is shitty writing but idc <3
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the small parlor on the corner stood out a little more than it should have, but touya loved it. 
he ran it all on his own, and when he met you and introduced you to it, his eyes awaited your reaction like a child showing their mother their art.
this shop was a monument for ink-loving, rock-loving, cigarette-smoking freaks, just like him, just like you.
at the end of the day, he’d finish up his last client and the routine was the same. you’d help him clean up then sit curled up on the couch and sketch all night before losing track of time and going home at 3am. 
he slips the gloves off his hands, throwing them into the bin after finishing up his last customer of the night. he gives you a boyish grin, sitting down beside you. he presses a kiss behind your ear, the cold metal of his snake bites pressing against your skin.
“i made good cash, i just did a couple of small tats today. still, great money.”
his eyes had a sort of glimmer, one he'd only had when he was up to no good. “touya, what?” 
he scoots up, shrugging his shoulders. “nothin, nothin. i was just wondering if you wanted to you know. get some ink in ya.” 
touya loved giving you tattoos. you weren't littered like him, you were his empty canvas. he’d given you your first and second, small simple ones that had meaning, but to offer you at a random time with no idea what you could permanently put on your body was different of him.
you should have expected it, getting with an eyeliner-wearing, pierced, tattoo artist. shit. you couldn't help but fall for those metalled-up lips.
“come onn. please? i saw the way you were staring at the customers today, you must have been thinkin' about it.” he ran his fingers down your arm, the platnuim of his rings turning your skin up in goosebumps. 
so convincing. he had pleading eyes, but you know in his mind how many ideas he has. “fine, but like, what?” his pout turns into a grin, and he sits up to reach his book full of sketches, pulling you to his chest.
“soo, i may or may not have sketched somethin out for you, but it's meant for a certain place.” when your eyes go to the small body sketch, and the ribcage is circled, you think he must be crazy. you can't help but laugh. “get that shit away from me.” 
like a child, he shuts the book and whines. “pleaseee”
“you must be out of your mind to want to tattoo my ribcage touya, i was struggling with the knee.” he stands from the couch, his hand lifting at his loosely fitted tank to reveal his tattooed ribs, which he was extremely egotistical about. “you see these babies here? i almost love them as much as i love you. and what i want to do with you is a more modern-day type style, do you know how purposely splotchy 2000s I did this?”
you knew you had a medium tolerance for the needle, but it was a little beyond what you expected.
he leans down and runs his thumb over your cheek. his eyes moving to each one of the piercings in your ears, nose, brow, and lip, he knew his girl had it in her.
“c’mon babe, have a little fun. we’ll smoke, have a little chitchat, and you won't even feel it.” he so loved that you were just like him, into the same things as him. he couldn't just let that go to waste.
before you know it, you are lying on the tattoo bed. he slips on the latex over his hands, scooting on his little rollie chair towards the side of where you lay. “my poor baby.” he wipes the antiseptic over your ribs with the smugest smirk known to man.  you could almost be mad at his cocky remarks, but getting lost in him is the only thing that keeps you going.
"you'll be fine, you're gonna love it."
when your eyes lose focus and find themselves stuck on his inked-up arms, or the chain hanging down his favorite pair of baggy pants. your almost too glad he's giving you the tattoo. plus the cigarette he's passing back and forth between the two of you is also a great help.
“you can like, dig your fingernails into me if you need to, i whined like a baby just a little too. plus, who the hell doesn't want a pretty face diggin' into them.” he places a soft kiss on your lips. his fingertips gently pressing on your skin. the gun starts buzzing the needle drives into your nerve endings like a bitch.
 “oh, you're a dick touya.” 
"heh, my names pretty comin' out of your mouth sweets." he doesn't look up, just his egotistical smirk sitting on his concentrated face.
 his eyes looked up to yours for a moment, sweetly, but having a picture stabbed into your ribs wasn't exactly making you blush either.
the buzzing of the tattoo gun in his hand was the only thing you could focus on, and the little heart touya let you tattoo onto his ring finger. a couple months back. "your alright, just keep breathing slow, and pass me the cigarette"
"i think i need it more." you protest.
"no you dont" his hand comes up and pulls the bud from between your fingers, placing it between his lips.
you found comfort in the shop, it was familiar, and you tapped your fingers to songs of the bands he had up on the walls.
“we're literally like badass grudge bitches, i feel like i'm taking this like a pro.” breathing was excruciating, but talking nonsense could also take your mind off it a little more. 
“that’s the spirit. your doin' so good, so proud.”
after an hour and a half, he carefully wraps your skin and treats you with a kiss once you sit up.
“not gonna pass out now that you sit up, are you? need apple juice?” he speaks to you like your a whiny child after a shot offering you a lollipop.
“im good, are you?”
he shrugs, showing off his scratched-up bicep to you like a prize. “you're not too bad of an artist either babe”
“oh shut up jackass.” you sit up off the seat and stand in front of the body-length mirror. rolling up your top, you admire the work. he really was gifted with his hands.
he steps up behind you, pulling the gloves from his hands with his teeth before tossing them aside.
in the lightly illuminated room, his face is dark in the mirror. his chin sets on your shoulder and his teeth nibble at the lobe of your ear. “pretty dark tattoo for such a pretty girl like you. you like?”
you really did like it, it sat well with your style, and suddenly the drive for more filled your blood.
 “i think it's really fuckin cool.”
his hand wraps the side of your hip, the hand that in cursive wrote out your name.
the cool metal from his brow sets onto your neck. “atta girl, now dont get addicted.”
© haunted4kent 2024.
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reonnex · 1 day
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The infantilization of book!Wylan and show!Wylan really needs to be looked at.
This isnt a call out, or trying to hate on anyone, just an overall thing I've seen throughout being in this fandom
In the books while Wylan is a child he is also 16. People underestimate him into innocent and even younger. And while he is naive, this does not make him innocent. He has his own morals, own judgment that havent been ripped away from him yet. He is just trying to survive.
People use the "we could wake them up line" a lot snd I agree! But to also look at the full lines as well
Wylan gestured to the guards. "Is it safe to leave them, you know-"
"Alive? I'm not big on killing unconscious men."
"We could wake them up."
"Pretty ruthless, merchling. Have you ever killed anyone?"
"I'd never even seen a dead body before I came to the Barrel." Wylan admitted.
"It's not something to be embarrassed about," Jesper said, surprising himself a little. But he meant it. Wylan needed to learn to take care of himself, but it would be nice if he could do it without getting on friendly terms with death."Make sure the gags are tight."
This isnt him being ruthless. Its him being logical. He is taking what Jesper says to heart. Wake them instead of killing them unconscious. Which they do end up tying the soldiers to the pole and leaving. Him having morals shouldn't contribute to claims of him being innocent.
Wylan is worried about hurting people but will do so if nessecasry to save his friends. We can see this in the show and books. In the show he does not want to make bombs for Kaz, but does so in the end because he acknowledges he has to survive. He is worried about Alby, but goes along with the plan still.
All these are what makes Wylan, wylan. It is his fundamentals, his morals and idels. They are not however claims to see how sweet and innocent he is and how he was corrupted.
Ontop of this, while it is never y it is hevaily implied that Wylan is also autistic. (Also, correct me if im wrong please, but im pretty sure Jack did talk about this.) Autistic people get infantilizated already, and I've had my own fair share of this as well. ( I am autistic and have a learning disabilitiy, as well a speech impedament that I still struggle with.) I have to work harder to make sure people treat me as a twenty year old. Because that is my age, and there is a significant difference in attitude in how people treat me when they know im autistic, and when they don't.
And for Wylan, I feel like its the same issue. While it may not be intentional, ive been people coo over the fact Wylan has done simple tasks or teen experiences. Him having Jesper read to him, getting flustered when talking to him, Wylan not understanding social cues as well as others and taking things to face value.
You can be excited for him and think it's sweet, but to also acknowledge that there is a line between "Thats adorable" and "He's adorable." Wylan is someone who is neurodivergent. He was extrmetly sheltred as a child and was never given the proper tools to help his dyslexia, due to this he has struggles that shouldn't be overlooked or seen as "cute" when he experiences outcomes due to the situation he was in. Whenever he doesn't understand social cues, i.e., "Whos mark." People giggling and saying it's silly or cute when he doesn't understand the cues. That's infantilizating! You are viewing things he struggles with in the lens of watching a child understanding the world. Which Wylan isn't. He is a teenager, no matter the circumstances. His age should be understood.
This infantilization also effects wesper in how people view the two of them. Many people view black people as "older, the man in the relationship, rugged" while the white person is seen as the "women, younger, more innocent."
Infact, I think the show only worsned it for Wylan. As now there are faces to names.
Jack does have a youthful face, but still looks his age. I have a babyface and even now at 20 I look much older then I did at 16. The same goes for Jack. He cant control how he looks but because of his youthful features people only push for this racially hetaronormative mindset more between Wylan and Jesper (Even if its untitional).
Even Kit looks his age as well and has a baby face. He's 29 right now but was in his mid twenties during filming. Season 1 was filmed back in 2019 but due to covid post production got set back, and season 2 was filmed in the beginning of 2022. But why is it only Wylan who is infantilizated? Jesper struggles just as much with his ADHD and trauma as Wylan does.
Jack and Kit are only one year apart, the same in the books but still ive been Wylan be portrayed as the "poor innocent child who was abused." and Jesper as the "he needs to get over his addiction hes a grown man/ he's too mean to Wylan."
In society now so many black teens are seen as adults and treated as such, while white teens are seen as younger and not pushed so hard. The same can be seen for wesper.
Ive even seen people on Tiktok and other socials claim that Jesper was rude to Wylan and abusive. (WHERE???). Both Wylan and Jesper have said things that hurt the other, and they both apologized for it, and get grilled as well. In the show and books they learn and grow. The infantilization of Wylan doesnt hurt just him but plays into racial stereotypes and also microagressions. Why is it that when the white character is calling someone out its "deserved" but when the black character (who might I add had no idea) makes a side comment he is labled as cruel and abusive?
In so many shows and books the black character is usually portrayed as the joker character. Six Of Crows does this as well, which is something important to not ingore. Jesper is seen as the flirty joke character. However the only difference is soc also show more sides to his character by letting him be vulnerable. Letting Jesper show his struggles to the audience as well, how his neurodivergece effects him, letting him dress in skirts and bold colors that step away from the gender norm. So many times in media the black character is just there for shits and giggles, or is used as the villan/antagonist.
It believe its really important to understand this, and to acknowledge if your infantilizating him, or even using microagressions on Jesper unintentionally, then to learn to understand why and to grow from them.
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God of death Logan and his right hand Wade a man who can't die
Ft: @existentialgaybirdnerd
He's a mercenary still and maybe he met Logan during the weapon X offshoot thing. And then he ends up doing not only mercenary jobs but also jobs for Logan
Bird: Logan was trying to help along all the souls left after the fire and was trying to help Wade when he woke up
He gets glimpses during the torture but absolutely he finally sees him for real after the fire
Bird: Logan liked Wade because he sent so many people to him and was funny, so seeing him during and after the fire and unable to help him broke his heart. When Wade gasped awake, Logan nearly cheered for the human who had once again escaped his grasp
And Wade immediately blurts out that he is the hottest thing he's ever seen
Bird: "Am I in fucking heaven because holy shit I think I'm looking at God"
And Logan can't help but be flattered because no one ever looks at him with anything other than fear
After this Logan says he will help Wade get his revenge and that's exactly what he does. He has a grudge against these people anyway because of how many innocents are being slaughtered.
He is there for every single death and Wade treats it like courting.
Bird: Logan watches as Wade kills every person and whispers suggestions for questions and suit designs in his ear, amusing himself with Al's sass. Twist: that's who Wade is talking to during 4th wall breaks
When Francis dies Logan is ecstatic and immediately grabs his soul and pretty much eviscerates him. Francis has about 2 seconds before he realizes what's going on and Logan just waves at him and then Wade waves at him. And Francis has the biggest OH SHIT moment in existence.
Bird: And then Wade gets up and the Vanessa thing happens and when the other two walk away he asks how she would feel being in a throuple with death
Vanessa the legend she just shrugs and asks if death is hot
Bird: Death goes on a vacation (me: Or alternatively not quite a vacation but he is regularly around.) to be in a happy throuple for a couple of years. Pretends to be a simple mutant
Bird: He doesn't need to do TOO much because he's got helpers anyway. Death is a lot of paperwork but he collects souls sometimes for fun. So he'll just bring paperwork to their apartment and parallel play while they all do their own thing
Vanessa when she first sees him says this was the best decision of her life. While Logan immediately likes her because of how similar she is to Wade
Weasel absolutely notices Wade doesn't talk into thin air when Logan is around and he's getting suspicious.
Bird: One day Logan looks at Weasel as he's trying to figure it out and winks at him and disappears
WEASEL FREAKS OUT Wade and Vanessa play dumb
Bird: Wade: "he went to the bathroom like 2 minutes ago man, what do you meant he disappeared?"
Weasel would write it off because of a mutation but he already damn well knows Logan's mutation. He has to It's best friend code to know everything about your best friends partner or partners in this case
Bird: Logan will go invisible and just fuck with things behind the bar when it's a slow night, making Weasel think the place is haunted. and he always wins the dead pools and no one knows how
(Dp 2)
Bird: Logan is busy or indisposed and Vanessa wouldn't necessarily die, but Wade does kinda lose his shit because holy hell someone tried to kill my gf and now there's a boy in trouble.
Ooohhh what it could be is because of Cable coming into existence during the past it's screwing things up for Logan on his side
Logan ends up outing himself when Cable appears in the apartment with his idea.
Logan just appears and starts cursing Cable out because DO YOU KNOW THE NIGHTMARE THAT YOU JUST CAUSED FOR ME?!
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ladyinred2248 · 3 days
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King of the North, Part 12
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Warnings: MATURE. MINORS DNI. Mentions of Violence, Pregnancy and labor. Things are looking up!
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“Oh Dear God,” Ronan muttered to himself as he crossed the corridors hurriedly, squeezing past the several servants that were scurrying about as they prepared for the first birth to be had at the palace in more than a decade. Ronan was so nervous for you that he could feel his hands trembling, almost hear his teeth chattering in his head. He was moving swiftly along the halls, ducking across servant girls carrying linens as he came to an abrupt stop, running head on into his brother.
“Shit!”
“Woah,” Cinaed said abruptly, recovering from the near body slam that Ronan gave him. “What’s the hurry, eh?”
“The babe is comin’, you wench! Hurry, make yerself useful!!”
“Ronan,” Cinaed laughed, “This is no place for a man. Just sit down and relax. Or better yet, go with the men for the hunt. They are leaving soon.”
“Oh for God’s sake. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“Brother, calm yerself!” Cinaed chuckled, “Everything will be fine.”
Ronan scoffed and pushed his brother to the side then, continuing on to reach your chambers, if only just to check on you. If you shewed him away, that would be acceptable, but he had to know how you were faring. The past several months, you had given Ronan so much. He felt like he was part of a family for the first time in his life; he loved the company of his father, and you being there simply added to the bliss. Having a woman around that understood him and comforted him with words meant the world to him. You always laughed at his jokes, appreciated every little thing he did; most importantly, you encouraged him to spend time with his father, whom he grew to admire so greatly in the short time they had known one another. It was simple — Ronan cared for you greatly.
When Ronan reached your chamber, he took a deep breath before rapping his knuckles on the door and announcing himself. He could suddenly hear Finan’s muffled voice from behind the door.
“Aye, come in lad!”
Ronan opened the door slowly, and his first glimpse was you standing and pacing near the edge of the bed, Finan sitting on the edge of it near you. Your smile lit up as you saw him, beckoning him over to you with the grace of an angel Finan thought, even in your fragile state.
“Ronan! Come in, come in!” You gestured him in, wiping the sweat from your brow before taking both of his hands in yours as he came closer. You smiled brightly at him as you tried to fight back the pains of contractions. “It looks like you will be an older brother again. You are happy, yes?”
“Princess,” Ronan said as he took your hands, grinning at you. “I— I am so elated. Are ya doing alright? Is there anythin’ I can get ya?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Thank you,” you brought Ronan into your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders. “Thank you so much, for.. for everything.”
Finan smiled as he watched his eldest son return your embrace, holding you against him with a smile on his face. Just as Ronan let go of you, a mind shattering contraction hit, and you nearly stumbled as Finan stood and put his arms around you. You brought your face to Finan’s chest, breathing heavily as you prayed the contraction would pass quickly.
“Father, what can I do to help? What do we do?!”
Finan chuckled. “Just give her some time, Lad. It won’t be long now. Don’t worry, I’ll be here with her the whole time,” Finan took a hand to cup your face, bringing your lips to his as your pain lessened and you relaxed into his embrace.
“Right,” Ronan said with shuddering breaths, “I’ll be near, just call for me.”
You smiled at Finan’s son once again. “Thank you. I am so grateful for you all.”
Ronan gave you one last beaming smile before wiping his sweating palms on his tunic and shutting the door behind him as he left.
Finan cocked an eyebrow at you as you met his gaze.
“He loves you, the bastard.”
You chuckled, slapping his chest with the back of your hand as you grinned. “Oh, quit.”
“I can’t believe you’re still smilin’ up at me like I’m not the reason you’re in pain.”
“Mm, and you are the reason, aren’t you?”
“Me and the fact I could never keep my hands from ya— or my cock,” he drawled.
You hummed and bit your lip. “Right. I’ve noticed,” you snickered. You took a moment to gaze into Finan’s deep brown eyes. “It’s the honor of my life to be here with you.”
Finan smiled, the kind of one where his eyes crinkled and his eyes beamed. “I love you, my princess.”
As your contractions were increasing in intensity and becoming closer together, you found it so much more difficult to focus on Finan, to focus on anything for that matter, and by this time you did start to feel like you could hit him for making you go through this misery. You assured yourself that it wasn’t only his fault — you had been happy to participate in the matters prior that led you to these circumstances. Another rapping of knuckles on the door only irritated you further in your completely pain ridden state.
“I’ll get it,” Finan said, moving away from you. The only other person in the room was Amelie, one of Ronan’s servants. The girl was slightly younger than you, and although she gave you words of comfort and some of wisdom, her inexperience in birthing babes made you nervous. You could tell that Finan wasn’t very comforted either, pacing the floor and feeling useless.
Finan opened the door to see his Lord, who looked at him with his trademark furrowed brows and concern in his eyes.
“Finan, you look like shit —
“Jesus, Lord! What could ya possibly want right now?”
Uhtred laughed. “I’m only concerned…The time has passed greatly with no progress it seems. How is she?”
You yelled from inside the chamber to Uhtred. “Not well!”
Uhtred smiled at Finan, who took a deep breath and gave the Dane a nervous and concerned look as they spoke to each other with their eyes.
“Finan, we should have sent for Hild.”
“I—I know it, Lord,” Finan stuttered, “I know nothin’ about this. Nothin’.”
“I might have someone who can help. But you must not gripe about it.”
“I won’t, Lord, I swear it. Please— hurry.”
You couldn’t tell if ten minutes had passed or an hour had passed. It was simply a blur of pain and nervousness as you paced the floor and waited for the babe to come. Amelie looked concerned that things were not moving along. Or at least that’s what you surmised by her body language and short sentences.
Another rap on the door.
“I’m here,” Sihtric said softly as he entered from the doorway, and as you met his mismatched gaze he gave you a sweet smile. Finan didn’t say a word, but the contempt on his face told you everything.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be JOKIN’!”
Sihtric chuckled softly, coming closer to you and grabbing your hand as he stood at the edge of the bed. “Lady, I am no expert, but— I’ve witnessed and helped many women with this journey. I was raised around many women who— well, who suffered this.”
“No,” Finan cut in, “Absolutely not.”
“Finan, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t feel that I could help her!”
Finan rolled his eyes in disbelief while you looked into Sihtric’s eyes helplessly, relieved to hear his words but nervous just the same as you grabbed his hand.
“Sihtric,” you smiled. “I believe you.”
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Though the atmosphere in Scotland was volatile, King Constantin and Domnal had reached a consensus with one another, despite the Prince’s insubordination. Although Domnal was often mightily reckless, his words in the King’s ear over the course of several weeks were steadfast and convincing. They would make one more attempt at conquering the lands and retrieving their kin. If proven successful, they would need no alliance — they would be the most powerful force of the North. Constantin often thought of you and your betrothed, and how his plan of making Finan the King in the beginning miserably failed. The powerless feelings he held paved the way for his own desperate and aggressive actions. It was through this agitated state that he ordered his men to Ulaid for one last, defining battle. One that would either secure his position or secure Ronan’s. Whatever the outcome would be, King Constantin felt that it was his duty to maintain his position. He resented Finan’s lack of fealty— if he had only obeyed him, stayed steadfast in his Kingship. Now, Ulaid was being overrun by the likes of a child. Finan’s child, but a child nonetheless. The weak position of the Kingdom in this state was enticing enough to make a move for it. The travel had begun, and they would reach Ulaid in a matter of days.
Ronan felt entirely useless pacing the halls while you endured your labor, so he took his position on the ramparts as he usually did, looking out from all directions to the land and to the coast. It was from this position that he witnessed one of his lookouts returning on horseback quite quickly, reaching the gates in a matter of moments after he saw him. Ronan knew then that something of importance had arose, and his breath caught in his throat. He hesitated, then took a deep breath as he took to the stairs and brought himself down to the ground level, ordering his men in haste.
“Open the gates!”
The lookout rode in, dismounted his horse swiftly and walked to Ronan.
“Your Grace,” he bowed. “The Scots have been spotted in our lands.”
“Oh dear God,” Ronan muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat and spoke with more confidence. “How many?”
“… I would say hundreds, Your Grace.”
Ronan gathered a strength within him suddenly, for he had no other option, as his greatest fear had just come to be. How could he be ready for something of this magnitude? Right here and now, at the palace of his birth. He turned to face his Kingsguard, and every other man who was simply gazing at him, waiting eagerly for his next command. His command. It was up to him to make the next move. Not Conall. Not his father. Him. A shudder suddenly ran across his body at this thought. This was no time for faltering; no time for fear.
“Archers to the ramparts!”
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Your labors had begun with progress now, though you simply had no idea when the suffering would end. All you could do was try to breathe.
“It’s gonna be alright, angel,” Finan said softly, comforting you with his words. “I’m right here. You can do this!”
You were practically in Finan’s lap as he sat behind you, the worst part of the process having begun. You would have been self conscious if not for the grueling pain and otherworldly experience; cursing left and right as you tried to follow the words of your counterparts. Amelie, Ronan’s servant, sat nervously in front of you, Sihtric to the side of her, giving you commands as if you had control of this nightmare called childbirth; Sihtric’s voice was firm and collected, but you could hardly concentrate on it.
“That’s it, Lady! Almost there! You must keep pushing!”
Finan’s hands were being absolutely crushed by yours, the poor man. And oh how his eardrums must have ruptured in that instant.
“There!” Sihtric shouted, “Cmon, you’re almost done, lady. Push!”
Before you could realize it, an enormous weight had been lifted from you, and you felt Finan’s strong arms wrap around you as you fell backwards into his chest, panting in the wake of the experience.
Finan was awestruck at the scene before him, the babe being whisked away for a moment by Amelie. It was crying out into the world for the first time. Oh blessed Jesus, it was real! He thought. Amelie quickly cradled the babe in a long cloth, swaddling it just a bit before bringing it closer to the both of you.
“Oh, Finan,” Sihtric rasped, his face beaming with excitement. “It’s a girl!”
Amelie handed you the babe, and suddenly all the pain and strife melted away as you gazed longingly at the creation in your arms. Finan let out a sob, wrapping you tightly in his arms as you leaned against his chest, rasping his lips against your ear as he chuckled happily.
“I’ve never felt such joy,” he drawled, trying to choke back his tears. “My wife, my child. My greatest happiness! She’s perfect!”
It wasn’t long before the joyous news spread among the servants, and Uhtred grinned at the happy ramblings of servant women as he passed them in the corridors. He was on his way to your room to see you and rejoice in your high spirits when he noticed through a window that Ronan’s guardsmen were assembling along the ramparts and in formation at the head of the fortress. It was then he realized that what he and Ronan had vaguely planned and imagined was coming to fruition. As a servant girl passed, he grabbed her arm softly.
“Lady, where is your Lord?”
“I am not sure, my Lord. But your Commander is still with his wife and child. Can I fetch him for you?”
“No,” Uhtred rasped out before running from her, down the hallway and through the corridors in search of Ronan.
When Uhtred got to the courtyard, he spotted him, preparing to mount his horse and ordering his men around with various tasks of preparation.
“Lord King!”
Ronan turned his head, catching the glimpse of a very concerned Lord Uhtred.
“Uhtred,” Ronan said softly as he came closer, “The Scots are here. They are here, and they will attack. We must be ready.”
“They will not take the fortress. Are you mad? You are leaving these walls without telling your father? Without warning him of our threat?”
Ronan scoffed. “It is not his responsibility to bear witness to this, it is mine.”
“It is a matter for all of us,” Uhtred said sternly. “You will stay within these walls. Of that, Ronan, I am sure.”
“Uhtred, I AM KING. You will not tell me where I am needed!” Ronan spat at him. “Now. You will gather the men and begin formation if you have any hope of victory for the lot of us.”
Ronan strode away from him then, and Uhtred felt that he was on the cusp of yet another defining battle, this time in Finan’s lands, and without an equal playing field as the Scots always held the advantage with their numbers. This was akin to the Danes fighting the Saxons. The next generation’s fight for freedom, the one that would determine the future of Finan’s offspring, of his homelands. Everything.
Uhtred found it within himself to walk back inside, through the corridors and to your chamber. And with a twinge of guilt in his heart he knocked on your door.
At the scene before him, Uhtred felt all the pride and joy possible for his Irish brother, though being the bearer of bad news ate at him. The fear for the current circumstances was imminent, but Finan found within himself a strength that had only been dormant for a time. He wondered if his eldest son was mustering the same.
“Is he ready?” Finan asked Uhtred.
Uhtred just nodded, a solemn look on his face.
“Uhtred, bring him back to me. Please,” you pleaded with the Danish Lord. “Please watch over the boys.”
“I will, Lady. Rest yourself. All you can do now is take care of this beautiful babe.”
“I am so sorry,” you looked to Finan, his dark eyes showing no concern, only looking to you with the most unconditional love and affection as you felt yourself breaking. “Finan, this is all my fault. It always has been.”
“Hush now,” he kissed your forehead, then the babe’s. “I want my angels to rest. I will keep ya safe. I love you very much. My lil’ princesses... I’ll keep ya safe.”
And within moments Finan didn’t hesitate to break away from you, knowing that without his own efforts he could never forgive himself if the victory wasn’t in Ulaid’s favor. This was his family’s future, the ultimate task to provide and care for his children and his wife. He would don his armor and he would head into battle yet again— Uhtred at his side evermore, this time in his own lands and for his own sake, his repayment for his years of loyalty to the Danish Lord. He would serve as Commander to Ronan, and he knew this task well— he had served under Uhtred for years now. But the lands of the North were different, and Scots were ruthless. For the life of him, he still couldn’t understand why this was happening. Why, if Constantin cared for his daughter, or if he cared for him in any regard having known his own father— why would he keep this up? Why not respond to Ronan’s plea for peace and alliance? Did the man no longer have a heart? Or was it Domnal, the same man who had whispered thoughts of destruction in Finan’s ear, egging on the most treacherous of acts and disguising them as freedom? Regardless, Finan would fight them with all his might, and for the last time he prayed.
The men were all gathered now, some on horses and all of them prepared in their armor with their weapons drawn, looking to Ronan as he drew his own sword and wielded it with authority. The young King’s voice suddenly echoed the courtyard.
“The Scots will NOT claim our land this day. This is the land of our ancestors… Our flesh and blood …buried in this ground. We will NOT surrender it this day. Our blood will be spilled in honor of these lands— and we will FIGHT, under God’s righteousness to maintain our fealty to our families and our lands! We will FIGHT, for our freedom, we will FIGHT until the Scots lay dead beneath our feet, never to disparage our lands again. We will FIGHT, and we shall give them NO MERCY!”
Those last two words sent a shudder down Uhtred’s spine. He remembered like it was yesterday the Battle of Ethandun, the same words, the chants of the men. Before his eyes a different generation was fighting the same battle. He looked around, noticing the men taking up their swords and chants and surrounding Ronan as he boisted them. Finan, Sihtric, Osferth, and Cinaed weren’t far from him, drawing their swords and seaxs and joining in with the chants of the others.
“NO MERCY! NO MERCY! NO MERCY!”
Finan crossed himself just before he locked eyes with Uhtred. They spoke with eye contact as Uhtred nodded to him, and with that notion the gates opened. Uhtred could see a formation of men at the ready in the front of the fortress, the men of the courtyard filing out to join behind them, and Ronan was now at the center of them. In the far distance, he could see another frightening formation. Hundreds of men in a straight line, shields at the ready and weapons drawn.
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Taglist: @gemini-mama @whitedarkmoonflower @alexagirlie @bcon24 @ficnation @justanother-sihtricgirlie @fandomonetwo
Disclaimer/Author’s note: This is completely canon-divergent and not historically accurate 🤣 it is only my creative musings.
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donnatroyyyy · 1 year
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Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.
#him and Dick have miscommunication about how they see each other. Bruce sees Dick as a son and Dick sees Bruce as a father#but they didn’t think the other saw them that way so they never told each other. that’s what led to their fights in Dick’s later teenage#years and dick quitting and becoming nightwing. he thought Bruce only saw him as a ward/robin so he thought that as long as he couldn’t be#robin Bruce wouldn’t want him#and if didn’t help when Bruce stopped talking to him when he left. though to Bruce it was because he thought Dick didn’t want to talk to him#and also Dick really needs to tell Bruce like ‘hey you put me on a higher pedestal then you put even yourself which is saying something and#and I don’t like that cuz that’s too much pressure for me. and also since you did it everyone else does it and has done it since I was Robin#and it’s literally just a matter of time before I break from the pressure cuz I’m not fucking Superman and I can’t take it’#and Jason with the whole UTRH thing. you know all Bruce had to say was that he had tried killing the joker over Jason multiple times and#maybe just explain to Jason WHY he doesn’t kill. a simple ‘you’re better than me because if I killed one person I’d kill everyone’#or it could even just be a simple ‘I do love you Jason youre the kid that I felt most comfortable loving’#and also maybe a ‘I don’t think anything changed after my death and that makes my death meaningless which I think goes against your no kill#rule because I hat is the rule of not a reminder taht death means something. and by that logic my death already went against the rule so why#can’t you do it again for the man that murdered me.’ and Bruce needs to make a presentation: ‘all the ways Jason’s death meant something’#and Tim just needs a simple ‘I don’t see you as work I see you as family.’ maybe even a ‘you don’t have to be the grown up in this relati#anymore I’m sorry you were one to begin with. you should’ve always been the child’#now his miscommunication with Damian goes much deeper but I’m one hundred percent sure if they sit down and air out all of their feelings it#would help a lot but I have a feeling that won’t happen#a ‘I have trouble understanding you because both your trauma and compassion run deeper than mine and I also never had to grow up to be a#weapon’ from Bruce and a ‘I don’t understand your optimism and moral stubbornness and easness why is it so easy to be good for u?’#his miscommunication with Cass stems from two things a simple ‘why are you so afraid to show how deeply you love?’ from Cass maybe a#‘I’m jealous of you because you’re better than me not only in fighting but morally and emotionally’ from Bruce should fix it#and Steph— look I’m not even going to TRY to get into that that goes SO much deeer and wider than any one else’s miscommunication#but maybe a ‘you reminded me of Jason at a time where that wasn’t a good thing’ from Bruce should start things up#for Duke a ‘I can never truly understand what you’re going/have gone through and for that I’m sorry’ from Bruce should suffice#maybe also Bruce telling him that just because he sees Duke as a son doesn’t mean he’s trying any less to get Duke his parents back#oh and babs just needs to go up to him and say ‘I don’t like that what happened to me happened for your story and not mine and I don’t like#that you don’t let me make it into my story’ and then Bruce can follow up and say ‘I see so much of myself in you and it makes me worry and#also I can never look at you without feeling guilty cuz you’re right what happened to you happened for MY story so I’m at fault’#then the two can go back to being too much like each other and sitting at their respective computers
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gu6chan · 28 days
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ended up reading old discord convos when looking through the deleted accounts in my DMs and ngl putting aside how willingly gullible i let myself be back then it's crazy how different things could have been if i didn't make friends with like literally one person goddamn 😭
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sexbot300 · 5 months
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telling them they have a small dick!
pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)
⤷ 18+, MDNI
tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.
a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)
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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary
Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 
Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.
Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 
A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”
With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 
In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.
“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.
Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.
He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.
My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 
Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”
He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.
“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 
Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 
“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.
Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.
“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”
“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.
Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.
“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 
Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”
With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”
A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”
“W-what?” Your voice croaked.
“They’re unreliable.”
“Want to know something else funny?”
Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.
He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”
-
On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 
Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 
Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.
Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.
“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 
It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 
“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 
Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.
“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”
All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 
“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”
“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”
He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”
“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”
Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.
He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”
-
You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.
Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.
“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”
“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 
Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.
“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”
Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 
“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.
“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”
“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 
“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.
Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.
“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.
Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.
“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.
“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 
“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 
Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.
Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.
“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”
═════════════════════
Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date
“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.
Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 
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Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 
Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.
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Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 
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A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.
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Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 
My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.
His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 
‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’
Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 
“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 
“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 
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Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.
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Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 
“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”
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Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.
Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.
Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.
“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.
“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 
Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 
While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.
Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 
“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 
Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 
Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”
Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.
Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.
Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”
-
Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 
It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.
Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.
Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”
Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 
He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.
For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 
Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.
“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”
3K notes · View notes
akimiiyo · 4 months
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-> JEALOUSY
⌗synopsis : genshin men when they’re jealous.
⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.
⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.
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he’s a gentleman, he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows for a fact that he has nothing to worry about. you’ve never done anything that made him feel as if he had to watch out and he’s certain that you never will. although he can still get annoyed at the sight of another man flirting with you. it was his insisting even after you turned him down that angered him the most. nonetheless, he doesn’t let such people interfere with his composure. he’ll act mature and take you somewhere else once he sees that the man has no intentions of leaving you alone. as soon as you both get a moment alone together, however, he won’t hesitate to plant a few more kisses than usual. just in case, y’know?
diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette, dainsleif, capitano.
he won’t admit it, but he gets jealous often. he doesn’t want to confront you about it because he believes it’s embarrassing and silly to feel that way. i mean, you’re his and he’s yours. you love him so much, there’s no need to worry, right? yet, he still can’t help but fume at the sight of strangers complimenting you. he can’t blame them, but he still would rather for people to be blind if that meant that they’d leave you alone. he’s aware of how unfair that would be, so he just stays quiet, either sulking or glaring at those people as you offer them a kind smile until you’re both alone where he’ll be needing your utmost attention.
xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, kaveh, baizhu.
he’s jealous and he’ll show it. hit on his partner? right in front of him? absolutely not. he might try to keep his calm at first, but as time passes and this scumbag is still around, he won’t hold back. not to worry, he won’t do anything extreme (unless he’s forced to do so), he just wants to make things clear to this guy. he’ll keep it simple at first, simply making subtle comments until he actually starts going straight to the point. after a while, he’ll take your arm and walk away with you, now being angrier than before. the way that guy was talking to him, but especially you, has him furious. be prepared to listen to his angry rant about that random dude. be also prepared to shut him up, you know how.
kaeya, childe, heizou, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, lyney.
this guy almost sees you as his property, his jealousy is unmatched. he won’t take anything lightly. if you’re trying to make advantages on his partner, then you’re asking for it. simple as that! he won’t let anyone think they might have a chance with you because you’re destined to be with him and only him. so obviously, he must make it clear to everybody to not even try. if someone is bold enough though, he’ll just stand beside you, piercing through this man’s soul with his icy gaze. thankfully, nothing ever escalated from that. not that he wouldn’t be capable of doing that, these poor souls simply knew better than to get against someone of that status and reputation.
ayato, dottore, pantalone, pierro.
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⌗a/n : im not really proud of this, i might edit it once i have time. it’s 4am and i was supposed to be studying, but i ended up writing this instead. talk about procrastination 😪 let me know if i made any mistakes pls
want to read more? take a look at my masterlist!
©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
2K notes · View notes
pedgito · 2 months
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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒 | General Acacius x reader x Emperor Geta
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↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | General Marcus Acacius has one thing Emperor Geta doesn't, you.
author's note | @pr0ximamidnight is FULLY responsible for this. she had an idea, i flip-flopped and threw out another one, and here we are. paige thank you for being a constant source of inspiration in my life and pea brain, ily. and thank you for beta'ing.
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE, dubcon - power imbalance and forced cuckolding | additional warnings: reader is a servant (but also participates in s*x work), established situationship with the general, marcus is a soft but guilt-riddled man, geta is literally just a gremlin asshole with an ego and you know what? i'm okay with that, heavy degradation, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, fingering, f voyeurism/exhibitionism. extra note: please heed the tags and proceed with caution. do not read if this icks you out, that simple. also we can just say this is au to avoid the bs. i just wanted to write a fic with both of my blorbos <3
word count —2.7k
There was something special about being bedded by a General, one so illustrious and generous as Acacius, but an Emperor, that was a wholly different experience. 
He knew you belonged to General Acacius, in a sense. One of his loyal servants who had sailed across the sea with him to the palace of the Emperor brothers who ruled here—Caracalla, a slimy and disgusting man, alongside his brother Geta, who wasn’t much better. He was smarter, though—albeit not by much, but his choices were calculated, vengeful, planned.
He had his eyes set on you from the moment you entered his home, alongside General Acacius in your unsuspecting and flimsy garb, a white and pristine material to match that of your General, detailed with gold specks and a tie at your waist that kept you modest.
“Serve them, appease them,” General Acacius had told you, “they are tempered men, do not upset them.” He’d meant it as a warning; watch yourself.
Acacius was a caring leader, for the most part. You stayed out of politics and war, dutiful to him and his needs wherever and whenever he needed you—and if that meant buried in his sheets when you were away with him on one of his many triumphs around Rome, that was his business and your secret to keep. The gold necklace that hung around your neck was a gift from him, a thank you for all of your hard work, but a silent reminder that you were his. None of the other men touched you, like a brand on your body that had them running in the other direction.
But, not Emperor Geta.
He tips your chin up with his finger, your body shaking nervously under his touch as he uses his other hand to spread your legs apart at your knees, stripped out of his cloak and down to his tunic, but even that was hanging on by a thread. 
He’d commanded you to strip down in front of him, your clothes pooled somewhere on the floor near his bed.
You’ve been in plenty of situations like this before, sex with men you didn’t care for. If it meant sustenance and another day of breathing, you didn’t care. You did what you had to. But this, it felt off. There was a constant snarl to his face, his gold crown displaced beside your head as his finger trace and followed until he was gripping the underside of your chin in his palm and pushing up, fingering the necklace with a smug, salacious grin.
“He’s got you collared,” Geta breathes, “like a dog, doesn’t he?”
Don’t speak, he’ll hear the quiver in your voice.
“Answer me,” His voice booms, “does he fuck you in secret?”
You blink, watching his lips pull back in a thin line and his gaze—it was frightening.
You nod despite yourself, not prepared to see what would happen if you had lied.
The thing with Geta was he also disguised his intentions behind momentary kindness.
A kind smile as you offered him a full goblet of wine or refilled his plate, as you trailed alongside him holding another gaudy offering to appease the other ego-driven men who pursued this place—General Acacius knew he was losing you to him and there wasn’t a thing he could say or do without risking your life in the process.
His face softens for a brief moment, feeling the hard swallow from your throat as it strains, eyes droning into the bedpost above your head as his fingers flex, debating on whether he should rip the jewelry from your neck or leave it be. 
Eventually, he decides for the latter.
“Show me,” Geta commands, “how you please him.”
He loosens his grip on your chin and allows his hand to fall, watching as you rise up slightly on your elbows, breasts shaking with the movement and you can catch the way his jaw clenches, salivating at the sight. You pull at the tie on his skirt, finding that he was already bare underneath, his hard and aching cock springing from underneath as you pushed it away.
His confidence wasn’t a cover, you could confirm. He was large, not nearly as much as General Acacius but given the amount of situations you’ve caught yourself in, staring up or down at men who just needed a quick taste of you and the pleasure you had to offer, he was quite enough.
The tip, red and dripping already, he palms himself. A chuckle escapes his chest as he flings the rest of the fabric to the floor, his hand cupping around his balls and rolling them between his fingers before he’s gripping his shaft and then your own hand, allowing a few strokes before he intructs you to do as he’s asked. 
You squeeze, apply an ample amount of pressure as you pull at his shaft, watching as he slowly canted his own hips into your palm, his hand gripping into your scalp to keep you upright, hair tangled around his fingers as he breathes out roughly through his nose.
“Always know a whore when I see one,” He denotes and you have to fight the urge to bark back, “do you suck cock like one too?”
If anything, it was a silent order.
You push up onto your palm, feeling the strength of his grip as he yanks your head back, forcing your eyes to lock with his as he uses the other hand to guide his cock head to your lips, sneering as he spreads the glistening precome over your lips before pressing further. You open your mouth to him, allowing the heavy weight of his cock to split your lips apart, giving you very little time to adjust before he’s eagerly thrusting into your mouth, using your hand to cover the rest of his cock you couldn’t fit, feeling more shameful than you should about how you weren’t as bothered by him as you should be.
He wasn’t some strange man pandering you with a pile of coins on the street or around the dark corner of the palace—he was power. An emperor with little remorse.
You can hear him chuckling darkly above, his eyes wild as you suck at his cock, spit pooling in your mouth and dripping down your chin.
“Messy bitch,” He mutters, picking up the pace considerably as he began to fuck into your mouth, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat forcing a garbled gag around him, “—are you of the thankful sort or are you ungrateful?”
He pulls you back suddenly, leaving you to gasp out in desperation at the sudden relief, looking up at him with watery eyes, swallowing against your sensitive gag reflex.
“Thank—thankful, sir.” You confirm with a weak nod.
“No sir,” He counters, “Emperor. Let me hear you speak it.”
“Thankful,” You affirm, “I’m thankful, Emperor.”
“Good,” His thumb traces your bottom lip, mixing with the spit and slick of him that was covering your mouth, “so you’ll take my cum and say thank you, won’t you?”
You nod obediently, feeling him loosen the grip on your hair slightly as he fisted himself, using the copious amount of spit as lubricant. You watch as his abdomen flexes under the guise of his impending orgasm, how jerky his movements become as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, a muffled curse slipping beyond his lips before he’s pressing his cock to your lips without warning and expecting, knowing that his obedient little whore would be willing and waiting. His cum pools in your tongue, salty and warm as he jerks himself a few final times before he pulls away, watching carefully as you swallow down the taste of him. It was then that he finally allowed you a break, releasing his grip on your scalp as you fell back.
“What a harlot you are,” Geta comments, but seemingly pleased as he leans back on his calves and pulls you upright, awaiting until you’re sitting less rigidly before he drags a hand across your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple and watching as it pebbled underneath his touch, “might I suggest an audience?”
You have no time to respond before he’s fetching for one of his other many servants, a name you’ve never heard before being thrown across the room and you scramble for the covers, desperate for some protection to your state of undress. Geta allows it, but he doesn’t hide the smirk or laugh that escapes him, his eyes creasing in amusement.
The servant peaks around the door dutifully, wide eyes dropping on you before quickly averting to the Emperor.
“Fetch the General for me, would you?” He asks, “I’ve been meaning to show him a proper good time.”
The servant nods meekly before departing and when Geta looks at you—he sees it.
“What?” He remarks like a child, “Don’t fear for your modesty now—“
The footsteps grow closer, heavy and slow as they thump, thump, thump against the floor, matching the quick beat of your heart.
“Emperor Geta—“ His voice brings you to tears, looking away in fear that he would judge, seethe, leave you to be eaten alive by the Emperor on your own and finally rid himself of you.
“General,” He boasts, still stark naked but using your legs as a makeshift cover over his cock, despite how bare you were, “won’t you join us?”
When you do look at him, he’s stoic. Fearful just as much as you. In fact, you’ve never seen him this worried. Not even in the depths of war.
“Are you asking, Emperor?” He counters, “Or ordering?”
Geta answers with a wave of his hand toward your naked body and Acacius pushes down the sigh that wants to escape through his nose, closing the door shut behind him.
“She’s quite the woman, you must know,” He comments and General Acacius' nose flares at the words, lifting himself slowly onto the bed to sit near you, still a distance away. If you reached out, you could touch him, “beautiful, obedient—the perfect whore, really.”
“Emperor, forgive me,” Acacius argues, “but I am not sure what you want from me in this situation.”
“She’s yours, is she not?” He asks, flinging the necklace up lazily before it hits your chest again and Acacius eyes immediately draw to the jewelry. “This reeks of you.”
“It was a gift, for her diligent and loyal work.”
Because as much as you had served General Acacius in many ways, you were still tending to everything else without complaint and with a good attitude. In another life, if things could be different, you might have him as your own. But, that wasn’t possible.
“Do you fuck her?”
Geta knows the answer—all of you do.
“That is none—“
“As she is under my rule—it is my business,” He snaps, “Do you fuck her, General? Is she a good fuck?”
Lord above, put me out of this misery, you think.
Acacius offers nothing but silence.
Geta nods with finality, “Fair—you can watch and tell me if her moans sound the same while my cock is inside of her.”
And Geta catches the way your hand in his sheets inch closer toward Acacius out of instinct, wanting his touch just as bad.
He furrows his brow and nods toward the General.
“Prepare her for me,” He orders, “touch her.”
Your eyes flick up toward him, a silent and pleading echo of Marcus behind your eyes. Serve him, appease him.
He closes his eyes and breathes a deep sign, his fingers trailing down your stomach until they can hover over your cunt, his middle and ring finger placed and at the ready. You nod, mouth instantly falling open at his touch.
The Emperor smirks, watching Acacius dexterous fingers work over your clit and your chest rise and fall in quick succession, his hand fisting his own cock lazily. 
“I can see why you’ve taken such a liking to her,” Geta notes, speaking as if you weren’t in the room, as if he wasn’t fisting his cock at the entrance of you cunt, “I owe you, for bringing her to me—and leaving her with me.”
You can see the way Acacius' face twitches in anger, but his eyes never leave yours when they open again, using him as a solace in this complicated time. You grab for his wrist when you feel yourself growing near, breathing out a shaky moan.
“There, stop.” Geta orders and Acacius' hand drags away slowly, fingers drifting along the edge of your jaw with a fondness that was reserved for you alone.
You smile sadly.
I’m sorry, you convey silently.
In this world, Acacius knew you had no choice in the matter. It was survival and had you been born into a wealthier family, a better life, maybe you would be at the other end of this situation.
“Look at me,” He commands you, pulling your face away from Acacius grip and forcing your eyes on him as he presses inside of you slow, hand gripped at the base of his cock as he split you open, his face pinched as you squeezed him, cunt sucking him in greedily. 
You bite at your cheek, trying to stifle the involuntary moans from the stretch of Emperor Geta’s cock. You could deny and say that it didn’t feel good, but that would be a lie. Your selfish body was betraying you and you didn’t want to give the Emperor the satisfaction, not yet.
Acacius shakes his head minutely, a subtle movement you barely catch. Don’t defy him.
“Tell her,” Geta says through heavy breaths, his hips snapping into you steadily, your thighs being pressed tight to your body with his grip on the back of them, “keeping silent will do her no good.”
“Dove,” He comforts you, “let go.”
“You’ve named her!” Geta exclaims in amusement and genuine disbelief, “You’ve named your whore? Pathetic.”
“She was never a whore,” Acacius snaps through gritted teeth, “she is loyal—good, and she does not deserve this. She would give you anything you asked if you did it with kindness.”
“I’m right here!” You shout, fed up with the unjust tension, your voice riddled with the building pleasure in your groin, the feeling of Geta’s thumb ghosting over your clit.
“Grab her face and look at her,” Geta orders roughly, his chest flushed from exertion, “and be sorrowful that it isn’t you making her fall apart—seeing as this is the last time you will ever be allowed to see her.”
You sob out, both from the crest of your orgasm and the hate behind his words, eyes locked on your General for the brief interim that you fall apart, pulsing tightly around the Emperor’s cock until he comes with grunt, slipping out of you just in enough time that has seed doesn’t spill into you. The last thing he needed was a bastard son.
“You will learn to respect me,” He snarls, grabbing for his clothes haphazardly and retrying them around his waist.
You shake with a silent cry, hand still latched around the General’s wrist, too afraid to let him go.
“You have five minutes,” Geta bites, “say your goodbyes and leave my sight, both of you.”
The moment his footsteps finally descend and you feel the momentary relief, he deflates.
“Marcus, I never meant—“
He shushes you quickly, pushing the stray hair from your face as you lean up, reaching for him and he tucks you into his chest.
“You are safer here,” He promises, “I cannot protect you like I once could, and you’re smart—I know you are. Geta is a temperamental but immature man. Get in his head, manipulate him. Live.”
“Where are you going?” You ask with a somber tone.
“Away,” He replies simply, not willing to elaborate.
It tugs at your heart deeply, feeling the material of a blanket being slide up over your naked body.
“Fight,” It’s one of the last words he says to you, pressing a kiss against your forehead before he reaches your lips, and it lingers for a while, but not nearly as long as you wish, “if not for me, but for you.”
And you would, even if it killed you.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.9
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.10]
"Fan-sea meeting you here. You must be Phantom!"
Danny slowly turned around, grin blinding. "I shore am. Who's asking?"
Danny knew exactly who was asking. Bludhaven's vigilante, Nightwing. If the giant dark blue bird emblazoned on the front of his suit didn't give it away, the friendly demeanor and the puns would have. Plus, now that Danny's figured out who Tim was, the rest were pretty simple dots to be connected.
"Hi. I'm Nightwing. Thanks for saving Batman."
"I am Phantom. You are welcome. Please lecture him on the necessity of keeping the waters clean."
"Uh, I think he knows," Nightwing grinned. “So, why are you cleaning Gotham’s bay? I heard the Atlantic is nice this time of year.”
“Exactly. This?” Danny flapped a gloved hand around them, specifically at the moldy docks and the paint scraped board. “This is not nice. If it were nice, I wouldn’t need to be cleaning it. Look at that paint! It’s flaking off into the water! Does Gotham not have proper boat maintainance? That’s dangerous for the waters and seafarers!”
“Woah, you know a lot about boats,” Nightwing commented, crossing his arms and leaning back. What the hero didn’t know was that he knew more about boats than Danny did, as Danny’s hyper fixation was more focused on space ships and Dick had education à la maison de Bruce Wayne which usually meant an absurd amount of information for someone who doesn’t actually use boats as a regular mode of transportation.
“Rust! Rust is very much a thing!” Danny ranted, using his ice to scoop up water and using it like a makeshift filter. “It weakens bonds! It’s a tetanus hazard! And oh, don’t even get me started on how you people mutated the ocean life!”
“Mutated ocean life? I’m pretty sure we hadn’t. It’s just a little weird, right?”
Without another word, Danny dove into the weird ecosystem that was the Gotham bay. He came back holding a wriggling green thing the size of a worm.
“Do you know what this is?” Danny demanded. The thing flopped around on his gloved hands.
“A sea monkey?”
“They’re brine shrimp. Brine. Shrimp. Do you know what regular brine shrimp look like???” Danny shoved the thing at Nightwing, who took a step back.
“Not like that?” He replied, a quizzical look on his face.
“No, not like that! What in the ancients is this?!” Danny waved the weird sea brine that had started glowing faintly, like Danny’s natural ectoplasm glow. “Far be it from me of all people to judge evolution but this was all man made!” Danny gently tossed the brine shrimp back into the bay. “Brine shrimp is staple food for the ocean! You’ve got weird brine shrimp? You’ve got weird fish! Why is it impossible for this place to, for even one day, refrain from dumping hazardous chemicals or dead bodies in the water?”
“Ooookay, how about we take a breather?” Nightwing quickly glanced around, trying to find something to change the subject, feeling oddly guilty at the earnest expression on the kid’s face. “Uh, I was actually wondering if you’d swing by the waters near Blüd?”
Danny crossed his arms. “I clean the waters as a past time because you humans don’t know how to keep it clean. I am not a personal, on call, seakeeper.”
“Batman will pay you for your time,” Dick offered. Danny straightened. Amity didn’t actually cost that much to live well, but Gotham was a whole other ball park. The rent might be dirt cheap for a city, but the special pricey little add ons such as gas masks and space level insulation on top of the sky high insurance policies were draining what’s left of his half dead soul. As they say, Danny was a city dweller first and Phantom second.
“How much, when, and I won’t fish up the bodies unless he pays me extra.”
“Four thousand base pay, extra one hundred per identity, fifty for bodies with no shades, and on the weekends.”
Danny straightened as his mother’s steel spine, Jazz’s whip sharp wit, and his own craftiness made their appearance as he bargained. “Five thousand. Rate agreed, but I can only do every other weekends and I’ll have to call out some days.”
“Okay.” Nightwing rocked back on his heels with an affable smile. It’s Bruce’s money and it’s going towards his probable future baby brother, after all, even if said baby brother is a dead immortal Atlantis founder. Or something.
Danny groaned. “You are supposed to bargain back. But I’ll take it.”
“Great! Who do we got tonight?” Nightwing looked down at the plastic/burlap wrapped person Danny dragged onto the shores a bit ago.
“The lake kept the body cold, so it should be preserved adequately if you want to examine him,” Danny tilted his head to the side, the flames of his hair tilting with him. “He said his name is Gorganzo Bean.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It’s a nickname he got for eating a whole can of beans straight.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it. Any more details?”
“Sure.”
When Danny reached to take the money from Nightwing, he found that the hero had tightened his grip on it.
Danny pointedly dropped his gaze from Nightwing’s face to the money.
“Wait. I- I heard from a source that you could possibly smell souls.”
Danny yanked the cash out of Nightwing’s hand and shoved it into his shoulder. If that didn’t confirm Nightwing’s identity, he doesn’t know what would other than the guy telling Danny who he was. “You’ve been speaking with Danny. Yes, I can.”
“Can you tell what’s wrong with my brother?” Nightwing blurted out.
Danny stared at him, his legs flickering in and out to his tail form. “…Other than dressing in probably leather or Kevlar and going out to beat criminals with his bare hands?”
Nightwing opened and closed his mouth. He coughed awkwardly. “Other than that. Why is he- um, stinky? Soul-wise,” Nightwing added, clearly humoring the tinny little voice at the base of his temples that was an annoyed Red Hood saying that he showered. “He showers often. And is definitely not stinky body odor wise.”
“I am not a doctor. Well, not now anyways,” Danny said, thinking about his future PhD. “But he’s got a… soul infection. His natural immunity- all souls have a natural immunity against regular outside influences- is working hard to repel the equivalence of chronic bronchitis.”
“There’s… no way to help him?”
“I never said that,” Danny tilted his head. “Bring your brother to meet Danny. He could probably handle it.”
“The civilian?”
“His parents hunted my kind, once. He helped protect me and my people. If anyone knows how to cure it, it would be him.”
Phantom could not afford to deal with this right now, because Danny had a presentation tomorrow that he needed to finish.
“Oh. Thank you, Phantom.” Nightwing said, looking relieved and pensive. Danny decided right then and there that was Future Danny’s problem.
Danny nodded distractedly, blinking out.
He blinked back in. Nightwing jerked back. “Do you happen to have any examples of corrupt politicians in Gotham?”
Nightwing blinked before laughing. “It’d probably be easier to name the ones that aren’t.”
“Good to know. Thank you!”
——
A couple of days later, Tim and two older guys ambushed him in the quad.
“Hi! I’m Dick! This is my brother Jason! We’re Tim’s older brothers!”
Danny looked down at his hand- trapped in an overexcited handshake- and back up at Dick.
Whatever expression he was making, it must have been ha-fucking-larious because Tim and Jason burst out into laughter. Danny cursed his past self.
“Yeah?” Danny blinked. Wait. His smile grew and he made a face like he just realized something. “Oh. So you’re Nightwing?”
The laughter cut off.
“Haha, what?”
“Phantom told me you’d be coming but I, uh, thought you’d be in gear. Not… straight up telling me who you are?”
“You’re in regular contact with Phantom?” Tim demanded.
“Yeah, dude. After you- wait, you’re Red Robin!” Danny whispered.
“Oh shit, B’s gonna be pissed,” Jason drawled, looking mildly amused and hiding an extremely cautious, possibly lethal (if it weren’t for the fact that Danny’s pretty much impossible to kill with regular weapons) reaction.
“You’re one to talk. I’d smell your soul no matter what your disguise was.”
“…About that.”
——
You might be wondering: wouldn’t Dick know not to show up in civvies?
Yes. Except for the fact that Tim stalked Danny for weeks after he met Phantom and Danny hadn’t hung out with (himself) at all. They think Danny doesn’t know Phantom well enough to even talk to him much, despite being from the same town because: they’re all big city kids and have never experienced small town solidarity and, more importantly, gossip grapevines + they have no idea these two are the same people.
A deleted scene:
“When did you have time to talk to Phantom?” Tim demanded. Jason nudged Tim. That had hinted too much at what Tim was doing on his off hours and stalking was usually frowned upon.
“When I wasn’t talking to you, duh.”
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cactusdrinkstea · 23 days
Text
─ ‧ ִ ۫✭ A rock for a dragon
Malleus Draconia x Reader
Summary: You found a rock and gave it to Malleus because it reminded you of him.
Word count: 899
I kinda want to draw him with his tiny pretty black rock.
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Malleus wasn't a stranger of people feeling uneasy around him. Everyone thought and expected too much out of him. He was used to such thing, even if he wasn't too fond of it. Not many could just approach him casually and make small talk. They either treated him too formally, too artificially or they ran because Sebek scared them off. He could count with his fingers all of the people that genuinely appreciated him and he still would have some space left. He had his friends sure, but he never quite had something true. Of course that was until a particular human came along. 
Oh how he cherished you. You would wave, talk to him and even invite him to anything you had the chance to. No one else treated him in that way. That’s why whenever your familiar head would pop up, when your voice reached his ears or when your eyes stared at him, he knew he was about to have a good day. 
“Tsunotaro!”
A familiar voice said, and the smile that appeared on his face was almost automatic. When you walked towards him, the normally unapproachable fae housewarden looked over your direction with small fondness in his eyes. That little pet name, he had grown fond of it too. It always caused that fuzzy feeling in his chest. You ran all the way to where he stood, and you seemed to be holding something between your palms. 
“Child of man, what a pleasant surprise. Is there anything you need from me?” He asked, curious green eyes peering at your shorter figure.
“Take a look at what I found!” You replied excitedly. After that, you showed him. 
There was a small rock on your palm, a black one. It looked smooth but it had some sharp edges here and there. Upon closer inspection, it looked like black obsidian. Is that why you acted so excited? How charming.
“Look! It's a shiny polished rock! I found it near Ramshackle and it reminded me of you right away!" You beamed with joy. 
Malleus focused on the last sentence. You found a rock and you immediately brought it to him because it had reminded you of him? What simple way of thinking, and yet he was delighted to know that was the reason and not casual love for minerals. 
“You thought of me from a rock?” He questioned, cocking his head to his left just slightly. 
"Oh not because it's a rock, but because it's so black and shiny. It reminded me of your horns or your hair. So I thought 'Malleus would like it' and I cleaned it up and brought it. Do you like it?" You replied right away, as if your logic made absolute sense. 
That made him even more delighted to hear. It was actually very adorable of you. Malleus carefully took the shiny rock  into his hand to look closely at it, examining the obsidian for a moment. 
“I do, I like it very much” He answered, his voice sounding almost as soft as the way he stared at you. 
"I am glad, I thought it would be silly, you know? It's just a rock, why would a fae prince be impressed when he can have thousands of rocks? But I went for it anyway” You said, and he could see where you were coming from. 
He had received thousands of gifts in the past. Lustrous jewelry, expensive treasure, accessories, trinkets, food, and more. All of that was true, and yet this one was different. It was a gift meant for him. Not because of its price or value, but because it was given from the memory of him. He was kept in your mind. What else could he ask for?
Just being in someone's mind, not because of his power or his position. Not at all, just him. Oh he wanted to do anything for you now. If you asked for all the gold in the world he would hand you even more somehow.
“It is not just a rock. It is special” He said, still touching the rock with his gloved fingers. 
"Oh you really think so? Thank you so much. I hope you treasure it. I would too if you gave me a rock" You said before suddenly looking as if you remembered something. "Oh I have to go back to Ramshackle, I will see you later!” You replied and immediately bolted through the halls. 
He only smiled politely and waved you away, since you ran off so fast. Once he lost your figure his gaze went back to the rock. He touched it close to his chest, as if it was the most valuable treasure ever. He would never lose it. He kept thinking about you. The way you showed it to him so happily and the happy look on your face when you said you liked it. It was priceless. His heart almost skipped a beat. How could you be that adorable? It was like magic. 
“So endearing…” He muttered fondly to himself before placing it in his pocket to avoid losing it. 
Since that day, he had been carrying it around with him. Everywhere. It didn’t matter where he went, the little rock was coming with him. Occasionally he would take it out and stare at it, with the most adoring look one could give to something. And he definitely wanted to give you something back, but he hadn’t found yet what could possibly summarize how much he felt for you. He could only hope that when he found it, you would be just as happy as how he feels right now. 
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violettaskies · 11 months
Text
Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I���d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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ramp-it-up · 12 days
Text
Anatomy of a Kiss
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Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?
Word count: 4.2 K
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.
A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.
Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 
—--
You were celebrating.
Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.
And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.
It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 
Until you heard his voice.
“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”
You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.
Because you weren’t stupid. 
Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.
“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”
Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.
“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”
You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”
Logan chuckled and shook his head.
“He’s not so old.”
You were in full blown argument mode.
“He’s over 70.”
“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”
“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”
You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.
Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.
“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”
He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.
“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”
That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.
Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.
“I dare you, Princess.”
—-----
After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.
Logan followed you.
“Princess–”
The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 
He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.
—-
On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 
You were slipping. Bad.
You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 
You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 
You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”
You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.
Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 
And that pissed him off.
He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.
He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 
But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.
You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.
And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.
Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.
“Oh, Fuck all!”
He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 
But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?
—---
Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.
Right?
You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.
You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.
You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 
And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.
That would be asinine.
And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 
The mouth that felt nice against yours. 
That might feel nice against your…
You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.
What the fuck had you done?
— 
Logan didn’t even like you.
You were bossy, irritating, loud. 
Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 
He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 
More people to watch.
He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 
You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.
The more he glared, the more you glowed. 
On fucking purpose.
The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 
Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.
He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.
It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.
Except when his tongue was in your mouth.
No. 
Even then, you made noises. 
Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…
Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 
He really did not like you.
—--
Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 
You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.
You could forget this.
Pretend it never happened.
Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.
You could forget.
It was fine.
Everything was just fucking fine. 
All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 
Except you were wet as fuck. 
“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 
She didn't care. 
Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”
You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.
It didn’t work.
—-
Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.
Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.
When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.
But there was your mouth again.
“I fucking hate you.”
The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.
When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.
You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 
He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.
Then you slapped him again.
“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”
He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 
“Or is it frustration?”
——
You were in trouble now.
Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.
Just the opposite.
Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.
He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.
The words came tumbling out.
“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”
You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.
Logan grunted at you.
“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”
Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.
Yet you wanted it so badly.
——
Logan couldn’t wait any more.
He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.
His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.
That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.
He had to know.
“What are you here for, Princess?”
——
His sexy whisper would do you in.
For good.
“I don’t know.”
Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.
Logan was so hard beneath you.
“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”
Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.
“Stop yapping and just do it already.”
——-
“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.
“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 
Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 
Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.
You were not going to win this round.
——
You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?
One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 
“What are you here for, Princess?”
That question again.
That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 
Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 
The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.
You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.
——
Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.
Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.
“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 
Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.
“I’m here for you.”
You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.
“Touch me, Logan.”
Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 
“Fuck!”
You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.
He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.
——-
“I’m touching you, now what?”
He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.
You had something for him.
“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”
You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 
——
Now he was the one who was angry.
Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.
“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”
His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.
———
Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 
You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.
“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”
Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.
Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 
You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.
As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.
——-
Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.
He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.
“What’s wrong?”
“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”
He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.
You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.
“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.
Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.
“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”
He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.
Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.
——
You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.
Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.
You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 
With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.
“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”
The question was, were you just talking about his penis?
——-
You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.
“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”
Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.
—-
His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 
“Y-yess, feels so good.” 
You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.
You whispered a confession into his ear.
“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 
Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 
“You’ve dreamt about me?” 
You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 
“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”
Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.
“Oh yeah?”
Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.
“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.
“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”
And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.
You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.
——
At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.
Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.
“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”
His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.
He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.
He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.
“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”
And he slid back home.
“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”
Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.
“Keep it open and do what I say.”
——-
The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.
“Swallow.”
You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.
He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.
That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.
“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”
——
Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.
He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.
“Look at me.”
That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.
“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”
“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”
——
Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.
You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.
It was so satisfying.
And you couldn’t let it lie.
——
He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.
“What? You tired, Old Man?”
He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.
Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.
He was never going to get you out of his system.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to.
-----
You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.
“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”
Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.
——
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indiaalphawhiskey · 3 months
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The more I rewatch the season, the further I fall for Colin and realize just how much he loves Pen. Because even in his moments of severity and sternness, there is so much softness there.
“I want very much to do those things.”
At first, I was so appalled by the stubbornness in this scene. Like dude, just give in. But what, at first, seemed like such a quiet, throwaway line, now teems with so much give, so much generosity.
He’s saying: “Being distant from you is not easy for me. I am not withholding my affections on purpose; I am not doing this out of spite or to hurt you, nor because I do not desire you anymore.”
It’s such a simple line and yet it answers so many of Pen’s questions. It’s honest, but also loving, and more than that, gives her assurance that their marriage will warm again, somehow.
“And what is it that restrains you?” // “I do not know.”
Again, it just seems willfully stubborn, but really, it’s extremely humble and vulnerable of him to admit. In this moment, he doesn’t understand either — doesn’t understand his anger or jealousy or feeling of helplessness — but he admits it, instead of pretending his distance boils down solely to her secret. In a way, for the first time, he’s taking responsibility for his hurts and emotions instead of foisting it onto Whistledown. And, for a man who is already grappling with his worth and trying so hard to find his footing with a strong and truly independent wife, how lovely and brave of him to confess to her especially, that he is lost. That he maybe, a little bit, does need her help to figure this out,
He also does it multiple times: “Then what good am I to you?” // “Then how am I meant to help you?”
He’s asking her for what he needs from her, and she’s answering, because they both love each other and want this marriage. He’s just a human who needs a little bit of time to really hear it.
Ugh, I love them.
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